Yeah, sorry it took a while. I got seriously stuck on one scene and had to rewrite it quite a lot.

I hope it reads ok (?) and that things aren't too rushed. I spotted a ton of continuity errors proofreading this, so I apologise if I've left any in.

[edit: speaking of continuity errors, apparently Shion's one-week suspension has managed to last three weeks. So I changed it to one month. Just in case anyone was wondering. And thank you to the person who pointed it out!]

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None

Three weeks later

Nezumi winces.

The doctor seems to notice and spares him a glance from her kneel beside the patient bed as she continues to slowly remove the cast. "Yes, the leg will be sore for a few more weeks. Be gentle. No extraneous physical work, since the bone will still be a little fragile."

Nezumi nods as he eyes the yellowing bruises now visible around the breakage point. It had been a small, clean break, luckily. Otherwise he would've been facing many more weeks on the crutches. It didn't particularly bother him – past the general inconvenience regarding stairs, of course, but there were usually lifts available – but it struck him in the heart just a little every time Shion gave him a pained glance, as if it was him with the broken leg. It stirred a horrible mixture of guilt and irrational annoyance in his stomach. Shion didn't need to worry so much; Nezumi is perfectly capable of looking after himself, thanks very much. Broken leg or not.

"Ouch," he hisses as the leg is unexpectedly pulled while the splints are tugged free of the remaining bandages.

The woman raises an eyebrow. "Does it hurt a lot?" she asks, pausing momentarily in her work.

"What?" Nezumi is a little taken aback, blinking himself out of his thoughts. "No, no, it's… It's fine."

"Oh." She continues, and after a brief moment, she murmurs quietly, "Is there something on your mind? You were never this spaced out during our examinations."

"What?" Nezumi repeats dumbly.

The doctor continues as if he hadn't interrupted. "If there's something bothering you, you should sort it out. Running from problems rarely ever solves them." She runs a hand swiftly over the skin, double-checking for irregularities before standing. "I'm done."

Nezumi tentatively touches the bare sole of his foot to the cold tiled floor, testing his weight before slowly, slowly standing. He shifts his weight around a bit. Minimal pain. "Thanks," he says as he pulls on the sock and boot he'd brought.

"Just doing my job." She flashes him a smile and takes the proffered crutches from him, leaning them against the wall before opening the door for him. "Now, don't forget to do those exercises I explained. It'll speed the healing process and make sure your leg heals back to perfect shape."

He nods firmly. He's halfway down the corridor when he hears her call to him. "Oh, and Nezumi – if anything strange happens, or you're in more pain than you think you should be, don't hesitate to book an appointment."

Nezumi nods again with a polite smile before strolling – gently – out of the clinic.

The warm summer breeze caresses his cheek and playfully teases his hair. It gratefully carries away his mournful sigh – no room for sadness in such lovely weather, it says.

He pauses at the edge of the sidewalk, checking meticulously for vehicles. His walk has slowed significantly due to the tender bone and the last thing he wants right now is to have his leg (and both his arms, and maybe a few ribs) re-broken by a bus.

He makes it to the other side of the road without incident. With a huff of relief, he starts towards West Block, eager to retire to his room and curl up with some coffee and Shakespeare.

Three blocks down, he stops.

He turns on his heel (his good heel) and with a change of heart and worry gnawing at the joints of his spine, he heads towards Lost Town.

Nezumi thanks his lucky stars that Shion had previously given him his address, with an additional note with directions. All the houses here look the same.

He'd initially been quite surprised at the discovery that teacher's pet and all-around Student of the Year lives in a dump like Lost Town. Of course, he's one to talk – he comes from West Block. Lost Town is a paradise in comparison.

Nezumi dutifully follows the pitiful hand-drawn map through numerous winding streets, the dazzling July sun mottled pleasantly by the unkempt, overgrown trees littering the roadside. He wonders if perhaps, when it was first built, Lost Town was quite an attractive place to be; the meticulously crafted bronze fountain in the central plaza would certainly suggest so.

Eventually his nose is tickled by the most wonderful smell, and Nezumi's mind flashes back to a previous conversation he'd had over lunch –

"My mother runs a bakery. She's the best baker in the world!"

