Classes. Assignments. Exams. Semester finally over. 'nuff said. Sorry it took so long! To the Dwelling Darkness: Thanks so much for your kind words and lovely review! I'll see to those sentences right away! ^^ Also, we have just one more chapter to go~!
I don't own No. 6.
Report: Five Years
Dark.
It was dark.
But that was not the reason she was afraid.
She stepped out, pupils dilated and breathing fast. She had a nightmare, wrenching her away from sweet slumber into a wakeful stupor filled with fear. She wanted her Mama, but Mama wasn't in their room. She felt the pounding of her heartbeat as she glanced up. The ceiling was so high.
Creak.
Rustle.
Her little head jerked from one direction to another, and she started to tremble. What were those? She tiptoed out, barely making any sound as her eyes easily picked out the dark shapes of the kitchen.
She wished Hamlet was here. His comforting, buzzing pulse kept all the bad things away when he slept next to her. But Hamlet had moved on from this world, her Mama said, and he would not return. He was old and lived a full enough life. She remembered crying buckets, she did. It was her first contact with this mysterious, scary thing called 'death'.
Was that her Mama's first time too?
Mama had looked so sad. After they buried Hamlet in a flowerpot, Mama had stood there staring at the grave till the stars were blinking in the sky. Grandmama had told her to leave Mama alone, but she had crept back upstairs, only to see ugly tear stains marring her Mama's cheeks.
There was a clink of marble against wood. She knew at once that it was the sound of a cup hitting the table. She treaded further in, softly, softly.
A sweet smell wafted around her, enveloping her in it's embrace.
The smell of cocoa.
She let her next step fall to the floor with an audible 'thump', suddenly no longer afraid. She had found her Mama—all was well, all was safe. She inched closer, dragging her feet across the floor, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Her Mama jumped when he heard the sound, startled back to the present.
"Tsubaki…" Shion moved towards her, kneeling. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"Had a nightmare…" She mumbled, again rubbing her eyes.
Shion smiled and opened his arms, "Come here."
Tsubaki felt herself stumble into the hug. A moment later, there was the whoosh of air—the sensation of being carried. Through hazy vision, she saw that her Mama had pulled out of chair and seated himself comfortably on it. Tsubaki was lowered onto his lap, and she instinctively snuggled up to his chest, breathing in the familiar smell that was Mama.
She vaguely noticed that there were two cups standing on the dining table. One was half-empty, and one was untouched.
Both contained hot cocoa.
The doors and windows were locked. Figures, the thought danced once, before fading away to nothing. He sat at the table that was on the balcony, eyes fixed on the stars that were shining throughout the skies. The moon was not visible—she was at the beginning of her cycle, he knew. The breeze brushed by him, taking the clouds with it. The trees were sighing in the their wistful way, and there was silence, save for the occasional cricket.
However, only a fool would think that the night was still.
He got up, swinging himself over the railing with a fluid grace that had been perfected over years. His knees met the ground behind the modest bakery with soundless 'thud'. Neither man nor animal sensed him.
Stalking to the kitchen window, all movement halted. The slight widening of his eyes was the one tell-tale sign of his surprise.
He felt the pull.
Refusing to yield, he waited.
The familiar mop of white hair moved, the back facing silver orbs stretching, arching as joints popped back into lace. Nezumi took a half-step back. Then another, his line of sight never straying from the figure. He noted that the person was cradling something. There was a scuffle of feet across the ground. His eyes slid to one corner for a second, checking for whatever threat it posed.
One second was all it took.
His ears twitched to the sound of the window latch clicking open.
Silver flashed against crimson.
The figure's gaze was tentative, but hardly shocked. He, the one who was outside chose to tuck his hands into his pockets and stay where he was.
"Nezumi?"
There it came. The one who was inside breathed out his name with that certain ring, almost afraid to believe. Immense joy flooded the eyes that reflected his own. They were warm, inviting and accepting. He swallowed the slight ache in his throat as a wave of nostalgia hit him.
"Shion." The name rolled off his tongue perfectly, just like always.
There should've been a storm, he thinks.
