Ok, so I super apologise for the lateness of this chapter, but you can't say I didn't warn you. Only one more week of exams though, and then I'm onto Sixth Form. Scary thought.

Finally some plot progression. Sorry if it seems awkward or rushed.

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None

Shion shoots an anxious glance at his watch as he speedwalks out of the building. He can barely read the large glowing digits - another unwanted reminder that he is in dire need of an eye test. In fact, Shion is booked in for an eye test at four o'clock this afternoon. He's not worried about it particularly. No, his waning vision is not the current cause of Shion's anxiety.

It's currently three forty-five, and the optician's is a fifteen-minute walk away.

If he doesn't hurry, there's a chance he might miss the four o'clock appointment. Shion can't afford to miss another one, and he would have to deal with being totally unable to read for at least a month while Karan rescheduled the test.

Crap, crap, crap... I'm going to be late aga-

"Hey, kid!"

Shion's step falters and his hearts splutters like an old car in his chest. He slowly turns on the spot to see Nezumi striding up to him - shrouded in a rather intimidating aura.

The call of 'kid' finally registers in Shion's mind, and he belatedly notes the flat, aggressive tone it had been shouted down the street with. Oh no.

"What the hell is up with you?" Nezumi grinds out once he's in earshot of Shion.

Shion gets a sudden wave of déjà vu at the familiar line, and the reminder of the assault by the lockers makes him desperately want to turn tail and flee. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he says steadily.

Nezumi purses his lips and deep grey eyes narrow in what Shion guesses is intense thought. The expression isn't quite as scary as the last time Nezumi had narrowed his eyes at the white-haired man, and Shion is somewhat reassured.

"You've been acting so weirdly lately, is all," the dark-haired man explains with a tone of vaguely irritated condescension. The fierce expression appears to have been hurriedly covered by a mask of casual nonchalance.

He may be a Drama major, but to Shion he just looks like he's trying too hard to not care.

Despite the cool act, Nezumi seems quite impatient to express what's on his mind. "First you're so clingy and annoying and you never stop smiling, but then you just start ignoring me for no reason, and when I confront you about it, you hit me. And then you act like nothing happened, and everything is really awkward!" Nezumi continues with an exasperated flourish of his hands. "Look, I don't give a flying fuck about what you think of me or how you behave, but can you at least try to be consistent?"

Shion's mouth opens automatically to defend himself, but after a few seconds he realises he has no idea what to say. He closes his mouth again. This conversation feels a lot like their previous encounter, except Nezumi is clearly far calmer and Shion sure as hell feels calmer while not being pinned to the lockers. He realises that this - a logical, calm, private conversation - is the perfect opportunity to address his hesitancy.

"I... It's..." Shion clears his throat uncomfortably and tries again to formulate a coherent response. "You've been behaving strangely too, you know." Damn, didn't mean to say that. What happened to 'I'm sorry' and 'Why were you in prison you liar'? Okay, maybe that last one wasn't the best plan, but at least-

"I was acting strangely because you were," Nezumi says finally, though even he sounds unsure about his words. Shion remains skeptical.

Shion sighs with mild frustration at the whole situation and cards a ghostly pale hand through fluffy white hair. He looks around awkwardly, suddenly feeling too embarrassed to look Nezumi in the eye. "I'm just not really sure how to react to you, okay? I mean, we've known each other for a couple of months now, and yeah I guess we talked quite a bit, but it was always about mundane stuff and recently I just started realising that I don't really know anything about you other than the fact that you're allergic to sushi, you ride a motorbike without a helmet - which is really dangerous and completely illegal, by the way - and that you were kicked out of your old school before moving here! And it turns out I don't even know that!" Shion finishes with a breathless huff.

At the last sentence, something changes in Nezumi's eyes. There's a small glint, a flash of understanding and possibly surprise - but his next line shocks all coherent thought out of Shion's brain.

"What do you want to know?"

Shion's breath freezes in his throat, and his eyes are so wide they're hurting. He stares at the guarded sincerity glittering in stormy irises for another moment before saying quickly and almost desperately, as if the words had been brewing under his tongue for far too long, "Why did you lie about going to prison?"

Nezumi appears to have been expecting this question. He breaks the sizzling eye contact, glancing to the side. He sighs and runs a slender hand through messy long hair. Today it seems he couldn't even be bothered to pull it back into a bun, and it lies a few inches past his shoulders and falls into grey eyes underlined by sleep deprivation. He idly runs his fingers through the sleek black locks as he answers in a tone far too timid for the Nezumi Shion is used to.

