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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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Feathers of Fate

To: @a-still-small-vox

From: @curiousscarletteyes

Hi Vox! Happy New Year! I’m sorry that this is a bit late! I had intended to work on this during Christmas break but I have been dreadfully ill for the past week and a half. Despite this, I have finally managed to finish this fic. I’m so excited for you to read it! I will also post it on AO3 soon for ease of reading. All of your ideas were perfect and I wish I could write a fic for each. For now, I hope you like this Winged AU based around the winged people I had created for one of my beloved OCs.

- - -

The Kííre were a winged people who held a vast love for the sky and harbored freedom within their souls. They were kind, thoughtful beings who were instinctually devoted to their families and flocks, often composed of their friends and closest loved ones. There had once been a time when they were hunted for their wings, their vast array of colors, sizes, and shapes bought and sold by those who searched for what they deemed to be a worthy bounty. However, this practice had long been banned, allowing the Kííre to now live long and prosperous lives.

Many of them took residence and shelter within a small area known as the Town of Roses. It was a picturesque haven named for the flowers that attracted numerous guests and travelers during the peak blooming season. Trade thrived, and those seeking respite within its boundaries departed revitalized, experiencing a hospitality unmatched by surrounding communities.

One place within the town that was frequented by visitors was Karan’s Bakery. The warm and welcoming scent of plush, freshly baked bread and sweet delicious cherry pie proved too enticing for those who passed the small shop, luring many in. It was akin to returning home after a long journey, a place in which you could easily find respite and eat delicious food, if only for a few precious moments.

It was here that Shion made a living by helping his mother, and on his days off, he usually enjoyed the company of his childhood friend, Safu. They had spent numerous days and evenings investigating every nook and cranny within their town, visiting shops, flying over the farmland, and speaking of their hopes and dreams for the future. They had lived a happy and comfortable life, one that would leave most people content and satisfied.

However, Shion couldn’t shake the yearning for something more—an indescribable tug within his soul.

Venturing into the nearby forest, Shion spent his time flying through the trees, observing animals and local fauna. He meticulously noted the changing seasons and remained attuned to shifts in the air. Beyond the canopy, he soared into the clouds, captivated by the wind in his feathers and the endless sky.

His mother often offered knowing smiles when he set out, attributing his behavior to that of a young and unpaired Kííre. She believed that once he found a partner, his person, he would settle down.

It must be understood that Kííre were destined to have only one lover in their lifetimes. If their love was unrequited, such was the course of their life. Karan had loved Shion’s father, and for a time, he believed he was her destined partner as well. Fate, however, had different plans, and he left. Karan then forged a life on her own.

Some Kííre found love with partners meant for others, while some never discovered their soulmates. It was a beautiful and varied tapestry of experiences for young pairs to find their other halves early, and for others to rejoice in the discovery later in life. Yet, some rebelled against their instincts, rejecting the idea of settling down and choosing to follow their own paths, remaining alone throughout their lives.

This was another, if unspoken, reason Shion had retreated into the woods. Safu had never spoken it aloud, but signs hinted that he might be her partner.

Recently, her voice had softened in his presence.

Sometimes, her hand would linger over his and she would lean just a bit closer than usual, their shoulders touching ever so slightly.

The most telling was the way her spotted feathers would flutter occasionally when she looked at him, her eyes reflecting emotions that had never been there before.

Karan had said it was immediately clear to her when she had found her partner and she believed that once Shion did, he would know as well. Usually, a pairing and finding of a loved one was a thing to be celebrated. But in cases like this, where he did not seem to love her in return—

Shion nearly collided with a large branch, bringing him back to the present. He paused to catch his breath, his white wings keeping him suspended in the air. His dark eyes focused on a torn piece of fabric caught on one of the branches. Beyond it stood a seemingly abandoned treehouse. However, upon closer inspection, he realized someone had been staying there.

He landed softly on the platform, surveying the area for any changes. While the exterior appeared unchanged, after opening the door, it was evident that the space was occupied. A blanket spread on the floor served as a makeshift bed, a small bag with spilled contents, extra clothing, a brush, a necklace, flowers, and something wrapped within a small cloth.

Notably, there were feathers—ones far too large to belong to a bird. Before he could fully process the discovery, a noise reached his ears too late. Suddenly, he found himself pinned against the wall, his arm twisted below his wings. A commanding yet neutral voice warned him not to move, promising consequences for disobedience. Despite the surprise, Shion remained still, impressed by the swift and efficient action.

“You must do this a lot,” he murmured, unable to keep his awe out of his voice.

There was a momentary pause before the hand restraining him released its grip, only to turn him around and pin him against the wall again, a knife pressed against his neck. This time, Shion could get a good look at his captor. The stranger had large, dark wings that Shion had never seen before, their color almost black. His eyes, a haunting gray, held a captivating beauty that made Shion feel as if he could get lost in them.

There was something else too. A strange warmth blossomed in his chest, akin to the sun breaking through after a long bout of dreary rain.

A crimson droplet fell to the ground, snapping Shion out of the trance. His eyes focused on the blood, and he spoke, breaking the silence. “I can treat your wound.” If the stranger heard him, he made no indication of it. The gray eyes remained unwavering, their intensity softening for a moment, resembling the tranquil surface of the ocean.

“I can treat your wound so it stops bleeding. I—”

The serenity vanished as the young man pulled away, leaving Shion with a strange sense of emptiness. Tucking his knife away in a single motion, the stranger appeared to find no threat in Shion. “I’ve already treated it.”

“Then why is it bleeding?” Shion questioned, his eyes returning to the dark wings. “Flying reopened the wound. If I could just—”

“I don’t need your help,” the stranger insisted, stepping backward when Shion approached.

“You’re a Kííre, aren’t you? So am I. Where did you come from? Why are you by yourself? Where is your flock?”

Just then, a tiny jar rolled out of the young man’s bag, seeming to have escaped the cloth. It was filled with three feathers of various sizes and colors and it became immediately clear to Shion why he was alone.

Kííre feathers were sacred. They were given to very few outsiders as a sign of respect, an indication that that person was considered family, an honorary member of a flock. When a family member died, they were put somewhere safe, and kept close in memory. Each Kííre’s feathers were unique. Even if everyone in a family had the same colored wings, it was easy to tell who they belonged to.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Shion whispered feebly, holding out the jar to the stranger, who quickly snatched it back.

There was a hint of sadness in the young man’s eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Get out.”

“Wait, I can help you—”

“I already told you I don’t need your help.”

“But the bleeding—” The young man ushered him out.

“I can take care of it.”

“At least allow me to bring you a meal?” They stared at each other, the stranger bewildered, Shion determined. Offering meals to those who lost a family member was a custom to ease their grief. Shion didn’t know when the tragedy occurred, but the raven-haired young man needed support. Alone, injured, and without the protection of a flock, he was vulnerable.

“Do you think I’m incapable of looking after myself?“

“I think,” Shion began, “that you are plenty capable. You showed me that just a moment ago. But you have to fly to catch and make meals, right? And if you continue to do so, your wound will only get worse. Eventually, you won’t be able to fly at all.”

He didn’t look surprised by this revelation. It was clear that this was a possibility he had considered, but he was left with no other options. Why he didn’t simply stop at town, Shion didn’t know. But surely there had to be some way to help him.

“My mother owns a bakery but she is also a wonderful cook. I can bring you soup… and cherry cake.”

“Cherry cake?”

Shion couldn’t help but smile. “It’s my favorite.”

–

Shion watched as the Kííre devoured the meal he had brought, his injured wing carefully wrapped despite protests and soft curses. He couldn’t help but wonder how far the young man had traveled, how long he had been on his own, and whether or not he was looking for a place to call home.

“You’re strange.”

“I’m strange?” Shion asked, surprised that he had started a conversation.

“You’ve asked me about nearly everything under the sun. Except for my name.”

“Oh. But I haven’t introduced myself either.”

“Shion, right? Like the flower?”

Shion’s eyes widened in surprise. There was no indication of his name anywhere and there was no way for the young man before him to know it. “Yeah. How did you know?”

“The wind told me.”

“The wind?” Shion paused, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. “My mother loves nature. She named me after her favorite flower.”

“Nezumi.”

“Huh?”

“My name.”

“Nezumi… that can’t be it.”

“Why not?”

Shion couldn’t quite explain, but it didn’t seem to fit him.

“Do you always travel alone and leave yourself open to an ambush? Or is it normal for all you settled Kííre to have zero sense of danger?” Nezumi continued, finishing the soup. “You guys can get along just fine without feeling any danger or fear toward intruders, huh?”

“I do feel danger. And fear, too. I’m afraid of dangerous things and I don’t want anything to do with them. I’m also not naive enough to believe that everyone is kind and has only the best intentions.”

“Then why did you help me?“ Nezumi asked, meeting his gaze.

Shion’s eyes held the pair of gray ones before him. He almost felt like they were laughing at him. As if they knew everything he had been through in his life, everything he was thinking and had ever thought. Did he know? Had Nezumi felt what he did earlier? If so, did he even care?

"You were bleeding. So… So I decided to treat you. And…”

“And?”

And his eyes and wings were a combination that Shion had never seen before. And they drew him in.

“And… I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t starve.”

Nezumi shrugged and took a bite of his mother’s famous cherry cake. After a moment, he spoke again.

“Can you give compliments to your mother for me? ”

“Sure. Of course, she would be happy to receive them.”

“Thank you.”

It was the first time Nezumi had shown any kind of gratitude.

–

Shion seamlessly incorporated Nezumi into his daily routine. The once solitary existence that Nezumi led now resonated with the soft steps of his presence, bringing not only sustenance but also a warmth that seemed to mend the fractures in Nezumi’s wounded wing.

Each day, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Shion emerged from the forest, a tray in hand carrying a simple meal. Sometimes his mother made them and other times, he did. The aroma of the food preceded him, filling the air with a comforting scent. Often perched on a nearby branch, Nezumi would look up from his latest book or tinkering project, the stoic mask giving way to a subtle softening at the sight of his familiar figure approaching. When Shion had found out that he was fond of reading, he would make sure a book was on the tray as well. Nezumi’s wings were dark even in the sunlight, seeming to take in all light rather than reflect any of it, a stark contrast to his own, as white as the clouds in the blue sky above. Despite how clearly his ability to fly contrasted with Nezumi’s grounded state, the young man never appeared to be jealous. Instead, a shared understanding prevailed—an unspoken promise that they would be accepting of one another’s presence and try not to step on one another’s toes.

As days turned into weeks, Shion’s visits evolved beyond a mere exchange of food. The silence between them transformed into a comfortable companionship, a quiet understanding that transcended words. They discovered solace in the simplicity of each other’s company.

Occasionally they would lapse into long discussions, never deep, but friendly, usually starting with the book he had read and his thoughts and opinions on them. Most might find the necessity of bringing someone food a chore, but most days it was the one thing Shion looked forward to. Despite his responsibilities at his mother’s bakery and the time spent with Safu, these moments with Nezumi held a special place in Shion’s heart.

It had become apparent to others as well, especially Safu. She noticed the subtle shifts in Shion’s demeanor—the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of Nezumi and the genuine joy that graced his expression after returning from their shared moments within the shelter.

Safu, attuned to his every nuance due to their long-standing bond, could perceive the changes in his emotions. Though unspoken, she felt a twinge of something unfamiliar—a mix of curiosity and concern—whenever Shion mentioned Nezumi.

One day, as Shion recounted the latest book he brought for Nezumi, Safu couldn’t resist voicing the lingering, unspoken question in her mind. “Shion, do you think there’s something more between you and Nezumi?”

Shion hesitated, aware of her feelings, his gaze drifting to the distant horizon. “I don’t know, Safu.” It was the truth. He didn’t. While he had felt a myriad of sentiments toward Nezumi, he couldn’t be certain if the traveler felt anything in return. Was Nezumi his destined person? And if so, did he feel it too?

Was it reciprocated at all?

One evening, with the sun dipping below the horizon and painting the sky ablaze in orange and pink hues, Shion approached with a tray bearing a meal that surpassed what he usually brought. He could not be certain how Nezumi would take this offer, but he was willing to try regardless.

“I thought we could switch things up tonight,” Shion suggested, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips.

Nezumi arched an eyebrow, curiosity evident in his gaze. “Switch things up?”

Shion nodded and gestured toward a blanket spread on the platform. “I thought we could eat under the stars.”

Nezumi studied Shion for a moment, his eyes flickering between the offered meal and the hopeful expression on Shion’s face. After a pause that seemed to stretch into eternity, Nezumi sighed, a barely perceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Fine, why not,” Nezumi conceded, his tone nonchalant as if he was doing Shion a favor. “Under the stars it is.”

Shion’s smile widened, relief washing over him. He set the tray on the blanket, the aroma of the carefully prepared food filling the air. The two settled down, the night around them hushed and serene.

Above them, the moonlight filtered through the branches, its glow creating scattered spots on the platform around them. Contrary to Shion’s expectation, Nezumi’s wings didn’t blend into the darkness; instead, they shimmered. Bathed in the moonlight, the wings exhibited an iridescence, reminiscent of a crow or raven’s wings—a captivating shade, not entirely blue or green. Witnessing this enchanting sight, Shion’s heart skipped a beat, a profound ache settling in his chest. Nezumi was a vision of beauty that left him breathless.

As they shared the meal, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Shion recounted tales of his life before meeting Nezumi, his eyes reflecting the light of the stars above. Nezumi, in turn, shared snippets of his nomadic existence, the challenges he faced, and the injury that had led him to the tiny house within the forest.

“Hunters?” Shion asked, bewildered. “Kííre have not been hunted in at least a century.”

“Not to your knowledge,” Nezumi scoffed, shaking his head. “The world isn’t all baked goods and roses. Even in a century, things can change. Or not at all. A foolish hunter decided I was a rare prize, not realizing winged creatures like us haven’t been on their menu for a while.”

Shion’s brows furrowed with concern. “But why? What drives them to hunt us after all this time?”

Nezumi sighed, a shadow passing over his eyes. “Greed, ignorance, the same old vices. Some people just can’t resist the temptation of capturing something they consider extraordinary, regardless of the consequences.”

Shion’s eyes darkened with frustration. “This is unacceptable, Nezumi. We’ve lived in peace for so long, thinking we were safe. Now you tell me hunters are after us again? We can’t let this happen. There has to be something we can do.”

Nezumi fixed him with an intense gaze. “What’s your plan, Shion? Are you proposing we declare war on the entire world? Every hunter out there? We’re just two winged beings struggling to survive in a world that perceives us as prey, as commodities with feathers to be bought and sold.”

“But we can’t just sit back and accept it! We have to do something,” Shion insisted, his voice rising.

“Doing something reckless will only make things worse,” Nezumi retorted, frustration evident in his tone. “We need to stay low, keep to ourselves. It’s the only way we’ll survive.”

Shion clenched his fists, his resolve unwavering. “I won’t live in fear, Nezumi. I don’t want anyone to. We can’t let them hunt us like animals. There has to be a way to make them understand, to coexist peacefully.”

Nezumi scoffed again, his expression hardened. “You’re naïve, Shion. This world won’t change overnight. It hasn’t even changed in a hundred years. If you go out there with your idealistic notions, you’ll get yourself killed.”

The argument hung in the air, tension thickening between them like an unspoken challenge.

“If hunters continue to come after us, even in secret, we will be killed. Maybe if we spread awareness—”

“My family was slaughtered by hunters, Shion. I’ve seen firsthand what they’re capable of. You want to march out there with your ideals, but you don’t understand the reality of it all.“

Shion’s expression softened, realizing the depth of Nezumi’s pain. Nezumi had never spoken of his family or explained what had happened to them. He never would have guessed that it was something like this. "I’m sorry, Nezumi. I didn’t mean to…”

In the distance, thunder cracked, foretelling an imminent storm. Clouds had begun their journey across the sky, forming dark patches that gradually obscured the moonlight above.

“Save your apologies,” Nezumi interrupted, his anger palpable. “You want to change the world? Fine. But I won’t be a martyr for your cause. I’ve spent years running, hiding, just to survive. Meanwhile, you’ve lived a comfortable life, helping your Mama in a bakery. I won’t let them take everything from me again.”