Nezumi had been dubious about the claim at the time, but here, faced with the most gorgeous scent of flour he's ever had the luxury to be embraced by, he's beginning to doubt his own cynicism on the matter.

He approaches the bakery cautiously, despite its inviting smell and friendly shop sign. At the doorstep, he falters – would it be weird to knock on the door of a shop, even if it was also someone's house? Or would it be rude to enter without announcing himself?

Before he can come to a decision, the door is opened for him. He blinks. How'd she know –

Ah, yes. Glass door.

"May I help you?" greets a cheerful plump woman, with a round face and big brown eyes. She reminds Nezumi faintly of a doll; or at least, she would, was she not covered in a sheet of flour and brown sugar.

"Um," he starts hesitantly, "is Shion home?"

There's a beat of silence before the woman's face lights up with realisation. "Oh," she says, and somehow manages to make it sound heavy with meaning. Her shining saleswoman smile widens and softens into something far more homely, and despite her radically different build and colouring, she suddenly looks the splitting image of Shion.

Nezumi blinks.

"I'm afraid he's not," she apologises with a light chuckle. "He's at work right now." She pauses slightly, thoughtful. "He said he'd be back for dinner soon, though. You can wait here if you want."

"Really?" he asks without thinking. "I mean, I don't want to intrude…"

She shrugs and laughs again. The sound is clear like a bell. "You're not intruding. I could do with some company anyway, to help me eat the leftover merchandise."

That is quite a tempting offer. The merchandise promises to be absolutely delicious. Nezumi tries for a smile. "Thanks."

She grins at him and lets him through. She takes a pastry from the basket on the counter as she passes it, and Nezumi does the same as he follows her into the back room. It's narrow and long, like most of the houses in this street, and the radio in the corner is playing softly. A dining table with two chairs sit next to one of the wide windows, and a sofa and coffee table face an outdated television set. The rest of the room is full of shelves and cupboards and cabinets, all overflowing with odd knick-knacks and personal items. Coupled with the yellow-cream walls and brown carpet bathed in sunlight, the room has a very warm, lived-in atmosphere.

Nezumi decides he likes it.

"Please, take a seat," the woman offers as she drops herself onto the sofa with a content sigh.

Nezumi stands awkwardly in the doorway for a moment longer before sitting next to her.

She turns to him and laughs suddenly. "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, didn't I? I'm Karan. Shion's mother. And you must be Nezumi."

His head snaps up at the mention of his name. "How –?"

"Shion's told me lots about you. I took a wild guess."

Oh, right. He breathes a sigh. "He's told me a lot about you, too." He takes a bite of the pastry and nearly faints. It's like heaven is melting on his tongue. He swallows before speaking. "You really are as good a baker as he says you are. I thought he was just biased, but…"

Karan giggles. "You flatter me. I'm not that good." She tugs off a bite of her own pastry. "So, I hear you transferred recently. Did you move into the area?"

"No, I just switched schools," he explains, deciding to leave out the gory details of his past. "I… had a bit of trouble at my old one."

"Ah, I see." Karan nods sagely. "Excuse me if this is a rude question, but how did you manage to get in? The entrance fees are appalling and there are all sorts of entrance exams before they even consider taking in a student. No offence, but you don't seem the ostentatious rich boy type."

Nezumi opts to take that as a compliment. "My old man, he… Well, to be honest, I don't really know," he admits with an uncertain chuckle. "All I know is that we don't have to pay a thing."

Karan looks stunned. She quickly recovers with a sharp laugh. "My, your father sounds like quite a man," she remarks with surprised amusement. "I used to know someone like that, when I was younger. I haven't seen him for – god, it must be about twenty years now. Awfully underhanded, but as sweet as anything."

Nezumi raises an eyebrow. Looks like the whole family is a bunch of eccentrics. "What about Shion?" he asks. "If you're living in Lost Town, then…"

"Scholarship," Karan explains simply, her voice laced with pride. "The top five percent of scores on the entrance exam are given a scholarship. As long as he maintains his grades, he has a free place at the school."

"Right." Nezumi nods his agreement. It hadn't really crossed his mind before, but now that he thinks about it, it seems obvious.