"Letting word get around that I was in prison... It could lead to unfavourable consequences. Convicts are not exactly treated nicely in our society. I don't particularly care about reputation or people's opinions of me, but I didn't want to deal with the attitudes other students might have towards me. Things could turn violent." He pauses, before continuing in a lower tone, "Although it seems things managed to turn violent anyway."

Shion coughs, flashes of Safu and himself briefly appearing behind his tinted lenses.

"And I would rather not have the teachers biased against me. That could affect my grades, and I really would like to finish high school." Eyes like thunderclouds drift to meet lavender. "And besides, I didn't do anything. I don't deserve the consequences of prison."

"You didn't?" Shion blurts before he can think better of it.

Nezumi only looks mildly offended at the clear surprise. "False charges. I was innocent. The chief of police in the area had a personal vendetta against my father - who really was a criminal - and was angry that he couldn't catch him and put him in prison before he died. Or something." Nezumi shrugs. "I'm not sure about the details. He just took out his anger on me when he caught me hanging out with the local gang of troublemakers."

Shion considers the taller man's explanation. It does make sense, not wanting the unnecessary attention... And the story behind it does seem plausible... Shion suddenly blinks in surprise. He asks dubiously, "Wait, so you were in a gang?" Explains why he always smells of cigarette smoke.

Nezumi sneers in disgust. "No. Once, I was out for a late-night walk and happened to run into them. They tried to beat me up but it ended up backfiring on them-" Shion's jaw drops, and Nezumi rolls his eyes. "They weren't very good fighters and they were unarmed - and about thirteen."

At this Shion isn't sure whether to feel comforted that Nezumi was safe or shocked that Nezumi would beat up a bunch of kids. The man in question seems to ignore Shion's reaction.

"Anyway, after that they kept trying to get me to join their gang, but I always turned them down. The chief happened to find us during one of these encounters."

"Oh." An ivory eyebrow rises. "But... Then why do you always smell of cigarettes?"

Now Nezumi seems genuinely surprised. "I do?" He blinks. "Oh, I guess it's because of my old man. He's always smoking something or other, and he never opens the windows. It stinks up the whole place... including my clothes, apparently."

"Your old man..." Shion says, still very confused. "I thought you just said your father was..." He trails off.

"Dead?" Nezumi supplies bluntly. Shion flinches, but nods. "He is, and so is my mother. They died when I was really young, though, so there isn't really a massive sob story behind it. When I was four my old man adopted me, and then shortly after that he adopted my sister."

"Yeah, you mentioned you had a sister. Are they nice? Your family, I mean?"

Nezumi shrugs again. "We live pretty nicely because of his underground work, and we can all co-exist without killing each other, so I suppose I could've done worse."

Shion pales at 'underground work', but decides he really doesn't want to know what that entails.

The taller man suddenly huffs out an indecipherable noise and crosses his arms. "Why am I telling you all this anyway? It's stupid to go around blabbering about your personal life to strangers."

"Well yeah, it is. But I'm not a stranger, so it's okay." Shion offers him a hopeful grin. "And it's sort of my fault for asking."

"Damn right it is," Nezumi mutters, back to his normal snarky self now that he has the personal subject matter out of the way. Still, Shion can't help but notice that he looks remarkably more at ease now than he has done in weeks.

"And uh, I'm sorry for hitting you," Shion says awkwardly, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. "I was just, uh, panicking, and-"

Nezumi lets out a musical laugh. "You're apologising to me? You really are an idiot."

Shion shows a small smile at the indirect apology, but it smoothly morphs into a half-smirk as he remembers a snippet of their earlier conversation. "And really? Poetry club?"

Nezumi shoots him a glare. "What's wrong with liking poetry?" he says defensively. "At least I don't spend all my free time studying."

Shion huffs indignantly and a blush spreads across his pale face, but it quickly vanishes as what little colour he had in his cheeks drains away.

"Shit!"

Nezumi looks a little taken aback by the sudden exclamation. "What?" he asks, but Shion is already zipping past him and sprinting down the street.

"I'm late for an appointment!" echoes down the narrow street in Shion's wake.