Shion’s frustration turned to empathy, but his determination didn’t waver. “I don’t want you to be a martyr, Nezumi. I want us to find a way for Kííre to live without constantly fearing for their lives. I had no idea this was happening outside of our town. It’s dangerous. Especially for a lone Kííre like you.”

Nezumi’s gaze hardened, a mix of sorrow and defiance in his eyes. “They already won, Shion. The moment they took everything from me. I won’t let them take anything more.”

A heavy silence followed, the weight of their conflicting ideals hanging in the air like an unbridgeable gap. It seemed that both of their appetites were gone. Shion had intended to begin speaking again but a droplet landing on his cheek stopped him. It had started to rain.

Nezumi was clearly done with the conversation and turned away. “I think you should go home, Shion.”

What else could he do but obey?

–

Upon returning home that evening, Shion found himself unable to sleep. Tossing and turning in bed, he immersed himself in a sea of guilt, their conversation leaving him with more questions than answers. It felt as though the entire world around him had shifted. The weight of their disagreement burdened him, taking a toll on his health. The next morning, he awoke to find himself too weak to leave home, the realization dawning that he had fallen ill.

As Shion lay in bed, the external world carried on, oblivious to his internal struggles. Concern for Nezumi was entrenched in his mind; his wing likely had healed sufficiently for him to fend for himself. Yet, the question lingered – who else could deliver food to him? While his mother knew of Nezumi, she lacked the familiarity with the forest to pinpoint his location. Safu, perhaps? However, it felt unkind to burden his best friend with the responsibility of bringing sustenance to the person who, in all likelihood, was his destined partner. Soon, Shion’s illness progressed to a point where such considerations slipped away, leaving him only aware of his mother’s comforting touch and the sound of her concerned voice as she attended to him.

Meanwhile, Nezumi, after several days of unsettling silence, found himself increasingly anxious. Shion had shifted from daily visits to complete absence. Could his own temperament have driven away the one who had saved him? No, Shion wouldn’t be so deeply wounded by that to the point of neglecting to bring food. Perhaps he had fallen prey to a hunter? No, Nezumi would have heard the discharge of a gun, and Shion was too astute, well-versed in the forest to be ensnared by a trap. His keen eyes and forest knowledge guarded against such pitfalls.

The growing concern gnawed at Nezumi until a realization struck him – Shion lived in the nearby town. Determined to check on his friend and mindful of his own healing injury, Nezumi resolved to venture into town to locate the bakery.

–

Finding the town proved effortless. The fragrance of blooming roses permeated the air, an inescapable scent even from a distance. The quaint charm of the location struck Nezumi as strange. While initial stares from some visitors fixated on his dark wings, their curiosity swiftly transformed into warmth. Greetings flowed, and offers of assistance followed — a place to stay, help with anything he might need. When he mentioned searching for Shion and Karan’s bakery, their eyes brightened with enthusiasm, eager to guide him to the desired destination.

It had been quite some time since Nezumi had navigated a small town like this, and the unfamiliarity made him feel out of place. Yet, with the guidance and support of the friendly citizens, tracking down the bakery proved to be a straightforward task.

A moment of hesitation gripped him as he stood outside the entrance, his gaze fixated on the closed sign. A nagging thought crossed his mind—had they left? It seemed illogical for them to abandon their livelihoods, especially considering their home appeared to be nestled just above it.

Summoning his resolve, he lifted his hand and rapped on the door. It creaked open, revealing a woman whose connection to Shion was immediately evident—they shared the same warm, brown eyes. Mother and son had collaborated to provide him with meals to sustain his life.

The woman offered him a small, apologetic smile. “We’re closed today, I’m sorry.”

“Is Shion here?” Nezumi inquired, his gaze searching her eyes for any hint of Shion’s whereabouts.

Karan’s expression shifted, her eyes catching his in a silent question as she looked up at him, clearly puzzled about how he knew her son. It didn’t take long for her to connect the dots as realization dawned. “Upstairs,” she gestured, concern etched on her face.

Following Karan’s lead, Nezumi arrived at Shion’s room. There, Shion lay in bed with a damp cloth draped over his forehead, breathing shallowly, clearly unwell. Nezumi was taken aback to notice that a few strands of Shion’s hair had started to change color. Additionally, a faint pink mark had begun to form along his skin.

“He’s been like this since he got back home.”

“Perhaps it was the rain, the storm. He returned home in the midst of it.” Nezumi walked over and positioned himself beside Shion, his demeanor softening.

As Karan observed Nezumi’s interaction with her son, she discerned the underlying reason for Shion’s eagerness to visit him daily and spend extended periods in his company. The nature of their connection became as clear as day to her.

“Nezumi,” she murmured, recognizing him without the need for confirmation. “Is there any way you can assist him? We’ve had a doctor visit, but the prescribed medicine hasn’t been effective.”

Nezumi recalled an illness that had affected some of the people within his flock when he was young. Although his memories were somewhat hazy, the recollection of the natural remedies his mother had frequently employed to aid him when he was ill had never left him.

He nodded, his gaze unwavering as he observed Shion’s weakened state. “I think I can help. I remember some herbs from my past that might ease his symptoms.”

Karan’s eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. “Please, do whatever you can. He’s been through so much. I’m desperate to see him well again.”

Determined to pay back the debt that he owed, Nezumi left the room and ventured into the forest, a mission to find the necessary ingredients clear in his mind. Upon returning, he carefully prepared a concoction, combining various plants known for their healing properties with items that Karan had gathered for him.

Once the remedy was completed, Nezumi gently lifted Shion’s head and helped him sip it. The room soon filled with the soothing aroma as Nezumi remained steadfast by Shion’s side, attentively monitoring his condition.

As Shion began to drift into a more restful sleep, Nezumi whispered words of comfort, “Rest now. I’m here, and we’ll get through this together.”

–

Days passed, but at last, there was an improvement in Shion’s condition.

When Shion finally woke, his now scarlet eyes met Nezumi’s concerned gaze. Relief washed over Nezumi, grateful that Shion had survived the illness, but a twinge of sadness tugged at him when he noticed scars on Shion’s skin. To survive was to be changed, he had once heard, but he couldn’t be sure how the young man would respond to this. For now, all that mattered was that he was well.

“Nezumi?” Shion’s voice, though weak, carried a sense of recognition and relief. He moved to sit up, unfolding his wings, sore from having rested underneath him, aching from a lack of use.

Nezumi found himself momentarily transfixed by the transformation in Shion’s appearance. The most captivating aspect was Shion’s wingtips, now a striking shade of red, serving as a visual testament to the transformative journey he had undertaken. His hair had turned a radiant white, reminiscent of starlight. In that instant, Nezumi’s initial concern evolved into a profound connection, leaving him with a heart brimming with admiration and perhaps something more.

With a soft smile, he replied, “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“I had the strangest dreams,” Shion responded, his gaze distant. “But waking up and seeing you here feels more surreal.” He took a moment to observe his surroundings. "I feel strange.” He glanced down at himself, his fingers gently tracing the scars on his skin. “What happened to me?”

“You were quite ill. But you’re a survivor, Shion. The scars, the changes, they’re proof of your strength.”

Shion’s gaze shifted to his wings, slightly taken aback by the sudden burst of color adorning the tips of his feathers. Nezumi reached out, laying a hand over Shion’s, intending to shield him from being overwhelmed too soon. His voice remained gentle, a source of comfort.

“It’s like a second chance at life,” Nezumi sought to reassure him. “But it might take time to adjust to these changes.”

Shion looked down at their joined hands, then gently slid his own into Nezumi’s. “I’m sorry. For what I said that night. I didn’t mean—”

Nezumi leaned in, silencing him with a tender kiss, leaving Shion’s cheeks tinged with a warm flush.

Nezumi pulled away, a soft smile playing on his lips. “No need for apologies, Shion. We’ve both been through a lot. What matters is that we’re here now.”

Shion returned the smile, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Thank you, Nezumi. For everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“I wasn’t going to let the world take something else from me.”

Nezumi extended his hand, delicately brushing his fingers over Shion’s freshly transformed feathers. It was a subtle yet profoundly intimate gesture.

“Does that mean you plan to stay?” Shion inquired, trying not to allow too much hope to seep into his voice. Aware of Nezumi’s penchant for travel and his aversion to being tied down, Shion understood that connections were often viewed as obstacles to Nezumi’s sense of freedom.

He could only hope he wasn’t seen as one.

“That depends,” Nezumi murmured, his tone playful. “If I decide to stay, can I count on getting more of your mother’s cherry cake?”

Shion’s eyes sparkled with a mix of hope and affection. “As much as you want. Maybe even a lifetime supply.”

Nezumi grinned, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. “In that case, I might just consider staying around for a while.”

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #curiousscarletteyes #a-still-small-vox #vox

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

Text

Dangerous Thoughts

To: @secretagentfan

From: @glorifiedscapegoat

Hi, SAF! Happy Holidays and a New Year! I’m so sorry for the delay on this! I hope you like it! You mentioned that you liked AUs, so I went for a Shadowhunters AU because I felt like it suited Shion and Nezumi a lot. Especially since there’s some mutual pining here and some humor. I really hope that you like it!

- - -

“Poseidon?” Safu said into her cell phone, her brow crinkling. “As in the Greek god? That’s what you’re calling this thing? Why don’t you just call it a kraken?”

Shion was only half listening to Safu’s voice. He looked around. The sun had just gone down. He’d always loved to go to the pier, ever since he was a little boy and his mother had taken him there to play arcade games and ride the Ferris wheel. He loved the fair food—burgers and fries, cotton candy and popcorn—and the sparkler parties the college students held on the beach.

The mundanes had poured thousands of dollars into renovating the pier into a tourist attraction. The miniature amusement park was filled with new rides, street vendors, and ticket stands where sleepy-eyed girls passed out bright pink strands to children.

The boards beneath Shion’s feet were still warped and weathered from years of sun and sea salt. The air smelled of ocean water and the sticky scents of candy apples. The merry-go-round in the distance poured carnival music over the assembled crowd. There were ring-toss games where players could win giant stuffed animals, and beneath the railings were dark places where sinister creatures liked to gather.

That was the thing Shion wished he could change about being a Shadowhunter. Shion could see the beauty of the LED lights and mundane-made structures, but he also noticed the things the mundanes didn’t. There were dark sprites gathered underneath one of the abandoned picnic tables, gnawing on scraps of garbage and dropped fries. Over the railing, a mermaid twisted and danced beneath the white-capped waves. She had what appeared to be a glow-stick clutched in her fist.

“Are you all right?” Safu asked. She slipped her phone into the pocket of her jacket. The wind tossed her dark hair, gathered into a high ponytail and spilling to her shoulders. Safu, Nezumi, and Inukashi had dressed in gear, but Shion was wearing street clothes. Safu hadn’t intended for him to tag along.

“I’m fine,” Shion replied. “Where are Nezumi and Inukashi?”

“Over there,” Safu said, pointing.

Shion followed her gaze to the brightly lit stand where mundanes had gathered to compete against each other and win prizes. The goal was to toss a plastic ring and have it land around the neck of one of the red glass bottles lined in the center of a plastic pool. Shion didn’t understand what was so difficult about it—he was uncoordinated by Shadowhunter standards, and even he could throw rings and have them land perfectly.

Nezumi held three plastic rings in his hand. Inukashi, dressed in all black with their hair pulled back, stood beside him, eating blue cotton candy out of a plastic bag. There was a teenager standing next to them—a mundane from the look of the pristine white skin up his bare arms, which were currently folded across his chest.

Nezumi threw the rings, all three into the air at once. Each of them—red and green and blue—spiraled into the air and came down around the neck of the same bottle.

“Shit!” shouted the mundane teenager.

“Told you,” replied Inukashi, their mouth full of bright blue cotton candy.

Safu sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

A mixture of cheers erupted from the crowd of mundanes at the ring toss. Nezumi snatched his prize, something in a plastic bag, from the game master and said to the teenager, “Better luck next time.”

He headed towards Safu and Shion with Inukashi padding along beside him. His hair was pulled back, too, several strands hanging loose over his ears and falling to his collarbone. Nezumi had faerie blood in his family, like Shion, and it showed in his features: his vibrant silver eyes, his angular cheekbones, and the porcelain color of his skin.

Dangerous thoughts, Shion told himself. There were things he thought about his parabatai that he could never give voice to—no matter how much it was killing him inside.

“So,” said Shion, attempting to distract himself, “Rikiga said the demon is a kraken?”

“Supposedly,” Safu replied. Nezumi and Inukashi had come into earshot. Inukashi was muttering something about a pretty girl with pink hair who kept squealing whenever her boyfriend told her a joke. “It snatches children from the side of the pier. Someone spotted it lurking next to the boardwalk and thought it was algae–all right, why does Nezumi have a goldfish?”

Nezumi held the plastic bag up into the air. Inside it, a small orange fish swam around in a lazy circle. “I put a teenager in his place and won a fish for my troubles.”

Shion shook his head. Nezumi had spent most of his life training with his parents—two brutal Shadowhunters who had, ultimately, been torn apart by demons. Nezumi’s misfortunes had made him bitter and sarcastic to most, and downright snarky to those he liked spending time with.

Nezumi had adjusted well to mingling among mundanes (partially because of his part-time job at the theater, where most of the cast were Downworlders who had once been normal mundanes) but there were still times when he seemed to forget (or simply not care) that he wasn’t supposed to pick fights in public.

Nezumi stepped around Safu and placed the plastic bag in Shion’s hands. “My bright one,” Nezumi announced in a rather theatrical voice. “I have won a goldfish and offer it to you as tribute.”

He bent forward and kissed Shion on the cheek. Nezumi smelled the same as he always did: jasmine and snowfall, compressed together into something so unique to Nezumi that Shion had never found it anywhere else.

Nezumi had called him “my bright one” long before they became parabatai. Shion looked like he belonged to the Fair Folk, Nezumi had said—with his winter-white hair, pale skin, and bright red eyes. Shion wasn’t surprised. He had a bit of Fae blood in his veins, on his father’s side. “My bright one” was supposedly a sign of high respect for a faerie prince or princess, and so that, on top of “Your Highness” and “Your Majesty”, was a nickname Nezumi assigned to him.

It was a sweet kiss, gentle and soft against his cheek. Though he knew Nezumi was merely joking, Shion blushed. He glanced over at Inukashi, who was watching with wide eyes. Safu looked pale and shocked. It was only a brief glance before she schooled her expression back into impassivity.

Shion took the goldfish. “Thank you, Nezumi. She’s beautiful. Have you named her yet?”

“I thought His Majesty would be upset if I were to impose like that,” replied Nezumi with an indifferent shrug. He took one look at the unimpressed expression on Shion’s face and snorted. “Don’t give me that look. No, I didn’t name her. Do you even name fish?”

“I named mine Bubbles,” answered Inukashi. They were leaning against the pole of a booth selling hot dogs and Coca Cola in massive red and white cups. “A kid in the Academy told me it was cruel to keep fish hostage and dumped it into the ocean. Didn’t have the heart to tell the brat that goldfish can’t survive in saltwater.”

“That’s horrible,” Safu said. Her cheeks were flushed from the mid-evening chill.

Nezumi put a hand over his heart—where his parabatai rune was located, peeking out of the hem of his shirt—and bowed his head solemnly. “A moment of silence, then, for our fallen comrade.”

Shion shook his head with a laugh. He eyed the goldfish in the bag and tried to think of a suitable name.

The goldfish had beautiful orange scales; upon further inspection, Shion saw that there were flecks of pale yellow and white along her sides and around her fins. She seemed to glow from within. Shion thought there might be a drop or two of fae blood in her veins and wondered if that would affect her ability to go into the Institute.

“I like Lady Macbeth,” Shion decided.

“Lady Macbeth dies, you know,” said Nezumi. “That does not bode well for that fish.”

“I can take care of a fish. I’m not forgetful like you.” Shion patted the side of the plastic bag and gave Lady Macbeth a small grin. “Don’t worry, Lady. You’re safe with me.”

“The hell do you mean I’m forgetful?” Nezumi demanded.