Nezumi smirked. There were two mugs next to each other on the table.
"Expecting someone?" His voice reverberated beautifully through the air, casting the same spell as it first did on Shion.
Shion scoffed softly, settling back into his seat with Tsubaki still in his arms, "Least of all you."
"Shion!" Nezumi recoiled in mock-hurt, a hand on his chest. "Your lack of emotion towards my return slights me greatly. After all these years…"
The white-haired one grinned, mirth dancing in his orbs, "You've given me plenty of reasons to be, Nezumi."
"A little sharper, aren't you?" Nezumi tilted his head, discarding his theatrics.
A knowing look before chuckling drily, "And you haven't changed." A slight pause, "Much."
There was a comfortable hush that ensued. The child stirred in her sleep, but there was little focus on her.
Nezumi's hand reached out, slowly, carefully. The tip of his index finger brushed against a lock of stray hair belonging to Shion's. Shion leaned into the touched, eyelids going half-mast. One finger become two. Soon, all five were threading through the soft, silky strands.
"You should grow it out." Nezumi murmured.
"Mm…" Shion hummed, eyes slipping shut. "Yeah, maybe. Then it will finally be enough for the two of you."
Nezumi raised his eyebrow in a silent, questioning gesture. Shion merely pointed to Tsubaki in reply. The fingers then travelled from his hair, straying to his left cheek, caressing the red marking there.
"I'm impressed. The kid's got taste." Nezumi sat down opposite him, draping an arm lazily on the back of the chair.
Outside the gusts of wind were gaining strength, rattling the windows.
"Nezumi…"
Crimson met silver once more, watching them flicker with a certain emotion. As Shion hesitated, Nezumi narrowed his gaze.
"Shion." This time his tone was frigid, slicing through Shion like a knife. "I'll have you know that I have no intention of playing house with you and this kid. Heck, even the kid will laugh at your naïve thoughts."
"Tsubaki."
"What?"
"Her name is Tsubaki." Shion said mildly, as if stating the weather.
He then got up, holding the sleeping girl in his arms. He moved towards the stairs, stopping at the first step.
"You and names." Nezumi shook his head in exasperation. "Like that time—,"
"Hamlet died."
Nezumi paused, mouth half-open in the midst of forming a words. He closed it, watching Shion's back.
"So he did. Must've lived a good life—especially when living off your Mama's baked goods." Nezumi tapped his fingers on his arm. "And?"
"Nothing." The other shrugged. "Just thought I'd tell you."
"It's only natural." Nezumi held his hands at the back of his head.
A somewhat lonely smile crossed Shion's face as he turned to face his beautiful dark-haired companion. Nezumi breath caught in his throat.
"Yeah." Shion laid a deft hand on the banister, shifting his gaze to the lines of age on the wood. "It's only natural to hope, since I'm… drawn to you."
Stop this.
Nezumi held his breath, waiting. He heard the dull clinking of shackles deep within the recesses of his mind. The voice was tinged with sadness, but was infinitely gentle. At the same time, it was so rich it was heady. Coaxing him, leading him away, lulling him into a false sense of security. His jaw hardened in a herculean effort to ground himself to the now. For a second, he was paralyzed.
Shion was not to be taken lightly.
Don't.
Nezumi cleared his throat, "Save things like that for your future lover. Didn't I tell you that?"
"I understood from the first time, Nezumi."
I know what you're trying to say.
"We don't have an extra room so…" Shion continued.
"It's fine." Nezumi interjected, making his way past Shion and up the stairs. "Besides," He flashed a teasing grin, "it won't be our first."
Shion balked, red dusting his cheeks, "Don't say such misleading things."
"Ho ho~ Seems like someone's less of an airhead now."
"And don't wake Tsubaki with your kicking."
"Right. I'm able to bend my leg at a superhuman angle, reach over your body to another bed and kick her in the stomach as I do to you. Shion, did you forget I specialize in theatre, not gymnastics?"
"That's not funny."
"Heh."
"Hm." Karan hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger on her chin. "Hmm."