Despite his sudden horror and alarm about his eye test - which was scheduled for fifteen minutes ago, and Shion is still a ten-minute jog away from the clinic - Shion's heart feels light. He hadn't even realised how heavy his chest had felt, as if his lungs were made of lead. But now, he almost feels like there are helium balloons in his heart, lifting him up, up, up...

Or like there's a dove flapping around in his chest, squawking uncontrollably with elation and making his head rush and heart race with confusing feelings about the mysteriously captivating man he just left behind.

Shion mentally sighs. He's never been very good with similes.

The appointments had even been running late, and still Shion managed to miss the eye test. But for some unfathomable reason, he hadn't even been that bothered about it. In fact, he had been noticeably light-hearted throughout the trek home. He'd trudged slowly home through the drizzle and the gentle tinkle of the bell above the bakery door as he'd pushed it open had brought a happy smile to his face and he'd inhaled the floury smell of home.

Upon seeing his rain-matted hair and clothes, soaked to the bone, Karan had shrieked rather impressively and all but shoved Shion in the shower.

Now, half an hour later, Shion is lazing on the small sofa in the back room in his boxers with a large burgundy towel wrapped around him, smothering him from neck to knee.

"And then what happened?" Karan asks as she enters the room, carrying two plates of snack food. Shion wonders if she's planning to eat both of them herself, as they're both filled with her favourite biscuits and chocolates.

But she hands one plastic camping plate to him, and a shower-pink hand protrudes from the thick towel to accept it. "Well, I told him I wasn't sure how to act around him because I didn't really know anything about him - and then he asked me what I wanted to know." He slowly brings a chocolate digestive to his lips and nibbles at it. "I was really surprised at that, actually. He always seems so..." Shion's brow knits as he searches for the right word. "Secretive. Like he never lets his guard down. I could have asked him anything at that point; he left himself so open. It just seemed so out of character for him."

Karan hums through a slice of shortbread. "Does he have many friends?"

"Huh? No, I don't think so. I mean, lots of people try to talk to him, but he always just ignores them or shoots them down."

"But he doesn't do that to you?"

Shion lets out a small chuckle. "Well actually, yeah he does. But only sometimes. I asked him about it and he said it was because I'd been acting really strangely, but he didn't sound very convincing."

"It sounds to me like he's just a bit socially inept."

Shion blinks at her wide-eyed. "Mama! He's not-" He cuts himself off indignantly. "I'm 'a bit socially inept'. I stammer and can't carry on conversations very well. But Nezumi is so fluent and eloquent, and he never seems uncomfortable talking to people, just that he'd rather not be talking to them."

"I'm not convinced. You mentioned he's been acting strangely too. Maybe he's just not sure how to act around you." She raises her eyebrows in that motherly way that says I know what I'm talking about. "Just like you were."

Shion is silent for a few moments. There's no possible way. "I've already considered that," he says quietly. "There's no way he could. It's just too unlikely that he could be... drawn to someone like me. He's Nezumi, and I'm... me," he finishes lamely with a plaintive sigh.

Karan wraps a warm arm around her son's narrow shoulders and hugs him to her. Her soft voice rumbles in Shion's ears as he nuzzles into her shoulder. "Don't be so easily dismissive of it, Shion. You're a kind, intelligent, good-hearted young man." She ruffles his damp hair. "And you're handsome to boot. I don't see why Nezumi wouldn't want to be your friend. What's not to like?"

Shion withdraws slightly from her hold and her warm smile draws a smile of his own from him. "Thanks, Mama."

She squeezes his shoulder once more before collecting their plates and moving to stand. "Speaking of friends, Safu called earlier. I told her you were busy, but she asked me if it was okay to stop by tomorrow, since it's Saturday."

"Stop by?" Shion echoes with bemusement.

Karan laughs. "Yes. She said it was very important because she's a little unsure on some of the topics in the Math test on Monday and she wants to study with you." The brunette woman's voice drifts through the doorway from the kitchen. "Quite a direct girl, isn't she?" Shion can hear the fond smile in her tone.

He sighs good-naturedly. "Yeah, she is."

Shion gazes dreamily out of his bedroom window. The rainclouds have completely passed over, leaving the cerulean sky clear and opening up a pathway for the sun to shine down on the insignificant humans littering the streets of No. 6.

He can hear the pleasant bustle of the bakery below him through the floorboards, and the warm May breeze drifting in through the open window is calming. The navy curtains flutter lazily, as does Shion's hair as he slumps further back into the nest of blankets and cushions he's built up around him on the mattress.