Shion opened his mouth to answer—and then he felt a shiver of cold pass over his skin. He knew. Demons gave off a distinctive aura, and though Shion had never been in combat with one, he’d been around them enough. Shadowhunters were instinctively capable of knowing when a demon was present.

All humor had gone from Nezumi’s face. Within seconds, each Shadowhunter had a weapon in hand: Nezumi had his knife, Safu had a seraph blade, and Inukashi clutched a needle-thin dagger. Shion clutched his stele in his fist, the crystal tip pointed outward.

“Where’s it heading?” asked Inukashi.

“Toward the end of the pier,” replied Safu. She jerked her head toward the assemblage of mundanes gathered near the railing overlooking the dark ocean water. “That’s where the most potential victims are located.”

“I’ll cut it off,” said Nezumi. He’d only brought his knife—but Shion knew how quick he was. Nezumi could move as fast as an elf, and though Rikiga required him to bring seraph blades and a sword, Nezumi could often make do with just his dagger and his speed. “Head to the beach and cut it off if it changes course and goes to the water.”

Inukashi and Safu were gone as soon as the command left Nezumi’s lips. Shion took off running toward the end of the pier, his sneakers thumping against the wooden boards. The wind threatened to knock Lady Macbeth from his hands, but he clutched her close and kept her from bouncing.

The stele felt warm and sturdy in his hand. Shion had no weapons, but he felt invincible. The dangerous thoughts from before had been cast aside. Everything in his mind focused on the task at hand: stopping the demon.

Shion heard the footsteps behind him. He didn’t have to look to know it was Nezumi. He’d been given no order, but Shion and Nezumi were parabatai—they battled together, traveled together. Nezumi’s footsteps had been at his side from the moment Shion had begun training.

“Over there,” Nezumi said, but Shion could already see it. A dark shape scurried along the railing, massive and thick, invisible to the eyes of unknowing mundanes. The Ferris wheel was coming back around for another stop. It had begun to slow.

Shion dove toward the Ferris wheel line and began to shove his way through it. He and Nezumi had not applied any glamour runes, so several people swore at them and shouted as Nezumi and Shion stomped on toes and elbowed ribs and knocked people to the ground without an apology. Shion had felt bad about it the first time he’d tagged along for patrol—and maybe he would after the demon was dead.

The carriage was coming to a halt. A young couple—a tall girl in a green school uniform and her petite girlfriend with her hair done up in blond pigtails—was about to climb in. Shion saw the demon beginning to head for the Ferris wheel, going for the metal rails.

“Sorry,” Shion shouted, shoving past the couple and nearly knocking them to the ground. The carriage was small, a colorful square with a pole in the center and two benches. There wasn’t much room to stand.

Over his shoulder, Shion heard the tall girl ask her girlfriend if she was alright. People in the line were shouting at the ticket master, but Shion had already collapsed against the side of the carriage as it had begun to lift back into the air.

The carriage rocked beneath his feet as Nezumi clambered in after him. He slammed the safety gate shut just as the thing hefted into the air. Nezumi leaned out over the railing, clutching his knife in his hand. “Where did it go?” he demanded, craning his head up.

Shion squinted through the lights. He’d seen it. He was positive of that. From this height, the Ferris wheel was a brilliant pillar of light and iron painted bars. The two carriages beneath Shion and Nezumi still had their previous passengers in them. The line below must have still been in a frenzy from Shion and Nezumi’s sudden arrival.

Nezumi set his boot on the bench, and Shion reached out to grab his arm. “Wait.” He set Lady Macbeth’s plastic bag on the ground of the carriage, safely tucked beneath the bench. “Runes,” Shion said, holding out his stele.

The carriage was still rising into the air. Shion could see the beach below, the dark water spilling across the sand. He saw the lights of Kronos in the distance. The mountains and the cliff edges were pinpricks of white towards the direction of the Institute.

The stars were dim and barely visible in the brilliant light of the amusement park. Nezumi glanced over at Shion, his expression blank. He stepped down from the bench and shrugged off his jacket. It slid down his back and landed in a heap, revealing his bare arms and collarbone.

Shion’s mouth went dry. This was the closest he and Nezumi had been to each other without any of the others near for almost a week, and Shion’s heart hammered a mile a minute. Nezumi picked up his jacket and held it out to Shion without a word. Shion took it, knowing the ritual well by now. Nezumi gave him his jacket to wear to keep him safe, Shion marked him with runes, and then Nezumi went off and slaughtered the demon.

The lights of the wheel had turned blue and yellow as Shion slipped Nezumi’s jacket on. The lights cast shadows across Nezumi’s face and arms. His hair hung down around his shoulders, most of it pulled back. Shion could tell by looking at him that he was a warrior: the bones beneath his skin and muscles were hard as iron.

Nezumi was beautiful. He had always been beautiful, even when he was bleeding in the foyer of the Institute. It was a memory Shion didn’t like to relive because it reminded him that there had been a time when he and Nezumi had not been parabatai. Nezumi’s silver eyes flashed in the changing lights of the Ferris wheel. He was beautiful, and Shion stood with his hand trembling around the hilt of his stele and his body aching.

He wanted to touch Nezumi. He knew he couldn’t. He and Nezumi had taken the parabatai oath—had stood in front of the Silent Brothers and pledged to fight together, to live together, to be together, but never to fall in love.

Nezumi stepped forward as the Ferris wheel brought the carriage around to the top. The collar of Nezumi’s gear was low, displaying the pale flesh of his collarbone. The top of his parabatai rune peeked out above his heart. The skin along his throat and shoulders was scored over and over with faded silvery lines that were only visible in brief flashes, the remnants of old runes.

Shion had to step closer to Mark him. He pressed the stele to Nezumi’s forearm. The runes bloomed beneath the tip of the stele: agility, stealth, night vision, glamour so the humans wouldn’t see him. Shion placed a Sure-Strike in between Nezumi’s collarbone, close to his heart where it would be the most effective. Nezumi was slightly taller than him, but enough to make a difference; Shion’s head reached to his chin, and he stared directly at Nezumi’s throat.

“Give me your stele,” Nezumi said abruptly.

Shion jerked his head up. He had just finished the runes. Nezumi reached out to take the stele from his hand, and Shion surrendered it without resistance. Nezumi stared at him, and Shion couldn’t read the expression on his face. Nezumi’s eyes had turned the color of storm clouds in the darkness of the carriage. The lights from the Ferris wheel had turned red and yellow, spreading out around them and spilling down to the pitch-black waters below.

Nezumi took Shion’s arm, the one with the parabatai rune on his wrist. He shoved the sleeve of his jacket and Shion’s button-down up. There was tenderness behind his touch, a gentleness that Shion had never associated with Nezumi before.

Nezumi pressed the tip of the stele to Shion’s wrist and pulled it in swift spirals around his skin. Bolts of warmth shot through Shion’s stomach and down to his toes. He shifted his weight to his other leg.

A single Mark appeared on the pale skin above his parabatai rune. Shion recognized it as the looping patterns of a protection charm. Nezumi’s head was bent forward, his gaze fixed on the task of finishing the rune. Shion fought to keep from shivering. His body felt warm.

Once the rune was finished, Nezumi handed the stele back to Shion. Nezumi’s pale arms were painted in runes of stealth and power, crafted in Shion’s elegant penmanship. Shion gazed down at the scratching on his arm. Nezumi had harsh handwriting, spiked at the corners as if he had carved it with the tip of his knife.

Nezumi gripped the hilt of his knife and stepped forward. He took Shion’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced their eyes to lock.

Shion’s heart clenched. “Nezumi?” he whispered. The lights of the Ferris wheel had turned to a deep, rich blue that almost threw Nezumi completely into darkness.

Something rose up on the other side of the carriage—a wriggling mass of frigid tentacles the color of blood. Not the fresh blood that came from a cut from a blade. The blood that welled beneath an infected wound that killed in slow, feverish tendrils. One tentacle had clung to the spoke of the Ferris wheel. Its mouth was open wide, its teeth sharp as needles.

“Nezumi!” Shion shouted, and Nezumi flung himself from the carriage. He caught himself on one of the many bars interlocking the spokes and carriages together.

Shion scrambled to the side and leaned over. Nezumi was holding onto the spoke with one hand. With the other, he hacked at the tentacle keeping the creature locked to the wheel.

The edge of the knife caught the creature’s tentacle as it reeled back. It screeched. Nezumi turned his face away as a spray of black ichor splashed against his neck and bare arms.

Shion clutched the stele in his fist as Nezumi pulled himself up on the spoke. For half a second, Shion considered throwing the stele like a projectile—but the creature, shockingly fast, was already scrambling down along the tangle of iron bars. And a Shadowhunter without their stele is as good as dead.

Shion ran to the other side of the carriage as the wheel began to descend. LED lights exploded around him in a sea of blues and reds and yellows. Nezumi clambered down the wheel spokes after it. Shion could see ichor spilled on the iron. He knew the creature was hurt.

The view from the Ferris wheel was beautiful. The pitch-black sea and the silver sand spread out beneath him in all directions. Shion felt like he was dangling off the edge of the world.

He could taste blood and salt in his mouth, and he knew it had come from Nezumi. Shion’s parabatai was jumping down the length of the wheel, using the spokes and wires and iron bars to steady himself. The creature had gone to the center of the wheel. Its crimson tentacles wrapped around the bolts and jerked. Shion leaned over to see what it was doing—and then he went cold.

The demon was attempting to wrench the bolt out from the Ferris wheel. If it succeeded, the whole thing would roll off the pier. Shion couldn’t pretend that any of the passengers on the wheel would survive, or that any of the groups of mundanes lingering below would, either.

The Ferris wheel rocked. Shion stumbled and caught the edge of the carriage against his stomach. He winced in pain. The creature had its tentacles around the wheel’s heart and was twisting it. Nezumi, spotting the demon and realizing what it intended to do, redoubled his speed and sprinted down the iron bars. He was too far above the wheel’s middle.

The carriage had begun to swing back down and around. Shion ducked when he passed the ticket booth. He couldn’t see the tall girl and her blond girlfriend, but the chaos in the line seemed to have died down. Once he was out of the loading dock, Shion raced to the edge and craned his head upward.

Nezumi stretched his body out along the iron bar. He wrapped his left arm around one of them, and then he looked down at Shion and nodded.

Shion knew, instinctively, without having to wonder, what Nezumi intended for him to do. He pushed the sleeve of his borrowed jacket up—pretending not to notice that it smelled like his parabatai—and etched a quick glamour spell on the inside of his wrist. Once the glamour rune had finished, once Shion knew he would be hidden from the eyes and ears of normal mundanes, he leaned over the edge of the carriage and screamed.

It was different from the squeals of delight from the Ferris wheel passengers. It was different from the laughter on the pier and the squeals of children up way past their bedtime. Shion poured all of his fear and concern for his parabatai into the sound. He released all the frustration he’d been feeling, all the late nights lying awake in his bed, all the dangerous thoughts he couldn’t seem to quell.

The demon stopped yanking on the wheel and raised its head towards the sound. Shion saw its three eyes, oval and glossed as pearls. Nezumi released his grip on the spoke and plummeted down toward the demon. As he fell, he angled his knife, his hair whipping back from around his face. He was a falling star, and the demon’s white eyes seemed to widen as it pieced together that Shion’s scream had been a distraction.

It was too late. Nezumi whipped the knife forward, driving it down into the top of the demon’s skull. The blade punctured its flesh with a slick, wet sound. The creature’s tentacles flailed in a dying spasm.

Nezumi wrenched his knife free and stepped off onto one of the spokes. The demon’s body jerked back and rolled along one of the downward spokes of the wheel. It reached the end and tumbled off. Shion thought he heard a splash in the ocean, but there was no time to wonder. He looked at Nezumi, who was scrambling down the side of the wheel and heading for the ground.

The carriage was coming back around towards the loading dock. Shion grabbed Lady Macbeth from her spot under the bench and hopped out of the carriage as it approached the ground. He was invisible from the glamour rune, so an empty carriage earned a few strange looks, but Shion was making his way through the crowd towards Nezumi long before anyone could wonder what it could mean. Mundanes had an interesting way of dismissing things they perceived as strange simply because it was easier to handle than the truth.

Nezumi was standing a few feet away under one of the pier LED lamps. He was breathing hard. He spotted Shion, and the tension in his body seemed to dissipate. Behind them, the Ferris wheel spun, lowering passengers towards the beach and picking up new ones for the ride. Shion could see the crowd of mundanes, the shimmer of water along the shoreline, and two dark figures standing on the beach that could have been Safu and Inukashi.

“Nice work, Your Majesty,” said Nezumi. He wiped ichor off his bare arms. It left black streaks on his pale skin, as if he’d been messing around with an inkwell and the whole thing had spilled on him.

“You, too,” Shion murmured, lowering his head so Nezumi couldn’t see him blushing. He clenched the plastic bag in his fist. Inside, Lady Macbeth swallowed bubbles and swam without a care in the world.

⁂

Safu and Inukashi were waiting for them beneath the pier. Inukashi had taken off their boots and waded partway into the waves. Safu was wiping ichor off her Hightower hunting knife. At her feet was a patch of drying sand the color of charcoal.

“Was the demon dead when it hit the water?” Shion called. The glamour rune on his right wrist burned in the crisp mid-evening air. “Please tell me it was. Even if it isn’t true.”

“Close enough,” replied Safu. “It rolled into the shallows. Inukashi caught it trying to crawl away, but they cut its tentacle off and it went down.” She nudged at the patch of ichor smeared into the sand. “The tentacle dove into the ocean, but I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

Nezumi had wandered away from Shion and down to the edge of the water. Inukashi splashed out of the shallows and jammed their wet feet into their boots. Both he and Safu were fully glamoured, and Shion saw a group of mundane teenagers completely overlook them as they walked across the beach. He wondered what the mundanes would think if they could see them now—a ragtag bunch of Shadowhunters splattered in black blood, with knives and steles rather than wallets and iPhones.

Inukashi made some snide comment in response to something Nezumi had said. Nezumi responded with a sound like a sardonic laugh and brushed some of the black ichor from his arms. All four of them were shivering. The night air smelled like dirt and seawater and popcorn. Shion could hear the carnival at his back. The city in the distance glistened like the carapaces of a thousand beetles, all silver and gold and blinking red. The ocean waves lapped against the sand in the distance. The moon had crept behind a small patch of clouds.

“We’d better get back,” Safu said, pulling her soaking wet jacket around her shoulders. “Before Rikiga sends a search party.”

“Where’d you park the Jeep?” asked Nezumi. He scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Some of the ichor had splattered across his face, leaving a trail of black tar over his lips. “I’ll drive.”

“Doesn’t that burn?” asked Inukashi. They were soaked to the bone, their dark hair clinging to their neck. It had come loose from its ponytail sometime during the battle, and they looked every bit as wild as Shion thought they had the day they arrived at the Institute.

“Not really,” replied Nezumi with an indifferent shrug. “Doesn’t taste that great, though.” He spat a glob of black onto the beach.

“It’s parked back there,” said Safu, gesturing to the carnival parking lot. At Nezumi’s disgusted look, she answered, “Well, what was I supposed to do? I can’t put a glamour rune on it, and I don’t want it to get towed. Rikiga still hasn’t forgiven you for the last time that happened, by the way.”

Nezumi examined the edge of his blade, as if he were looking for nicks. “He’ll get over it. Come on. Let’s get the Jeep and go back to the Institute. I need a shower.”

Shion examined the surface of the water. The silver waves lapped against the sand, a gentle shushing sound drowning out the cheerful wails of the mundanes in the carnival.

“Are we sure there aren’t any others out in the shallows?” he asked. “We should check.”

Nezumi, who had been wringing ichor and saltwater out of his hair, shot Shion an incredulous look. “Can you breathe underwater? ‘Cause I sure as hell can’t. Besides, those things are solitary hunters. Extremely territorial. That was the only one. Trust me.”

Shion didn’t even think to argue. His parabatai was better versed in dealing with demons in the field. And if Nezumi assured him that the creature they’d fought was the only one, then Shion would believe him.