A comfortable silence ensues, and he uses the opportunity to take another bite out of the crisp golden pastry. Karan hums amiably along to the song on the radio from beside him.

"Say," he begins after a moment of thought, "did Shion happen to mention the details of how he got suspended?"

Karan shoots him a confused glance. "He didn't tell you?"

"No." Nezumi shakes his head with a shrug he hopes looks casual. "I wasn't there. By the time I'd heard about it, he'd left the premises. And the teachers weren't exactly jumping at the chance to tell everyone about it."

Karan's expression turns a little strange then, and Nezumi can't quite decipher it. Her mouth quirks up into a half-smile she's clearly trying to hide, and there is a knowing glint in her eyes that immediately sets Nezumi on edge. "Shion didn't say much about it himself, but of course being the responsible parent I was personally informed of the situation by his class teacher.

"According to her, he suddenly flew into a rage in the middle of class for no reason – shouting things that should not be said in an educational environment – and violently assaulted another student. He landed at least two decent punches before the teacher restrained him. By this point, the rest of the students had left to find the headmaster, and the teacher had to carry the injured student to the medical wing as Shion had knocked him unconscious. After the object of his anger had been removed from the scene, he took out his frustrations on his surroundings, leading to several hundred dollars' worth of school equipment being destroyed."

Nezumi isn't quite sure how to react, the shock numbing his system. Since when would Shion ever do something like that? "You sound awfully calm about this."

Karan laughs, then. "Yes, well, I wasn't at the time. I was furious. I made sure he knew exactly how I felt about his behaviour – I think the lecture lasted a good hour, and he looked thoroughly ashamed by the end of it. But staying angry with him forever wouldn't do either of us any good, would it?" She pauses, a thoughtful look crossing her features. "I was actually planning to pay the damages myself, but it was Shion's idea to get a part-time job to pay back the school out of his own pocket. He seemed so determined to right his wrongs that I agreed. I think taking that sort of responsibility for your actions is a far better life lesson than being shouted at by a load of adults, anyway."

There is a beat of silence in which Nezumi is overcome with warmth for this woman. "Yeah," he agrees belatedly. "I guess you're right."

He finishes off the pastry with one last mouthful. "So… why did he flip out in the first place? I don't believe for one second that there was no reason behind it."

The strange expression returns to Karan's face, and this time she can't conceal the knowledgeable smile. "He wasn't in a very coherent mood when he spoke about it, but from what I can gather, the student had said something very nasty about someone he cares about."

Nezumi blinks, taken aback. That's all? "Do you know who?"

Karan's smile glows. "You."

What?

Nezumi is suddenly very glad he'd finished the pastry, because otherwise he would have dropped it on the floor, which would have been a waste of a perfectly good pastry. He's aware that he probably has the facial expression of a startled goldfish, and tries to school it into something more composed and less ridiculous. He only succeeds in turning a deeper shade of red.

For me? he thinks with a panic. Just because someone badmouthed me?

There is anxiety, embarrassment, confusion, fear. There are suddenly many, many bad feelings piling up in Nezumi's gut as the seed of dread plants itself in his stomach.

Calm down, you're just freaking out, he reassures himself. He didn't do anyone any serious damage. If you overheard someone spewing crap about Shion, what would you do? he asks himself. How would you feel?

He is surprised by the intensity of his reaction.

"Are you okay?" Karan's voice drags him back into reality, and he takes a breath.

"Yeah," he assures her. "Just… surprised." He runs a hand over his face. Karan pats him on the shoulder, and the panic slowly fades, and the terrible sinking feeling lifts. He is surprised to discover that in its place now lies something warmer. Something invigorating that has his heartbeat accelerating in an entirely different way.

Shion got suspended for my sake. Even if it was stupid.

He tries not to think about it too much.

It doesn't work.

"So…" he murmurs after a long minute, in a forced effort to distract himself, "he's at work right now, huh? What kind of job did he get?"

Karan plays along, to Nezumi's relief. "He found an ad in the newspaper for someone who needed help washing their dogs."

Nezumi freezes. Dogs? "Really? Did he mention who this person was?"