Surrounding him are hoards of blank manuscript paper, half-burying his laptop, a Word document open containing his unfinished Ecology homework. He'd been attempting to finish it, but his fingers were beginning to cramp from typing.

So then he pulled out his maniscript paper to try to compose something decent for the recording he needs to make for Music class, but quickly realised that he could barely read the staves, let alone write on them.

This brings him to his current lethargic state, sprawled lazily across his bed-turned-sofa, unwilling and unable to do any work until his best friend arrives.

The bell above the shop door jingles distantly and Shion hears Karan greet Safu cheerfully. A minute later, Shion's bedroom door opens, and Safu enters, holding a bag of something that smells wonderful.

"Hey, Shion," she says and offers the brown paper bag to him. Upon closer inspection, it contains four freshly-baked raisin rolls. Shion pulls one out.

"Safu, I need your help."

"Great, so do I. What do you need?" Ah, Safu. Always cutting right to the chase. She raises an eyebrow at his blanket nest, and joins him on the bed. He's lying right across the entire mattress, so she settles for laying her legs over his with her back to the wall.

"My eyes."

She stares blankly at him for a moment before asking, "Excuse me?"

Shion sighs. "I missed my eye test," he whines. "I could barely even read small print before without straining my eyes, but now I can't see it at all, no matter how hard I try. And Mama couldn't schedule another appointment for two weeks. I can't even read my textbook anymore, Safu!"

She raises her eyebrows in sympathy. "You need me to read something for you?"

"Not exactly. I wrote my Ecology paper on the laptop - because I'm pretty sure my handwriting is illegible now, and I can bump up the font size so I can read what I'm writing, but then I got bored of it and decided to start that composition. You know, for the recording on Thursday. But then I realised I can't see the staves. And I know it's a huge favour, but I was hoping you could write down the music for me as I compose, at least until I can get Sibelius installed on my laptop so I can zoom in." Shion glances at her uncertainly. It would be a total waste of Safu's time, but he needs to start the composition as soon as possible because it always seems to take forever for him to write a piece of music.

Safu sighs. "You're lucky I'm already ahead in all my classes and can afford to skip studying for a few days." Her lips turn up in a small smile and she pokes Shion in the calf. "And anyway, it means I get to spend more time here, where I can eat your mother's wonderful cooking."

Shion snickers at that. "Thanks, Safu. You're my saviour." He glances up at her, and she's rummaging through his scattered papers. "You need help with the Math revision, right?"

She nods as she draws out the least creased pieces of manuscript paper from the scruffy heap. "Matrices, specifically. They just don't make sense. I can't understand the patterns for multiplication." Her face scrunches up. "Why do we need to learn about them anyway? They're pointless, useless and confusing."

"I agree, but they're in the syllabus. Here," Shion says, drawing himself up into a sitting position and grabbing a piece from the top of the paper pile. He begins to sketch out two (quite oversized) basic two-by-two matrices. "You get this part, right?" he asks, and quickly multiplies them.

Safu nods. "It gets confusing when they're two different types."

"Okay." Shion turns the paper over and draws out a two-by-three matrix beside a three-by-one matrix. "See, here you multiply this row," he gestures to it appropriately, "by this column. All the answers are added to create..."

"... And then she yelled at him, 'Stop hitting on me! I'm a lesbian!'" Shion finishes with a giddy laugh. "That poor man, I feel sorry for him. How was he to know?"

Safu raises an eyebrow in dry amusement. "You would've thought the fact that she was in a barber's would give it away."

Shion's grin grows wider and he lets out another chuckle. "Yeah, but some people are just really dumb. And not all women with short hair are lesbians, anyway." He flops back down on the bed and draws his pillow over his stomach. His smile doesn't fade as he gazes, eyes half-lidded, at the white ceiling.

There is a short, sweet silence, and then Safu says, "What's brought on this good mood? You never tell me weird stories about your haircuts."

A pale hand automatically reaches up to finger the fluffy white locks. He answers at length, "I talked to Nezumi."

Safu blinks, and brown eyebrows shoot up. "Without any violence involved?"

Shion laughs. "No violence." He sighs contentedly. "We got a lot of stuff sorted out. It's not awkward anymore. Or aggressive. Actually, it's really nice."

Safu makes a gentle humming noise and observes her best friend thoughtfully. "You do seem happier. Sort of... like you're drunk."