Inukashi shot Nezumi a disgusted look as he spat another glob of ichor onto the sand. “Could you stop doing that?” They shuddered. “Disgusting.”

Nezumi flashed them a wide grin, his teeth stained black. Shion smiled over at him, as much as he could. He felt unnaturally calm around Nezumi, but he assumed it was due to the fact that they were parabatai. He was unbearably grateful that Nezumi had asked him to participate in the Trial of Fire. Five years ago, Shion never could have dreamed that the thin, rain-soaked boy in the foyer of the Institute would want anything to do with him.

Nezumi’s silver eyes flickered over in Shion’s direction, and Shion felt a surge of warmth shiver through his body. There was something about Nezumi, something indefinitely strange, a hint of wildness that reminded Shion of a typhoon. He could see it in the glorious silver coloration of Nezumi’s irises, the beautiful color he had never seen on any other creature.

Shion watched as Nezumi wandered over toward him. Reaching Shion’s side, Nezumi lifted his hand and brushed a lock of Shion’s white hair out of his face. Shion leaned into the touch, without thinking, and then forced himself to draw away.

Dangerous thoughts, he reminded himself, gazing into his parabatai’s sharp eyes and hearing the sound of Safu and Inukashi’s voices fading out. Completely dangerous.

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #inukashi #safu #secretagentfan #glorifiedscapegoat

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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Stubborn Symbiosis

Hi @ulkonja - as much as I wanted to write some Safu angst I could not help but yield to the sweet siren song of “spicy Nezushi” - I hope it’s to your liking even though the spice might be a bit different than you expect, haha. HAPPY SECRET SANTA!

Post-canon, established relationship, T-rating (though certainly a lil spicy)

—-

“This was the first park we built after everything,” Shion began, unlocking the gate on a black screened-off area. “…There was a learning curve. Please watch your step, Nezumi.”

“But of course,” Nezumi allowed, making a mental note to store anything embarrassing to replay vengefully in his head later— it had been a long week and he deserved petty rejuvenation.

Behind the (surprisingly intense) padlock sat dirty water in a hole. It lounged at half the depth intended, judging by the three-foot muddy drop that awaited anyone unfortunate enough to approach. There were barely any fish or plants, but the species that had survived did look surprisingly healthy. This somehow was a functioning pond— if only out of spite.

“I can’t believe you haven’t shown me this,” Nezumi whispered, awed. “This is monumental.”

“You know, Nezumi, when someone is giving you a tour of the new city they are helping build, most will lead with their successes, not their failures,” Shion huffed. “You should be more understanding.”

“Afraid I’m all out of that,” Nezumi replied. “I think I’ll pitch a tent here— fancy some camping?”

Shion rolled his eyes, but Nezumi could tell by the way his mouth quirked that he was trying not to humor his sarcasm by laughing.

“I can’t believe the committees’ delicate fingers managed to pick up a shovel.”

“Multiple shovels actually,” Shion supplied. “They did work hard, even though they didn’t really know what they were doing. All of this was due to the …effort of our volunteers. Their hearts were in the right place.”

“Ah, yes, effort— the most important of all resources, right next to enthusiasm, whimsy, and glee.”

Shion shot him such a tired look that made Nezumi want to peel away his polite office posturing like the wrapping paper on a present.

“Truly, I can’t imagine putting a fence around something so selfless— the new city deserves to see such humble beauty everyday!”

“We didn’t intentionally hide it. It’s important to wear our mistakes as loudly as our successes, but… well.”

Nezumi leaned in. This would be good.

“Well?”

Shion shut his eyes, admitting, “We actually received too many complaints from people who accidentally…fell in. There’s a ladder but— stop laughing, Nezumi! I know how that sounds, but this was a serious problem. We didn’t want to risk anyone actually getting hurt by the committee’s first volunteer-driven nature project!”

There were actual tears in Nezumi’s eyes. He struggled to catch his breath. “You should have brought me here months ago, Shion. This is groundbreaking, or it would be, if they could actually break through— wait, pardon me, did they try to plant cattails? There’s barely any water— you think they’d try to fix that first.”

“I really wish they did,” Shion’s voice carried the weight of endless meetings. “They thought decorating around the pond would improve everything that was wrong with the foundation. At the time I was busy with other responsibilities and incorrectly assumed our volunteers had consulted with and were working with experts in park creation. We do have nice parks, you know. Functional ones.”

“Those did not look like this,” Nezumi emphasized. “This is something transcendent. An exercise in futility, an art piece, a— ”

“—A necessary learning experience for a new city,” Shion finished. “When our funders saw what it looked like, well. You couldn’t pay someone to take the land of their hands. They wanted it razed.”

Nezumi’s smile fell. “I can imagine.”

Shion was still looking at the water, and Nezumi put one and two together.

“So, Shion, when you said you had land in the city, this is what you meant?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, ever stubborn. “So if you could stop making fun of me for it, that would be great.”

This guy… Nezumi snaked an arm around Shion’s waist in tender mockery.

“There, there. You made the right call preserving this place. Books shall remember you as Shion: noble savior of cattails.”

Shion grunted, batting Nezumi’s arm away— but he wasn’t lying, actually. Nezumi loved it here. This place was perfect: born from the city, yet growing honestly in spite of it, beautiful in its own odd, stubborn, baffling way. A lot like…

Shion leaned down to attempt to fish a plastic bag out of the water— he couldn’t quite reach it. He was so close, but clearly too proud to ask for assistance. This was the greatest day of Nezumi’s life.

“Something to say, Shion?” Nezumi drawled, patiently waiting for Shion to snap at him or fall in the pond.

“It isn’t that funny,” Shion grouched, finding his third option— petulant grumbling.

“You are, though. Can’t believe all this luxury belongs to you,” Nezumi eased back, using a stick to lift the bag into Shion’s hand without any further teasing— a peace offering. “Here, unlike your committee, I am capable of using simple tools.”

“Thanks,” Shion replied flatly. “I’m sure that skill has been very useful in your life.”

Nezumi laughed, coaxing Shion closer in a playful side-hug. When Shion leaned into the embrace a new-yet-familiar heat warmed him to the tips of his toes. He still couldn’t let this drop without one more dig, though.

“Hold onto me,” he whispered dramatically, lips brushing Shion’s ear. “I heard on royal authority it’s a steep drop.”

Shion threw the bag at his face.

—

An hour later Nezumi was sitting with his toes skating above the water. Shion had dropped a lavender pill the size of a quarter in the liquid which dissolved with a sizzling sound and cleared away most of the murk. Good thing, too, as the very important city official was now waist deep in ugly pond and wading with devoted purpose.

Shion’s white hair seemed even fluffier in the spring light. Dressed down to his boxers, his red snaking scar was on full display. It dipped in and out of the liquid as he plodded around like a damp, sexy duckling. Nezumi had eyes— he was using them to the fullness of their potential.

For all his embarrassment, Shion was good at this. Obviously deeply familiar with the malicious and weird ecosystem in the lake, he was encouraging it to thrive with brief, expert contact. The still-too-low water now shimmered and the stubborn surviving plants were greener and more lush than they had any right to be.

Shion prattled on about the impressive resilience of bacterial life with relentless enthusiasm. Between assurances that the pill wouldn’t harm any of the creatures living in the water, he managed to work in detailed explanations of how the bacteria wouldn’t harm him, either.

“Orchestrated symbiosis, Nezumi,” he rambled, smiling wide. “We’ve made a lot of advancements.”

Nezumi hated that this was kind of turning him on. Shion really had no right to be so hot and so dumb and so infuriatingly brilliant at the same time. Something was seriously wrong with him, but Nezumi absolutely needed to get this conversation into more suggestive territory.

Shion hadn’t gotten the memo unfortunately. He had a lot of opinions on water-based illnesses.

“There’s skin rashes, infections….Oh, that’s not even taking into account the parasitic organisms that can survive in water like this,” he babbled, looking altogether too perky for any of those words in that order.

“And yet here you are,” Nezumi’s voice was a low purr— he was nothing if not determined in the face of impossible odds— “…Swimming.”

“Well, yes,” Shion replied with absolutely zero heat. “I have a great immune system!”

Nezumi questioned his place in the universe. “You’re the most frustrating person I have ever met.”

“I thought that was pretty logical, actually,” Shion countered, granting Nezumi a generous view of the wet skin of his back as he partially climbed up the ladder. “I’ve already survived the worst possible parasitic infection I could, after all.”

“That’s…” Nezumi began, and then gave up. There was no way to make this one sexual. “Not an incident I’m looking to repeat.”

“Me neither.”

At last, the conversation had finally waned— time to encourage a shift. Nezumi leaned back on his elbows. “You know, Shion—”

“—If anything, you’re far more likely to get sick than I am. I have more natural immunities,” Shion interrupted, and oh god, he was still thinking about parasites. “Well, probably anyway.”

He paused to shake the ladder, really testing the rusty metal in the loudest way possible. Wet, rhythmic thuds against the earthen wall filled the air. After a solid minute of this he released the bars, satisfied with their sturdiness. Nezumi pinched the bridge of his nose, and breathed out very slowly.

There was no salvaging this. He surrendered.

“Nezumi?” Shion asked.

“Yes?” he replied, without any actual irritation. Shion was Shion, after all. “More enticing facts about parasites for me?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to get in the water. You might not have my immune system, but if you get sick, I’ll take care of you.”

Nezumi opened his eyes, not expecting this opportunity, but refusing to let it skate by.

“Will you now?” He drawled, carefully tilting his head back to show off the pale skin of his throat in a way he knew was alluring.

Shion’s eyebrows drew together, a puzzled expression on his face. Not exactly horny but this was a step above damp ladder shaking, at least.

“I mean. Yes? I have medicine.”

An awkward pause. Nezumi waited patiently, holding Shion’s gaze. He half-smiled at the slight flush that had begun to spread across his face. Finally, he was catching on.

“What else do you have?” Nezumi asked, baiting the hook.

“I’m not entirely sure what you mean by that, Nezumi,” Shion floundered. Something stupid fluttered in Nezumi’s chest. “I didn’t really mean anything by that comment. I just thought it’d be nice to look after you.”

“Please tell me you’re not the type to fantasize about me catching the plague, Shion,” Nezumi teased, voice lowering. “You always did like playing nurse.”

Shion broke his gaze, abruptly shy. His ears were bright red. There it was.

“Nezumi, I…”

“Mmhm?” Nezumi replied lazily, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

“Are you trying to initiate something? This is a very weird place to do that.”

Now it was Nezumi’s turn to choke.

“It isn’t that weird— we’re in relative private, and you own this ‘park’. Besides, the screen walls are dark and there’s a lock on the gate. You mean to tell me you’re not interested?”

“It isn’t that, Nezumi,” Shion argued, a little too quickly. Got him.

“Then why don’t I join you in the water?” Nezumi drawled, running his hand up his thigh to the base of his shirt. Swiftly, he pulled it over his head.

Shion, to his surprise, barely reacted. His face was a disturbing neutral.

“Actually, I don’t know,” Shion said, voice flat. “You made fun of me a lot before and I’d hate to throw off the pond ecosystem by doing something so irresponsible.”

That move never failed him; Nezumi’s stomach dropped. “You’re serious?”

“Not at all,” Shion said, swimming over, a pleased, sparkling, vengeance in his eyes. “Sometimes I want to tease you too, Nezumi. Now take your pants off, please.”

“Asshole.” Nezumi glared, even as his shaking fingers fumbled with his fly. “How is it that you’re perceptive only when it doesn’t benefit me?”

“I recognize your techniques by now, even if I don’t always pick up on them immediately,” Shion teased, tilting his head in a slightly clumsy way that very much matched Nezumi’s own bedroom look earlier. Nezumi flipped him off before shimmying out of his pants and underwear. Shion’s grin melted into something sweet and approving.

“I still think this could benefit you, Nezumi.”

Damn him. “I suppose we’ll have to find out. Step aside, Your Majesty, I’m coming in.”

“It’s—”

“—A drop, I’m well aware, I think I’ll manage—”

“—Wait, Nezumi!”

Nezumi had survived much longer falls, but the frantic way Shion’s hands hooked around his waist was definitely something new. The fall wasn’t even intense enough for Shion to actually catch him— Nezumi’s feet hit the soft sand of the pond floor in seconds— but that was clearly his intent. The stupid thing in Nezumi’s chest squeezed, and for a moment, he felt oddly weightless, held by Shion in his dumb, half-empty, pond.

“Nice try,” he offered, tilting his head. They were close enough now that he could only fondly stare into one of Shion’s concerned eyes. “I didn’t think you’d actually try to catch me.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to twist your ankle,” Shion replied, warm breath tickling Nezumi’s cheeks. “That happened to—”

Nezumi kissed him, as if he could do anything else. Shion’s fingers curled against his back and scarred-but-healing bodies pressed as close as they could in the damp.

“Glad you tested out that ladder, I think we’re about to give it some use.”

Shion’s voice was all curiosity. “Wait, how?”

“We could theorize, but I think you’ll enjoy the practical application much more,” Nezumi teased, fingers linking with Shion’s under the water. “Besides, it sounds like I need to show you some new techniques.”

Shion’s wet palm slid against his, displaying all the clumsy confidence Nezumi couldn’t get enough of, as they sloshed forward.

“I think I can show you a few too, Nezumi.”

Nezumi laughed, pulling him in.

“Maybe next time. I feel like teaching you something for once. Pay attention, okay?”

#submission #no. 6 #No. 6 Secret Santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #ulkonja #secretagentfan

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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To: Da_Roble_ on twitter

From: @blueshift-art

merry christmas! you mentioned wanting something to do with a nezushi reunion so i thought to call back to some imagery from their first meeting in that scenario :) (as well as a bonus alternate color version)

#submission #no. 6 #nezumi #shion #nezushi #blueshift-art #da_roble_#da roble

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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From: @mariaashby64

To: @miszoblin

“Oh!” Inukashi blinked as the scent of warm fur washed over him. “I guess that blabbering Shion was right.” He began to laugh. “Being able to spend Christmas with your family really is the best gift of all!”

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #inukashi #mariaashby64 #miszoblin

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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Spring is Coming

From: @dragons-of-ara

To: @pigeonsimba https://www.tumblr.com/pigeonsimba

Author’s note: Happy holidays! I wanted to fulfill your request of having a Fantasy AU and cuddling. I tried to put in some miscommunication but I’m not sure how well I did. It’s not my strongest point when it comes to writing. This is loosely based on the book Sofi and The Bone Song. I mostly stuck to No.6 things so you wouldn’t need to read the book to understand this AU. Mostly the world idea and the ending were inspired by the book. Also the song at the end is the English lyrics to the Amier song ‘Haru wa Yuku.’ That’s also where this fic got it’s title. Hope you like it!