How was it, that she went to sleep knowing she had one son and then woke up with two? Karan swallowed the bubble of laughter that threatened to escape her. It was still early—roughly half-past six in the morning. So I'll save the questions for later. Tsubaki was asleep in her own little bed, blissfully unaware of the current situation. The two boys were a mass of tangle limbs. The heel of a foot was prodding at Shion's ribs, yet the only sign of discomfort was the hand that was pushing back against it. The blanket was scrunched up between the remaining three legs and the dark-haired boys fingers mingled with her son's hair. They lay back to back, breathing.
Just breathing.
Karan blinked furiously to get rid of the sudden burning sensation in her orbs. When her vision cleared, she found herself staring into silver. The dark-haired one was awake and had sat up. He watched her, curious but guarded. Her son stretched lazily, heavy eyelids opening a crack.
"Nezumi?" Shion threw an arm over his own face to block the bright sunlight. "What's wrong?"
"Shion." Two fingers were dropped onto Shion's forehead. "Your Mama's here." He spoke, voice low.
"Ah!" Shion immediately flew upright, untangling himself from the covers that caught their legs. "Um, Mom, I can explain." He held up his hands, clearly more than a little frantic.
In contrast, Nezumi leaned casually against the wall, a smirk dancing on his lips as he propped his chin on his hand.
"What is there to explain?" He yawned, dragging a hand through his shoulder-length hair. "I only slept with you last night."
"Nezumi!"
"Hush now, you'll wake the child." Nezumi chuckled, clearly enjoying this.
Karan stared, unable to tear her eyes away. How many more shades of red could her son turn? Shion was transformed. He was glowing. She moved towards the one presumed to be Nezumi, and with trembling hands, she took one of his and grasped it firm.
"Thank you." Karan whispered, voice breaking.
For granting me hope.
"Thank you."
For saving my son.
"Thank you."
For giving meaning to his life.
The kitchen upstairs bustled with activity—Karan was still baking bread minutes before the shop had to be open while Shion was making a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs. Nezumi…
Nezumi was stuck with Tsubaki.
In a staring contest.
Well, not really a staring contest, more of a game really. Tsubaki kept sneaking glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. She peeked once more from the top of her book, unable to stop the curiousity from besting her. Nezumi sat by the window, unfazed.
"Shion."
"Yeah?" Said person set a plate of hot food and a loaf of freshly baked bread onto the table.
"How's the current situation?"
There was a pause before the full weight of the question sank in.
"Bad." Shion went to get out the cutlery. "But not as bad as before. And changing."
"Ho?" Nezumi sipped at his black coffee.
"I just keep watch over the new government for now. They're planning to regain the trust of the people again. Also, No. 1 and No. 2 have been lending some help." He passed the loaf to Nezumi. "However, I will never let No. 6 be the monster that it was again. Never…"
His hands clenched until the white of his knuckles showed. Nezumi placed his hand on top of Shion's, resting his other on the now rigid back.
"I'm sorry. I reminded you of something unpleasant." Nezumi sighed, regret seeping into it.
"It was my choice." Shion held onto the hand that cradling his own. "It had always been my choice."
Nezumi closed his eyes, frowning deeply as if dissatisfied.
"Would you like some toast, Tsubaki?" Shion turned his attention to the girl sitting opposite them.
"Yes, please, Mama."
"Alright, here you—,"
"Shion." Nezumi interrupted, voice strained.
"What?" Shion stopped, concerned.
"Did the kid just call you 'Mama'?"
Shion visibly cringed, "Yes. Why?"
"Nothing…" Nezumi answered, shoulders shaking violently.
"It's not funny." Shion said through gritted teeth as Nezumi burst out laughing. "Let's just keep eating and ignore the man in hysterics, shall we, Tsubaki?"
He didn't even have time to retort, so busy was he laughing. It was a full three minutes later that he had finally regained the ability to speak.
"You have chosen the road less taken, Shion." Nezumi patted his shoulder gravely. "I commend you for that."
"I can't believe you're comparing this to a poem." Shion groaned.
"Literature, my son, can be applied at any one time." Nezumi's voice turned gruff and patronizing as he stroked an imaginary beard. "That was a famous one. Who was it by? Come now, you shouldn't have to think."
