Chapter Text
“Where did I go wrong?”
He was shaking. He has been for god knows how long. The moon was the only source of light; not surprising considering the time of the night. It was silent save for his harsh and choked breaths. Nezumi used to find comfort and solace in the silence, now it just suffocated him. Everything reminded Nezumi of him. The white of the moon an echo of the boy’s pale hair, the soft grass a reminder of his compassion. He’s lost track of time ever since he gave a promise in the form of a kiss and turned his back. His face remained impassive, blank towards the hurricane tearing him apart. Every step just got worse, each breath more choked than the last. The memory of that boy was the air he struggled to breathe. That memory was all he had left. That seemed to be the only thing that kept him moving. Left foot, right foot. Years passed, despite them feeling like decades, and he was still trying to convince himself that it was the right choice. He was Nezumi’s past: he had to move on. Right? Every day he ignored the images that were seared into his mind. A hopeful smile, a laugh that shook his pale hair, eyes that sparked with honesty and pain. He ignored the way his heart would clench, instead focusing on the harsh rays of the sun...
“I lost a friend, somewhere along in the bitterness”
He had locked away every bitter memory, every harsh encounter from his past. He blamed the loss of the boy on those memories. Each encounter that led to the destruction of No. 6 had caused them to split. He can’t have nice things. They just got broken. That’s the way it was with Nezumi, everything he loved got destroyed. Including people. You think he would’ve learnt by now; his family murdered, his home destroyed, but no. That boy still managed to snake his way past the iron cage around his heart, and Nezumi let him. He had believed everything would finally be ok. They would figure out a way to work everything out.
“And I would have stayed up, with you all night”
He was naïve. That boy was breaking, and it took a trip to the Correctional Facility to see it. He remembers watching the boy shoot the man that had hurt him, remembers the boy allowing Nezumi to kill the men. “It’s either them or us” Nezumi remembers him saying. He remembers pausing on the stairs, so thoroughly shocked at the lack of compassion in those words, at how he had changed from when he met him, and he had blamed himself. It was watching the boy stitch him up, hands shaking and eyes wet, that Nezumi realized he would have to leave. He refused to be the destruction of that boy. Nezumi knew full well he couldn't tell him, for the boy would reply, “I don't care”. So a few days after the city was caught ablaze by flames, rebellion and hope, he told the boy he was leaving. He made an excuse about moving forward, both of them, and kissed the boy on the lips and said, “it's a promise kiss, I promise we will meet again”. The boy nodded, eyes filled with hope, and Nezumi turned away before the boy could read the lie in his eyes. Nezumi would move on. He has too. That's what he told himself anyway.
“Had I known how to save a life”
Nezumi walked away for the boy. He did everything for him. Nezumi hoped he would understand and forgive him once he realized he wasn't coming back. That boy had a future; he just couldn't have one without Nezumi. Nezumi couldn't offer him anything but poverty and depression. This was Nezumi’s way of saving that boy’s life. Nezumi would do anything to save that boy, even if it meant destroying himself.
He lost track of how long ago it was since he walked away. He was shaking. He can’t do this. He missed him. He missed him with every inch, every hair, every essence of his being. He fucking missed Shion. He missed his pale hair, his soft eyes, his warmth, his naïve hope, everything. He wanted to hold to him, he wanted to tell him everything would be ok, that they would be ok. Nezumi let out a strangled breath and leant against the tree. His hands pressed against his eyes, hoping to hold back the tears that had already fallen. Drip. Drop. Drip. Through the choked sobs he could hear the sound of his tears hit the dry dirt. Three drops. Three drops for each part of Nezumi that Shion had affected; his heart, his mind, his soul. Three drops for each part that missed him. He wants to wake up every morning to Shion. He wants to be the one that cooks Shion breakfast every morning before work. He wants to be the one that Shion wants. He wants Shion. His body shudders and his knees collapse as he slides down against the tree. He drops his hands away from his face - he can’t stop crying so there’s no point in trying – and clutches his knees against his chest. Great shuddering sobs rack his body in full now: his body’s way of expressing his pain. He’s never broken down like this before. Not once. Not when his parents died, or when he was living alone. Not even when he was shot at the age of twelve and Shion helped stitched him back up. Nezumi never believed in magic or miracles, but the day Shion opened those windows and screamed at the sky, Nezumi wondered for the first time if they actually existed. Shion, a citizen of No. 6, was the one who taught Nezumi to believe, to hope. After years of pain and suffering and darkness, Shion showed him light. And here he was, years later, crying in a forest in the middle of the night.
“Why the fuck am I crying godamnit?” He squints his eyes shut against the tears.
“Why,” he whispers to the night. “Where did I go wrong?” His breaths are coming faster, his tears flowing harder. The front of his shirt is wet from his tears, but Nezumi doesn't notice. He can’t do this without Shion. He missed him. He inhales shakily and leans forward, throwing his clenched hands against the dusty ground.
“Shion, godamnit I lov-“ He chokes on the word. “I love you. I love you so much.” Nezumi’s tears fall down against the ground, causing the dirt to darken.
“Please don't leave me Shion. Please don't leave me alone again,” he whispers softer.
“Please. I don't want to lose you”. His hair falls in front of his face, his tears wetting the ends. He opens his eyes, watching as the wind plays with his fringe, the dark strands mixing in with the dusk of the sky; the image as blurry from his tears as his emotions inside. Nezumi knows he can’t go back and see him again but godamnit he wants to. He wants to so badly. Nezumi doesn't cry. He doesn't get close with people. Yet here he was crying because he missed Shion, despite being the one who walked away. Nezumi gave a self-depreciating laugh; he was so pathetic.
He grabbed at the bark of the tree with shaky hands and pulled himself up, shaking with weak legs. His eyes stung as he wiped his tears away, getting dirt from his hands in them. He cursed as he blinked away the dust. Cursing again as his stomach growled. He slid his blurry eyes across to his shoulder, where Cravat, squeaked.
“I’m fine buddy, aren’t I always?” He squeaked again, louder this time. “You miss him too huh?” Nezumi’s lips curled into his trademark smirk.
“Lets worry about stuff we actually can do something about ok?” Cravat squeaked again. Nezumi’s smirk fell off his face.
“No, we can’t do something about Shion. I meant food.” Nezumi watched as the sun rose from behind the bleak snow caped mountains, painting the previously blank sky a hue of pink and orange. He had been crying for that long? He blushed, ashamed of himself and his act of weakness. The sky looked happy, hopeful even. Nezumi scowled, his blush receding. Why was he thinking like this? He physically shook his head and ran a finger along the fur on Cravats back. Nezumi’s stomach rumbled again. He needed food, so did Cravat. He hoisted his bag off a branch from the tree and threw it over his shoulder. He looked towards the horizon and walked, ignoring his exhaustion. Nezumi needed to keep moving forward, for his and Shion’s sake. Shion was his past...wasn't he?
Not once did Nezumi recognise the landmarks he had passed months before, nor that he was walking in a circle; the town of No. 6 only a few days away.