For as long as Shion could remember the city of Kronos had been trapped in a cycle of never-ending winter. The trees leaves had always remained bare and thick blankets of snow covered the ground rather than greenery. His mother had spoken about those times before. Her words painted beautiful images of a rainbow of flowers, the blue skies, the way the tree’s leaves would become red, orange and yellow in the fall. Shion had seen paintings of the other seasons but none of them seemed to compare to the images in his mind. As he worked in the back Shion couldn’t help but think of those beautiful images of spring, long for a time he couldn’t remember.Shion was grateful when his mother came to the back to take over the baking, pulling him from such thoughts. “Safu’s here,” Karan told Shion as he passed by to make his way to the front.Shion let out a sigh of relief at that. The bakery could always use an extra set of hands, one of the reasons Shion had never gone for higher education. The debt left behind by his father still weighed too heavily for his mother to be able to hire an extra set of hands around the bakery. And Shion had no idea what he would even do in the future, at least helping with the bakery was a short term goal. It wasn’t unusual for the bakery to be crowded. It was a place of warmth that offered food, both of which were harder to come across in Lost Town. Food distributions had less rations in them than the day before or so it seemed. “That was the last of the cherry cake,” Safu was calling at the line when Shion arrived up front. “If that’s the only thing you were here for then you can go now.”There were several grumbles and a few people choosing to yell swear words on their way out. However, Safu’s tone made it clear she was having no arguments, and that if anyone wanted to say something to her face she’d show them where the door was. “They’re gone already?” Shion repeated. “But mom made as many as she could and set a limit to one slice per customer.” “Don’t sound so surprised. It’s not like fruit is easy to get these days. When’s the last time you remember fresh fruit being distributed?” Safu responded. Shion couldn’t really argue with that. “If only spring would return then we wouldn’t have to worry about things like that.” An elderly man stood in front of Shion now. He spoke in a hushed voice so Shion could barely hear him. “You know my grandfather told me a story about a time when the world was covered in snow like this. He said that the saints carried spring in their voices. With a song they could make flowers bloom from the snow.” “Oh that sounds…”

Shion was thankfully spared from having to think of a response as the man ordered in a normal tone. As if he hadn’t just said something completely strange. The rest of the day seemed to pass in a daze. Shion tried to keep himself in the present but his mind kept wandering to what the old man had said. He swore he could almost picture the song being sung. Soft and warm like a lullaby“Hey space case! Don’t make me and Karan clean up by ourselves,” Safu was waving a hand in front of Shion’s face. “S-sorry,” Shion stammered out as he grabbed the can of trash and went out the backdoor with it, to drop it off in the alley. The cold winter air stung at Shion’s face. It was almost as if the world itself was mocking him for the daydreams of spring finally returning. That cruel whisper that said that something as simple as a song couldn’t save the world. He was pulled out of his thoughts again, this time by a hand that clasped itself around his mouth. “Don’t make a sound. Do what I say,” a voice purred in his ear. Shion nodded to the best of his ability. He couldn’t turn to see his attacker but the voice told him it was definitely a man. Shion’s gaze flickered to the door of the bakery, praying that Safu and Karan wouldn’t come out. “Good boy. I need bandages. And if you even think of alerting the authorities you’ll pay.” The hand was removed but the man’s presence was hovering close behind Shion, threatening him to do as he was told. “You’re injured?” Shion asked, whirling around to look at how bad the injury was. His eyes met the man’s and Shion couldn’t pull his gaze away. Gray eyes. They were not the same as the gray clouds that lingered in the sky during the day. Those clouds were cold and dull whereas these eyes were warm and full of life, full of fire. After a few seconds (though it felt like hours) Shion was able to look away from those captivating eyes to look at the injury. A nasty deep gnash on the man’s shoulder. Without proper treatment it would end up infected. “Do you know how to treat that?” Shion asked.”If not I can help take care of it but…” He couldn’t exactly bring him in through the door. “If I open that window would you be able to climb up?” Shion pointed at his bedroom window. It was a long shot but he couldn’t think of a better option. “Let me get this straight. I threaten you and your instinct is to invite me into your home,” the man said slowly. His face remained carefully blank, betraying none of what he was feeling. “You’re hurt,” Shion replied. “If you can’t climb it I can try coming back out. But it’s going to be harder for me to come out.” “And you can’t climb down the wall because…?” “I’ve never tried before. I’d probably end up breaking my neck if I did. Besides I’ll need to gather supplies, you can use that time to climb it.” “Unbelievable.” The man shook his head.“I’ll meet you up there.” Shion made his way back to the bakery where his mother and Safu were wrapping up the last bit of cleaning, wiping down the counters. Shoin felt a little twist in his stomach at making them do it all and promised himself he’d make it up to them later.“We were beginning to think that you weren’t coming back,” Safu said teasingly. Her expression changed to a more serious one at the look on Shion’s face. “Are you alright?” “Yeah I just ended up spacing out while I was watching the snow. It’s been a long day, I think I just need to head to bed. Safu will you be okay walking home alone?” Shion felt worse at the lie and the fact he was asking Safu to walk alone. “Well yes but-” Impatience and worry tugged Shion to the stairs. “I’ll see you later, have a good night!” He called to Safu.He was going to owe her big after this. He was quick to make it to his room and open the window wide open, shivering as a gust of cold wind invaded. He had to work quickly to gather everything before his mother decided to come upstairs. Thankfully the first aid kit in the bathroom was right across from Shion’s room. Returning with the kit and a towel Shion was shocked to see the man was already in the room. He was leaning against the bed, his cloak discarded on the floor. “I’m going to need to cut the sleeve to get to the wound.”The man shrugged. “Do whatever you need to do.”

As Shion applied disinfectant to the wound he was aware of the man watching him like a hawk. It took everything for Shion not to look up and get lost in those beautiful strange eyes. His brow furrowed as he forced himself to focus on the task on hand.“You’re weird just so you know.” “What makes you say that?” “I missed where it was ever considered normal to be kind to someone who threatened your life, especially when you don’t even know their name.”“It’s not like you know my name either,” Shion replied. The two sat in silence as Shion finished applying the disinfectant. “I’m Shion by the way.” “Nezumi.”“Nezumi?” That couldn’t be right. Nothing about him seemed very rodent-like. If anything he brought images of the sunrise after a storm. Shion pulled out a syringe next, flicking at it to make sure to pop any air bubbles. He could feel Nezumi leaning away from him. Glancing up he could see that Nezumi was staring at the syringe apprehensively. “What are you planning with that?” “It’s anesthetic, I’ll need to numb your arm before I stitch it.” Nezum scowled as he held his arm out. “At least you can pretend you don’t like this. I don’t know if I should trust you when you’re grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.”“Am I?” Shion realized now there was indeed a huge grin on his face. “Well it’s not everyday that I get to do something like this.” “How exciting for you,” Nezumi responded dryly. Shion ignored that and focused on giving several injections into Nezumi’s arm. Once he was done he leaned on the bed next to where Nezumi was already doing so.

“What happened to your arm? It looks like a gun wound but that’s impossible. The guards would never allow such a crime.” “Really? Because last time I checked I’m very much here. And sadly this is real too.” Nezumi gestured at his wound as he spoke. Shion bit his lip. “Ask it.”“Who shot you?”Nezumi gave a laugh with no warmth behind it. “Your precious little guard who’s supposed to stop this from happening.”“Your arm should be numb enough.” Shion announced as he pulled out the supplies to sew the wound. Thankfully this gave him something to focus on rather than Nezumi words. It meant Shion could ignore the way this information left his head reeling.“There we go,” he said once he was done. He leaned back to examine his work. Nezumi lifted his arm and turned it to get a better look at Shion’s handiwork. “Not bad. Seems like you actually do know a thing or two.” Shion started to say something but the words were lost when there was a knock on Shions’s door. Beside him Nezumi tensed and his eyes flickered to the door. Shion gave him a soft, reassuring smile before calling, “Yeah mom?” “Hi honey I know you said you’re tired but I wanted to let you know I made some soup for dinner. And there’s still half of a cherry cake left,” Karan called through the door.Beside him Nezumi’s stomach let out a loud gurgle.“Thanks mom.” It was taking Shion everything to fight back laughter at Nezumi scowling at his stomach. Apparently Shion wasn’t doing a good job because Nezumi’s glare turned to him. “If you want I can bring you some,” Shion offered as a peace offering.“Are you sure?” Shion nodded before making his way down the stairs. He got as much as he possibly could while still leaving enough for his mother. He could just give Nezumi his portion for tonight and tomorrow, it would be okay. Shion would be able to sneak a couple pieces of bread. Once he made his way back up Shion set the tray in front of Nezumi. “Sorry it’s not a lot but I hope you still like-”“It’s fine,” Nezumi murmured. “Thank you.” Shion watched as Nezumi devoured the food. Shion’s eyes kept falling to Nezumi’s shoulder. With nothing to keep his mind occupied the questions were finally becoming thoughts. “Why would the guard shoot you?” He asked once Nezumi finished his dinner.Nezumi set the tray aside and stared up at Shion so intensely that Shion had to look away. “Do you understand what you’re asking? This little city isn’t as perfect as you’d like to think it is,” Nezumi said. “There are things that you’re better off knowing. For your sake and for the sake of everyone around you.” Nezumi jerked his head in the direction of the door. “I see….” Shion didn’t, he felt more questions at Nezumi’s statement. “Don’t ask anything else. I’m going to sleep now, if you want to sleep in the bed tonight get in here now. I’m not going to deal with you waking me up in an hour or two when you get tired.”“You want to sleep in the same bed?” Shion couldn’t help how loud he asked that. “There’s still an eternal winter out there. It’ll be better to share body heat and stay warm while we have a chance to do so.” Shion wasn’t going to argue against that logic. Once they were both on the bed Nezumi put his arm over Shion and buried his face into the nook of Shion’s neck. “I forgot that living people are warm,” Nezumi muttered into Shion’s skin. *****“On my own, I wasn’t еven able

To make mysеlf vanish

How cowardly and selfish I am

Darkened by the shadow I can never redeem myself from

Is the place where we made our promise

The peak of the flowers’ blooming season.”The soft melody was being sung far away enough that Shion could only barely make it out. He didn’t leave his bed, or even open his eyes, out of fear that the song would stop. That this was actually some pleasant dream.“Unfeeling of both sin and love, spring goes on

The only sparkling lights here are the glimmers in the sky

Please, never grant me any undeserved forgiveness

I want to be destroyed, and I want to be remade

By your side"Shion laid still, hoping to hear more of the angelic voice. After what felt like hours the cold chill in his room was finally beginning to get to him so Shion reluctantly sat up. His hand brushed against the empty spot on the bed next to him.‘Nezumi, were you a part of that strange dream?’Shion scanned the room. There was still a tray with the dirty dishes on it. But the jacket that had been on the floor was now gone. The first aid kit was nowhere to be found either, even in the bathroom where it was usually kept. Shion slipped into the back alley where they had met. The snow no longer had any spots of red on it and Shoin couldn’t find footprints anywhere. Not even leading away from his bedroom window. But there was a small object in the snow right where those footprints should have been. Kneeling down Shion could see it was a small flower. An aster tataricus, Shion recognized it from a picture he had seen in a textbook.Plucking it Shion held it close to this chest. The words of the old man echoed through Shion’s mind. He didn’t know if Nezumi was one of the saints that the old man had spoken of or not. It hardly mattered at this point. Shion knew that one day he would see the ending of winter and one day he would meet with Nezumi again. ‘Thank you for this gift Nezumi. I’ll cherish this feeling forever.’

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #pigeonsimba #dragons-of-ara

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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For @shionsnezumi6

From: @dreamingsap

They wanted Nezumi crying and Shion comforting him.

I figure Shion would rush to give his crying Nezumi a hug. I hope you like it!

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #shionsnezumi6 #dreamingsap

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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From: @warmmarmalade

To: @xwhenyouwakeupx

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #warmmarmelade #milquegh0st #xwhenyouwakeupx

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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From: @ulkonja

To: @raaindropps

Cheers!

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #safu #ulkonja #raaindropps

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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From: kerminty

To: @glorifiedscapegoat

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #kerminty #glorifiedscapegoat

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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From: @bee-archivist (with @z3phyros)

To: @dreamingsap

Hi dreamingsap! Please see the attached link, since the content is too long for a tumblr post. What you'll see in the fic I've attached is a role play between my partner, z3phyros, and myself, with them playing Rat and myself playing Shion. I have been having a lot of unexpected issues with my health for the past month. I wasn't able to dedicate the time and energy to my Secret Santa gift and I wanted to apologize for that. I hope what I'm providing might still make you smile.

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #dreamingsap #bee-archivist #z3phyros

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

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The one who is wise in mind sits apart in meditation

To/giftee: @aowyn

From/URL: @whims-of-insane-fandoms

Happy Holidays!

Dear aowyn,

I hope that I met some of the prompt for your Secret Santa assignment! Unfortunately, I got sick after finishing this fic so I couldn’t edit it so excuse any bad grammatical errors. Barring that, I loved doing this and this also challenged me to do a pov that is not Nezumi or Shion’s. I have never written a Safu pov so thank you for allowing me to do so and especially in a Safu lives AU (mostly based on the manga). I didn’t get to do everything from the prompt, but I hope that the narrative was enjoyable for you.

I think Safu and Nezumi can become best friends in due time and I’d like to believe Nezumi doesn’t really leave in this au. Safu and Shion are platonic soulmates and Nezumi and Shion are romantic soulmates. The three of them bond with their love that was strained thanks to No. 6’s actions but they’re the winners. Safu, Shion and Nezumi win in this au.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

-whims

Safu had become used to staring aimlessly up at the ceiling, arms and legs outstretched in the bed. It had become a strange habit of her to lay in bed like this, but the habit had been unbroken for two weeks. She had become used to the freedom of being able to move her limbs, to not have her limbs strapped down in the operating table or to have her conscience exist outside of her own body. The softness and warmth of her bed was always a grounding reminder that she wasn’t in that dreadful and cold correctional facility and her nightmares of that place could only harm her mind rather than her body.

Surprisingly, she had woken up today without a scream being ripped from her throat due to the memory of those dark days. The less she thought about those painful memories, the foggier they became. It was helpful that she had become preoccupied with other thoughts and memories.

Safu slowly eased her way to the edge of the bed where her wheelchair was waiting for her. The reminder of her current condition made her want to curl up in bed and stay there. However, she refused to do that. She was lucky and grateful to be alive.

She was lucky to have a working body at all, was lucky that Elyurias had taken pity for her plight and had preserved her body and conscious after the destruction of the correctional facility. Science deemed her resurrection impossible and Safu still thought it was impossible. She was dead, her brain ripped out of her body with no way of being a human again.

Shion and Karan called her resurrection a miracle.

She could still remember the moment she had awoken in a hospital bed, wondering if the afterlife really was real, and felt a warm hand on hers. She remembered turning her head to see Shion asleep holding her hand, a blanket covering his shoulders. There had been fresh tears on his eyes, and, for a moment, she thought she was dreaming.

This is no dream, a voice inside her head had told her, think of this as my gift to you to truly make you happy.

When Shion had woken up, it had been to the embarrassing sight of her crying, thanking Elyurias for letting her have this chance to live, to see Shion again, to let her live alongside Shion and for truly making her feel satisfied.

Safu got on the wheelchair with no trouble this time. She’d become particularly good at maneuvering her way through it after so long being wheelchair bound. Despite Elyurias saving her life and reuniting her with her body, the goddess could not completely negate the effects of her brain being outside her body for a long period of time. Her body needed time to relearn things she had taken for granted before, like walking or running or easily curling her toes. Until she fully recovered, she would have to use a wheelchair indefinitely.

It didn’t matter to Safu how long she had to use the wheelchair for.

All that mattered is that she was still alive.

Safu wheeled her way to the door, opening it and wheeling out to the hallway. It was still early in the morning, so she wondered if Shion was awake yet. Recently, he woke up much later than normal, staying in bed until he couldn’t anymore. A traitorous and green-faced side of her reminded her that he had a very human-shaped reason to stay curled up in bed, but she ignored that thought and headed to the kitchen.

“Safu, you’re up early!”

Safu was startled to see Karan, Shion’s mother, already awake and finishing a batch of bread for her bakery. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and Safu noticed it had gotten slightly longer. She had some flour in her apron and she was smiling brightly.

Safu was grateful to see Karan. Ever since she had been found in the ruins of the correctional facility, there had been talk about where she would go after being discharged. Her old home had been already sold and she had no other living family. However, it was Karan that had shut down all conversations and demanded that Safu come live with her and Shion. Karan had been the one that had advocated for her by talking with the doctors on her behalf. Karan had done so much for her when Shion had to deal with issues regarding the dissolution of No. 6 and West Block and other outdated things No. 6 had.

It was Karan that was by Safu’s side almost every day since she awoke when Shion had to deal with other matters. Karan was the one that always attended her visits with the doctor as they checked on her progress. Karan was the one that helped her bathe in the first days, before Safu could properly move her arms.

In these two weeks, Karan had become Safu’s closest friend.

Safu smiled, “Good morning, ma’am, I thought you’d still be in bed.”

“I couldn’t stay asleep any time longer and decided to get a head start. Do you want some bread? Fresh off the oven.”

“Yes, please.”

Karan set down a plate of food and Safu noticed there was another plate and a mug with steam rising from it. With a start, Safu realized someone else was awake and, based on the smell of coffee, it was the one person she still had a hard time understanding.

“Morning.”