"Robert Frost." A meek whisper descended upon the two of them before Shion had a chance to open his mouth.
"It's Robert Frost's 'The Road Less Taken', right?" The whisper grew a little louder, before Tsubaki bit down on her lip and fidgeted.
"Indeed." Nezumi reverted back to himself, and without missing a beat, continued to drink his coffee, just as before.
The five-year-old was rather unnerved by this, glancing frightfully at Shion. He merely smiled and patted her head lovingly, nudging the plate before her.
"The food's getting cold, Tsubaki. Eat up."
"Nonsense. What is he doing, manning the cashier like this?" Karan tutted, hands on her hips. "Nezumi-san should be resting or going about his own things, Shion."
"Please, drop the '-san', ma'am." Nezumi shrugged nonchalantly. "And don't get me wrong, I'm just sitting here, bored and having nothing to do."
"But sales have been better than usual. There are lots more young girls coming—," Something clicked in Karan's mind, "Oh! You needn't, Nezumi-san. I don't want to be more indebted to you as it is. Also, someone else might not be entirely happy with you."
"Nah, he's too much of an airhead to notice." He grinned, before adding, "No offence intended, ma'am."
"None at all taken. And please, do call me Karan."
An exasperated sigh, "I can hear you two perfectly fine, you know."
"Oh dear." Karan feigned surprise.
"He heard us." Nezumi switched to a hushed, gossipy whisper.
"Mom!" Shion exclaimed at the unfairness of it all. "I'm standing right beside you two! Of course I would hear you!"
"Um… excuse me?" A blushing girl awaited at the counter, craning her neck to get a better glimpse at the foreign beauty everyone was taking about. "May I pay for this?"
"It seems I really cannot have you here, Nezumi." Karan shook her head ruefully. "My son is getting too distracted."
"Mom!" Shion nearly dropped the coins he was receiving, red blooming all the way to the tips of his ears.
"Very well, Your Majesty." Nezumi bowed low, chuckling to himself. "I shall take my leave."
He looked at Shion again, contemplating whether he should deliver the final blow by kissing him in front of the gathered customers, but decided not to in the end. It wouldn't do Karan any good with a bakery full girls fainting from nosebleeds. He ascended the stairs, making his way back to the kitchen. Upon reaching the door which was left slightly open, he spotted the child Shion had saved in the spur of the moment.
He paused.
The child had beautiful eyes—second only to Shion's. A deep mahogany brown, with specks of fiery copper scattered within them. Her hair was thin, but had a glossy sheen to it. The same colour as her irises, but certain parts had a striking resemblance to Shion's original hair colour. It was surprising that they weren't related by blood.
The child was trying to move a chair which was obviously far too heavy for her. She had now proceeded to a stool from one corner of the kitchen. Picking it up with ease, she tottered back to Shion's room (presumably), the sunlight catching strands of her hair as she did so.
Golden… A sole thought flitted through Nezumi's mind.
On an impulse, he followed her down the corridor, meeting with the half-open door to the room she shared with Shion. It was then he noticed that there was a tall bookshelf hidden behind the door, made out of old, sturdy wood. It was overflowing with books, both old and new, some meticulously placed on top of others. Rows of hardcover books followed by rows of softcovers before them, Shakespeare in one corner, Frankenstein on the small desk, Tolkien's 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy on her bed. Some he recognized as his own—when had Shion…?
The child by now had climbed onto the stool and was reaching for Oscar Wilde's 'The Happy Prince and Other Stories'. She didn't just stop at the stool however. She positioned her feet on the shelf so that it touched no book, and jumped. Landing heavily on her feet, she held up the book and grinned right at Nezumi for the first time.
So she had heard him. It was rare to come across a pair of ears that could.
"Would you like to come in?" Tsubaki asked, apprehensive yet hopeful.
"Your collection is impressive." Nezumi stepped in, eyeing the bookshelf calculatingly.
He breathed in deeply, relishing the scent of old books.
"Mama brought some old books for me first, but then I started getting new ones on my own."
