Work Text:
The uneven tips of the tongs scraped against one another as Shion failed, again, to grab the unidentifiable lump stuck between two sealed boxes too heavy for Shion to move on his own. The source was organic matter; of that, Shion was certain. Although Shion was pretty sure it had once been some kind of vegetable, he couldn’t help imagining Yamase’s decomposing skin. He jabbed the tongs down into the gap again and felt the tips catch something. He pulled up, and the skin slipped from the flesh with a sickening slurp. All he’d managed to pull up was a ripped piece of the graying peel. Shion dropped his head and groaned.
A thump too loud to have been made by the mice startled Shion upright. He dropped the tongs in his flailing, but managed to get on his feet.
“What,” Nezumi asked, pausing as he surveyed the scene, “are you doing?”
Shion sheepishly nudged the fallen tongs with his feet. He’d meant to finish well before Nezumi got back, but he’d gotten fixated on the potato and lost track of time.
“I distinctly remember telling you not to touch anything other than the books.” Nezumi dropped his jacket on top of his superfiber cloth.
“I’m sorry.” Shion shifted from one foot to the other. He couldn’t tell from Nezumi’s tone if he was about to get shoved, lectured, or ignored. “I just smelled something rotten, and–”
“And the princeling couldn’t stand living in conditions so unbefitting of his station?”
“No!” Shion dug his heels into the ground. He knew by now that he’d earn more respect from Nezumi if he stayed on his feet. “Decaying organic matter can produce dangerous gasses,” Shion tried to explain, “and toxic microbes that can harm mammals.”
Nezumi rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed. He peeled his shoes and socks off and tossed them away.
His complete indifference told Shion that Nezumi had seen right through Shion’s exaggeration, but didn’t consider it worthy of a response. He felt himself blush in embarrassment as he bent to pick up the moldy potato peel. “This must be what Giovanni’s room smelled like,” he muttered to himself as he collected the day’s trash.
He hadn’t spoken quietly enough.
Nezumi shot him a venomous look, drumming his fingers on the mattress. “Need I remind you,” Nezumi seethed, “that you’re the one wanted for murder?”
“No, um–,” Shion stammered. He’d thought he had a hold on the conversation, but he’d blown it.
Nezumi was on him in a fraction of a second. He gripped Shion’s arm hard and pulled him towards the door, forcing him to turn and face it. “If you hate this place so much, you’re free to leave.” Nezumi shoved Shion roughly. “You won’t. You know you’d get eaten alive. So shut up and be glad you have a safe place to sleep. You have no fucking idea how lucky that makes you.” Nezumi crossed his arms and looked at Shion with disgust. “Spoiled brat,” he added, turning on his heel to leave Shion standing alone.
Shion clenched a fist at his side. “I’m just trying to help,” he said softly.
“Well, stop. I was fine on my own before, and I’ll be fine once you’re gone. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Nezumi chuckled sarcastically. “Votre altesse.”
The shape of the door took up Shion’s entire field of vision. He turned back towards Nezumi, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Once you’re gone. The words rang in his head, dragging him into a downward spiral of panic. Nezumi was right: this was nothing like Baldwin’s novel. It was just that there were times in this room when it felt like there was nothing in the world except Nezumi and Shion and the mice and the books. Shion sometimes wished he could stay forever in those quiet moments. And when Nezumi touched Shion’s hair, or brought Shion water without being asked, or passed Shion a book dog-eared from repeated readings, Shion thought Nezumi might feel the same way. A superficial misinterpretation, Nezumi’s comment reminded him.
“I’m sorry,” Shion said, after a few moments. “That was a stupid thing to say.”
“Yep,” Nezumi agreed, his tone dulled. Nezumi threw a towel over his shoulder and made for the shower. Before the running water drowned out his voice, Shion heard one last comment: “I’d never let myself get caught.”