Nezumi strolled in from another part of the house, nibbling one of Karan’s breads. His hair was down, an unusual thing to see from him since Safu had mostly seen him with his hair up, and he was wearing some of Shion’s clothes. She remembered that Shion had told her that his clothes were dirty and had to be washed.

There it was again, that pit on the bottom of her stomach that made her feel green. Safu recognized it easily, she wasn’t oblivious to her feelings. She was jealous of Nezumi. She buried those feelings away, but they always found a way to creep back without her wanting them to come back.

She’d wondered a lot who Shion loved. What was that person like? That curiosity had stemmed many years ago since Shion had adopted that faraway gaze, his eyes always seemingly looking at something none of them could see. His eyes were always gazing into a distance, the look that were described in books when wives waited for their husbands to come back after a long separation.

It had resurfaced again that day when they’d encountered the mouse, before she left to study abroad and when she had made her intentions and feelings clear. While she had confessed, Shion had still remained with that calm and cool expression. It hurt to remember it and it also hurt when she remembered him finally show emotion and chase after the phantom he longed for.

Even when she desperately wanted to see Shion during her captivity in the correctional facility, her thoughts had still wondered to who that special person in Shion’s life was. Who was the person that made Shion act so differently? Who was the person by Shion’s side?

When she first met Nezumi, she understood.

“Is Shion still in bed?” Karan said in a tone only a mother could pull off.

Nezumi shook his head, “Yes and no to that. He’s awake, it’s just the prince is planning for today’s trip.”

Karan smiled, “Oh, right. Shion was talking to me yesterday about all the different places he was going to show you and Safu. Safu, are you excited to explore the area that used to be West Block?”

Safu smiled and nodded, “Of course. I’m especially excited to properly meet Inukashi. Shion talks very fondly of their hotel and their dogs.”

On the third day of being back in her body, Shion had talked to her about West Block. About Rikigia, Inukashi and even the children that Shion had come to talk to. He talked about the dog hotel and his days spent helping clean the dogs and about the theater and the many different shops. He especially talked about the place that Shion called ‘home’, the place where he and Nezumi lived during his time away from No. 6.

“There’s so many books, Safu!” He’d excitedly chattered that night, curled up in the bed next to her, “So many books that I know you’ll want to read. It’s really cozy there too so you can stay there for hours reading. Nezumi and I can read with you there!”

Yes, she was very excited to see these places she’d only heard of. Places that made Shion’s eyes glint with joy and mirth in a way that No. 6 could never truly invoke from him. It was also the difference in how he saw her and how he saw Nezumi. The comparison made Safu sick because she was comparing herself to the same No. 6 that tormented her, Shion, Nezumi and countless others.

Karan sat down, eating some bread, and offering Safu her own plate as promised. Safu thanked her and the three of them began to eat their breakfast quietly. Safu found the silence enjoyable. It felt so easy to eat breakfast when she had such good company.

“Don’t get too excited with the dogs, Safu,” Nezumi warned, “Shion and Inukashi really like them, but those mutts are a handful.”

“Nezumi,” Karan chided him, “they’re very lovely animals. Oh, Safu, you’ll simply adore them. Their fur is very soft, and the dogs are so mild mannered. Inukashi is also very respectful and kind.”

“They only appear that way with you, ma’am. Inukashi is very rude so prepare yourself for that.”

Safu chuckled as Karan playfully scolded Nezumi while Nezumi cheekily spoke with her. Nezumi was so witty, a testament to his brilliance that Safu was aware he had. It made sense that he was brilliant, she’d noticed how intelligent and intense his gray eyes were the moment they met. Even if the two of them had not been in the best shape when they first met, she knew Nezumi was brilliant.

After all, he was the one Shion had fallen for.

“Good morning!”

Safu turned her head and saw Shion grinning at them from the hallway. She offered her own smile as Shion grabbed one of the breads that Karan offered him. He ate it and hugged his mother. Karan laughed, chiding him softly, as Shion turned to look at her. Shion enveloped her in a warm hug and Safu felt herself feel lighter.

Shion hadn’t changed completely like she’d feared. Yes, Shion had lost that faraway gaze of his and he was more open in his affection. He had more confidence now, too. However, there were parts of him that had been irreparably changed due to what No. 6 had done to him.

Shion’s pale white hair and his striking red eyes and the red snake-like scar that was all around his body replaced the image of the boy she had grown up knowing. His eyes, his hair and his skin were so different. There were also nights where she was made aware of his mental and psychological changes when she heard him screaming in the dead of night. Shion never talked to her about it, only asking about how she was doing, and it worried Safu. Like he felt that he couldn’t truly tell her the extent of his pain, of his trauma.

Do you talk to Nezumi about it?

Safu wanted to ask Shion that question so desperately. What was the extent of Nezumi’s position as the one Shion allowed to stay by his side, the one Shion loved? Was Nezumi the one comforting Shion after his nightmares? Was he sweet and gentle with Shion or was he callous and cold? Did the two of them exchange horror stories about what No. 6 had done to them? Did they find comfort tangled in their shared bed, gripping their hands, and knowing that this was all real? Safu could not relate, could not understand, when she woke up to nightmares with no one by her side.

What a depressing thought.

“Safu, whenever you’re ready, we’ll get going!” Shion said, pulling back with his eyes glinting in excitement, “We have so much to see today!”

For some reason, Safu felt a sharp pain in her chest looking at Shion. Something about his smile looked so. . . un-Shion-like. It was more strained and almost rehearsed. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but Nezumi spoke first, asking him to at least let them enjoy their nice breakfast. Shion took time convincing to do that but, luckily, the four of them were able to enjoy a nice breakfast before she was going to have her grand tour.

After breakfast, Safu, Shion and Nezumi made their way to what was formerly West Block. Thanks to Shion’s efforts, the wall had come down and there was easy access to and from the two areas. Shion had also advocated for aid to be given to the poor individuals that had been forsaken by the unfeeling officials of No. 6 so there were still many tents at the old border. There were medical tents where doctors gave the residents free checkups and food tents that gave the needy free food so they would not go to bed hungry. Overall, Shion expected there to be a lot of people they had to carefully navigate through as they were the “talk of the city” as Nezumi so eloquently put it.

Sadly, Karan could not go with them in their venture to the slowly recovering slums since she had to tend to her bakery. There was an explosion in clients due to her amazing baking skills, all of them clamoring for a taste of her delicious pastries. Safu was sad that she wouldn’t go with them, but she didn’t mind so much when Nezumi and Shion were such good guides.

Shion helped push her wheelchair, pointing at markets where Nezumi would haggle for their food while Nezumi added a comment or two to make fun of him. Sometimes, Nezumi would be open with them and admit to something that had happened to him in the years he first spent living in West Block. Those stories painted a very tragic picture of Nezumi’s already horrific past, but Nezumi waved away her sympathy.

“He does that often,” Shion whispered to her as Nezumi went to get them some snacks from a place Shion loved to eat from, “He doesn’t like to be pitied, despite how sad it was for him.”

“He’s very proud, isn’t he?”

“Proud and too stubborn to let anyone see him as weak,” Shion agreed.

“You two better not be gossiping about me.” Nezumi shot back.

“Never,” Shion said, looking at Safu and shooting her a wink.

When she laughed, Nezumi looked a bit annoyed but, surprisingly, was also smiling when he saw Shion smiling. Now that she thought about it, Nezumi looked more relaxed than she ever remembered seeing him. He was still on edge, but it was clear that was a result of habit rather than feeling unsafe. He glanced over his shoulders and his hand inside his jacket pocket clutched something he no longer had there.

He also kept looking back to look at Shion, another habit that apparently formed because he didn’t want to lose Shion in the crowd. Every time Shion led them somewhere with excitement, Safu could see the fondness and adoration in Nezumi’s eyes.

Nezumi loved Shion, just as much as Shion loved him. They didn’t express this love openly, but they didn’t need to. Sometimes, Nezumi would linger close to Shion, eyes fixated on the boy who was engrossed in something else. Other times, Shion would touch Nezumi and continue touching him even if he didn’t have to. It made Safu jealous to see this because she still loved Shion despite everything.

However, it was clear that Shion loved her too.

While Shion stared at Nezumi with love, he didn’t hesitate to look at her with a similar gaze. She knew it was love, just not romantic. Shion didn’t have that faraway look when he looked at her. He was actually looking at her, smiling at her, basking in her presence.

It occurred to Safu that her near death experience and their separation had truly rattled Shion. While he had loved her before, his expressions told her that he loved her more deeply now. When he stared at her now, it was as if he were looking at something extremely precious. . . or could it be possible that Shion always looked at her with this level of affection, but she had been too busy focusing on his faraway gaze to notice the extent of his love for her?

Shion was a mystery, she concluded, and he kept mysterious company.

“The hotel is right around here,” Nezumi said, looking bored and disgruntled.

“Nezumi, be nice,” Shion laughed, “Inukashi misses you. You’ve been avoiding going to meet them here.”

Nezumi huffed, “It’s because of Shion.”

Safu frowned, “Shion. . .?”

“Not me,” Shion clarified, “Shion is a baby that Inukashi is taking care of. I found him after. . . I found him when he had no one to take care of him. That’s around the time Nezumi and I were picked up by the correctional facility, so I sent him to Inukashi.”

“And Inukashi has been attached to the little kid since,” Nezumi snickered, “Who knew they had any parental instincts? Maybe their mother did actually gave them positive qualities.”

Shion rolled his eyes and, with that, rolled Safu in the direction of the hotel. True to his word, the place was filled with many dogs and, just like Karan said, they were kind and soft. Inukashi was exactly as Nezumi and Shion described them. Karan could see the positives that Shion saw while also seeing those other traits Nezumi talked about.

“So you’re Safu, huh?” Inukashi asked, eying her with sharp eyes.

They were clever and inquisitive, reminding her a lot of Nezumi. They also had a foul mouth but, like Shion had told her, they were honest and charming. Unlike Nezumi, however, Inukashi was less guarded with her. Safu thought it was not their norm based on what Nezumi had talked about and she was proven right when they redirected their attention to the small baby they were taking care of.

“So, as someone who lived in that horrible place, what do you think of our charming, shitty neighborhood?” Inukashi asked, bouncing the baby on their leg.

“It’s very. . . real.” Safu admitted, “Nothing about this place is artificial. Everything here that is beautiful is because it’s natural. It’s nothing like the beautiful places in No. 6. It’s so. . . lively.”

“Great, you are as smart as Shion said you were.”

Safu smiled, “And you are just as described. Less rude than Shion and Nezumi made you out to be, though.”

“Give them a minute or two.” Nezumi retorted.

Shion laughed, patting Inukashi’s head, “Trust me, Safu will never see that side of Inukashi. Not while baby Shion is here.”

“Hey, don’t make me out to be too nice,” Inukashi said, almost pouting, “I have a reputation to hold, Shion!”

“Ah, of course, the world will end if people know you’re soft on your friends,” Shion said, winking at Safu.

“Hey!”

Shion and Inukashi led her through the hotel, Nezumi pushing her wheelchair when she got tired of wheeling it. Shion pointed out many dogs and said their names while Inukashi told her that there was another pregnant stray they had found. Based on the dog’s physique, Inukashi figured they would give birth soon and asked if Shion could come to see the birth. Shion promised he and Safu would be there, and she found it odd that Nezumi would not join them for the puppy birth.

They ate food in Inukashi’s hotel, enjoying the light breeze and the sunlight in their outdoor picnic. Inukashi and Nezumi bickered playfully while Shion pointed out to her more dogs. Inukashi kept praising Karan’s bread and Safu asked if Inukashi would let her spend a night here with one of their dogs. Nezumi tried to discourage that, but Shion said it would be a great idea for a sleepover with her, Karan, and himself. Again, strangely enough, Nezumi was absent from this plan.

By the time they left the hotel, Inukashi informed them that Rikigia had gone to visit Karan in her bakery so they wouldn’t be able to visit him. Instead, Shion decided that this was the perfect time to go to the place where he and Nezumi lived while Shion was in exile. Nezumi agreed and, with that, they set off to that old, quaint room filled with books that Shion always talked about.

“Welcome, Safu, to our home!”

It was a small room, as expected, with things like a bed, a cute table in the middle, a couch, and other knick-knacks. It was nothing compared to the luxury of some of the homes in No. 6, but Safu immediately loved this place. Not only that but, true to all the stories of this place, this room was filled with books. Safu had never seen real books like this, used to the e-papers that No. 6 relied on. However, upon touching the spine of a book called Don Quixote, she realized she was equally enamored by these books.

“Do you have every book in existence?”

“No, I’m not the Library of Alexandria.”

Safu snickered, picking up a book with no title, “Can I read these?”

“That’s what books are for,” Nezumi replied, picking up a book and giving it to her, “Try this one.”

“Hamlet?”

“I think you’ll like it.”

Safu nodded, opening it to the first page. She began to read, finding herself engrossed by the story as she learned about the ghost of a dead king appearing before people. As she began to read about the succeeding king and the heir, the titular Hamlet, she could see that Shion and Nezumi were moving around the room. She was going to ignore them until she saw Shion give Nezumi a bag filled with things like matches, water bottles and other supplies.

“What are you two doing?”

Shion jumped and Nezumi closed the bag. Shion looked at her and gave her a strained smile, as if he was going to lie to her. Nezumi did nothing but stare at her, as if already expecting a scolding for something.

“We’re just-.”

“Packing.”

“Packing? To move this stuff to your mom’s house, Shion?”

Shion hesitated before shaking his head. Nezumi opened his mouth, as if to explain when Shion grabbed his arm. Something was wrong. Something had changed. No, that wasn’t correct. Nothing changed, it was just that she was going to finally get clarity on . . . on what? What was it that she had not realized.

“Shion? What’s going on?”

“Safu. . .” Shion sighed, sounding defeated in a way that made Safu’s chest ache, “Nezumi is. . . Nezumi is leaving.”

Safu’s eyes widened as Shion avoided her gaze. Nezumi was quiet, still holding onto the bag. She looked at the two of them again and could see how defeated Shion looked. His shoulders were slumped, and she finally understood why Shion had looked so sad before.

“Where is he going?”

Nezumi shrugged, “I’m leaving this place and going out to the world.”

An exploration? It fit Nezumi’s wandering, inquisitive nature.

“When will you come back?”

Nezumi shook his head, “Safu, I don’t have a place to come back to.”

Shion put back a book on the shelf, avoiding her gaze. She knew that he did that when he didn’t want her to guess how he was feeling. Safu knew exactly how he felt. Shion must have been destroyed.

She knew what Nezumi was to Shion. Nezumi was a thief that had stolen a part of Shion’s self for himself, and Shion had stolen a piece of Nezumi for himself. They were intertwined, star-crossed lovers that were hopefully meant to live together for a long time. One without the other was lost and they would rather die together than have one live and the other die. They would do anything for each other, would be willing to live on for the sake of the other despite their traumas and scars.

To hear Nezumi wanted to leave and leave Shion behind as if those bonds were not there, as if Shion’s pain couldn’t destroy him. . . it was too cruel. Safu didn’t want Nezumi to leave. He couldn’t leave. Not when she was beginning to understand this person.

Safu liked Nezumi. Her affection towards him could never be the same as how she felt about Shion, but she had come to hold Nezumi in high regard. Nezumi was the one that had broken through Shion’s seemingly apathetic existence and breathed life into him. Nezumi had been the one to protect Shion, had nearly died for Shion and had lived for Shion.

Nezumi was kind to her, even if it was in his own way. He had understood her intentions in the correctional facility, had honored her wishes and had even mourned her. While Karan and Shion were the ones most involved in her care, Nezumi was the one that had made her laugh for the first time after returning her body. Nezumi had been the one that had not treated her like she was fragile. He respected her and it made her respect him, in turn.

Nezumi was kind, intelligent, witty, scholarly, strong, rude, and cynical. He was able to be vulnerable and open despite being so jaded and cruel. How could he leave when she was barely learning all of these things about him?

How could he leave them?

“. . .No. You can’t leave.”

“. . . What did you say?”

Shion still wasn’t looking at either of them, making an expression Safu couldn’t see. Nezumi gazed at her and Safu felt naked under that intense gaze again. Nezumi’s beautiful eyes were just like the boy himself – beautiful, intelligent, and dangerous. Safu had a hard time composing herself.