She's caught Shion's genius, huh? Nezumi picked up the copy of 'Faustus' from the table.
"Which story do you like the best in there?" He jerked his chin at the book Tsubaki was clutching.
"The Happy Prince!" She replied without hesitation, cradling the book lovingly to her chest.
"Heh…" Nezumi breathed, idly continuing the conversation. "Why?"
"Because the prince reminds me of Mama."
Nezumi's head snapped to her. That copper gaze held a curious depth.
"Sacrificing for the sake of those who have forsaken you, huh?" The corner of Nezumi's lips tilted up slightly. "I suppose."
"And Papa's the swallow."
At that, Nezumi narrowed his eyes. The child flinched at the sudden change in intensity.
"Papa?" Nezumi echoed, his voice thin and strangely detached.
"Yeah…" Tsubaki shuffled her feet guiltily, "Because according to Grandmama, Papa had saved Mama many times. It's like how the prince was saved because the swallow was there for him."
"What the swallow did for the prince was hardly significant… compared to what the prince did for the swallow, Tsubaki." Nezumi murmured, suddenly very far away.
The child looked up at the sound of her name.
"The prince," Nezumi squatted down so that he was eye-to-eye with her, "gave the swallow a reason to live."
Dark.
It was dark.
But that was not the reason why she was afraid.
Another nightmare—one of the worst ones. Her mind had shown her a possible future, one where there was no more Mama.
She had to confirm. Footsteps light as a feather, she treaded over to another bed barely a few feet away. Her Mama lay there, inhaling… exhaling…
Alive.
She was about to heave a sigh of relief, but stopped halfway. The other was not with him. The blanket they shared was also ruffled, an obvious sign that he had risen. To where?
She ran out of their room and into the kitchen, almost soundless and neither waking man nor beast. Images flashed through her mind, with the other replacing Mama in them. She shook her head roughly to make them go away, her heart clenching. It was by her intuition, as but an innocent child that she knew that this man was important.
Upon reaching the kitchen, she paused and took in all she could.
He was beautiful.
The other was bathed in the gentle, illuminating glow of the night stars, giving him a sort of ethereal presence. He was singing something, a melody too soft to be heard by those who weren't in the kitchen. She instinctively stilled, the deepest parts of her mind recognizing the song. Yes, she had heard this voice before…
He was propped up on the windowsill of the kitchen, staring out of an open window with an arm on a flexed knee. She took a step forward, holding her breath—from fear her exhale would break the spell. He then shifted, locking gazes with her. His silver ones were swirling darkly with emotion, but she was too transfixed to feel fear. She continued staring.
"You're so pretty…" She mustered enough courage to give words of praise.
He blinked slowly, as if taking in her words one by one.
"As is Shion." A beat of silence before he continued. "And you."
She flushed, the joy visible on her face, "Thank you, Papa."
The word was out before she could stop it. Panic was written all over her face as she clamped two little hands over her mouth. Nezumi clenched his hands into fists, jaw hardening.
"Why me?" His voice was close tinged with despair, and frustration, anger threatened to break free. "It could be anyone… Of all the people out there in this world, anyone!" Nezumi's voice rose to a yell, his palm colliding with the kitchen counter. "Why choose me…?"
A choked sob. He glared half-heartedly at the girl standing before him, trembling as she tried to hold the rest of her tears back.
"I'm s-sorry…" She hiccupped, not daring to move. "I-I… Because you treat Mama as i-if he was p-precious. So… And Mama's never looked that happy before… I thought—," A sniffle, "I'm sorry."
It came back to him. Shion was supposedly dead. That devastating emptiness. One so heavy it crushed him. Inukashi had said he had given in to weakness, emotion. The night Shion tried to say goodbye to him. That kiss… That sad, sad kiss… Liar! His mind had screamed, the tears pooling beneath his eyelids. Even though it was Shion's choice, even though it wasn't logical, he went and stopped him. Scolded him. Punched him for the hurt he had caused.
His eyes widened with a sudden epiphany.
He had put Shion through that. Not once, but twice.
And he was going to do it for the third time.