At this, Shion can't help but bark out a laugh of surprise. "Safu, I'm not drunk," he says with amused certainty. "I just feel all fluffy inside."

Safu snorts in disbelief, smiling at Shion's strange antics. "'Fluffy'? Do you hear yourself?"

"Yeah," Shion replies dreamily. "I may be blind, but I'm not deaf." He pauses, lavender eyes blinking once, twice... "Oh crap."

The short woman tilts her head in confusion. "What?"

"Blind. Eyes. Stupid small print. Compositions." Shion sighs, suddenly feeling quite tired. "I don't even know what to write about. Usually I have a theme or subject in mind when I compose, as a sort of starting point, and to set the correct mood... But I've run out of good ideas. My 'nature' compositions are getting a consistent C+ and it's ruining my GPA." He hugs the baby blue pillow closer to his stomach.

Safu turns her attention to the open window and the pleasant breeze whistling past. "You could write about Nezumi."

Shion launches forward into a sitting position. "What?" he squeaks.

"It was just a suggestion," Safu remedies, palms held up in a mixture of surrender and defense. "That was a pretty extreme reaction."

The corners of Shion's lips curl down in a petulant frown. "It's just... writing music about someone else... that's just embarrassing. It's what people do when they're in love. I'm not in love." At Safu's dubious smirk, the albino flushes crimson. "Don't look at me like that! I'm not, seriously! We're just friends, and it's weird to write a piece of music about your friend." He turns his head away with an chagrined huff, and wishes he could sink down into his mattress as if it was quicksand and vanish for all eternity. Or, alternately, boot Safu out of his bedroom.

"It's either that or another C+," Safu states bluntly with a nonchalant shrug. "No one has to know that you wrote about him if you don't want them to. There aren't any lyrics. In fact, people won't even be able to tell that it's about a person rather than 'the quiet breeze in the calm sunlight' or whatever crap you usually write about."

Shion decides to ignore her jab. He sighs. Safu has a point, but the problem is that Shion will know that it's about Nezumi. And that fact alone is enough to humiliate him into the next century. "I guess so, but still..." he protests meekly. Of course Safu is making sense. She always makes sense.

Safu sighs impatiently. "Don't let embarrassment get in the way of a good grade. You were right; it is ruining your GPA. At this rate, you might lose your scholarship."

Shion blinks. He hadn't thought of that. "Oh," he mumbles weakly.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Safu assures him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Just tell everyone it's about ducklings swimming in a pool and you're all set."

"Shit..." Nezumi mutters to himself as he marches purposefully down the corridor. His old man had offered to give him a ride home after school today since he was in town anyway, and Nezumi had of course chosen today to get distracted in the library. School ended half an hour ago. Not that Nezumi really cares if he keeps the guy waiting a while; it would make up for his incessant taunting over breakfast this morning.

He is just striding past the main hall when he hears it. A quiet, gentle and soothing tumble of notes - played with skill, but hesitant and fumbling as if the player is reluctant or embarrassed to play. It's quite an odd feeling, and the sound makes Nezumi just a little uncomfortable.

The music suddenly crescendos, and one note lands slightly off-beat. Nezumi pauses in his walk, mindful of the fact that he really should be heading towards the car - but the rough music has a strangely mesmerising quality, and he feels compelled to listen just a bit longer.

One chord is harshly dissonant and Nezumi winces. He can't be sure if it was deliberate or not, but if he was writing that music he would most definitely cut that part out.

He slinks over to the double hall doors, one left conveniently ajar for the tall man to peer through.

Nezumi blinks, eyes wide.

The man hunched over at the grand piano, translucently pale hands gliding smoothly over ivory keys, is Shion.

This doesn't sound like anything he's written before. It's too raw, too gritty... and far too disorganised. Nezumi's brow knits in bafflement. It's actually pretty good.

Shion curses under his breath as he hits the wrong note, pausing for half a bar before resuming. The sight of him so concentrated and looking downright emotional about the whole thing ignites an odd and wholly unwelcome flutter in Nezumi's chest, and he inhales deeply. What the hell? It's just Shion playing the piano. Softly. Tenderly. With small flickers of expression that Nezumi can just about distinguish from across the hall, and Shion exhales quietly, and just there, like that, Shion looks so-

The blare of a car horn stings Nezumi's ears from a distance. It's his turn to swear under his breath. He turns and legs it down the hallway, thoughts of the captivating performance pushed to the back of his mind... for now.