“You can’t leave.”

Nezumi raised an eyebrow, amusement washing over his features, “Are you playing the role of my mother, Safu? I don’t need your permission to leave this place. I was just telling you.”

Safu felt herself frown, “If you leave, then you can never show yourself in front of Shion again.”

“Safu!”

This made Nezumi frown, a dark expression crossing his face. That was an expression Safu didn’t think he could make. He wasn’t just angry, he looked hurt and upset. He looked on edge, as if the threat had hit a nerve. Good, she was glad that he was angry too. She was livid.

“Who are you to make that decision?”

Safu lowered her friend, clutching the arm of her wheelchair, “I’m the person that loves Shion the most in this world and he is the person I love the most. It doesn’t matter anymore if that love is romantic or platonic but it’s true. We love each other. Because of this, I know that you leaving will leave Shion torn. It doesn’t matter if he has his mom, Inukashi, Rikigia or me in his life. You. . . you are his precious Nezumi, the one who did what no one else could and breathed new life into him. Leaving him when you don’t have to. . . how selfish is that?! You are so selfish!”

Safu was so angry at Nezumi. How dare he throw Shion aside, leave his side on purpose, when that had been the position Safu had been dying to occupy? She wished she had been in Nezumi’s spot even when she thought she’d die. Her desire had been to remain at Shion’s side, to stay with him, to live with him. Nezumi had everything she had wished for when she had been dying and he was throwing it away.

It wasn’t fair.

Nezumi scowled at her, “I’m selfish for wanting to leave this place for my own sake?”

“Yes.”

“Then are you not also just as selfish, Safu? You don’t care about my feelings on this matter, you only seem to care about your own and, by extension, Shion’s.”

“I am selfish,” Safu replied, “I won’t deny that, I won’t be a hypocrite. I, unlike you, try to avoid hurting others with my selfishness.”

“I’m not trying to hurt others but I’m not going to sacrifice my wants for others. I’m not that self-serving. I refuse to be that selfless.”

Safu was angry and Nezumi was angry too. Just when she thought that she understood Nezumi, he did something like this. Why? Didn’t he care about Shion? About Karan, Inukashi or her? Was he not thinking about how lucky he was that he had all of this?

They could have died two weeks ago. For a moment, she and Nezumi had truly died and left this world. They could’ve left behind this world that, while cruel and broken, was filled with beauty and the people they loved. They were lucky to be alive, lucky to continue living and enjoying the small gifts of being alive. How was Nezumi willing to throw it all away for a selfish whim? Why couldn’t he just appreciate what he had right now?

“You’re so-!”

“Stop it, please.”

Safu and Nezumi turned to look at Shion who had a single tear roll down his cheek. He was clutching his coat tightly and his lower lip was wobbling. He sniffed, blinking away his tears. She could see Nezumi turning to look away, as if guilty.

“This day wasn’t supposed to end in a fight,” Shion muttered, wiping his tears, “I just wanted to enjoy this day with two people I love so much. You’re both so important to my life and I almost lost you both. I thought this day was a dream come true. . . please. . . please don’t fight.”

Safu pointed at Nezumi, “He’s the one that wants to leave. It’s not my fault that he doesn’t understand that no one wants him to leave, not even me.”

“She’s the one who won’t consider my point of view.”

Shion shook his head, “Unbelievable. Two of the smartest people I know . . . and you’re both idiots.”

“Hey!” Safu and Nezumi shouted.

Shion smiled weakly, “Safu, I don’t want Nezumi to leave either but that’s his decision. No. 6 has hurt him badly. . . it has hurt us too. Our scars that remain from that pain remind us that it happened, and we can’t erase that. No. 6 imprisoned Nezumi and took away his freedom, even when Nezumi was no longer in their hands. No. 6 is gone and Nezumi is truly free. Safu, I-I don’t want to be another jailer for him.”

“But you love him,” Safu whispered, putting her head down, “Why would you let him leave if it’ll hurt you?”

“Because it’s what he needs.” Shion smiled, crouching down to hold her hands, “Safu, it would not be an eternal farewell. Nezumi would come back, I know that. I don’t want him to leave but I can’t chain him down to stay by my side. You understand that, right?”

She did. She understood it because, when she thought she was going to die in that dreadful correctional facility, Elyurias had asked her if she had wished for Shion to die with her. The answer had been that Safu loved Shion enough to not be that selfish. She wanted her beloved Shion to live, to live on and change the world, even if it meant she wouldn’t be by his side. She squeezed Shion’s hands tightly, conveying her understanding.

“Oh, Safu,” Shion said with adoration and love, “I’m happy that you’re my friend, my irreplaceable and precious Safu. . .”

“Shion, I just don’t want you to be sad.”

“I don’t want that for him, either,” Nezumi admitted, “I just don’t truly have a place for me here, not in this place that holds too many memories. Good or bad, these memories are something I need to spend time figuring out. I need to. . . I need to understand certain mysteries.”

Safu felt horrible for yelling at Nezumi, but she didn’t regret it. Nezumi looked upset but not devastated. Clearly, he wasn’t just being mindlessly selfish about leaving. He had clearly thought about this decision a lot. She couldn’t begrudge him that. She had just been shortminded in thinking that he was mindlessly leaving out of selfishness and that he hadn’t loved them all enough to stay. She hated this feeling more than the jealousy that sometimes turned its ugly head.

“Nezumi, how about a deal?”

Nezumi looked at her, raising an eyebrow, “A deal?”

“My deal is this: you can leave No. 6 only after I’m fully healed, and I can walk again.”

“That could take months, years or maybe it’ll never happen.”

Safu nodded, “You’re right, but I think I will recover eventually. It’ll leave you enough time to think about leaving right away. You don’t know if you’ll regret leaving months after you’re gone.”

“You think I’ll change my mind, Safu?”

“I hope you do, Nezumi. I really don’t want you to leave and I’m sure Shion, his mother, Inukashi and even Rikigia won’t want you to leave either. But, like Shion said. . . you’re free. We’re not your new jailers and forcing you to stay. Once I’m recovered and you still want to leave. . . we won’t stop you. Just don’t leave right now. We still need you here.”

Nezumi’s eyes were soft as he looked at her. What did his eyes see? Her fear, her jealousy, her anger, her pain, her guilt, her lack of guilt? Her genuine wish for him to not leave? She wasn’t sure what Nezumi saw as he stared back at her. She wasn’t even sure what she saw when she looked at him with the same calculating eyes. He reached out his hand and Safu took it. She could see Shion looking up at Nezumi, also anticipating Nezumi’s answer.

“. . . Alright.”

Safu and Shion smiled, looking at each other and reflecting their relief at each other. Shion hugged Nezumi, burrowing his face against Nezumi’s chest. Nezumi looked caught off-guard, but he melted into Shion’s hug, releasing a sigh that sounded so tired. Shion turned to look back at her and hugged her too.

“Thank you, Safu!”

Safu patted Shion’s back, “I just bought us more time.”

“That’s all I need! All I need is more time with people I love- you, Nezumi, my mom, Inukashi and Rikigia. I’m just so happy to get it.”

Shion was so easy to make happy, Safu thought with a start. She was surprised how easily he had gotten happy with a deal that could still lead to his first love to leave him and, possibly, never return. Some things truly never changed, she supposed. Shion had been easy to make happy too, before that day that Shion was stripped of his elite status, and she was glad that it was a trait that had never been robbed from Shion despite how much the world had changed him.

Shion slowly left her embrace and walked away from Nezumi and Safu. The two of them exchanged puzzled looks as Shion stopped in front of the bed, staring at it for a good minute in silence, until he laid down.

“Come on, let’s take a nap right now.”

Safu wondered if her confused expression was mirrored by Nezumi’s. Shion patted the bed, staring at them both, and repeated himself. Despite repeating himself, Safu was still unsure what Shion wanted so she continued to stare.

Nezumi shook his head, “We won’t fit. Your Highness needs plenty of space to sleep.”

Shion glanced at him, “We will fit if we squeeze together.”

Nezumi groaned and made his way to the bed. Safu smiled and was about to head to the couch to continue reading Hamlet when Shion turned to look at her. He smiled, eyes still red-rimmed with tears, and patted the bed. She felt herself realize that the “we” Shion was referring to wasn’t just limited to Nezumi. The invitation was for her too.

Safu got out of her wheelchair, leaving the book on the chair to read later, and squeezed into the bed alongside Nezumi and Shion. Shion grabbed Safu’s hand and Nezumi’s, closing his eyes. Nezumi sighed, leaning closer to Shion’s side.

Safu stared at them and thought the three of them made quite the sight. Three heavily scarred people that No. 6 tormented who, despite the actions of vile and careless individuals, survived. They had gotten the last laugh, able to live on in a world that they would change for the better. This is how it should be.

They had their roles to play that could, eventually, lead them down separate paths. Nezumi’s nature was to be a wanderer, free as the wind and trying to see it all in search of himself. Shion’s nature was to be someone who remained, ensuring that the wanderer had a place to return to. Her nature was to be an observer, watching everything and keeping memory of the world around her.

It was possible that Nezumi would leave even after the deadline of her walking expired. However. . . However, that didn’t matter right now. What mattered right now was the warmth that Nezumi and Shion had, how tightly Shion held her hand and showed her that he loved her deeply. Nezumi’s head was leaning against Shion’s, eyes staring at Shion with a saddened look in his eyes.

“Go to sleep, Nezumi,” Shion whispered, opening one eye, “Don’t stare at me like that. Besides, I’m taking you both to the theater tonight.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to see any bad performances tonight.” Nezumi groaned.

Shion snickered, turning to look at Safu, “Nezumi used to be an actor called Eve.”

“Don’t tell her that.”

“He looks so beautiful onstage, and he has the most beautiful singing voice. When you see him perform as Eve, it’s like a whole different person. I hope you see that one day.”

“Before you leave, then,” Safu said, clutching Shion’s hand, “Nezumi, you have to perform for us. One last performance.”

“I have to be paid to perform.”

Shion moved and she heard Nezumi give out a soft groan. Based on their position, Safu knew that Shion had elbowed Nezumi slightly. The guarded young man, tough and strong as he was, shared her weakness – a soft spot for Shion. No doubt that, if it had been someone else, Nezumi would have retaliated. But he didn’t with Shion. . . not with Shion.

“Fine, it’ll be a free performance. However, I won’t do it in front of others. Just you two.”

“And Shion’s mom.”

“. . . Fine, in front of her too.”

“What about Inukashi?”

“They’d have to pay but I can give them a discount for the baby.”

“What about Rikigia?”

“He pays full price.”

The three of them laughed. Shion asked Nezumi which of his plays he’d perform. Nezumi replied he was open to any suggestion. Safu asked them if she could browse the books later and get to choose the play which Shion agreed with. Eventually, Nezumi caved in and said that Safu would get to have the choice of which play he’d perform.

The three of them stayed like that, muttering ideas and plans for the future. Shion tried to get up to write some of them down, but Safu and Nezumi pulled him back into the bed. It was too comfortable right now for any of them to move. Shion, a pushover for their demands today, obliged and said that Nezumi would have to remember all of their plans. Nezumi reluctantly agreed, teasing Shion that “his majesty’s wish is my command.”

Safu found that she didn’t ever want to leave this room. She wanted to stay in this room with Nezumi and Shion and forget about the world outside. She wanted to stay here a bit longer and forget about what the future would hold. For a moment, she wanted to stretch this moment into a lifetime. She wanted to remain this happy, at least for a little bit longer.

Safu turned to look at Nezumi, feeling herself growing drowsy, “Can you sing for us?”

“What, like a lullaby?”

“Mmhmm.”

Nezumi smiled and Safu thought he looked younger when he did that with no malice, “Alright, then.”

Safu closed her eyes and a beautiful yet sorrowful song echoed in this cozy and warm room. Safu let herself drift between waking and sleep, feeling herself as light as the song. The hand holding hers was still warm and the voice was so soothing. She felt like she was floating just like when she no longer had a body. However, unlike before, she knew that she had two people right next to her, floating with her.

“You have a beautiful voice, Nezumi. . .”

Whatever happens later didn’t matter anymore.

All that mattered was the present as the wanderer, the one who remains, and the observer drifted into a restful sleep in a room where they could be safe and sound.

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #safu #nezumi #shion #aowyn #whims-of-insane-fandoms

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

Text

A Soulmates Christmas

From: @fairysdarkestnight

To: @thane-emblem

“What?!”

The coffee shop around them buzzed with pre-Christmas energy. There was no reason to think that anyone was listening in - not even the barista was paying attention to anything besides the book his nose was in - but there was a part of Shion that just felt like everyone was now focused on this decidedly not safe for public conversation.

Safu took a sip of her herbal tea as she simply looked at Shion, even though the other couldn’t seem to meet her eyes. His own coffee sat untouched in front of him, though he kept his gloved hands wrapped around the mug. “I know your hearing is functional so I doubt that I need to repeat myself. And although your background is in ecology, I doubt you lack the most basic understanding of anatomy. So therefore I must conclude that you did in fact hear me, and are asking me to elaborate rather than repeat myself.”

Somehow he still couldn’t quite meet her eyes even as he could hear the lightest undercurrent of humor in her words. But the roaring in his ears blocked out her actual words and she slowly trailed off into an uncomfortable silence.

They finished their drinks without saying much, occasionally making light conversation about Safu’s upcoming study abroad program. Their time didn’t feel like it usually did, and Shion didn’t want things to feel this awkward right before she left, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to say the words she so desperately wanted to hear.

And so when they said goodbye, he gave her a tight hug and promised he would see her off at the station in a couple days. I love you Safu. Just not in the way you need me to.

Eventually they parted ways and Shion went home to help at the bakery. His mom mentioned that they’d received a large rush order for the theater by someone named Nezumi and that they’d need to get started on it before it was picked up the following morning.

And so the two of them stayed up well into the night, until they were both so exhausted that they fell asleep after putting in one of the final batches of cookies and didn’t notice when they started to burn.

Shion didn’t know what he'd done wrong to deserve the actual hell that he was experiencing. When he was woken up by Safu’s text asking to meet up at their usual cafe, he’d been nervous, but happy that maybe they’d be able to move past the awkwardness from the day before. And yet, for some reason completely beyond his understanding, Safu refused to let up on her request.

Instead of responding or letting the conversation die, Shion merely sighed and pushed back his chair. It seemed like Safu was going to continue to push, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it without hurting her. So if they were going to have that conversation, he was at least going to do it with something a little stronger than a cappuccino.

It also didn’t help that he couldn’t remember actually making it back to his bed last night, or that he’d developed a cough. Hopefully his mom had been able to finish up the catering order and that it was picked up with no issues that morning.

“Please tell me you sell Irish Coffee. Or espresso martinis. I’d even take a spiked hot chocolate at this point.”

The barista raised an eyebrow and let out a low chuckle that sent a shiver down his spine. “What, is that friend of yours still after you? I thought your brilliant response yesterday of ‘Oh no, not my sperm. Anything but that!’ would’ve been enough to send any woman running. And yet here you are again.”

Shion groaned and ran a tired hand through his brown hair at the other man’s teasing. “I was hoping that we’d be able to just… ignore it? I don’t know I’m not good at this kind of thing. Once she knows what she wants, there’s no one who can stand against her. She won’t let them.”

The other man simply shook his head, a derisive smirk on his lips. “She sounds like a real winner. A match made in heaven Your Majesty. With your airheadedness and her stubbornness, you’ll take the world by storm.” The barista, whose name tag only had a picture of a rat on it, shook his head and moved to start preparing a drink. “It’s not on the menu, and it’s not like we have alcohol just lying around. But I sometimes need a little extra ‘holiday cheer.’” And with that he pulled out a flask from his apron and poured some dark liquid (whiskey, maybe?) into the mug. And kept pouring.

Shion apparently looked as frazzled as he felt.

A smirk tugged at the barista’s lips as he handed the steaming mug of salvation to Shion. “Now go and confess how uninterested you are in having sex with her.”