"The ad didn't mention a name. I thought it was a bit of a strange job, but Shion seemed enthusiastic."

His reaction is a little delayed."I see. I guess it would be fun, if you liked animals."

He feels his thigh vibrate, and pulls out his cell. The message is from Rikiga. It reads, wher u?. ru ok,,

Nezumi sighs. He's drunk again. "Sorry," he says to Karan with an apologetic smile. "I've got to go."

"You didn't even get to see Shion," she replies, standing up to see him out of the door. At Nezumi's shrug, she adds, "Oh well. I'll tell him you dropped by."

"Thanks." Nezumi knows it's about time he stopped acting like a bastard just because it's awkward talking to someone when you know there are romantic feelings involved.

Especially when they might be reciprocated.

It'll probably be a good thing if Shion knows he at least made an effort.

"Take care of yourself," Karan calls from the doorway as he heads down the street, and Nezumi throws her a friendly wave over his shoulder.

He lets himself into the house, and is greeted by the smell of booze.

"Where'd you go?" Rikiga slurs as he follows Nezumi into the kitchen. "You've been gone for hours."

"Got the cast removed," Nezumi answers absentmindedly as he rummages through the refrigerator.

There's a pause as Rikiga stares pointedly at Nezumi's leg and lack of crutches. "Oh right. But that doesn't take hours."

Nezumi doesn't reply for a long moment, and when he does, his voice is cursedly weak. "I went for a walk."

"I bet he was meeting with his special friend."

Nezumi shoots a glare at Inukashi as they wander in from the garden. He glances idly out of the window – and nearly chokes on his own tongue. Kneeling in the middle of his garden, muddy, soapy and clinging cheerfully onto a wet dog, is Shion.

But before Nezumi can give anything away, Rikiga catches on to Inukashi's suggestion. "What?"

Inukashi's smirk is devilish. "You know, the mysterious person he gave his jacket to. The person he thinks about morning, noon and night, the person who–"

"Oh shut up," Nezumi grumbles as he grabs the milk carton and an empty bowl, somehow managing to retain composure as he subtly turns his back to the window. "That's bullshit and you know it."

Inukashi cackles. "Oh c'mon, I know there's someone. Who is it? You're always staring into the distance nowadays."

"No I'm not!" Nezumi snarls maybe a little too loudly, and by the startled look on Inukashi's face, he guesses that he's just blown his cover. He aggressively tears open the cereal box and pours haphazardly, spilling cornflakes on the counter.

"Oh wow," Inukashi murmurs after a moment. "There really is someone, isn't there? I was just fishing."

And I fell for it. He feels like an idiot.

"Is it the jacket person?"

Nezumi is silent, and Inukashi barks out a baffled laugh. "So who is it? Do they like you back? What kind of lowlife could stand to be in your presence anyway?"

"It's none of your business," Nezumi growls, sloshing milk onto the cereal and grabbing a spoon.

Inukashi rolls their eyes, stepping in front of him as he tries to pass. "You're not getting out of it that easily. This is juicy!"

Nezumi tries for his harshest glare, but as per usual, it's ineffective. He tries to sidestep them, but Inukashi is light on their feet. They snatch the cereal right out of his hands, holding it out of reach.

"Come on, just one thing. Tell me one thing about them and you can eat your cereal."

Nezumi sighs, and resists the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. "He's outside."

Inukashi raises an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Right now, he's outside. In the garden."

Inukashi peers over Nezumi's shoulder, through the window, and their face takes on a dumbstruck expression. "You – him? My dog-washer?"

"The very one," Nezumi deadpans. He holds out a hand. "My cereal, mutt."

Inukashi doesn't protest as Nezumi takes the bowl back and strides out of the kitchen. However, three steps into the hallway, he hears them call mockingly, "If you want to win him over, you should trying serenading him. That voice can get you into anyone's pants."

Nezumi ignores them, dropping onto the living room couch and turning on the TV. He tries to let the mindless noise and cold milk numb his thoughts, but the ridiculous idea sticks around long after his show is over; it festers in the back of his mind as he hears Shion leave, grows roots as he eats dinner, and keeps him awake as he lies in bed that night.