Who the hell is the strong one here…? He gritted his teeth, glancing away and holding his head. Another sob. The child was still crying.
"Stop it." He snapped, though not unkindly. "Tears hardly make anyone pretty."
Nezumi moved to her, swiping her tears away with his thumbs. He held her scrunched up face as she rubbed her nose and eyes. All of a sudden, she was brought into his arms, a hand rubbing her back to help her soothe her sobs. Soon, her body stopped jerking and she was fast asleep in his embrace. As he picked her up, he noticed that both Karan and Shion were at the kitchen entrance, faces concerned. Karan smiled a little, before silently coming up and taking Tsubaki from him. She disappeared back into the darkness of the corridor.
Shion stayed.
He always did. Unfaltering, and never afraid.
"Not going to ask what happened?" Nezumi's voice finally cracked as he stood up. "I made your kid cry."
No response.
In two steps, Nezumi was in front of him, grabbing him by the collar.
"For God's sake Shion," He hissed, "Whatever happened to your protective side? You nearly broke a man's arm, didn't you? Are you just going to leave this incident as it is?"
"I've told you once." Shion smiled fondly at him before continuing, "I will not become your enemy. You're stronger than me anyways, so I won't be able to hurt you, will I?"
Why the hell was that smile so resigned?
"It's late." Shion rested his hand on Nezumi's knuckles. "We should get back to sleep."
"What are you…?" Nezumi clutched harder, shoulders beginning to shake. "Just what are you?"
"An airhead you can't give up on?" Shion tilted his head to one side, mischievous, with arms wrapping around Nezumi.
The other rested his forehead on his shoulder as Shion held him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, continuing long after the flow of tears had stopped.
"Eh? You're leaving?" Karan stopped kneading the dough she had in her hands. "It's only been a week… And I'm sure all of us wish for you to stay here."
"It's been nice." Nezumi replied in all honesty. "Your hospitality was flawless, Karan."
Shion's mother analyzed him with searching, soulful eyes. She came forward and took his hand, patting it lightly. A smile played on her lips, as understanding and as motherly as the gesture she gave.
"You still have something to do. Settle it," Karan's hand moved to hold his cheek, "and come back."
"To Shion?" Nezumi asked, voice going soft.
"Not just him." Karan shook her head. "To all of us." She gave the cheek a heartfelt squeeze.
And released him from her grasp.
He eyed Tsubaki who stood beside her, biting her lip in an attempt to stop it from quivering.
"Oi." Nezumi swooped her up by the armpits and sat her on his shoulders. "It's not your fault that I'm leaving—I have yet to learn more about you before you can cause that." He drummed his fingers on her knees as she rubbed her eyes. "We'll definitely meet again. Soon. Until then, I'm counting on you, Tsubaki. For Shion."
The girl straightened her back, willingly bearing the task that was granted to her.
"Yes, Nezumi-san." She said, solemnly promising him.
"Papa's fine." He grunted as he put her down.
Tsubaki nodded gravely and Nezumi laid his hand on her head, briefly noting that her hair was as soft as Shion's. She reached for his index finger, and tugged at it. Hesitating for a second, she nodded again and mouthed the words 'Yes, Papa' to him.
A tender smile ghosted across his face.
"Shion." He nodded to the one holding the door open for him.
Heh, how ironic, he thought.
As for Shion, there were no tears, no sniffling. He was as steady as a rock.
I love you…
"Nezumi." He held out a finger, tracing the dark-haired man's cheek.
That's why… I'm letting you go.
All at once, Shion was pulled into a deep kiss, another tongue probing into his mouth before he even had the time to react. Earnest. Coaxing. Nezumi's mouth was hot. Inviting. The kiss then grew more chaste, with only their lips lingering on each other's. It was almost melancholic.
They drew apart, still in each other's arms. Nezumi touched his forehead to Shion's, and Shion had Nezumi in a death grip. They stayed like that… for a while that would never be enough. Arms loosened and eyes opened, with each tearing away from the warmth that was shared.
And although Nezumi felt Shion and Tsubaki's gazes burning into his back, this time… this time he did not hear the clink of shackles.