15 minutes later and Shion was swearing that there was no way that the whiskey should’ve been strong enough to make him hallucinate. But there really wasn’t any other explanation for the fact that Safu was repeating the same conversation as the day before. Not a continuation like he’d thought when they met at the coffee shop. No, a full repetition of a topic he really didn’t want to discuss.

“I know we didn’t really talk about this yesterday, but I’m sorry. I haven’t seen you as more than a friend and I’m not ready to have sex with you.”

Safu’s eyes widened and hurt flashed across her face. But confusion settled and she took a sip of her tea - herbal, same as always - before trying to meet his eyes. “Shion. We… we didn’t talk about this yesterday. We didn’t even see each other yesterday. We were going to meet for dinner but you worked late since Yamase called in.”

The hot chocolate burned as it slid down his throat but he couldn’t tell if it was from the temperature or the whiskey. “Safu, that was Friday. We met here for coffee yesterday and we were having this exact conversation.”

A calculating look entered her eyes as she leaned forward, almost as if she was examining him. Actually scratch that, that is exactly what she was doing. “Shion, what day do you think it is?”

“What day do I think it is? I know it’s Sunday.”

Safu shook her head slowly. “No Shion, it’s Saturday. Check your phone if you don’t believe me. Have you been having other symptoms like this? Memory falsification is rare but not impossible. But it's still odd that you would have known what I wanted to talk about.”

He lifted the hot chocolate (should he even really call it that? It was more alcohol than chocolate) to his lips as he took out his phone, only slightly surprised that it read Saturday December 24th. “I don’t know Safu. But I know - or at least I think I know - that we were here together yesterday talking about this exact same thing. And then I went home and helped my mom with the bakery. Some of her regulars came in, and a catering order was called in for the theater. Apparently the guy who put in the order had a weird name - Nezumi. I can’t make something like that up. And so we stayed up late to prepare the order - he must have been really desperate for my mom to agree on such short notice.”

There was a choked coughing sound from the coffee bar but Shion didn’t turn to look as he was too focused on trying to figure out what was going on. Maybe he just had a really vivid dream? An extreme case of deja vu?

Shion looked down at his gloved hands and sighed. Maybe it was nothing, but there was a part of him that felt like it was something more. Something that almost felt like a pull. But to where he couldn’t figure out.

The two friends sat there for a while, and Safu kept talking, mostly about her studies and how she was hoping that she’d find something that could help Shion, but he was mostly tuning her out at that point, choosing to stare out the window and the flurries of snow.

As they said their goodbyes and Shion watched Safu get into the taxi meant to take her home, he heard a crack from above. And then felt a searing pain that wrapped itself around his body before losing consciousness.

When Shion woke up the next morning, he was expecting to be in a hospital room. Or at the very least in severe pain. But no, he was back at home, feeling completely fine. Well-rested even. But when he picked up his phone, he barely had time to see that he’d gotten a text from Safu to meet at the cafe. When he grabbed it, his phone sparked and its screen went black, with a small wisp of smoke winding its way through the air.

But it wasn’t until he passed a mirror that he realized the true extent of what happened. Instead of the perfectly average brown hair and eyes he was born with, he now sported snow white hair and eyes red as blood. Not to mention the pink scar across his cheek that wound its way under his clothes. He was too afraid to see exactly how far that scar went though.

He took a few minutes to hunt for a beanie he knew he had somewhere, and he raided his mother’s makeup. It took a while for him to figure out exactly the best method to hide what looked like a scar, but it was passable enough by the time he left. But as he didn’t exactly have any colored contacts just lying around, he’d had to keep his head down as he called out to his mom that he was leaving.

He didn’t want to stand Safu up, even if he didn’t exactly feel like going to the cafe again. But that barista had also remembered the first day. So if he was lucky, maybe that man would have some answers.

If Nezumi had to go through this god-forsaken Saturday again was going to hurt someone. Probably that airheaded customer if he had anything to say about it. Sundays were his day off and that brat was (probably) the only one standing between him and a day of sleeping in.

The only bright side to having to repeat the day again was that write-up he’d gotten for not coming into work on what he thought was a Sunday just magically disappeared. Almost like it never happened. But he’d (almost) take a write up over having to work at that stupid shop for the 8th time in a row. Especially when he wasn’t even technically getting paid for it.

But when he checked his phone and saw that it was in fact Saturday December 24th for the third time, Nezumi begrudgingly pulled on a pair of black jeans and a matching long sleeve shirt. It was one of the only shops he could still work at - he’d been fired for fighting with customers at all the others, and he was still getting his foot in the door at the theater here. So he really needed this job and couldn’t afford another write up.

Not that he thought he deserved to be fired over customers’ crossing the boundaries of what’s considered “acceptable” behavior, but he was a replaceable minimum wage employee and a brush of the hand to see if he was their soulmate really shouldn't evoke such a strong reaction from him. And it really didn’t - it was the pushy ones who would grab at him because there was clearly a mistake and there’s no way this random albeit attractive barista isn’t their soulmate.

Maybe he shouldn’t be working a customer facing job. But his face makes up for his patchwork experience so he’d deal with it until he could pay rent from the theater’s paycheck.

By the time he made it to No.6 (seriously, what kind of name was that? Where were the other five locations?) Nezumi was hungry and irritated and kind of hungover despite the fact that he hadn’t had anything to drink since the launch party on Friday. Which was really unfair and just something else to blame that particular customer for.

Part of him was hoping that he was wrong, that the man who’d come in with a friend who propositioned him in public wasn’t his soulmate. But that man clearly remembered the previous day, even if he didn’t bear the marks Nezumi had come to associate with those Fate was especially cruel to. And there had been that incident the prior night…

He’d only met a handful of people whose time had noticeably stopped when meeting their soulmate, and only a handful of those bore the white hair and scars. And that man hadn’t had either of those when he saw him. So maybe it was a coincidence.

But regardless of whether that man was his soulmate or not, he still had to go into work.

Someone was gonna die. Maybe even him. He really didn’t want to go into work.

“What do you know about soulmates?”

Shion was surprised that the words coming out of the barista’s mouth - whose name he still didn’t know, because a rat drawing didn’t actually constitute a name - weren’t something like ‘What can I get you’ or ‘If you talk to me while I’m reading I’ll stab you.’ And given how angry he looked when asking the question… well Shion felt like he might get stabbed.

“Not much. Only that there’s no scientific basis for it, as we only have anecdotal evidence that supports the theory that time seems to stop when you touch them the first time. And since there’s no way of knowing when you touch someone the first time that they’ll be your soulmate, it’s nearly impossible to set up a controlled experiment.”

The barista nodded, but the frown deepened and his brow furrowed. “I have people come in every day demanding to touch me to see if their time stops for a moment. And I have regulars who swear they felt it when they touched their partner’s skin the first time. And then people like you who don’t believe in soulmates at all.”

Shion cocked his head, a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t actually not believe in soulmates. And even if I did, after the last couple of days I’ve been having, I think I’d be more inclined to believe in them. I think I’ll believe in a lot more after today.”

“Oh?”

“I… think I’ve been repeating this day. And to be honest, I think you have too. And if I’m wrong, I hope I get to repeat it again so you don’t remember this conversation.”

The barista’s lips drew up and he turned to start on a hot chocolate. Unspiked this time. “No, you’re right. I’ve seen that friend proposition you twice now. I was wondering if there would be a third time and part of me was hoping there would be. It’s the highlight of my day.”

Shion chuckled and handed over his card to pay for the drink. “I’m so glad that my misery brings you joy. I would hate for you to be bored while working. But I don’t think Safu will be here today. I fried my phone when I picked it up this morning, so I never confirmed that we could meet. I came here just in case, but mostly I wanted to talk to you.” He took a sip of his drink and sighed. There’s just something about hot chocolate during Christmastime that just soothes the soul. “So. soulmates. Are they connected to this?”

The barista hesitated for a moment but then nodded his head once. “I think it could be. But first answer one of my questions - what are you hiding under that beanie?”

Shion’s face flushed as he fidgeted with the edge of the hat. “Nothing? I was cold?”

He clearly didn’t buy it.

“Alright fine. So there may have been an…accident last night? I don’t remember for sure but I think I got electrocuted. And when I woke up I…didn’t look the same.”

The barista nodded. “There’s a group of people living on the outskirts of town. They’re an odd group, but one of the men there had gone through something similar. He’d died shortly after meeting his soulmate but hadn’t yet touched her. And he kept repeating the day until he did. Death has a funny way of messing with the soulmate bond. And if I’m right, I’d bet those changes have to do with those red eyes, and your hair is most assuredly white under that beanie of yours. And you have to have some kind of scar somewhere I’m sure”

If Shion had any surprise left in him, the fact that this man could so accurately guess the changes that he’d freaked out about that morning would’ve taken the last of it. He was talking as if it was the most normal thing. And so Shion didn’t say anything, but nodded his head all the same.

The barista came around the counter to stand in front of Shion, who put his hot chocolate on the counter. “If I’m right, then our time will correct itself and we’ll wake up on Christmas Day like nothing ever happened. But I could be wrong, and then you’d have to see who else you met today has memories of you.” He held out his hand with the palm facing up. This man whose name he didn’t even know was putting the choice in his hands. Both figuratively and literally. And that terrified him. But it was also a little exciting.

Shion started pulling off his gloves. After all, that was part of the reason they were in that mess. If Shion hadn’t worn gloves, then even the slightest brush of their hands would’ve snapped the soulmate bond into space. But no. He just had to be cold enough to take off his gloves.

As their hands met, Shion’s eyes slid closed without his approval. And together they experienced what felt like everything all at once. Happiness, sadness, anxiety, calmness. A fraction of a moment later and the feelings passed.

The barista’s lips pulled into a smile. He dropped Shion’s hand to reach out, pulling Shion into a heated kiss. Once they broke apart when the sound of clapping echoed through the small cafe. They’d apparently forgotten that they had an audience. “I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

“Shion.”

“Nezumi.”

“Oh my god you’re the reason I stayed up far too late that first time!”

“I was sure that my soulmate wouldn’t exist, that they’d be on the total opposite ends of the world and we’d never have the chance to meet them. Which, by the way, you and I will need to talk about the details - the world might have set us up, but I want to make sure we keep a level head. I’d like to try to make this work.”

Nezumi dropped Shion’s hands and shoved them into his pockets. “Yeah, talking would be good. But first we need to figure out how to stop you from dying. As powerful as this phenomenon is, I don’t really feel the need to watch your head be completely separated from its body again.”

“AGAIN?!”

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #fairysdarkestnight #thane-emblem

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no6secretsanta · 4 months

Text

marked

From: @thane-emblem

To: kerminty

The fabric of the suit is itchy against Nezumi’s skin, a constant reminder that these clothes never leave the emergency suitcase. His fingers twitch towards his tie. It's not too tight - he knows it's not too tight, but all the same, it feels like a quiet threat around his neck.

Quieter, at least, than the threat he's walking directly towards.

Manicured gardens sprawl beneath the full moon. The manor is ringed by red rose bushes, because of course it is, and the path leading to the front steps gives off the impression that someone’s counted out the perfect number of individual pieces of gravel to line it with. As for the building, the old bricks and Victorian architecture speak for themselves. Nezumi’s lips twitch downwards.

Vampires.

Two of them flank the door, asking guests for their tickets like bodyguards. Nezumi’s in half a mind to sneak in through a window, but that would be a waste of the perfectly good ticket he'd taken the time to fake, so he strides up the stairs and hands it over with only mild disdain showing on his face. The vampires scrutinize the ticket, then wave him through.

It's too bright inside. At least three chandeliers glitter overhead - they're like suns, which Nezumi supposes must be a deliberate choice. The ornate sconces on the wall only serve to amplify the dizzying effect.

To add insult to injury, there are altogether too many eyes on him, and he can't quite suppress the feeling that he's freely presenting these creatures with their main course just by walking in. He mentally counts through every concealed weapon on his body to shake the thoughts. Then he straightens his jacket. He's a professional - there's no need to let his quarry get in his head.

One specific pair of eyes burns into him and it's like the sudden pull of a magnet, deeply familiar and as powerful as ever.

Nezumi swallows hard.

Shion is here.

Their eyes meet across the dance floor, and Nezumi winks. Shion fidgets, the way he always does when Nezumi flirts with him, and the sight makes Nezumi cast aside his misgivings for a brief moment. He crosses the dancefloor, heading straight for Shion, who mirrors the motion. They meet in the middle.

If Shion were any less of an airhead, Nezumi would have to worry about how decidedly un-subtle he's being. Thankfully, Shion is still the same person Nezumi’s gotten to know so well throughout their various encounters, and so they move past awkward pleasantries and straight to the banter.

"You're looking well," Shion says.

"Checking me out, are we?" Nezumi returns. If Shion had a beating heart, Nezumi’s sure it would send blood to his cheeks right now. As it stands, he settles for averting his eyes and lifting his shoulders just so.

"I was just surprised to see you in a suit," says Shion. A note of teasing enters his voice as he adds: "This might be the first time I've seen you in a shirt without any stains or rips, actually."

"I have plenty of good shirts," Nezumi lies, running through his few possessions in his mind and reluctantly finding that Shion's entirely right. Shion laughs softly. Nezumi can feel himself getting distracted.

A trumpet solo from the live band's stage comes to his rescue just then. The crowd hushes as one, letting the trumpet player finish her piece and then staying quiet as the host, Lady Lynette, steps onto the platform to welcome everyone. Nezumi barely listens; whether it's Lynette or Kara or whoever else, they're all the same to him. Each of them is either a current or future mark. In fact, over three-quarters of the people in this very room qualify as such. Every last vampire is his sworn enemy-

"Oh, please not the waltz," Shion whispers.

Every last vampire, but one.

"And now, my dear guests, please find yourself a partner," says Lady Lynette. "We'll be dancing a waltz!"

"It's your lucky day," Nezumi jokes to Shion, offering him a hand. Shion’s eyebrows go up comically quickly.

"But Nezumi," Shion says, "for you to be in a place like this... You've surely got recon to do, right?"

Yes. That's what Nezumi should say - yes, because this is an important mission, and he can't waste any more time than he already has. Yes, because vampires are the very things he’s sworn to destroy, and he really, really shouldn't be flirting with one, let alone dancing with him. Yes, because-

"It can wait," he says, trying his best to play it off as a joke. Judging by Shion's expression, it doesn’t quite work. Shion takes his hand. Nezumi leads the dance.

They make it through several bars before Shion steps on his foot, but Nezumi can't bring himself to pretend to be mad about it. It figures that Shion could make even this viper's den feel like a safe haven. Nezumi’s still trying not to laugh as Shion loses his balance again, bumping into another couple dancing their way. Shion apologizes; the vampire pair only acknowledge his existence to sneer down their noses at him.

"Friends of yours?" Nezumi murmurs.

"Not at all," Shion replies, his voice equally low. Nezumi snorts.

"Right, I almost forgot. I've met your one friend."

Shion makes a face. "Safu isn't my only friend."

"Then how'd you know I meant her?"

While Shion struggles to come up with a response, the back of Nezumi’s mind whispers that that couple had looked familiar. He watches them move away from the corner of his eyes when, all of a sudden, it clicks: those were supposed to be his targets tonight.

"Nezumi?" Shion says. It figures that he’d only be perceptive only at the most inconvenient of times.

"It's nothing," Nezumi tells him. "Focus on those two left feet of yours."

And Shion, damn it all, smiles a self-conscious smile that makes Nezumi feel like a child seeing the ocean for the first time. He presses his lips into a thin line, trying not to think about the cold pressure of Shion's hand in his, the way his own chest rises and falls against Shion's still one, the distinctly human glimmer in Shion's eyes.

Ah, those eyes.

If it weren't for those, Nezumi could carry out his work in peace. He could make a real name for himself. Better yet, he could give the vampire population something to fear, show them that humans can strike back. But no, instead of that, he has to be here, wondering whether Shion's eyes have always been this luminous shade of red like a lovestruck schoolchild. He sighs inwardly.

All too soon, the waltz comes to an end. Shion looks directly at him as the band holds the final note of the song; around them, several couples share a kiss. Nezumi feels the back of his neck start to heat up.

"Nezumi-" Shion starts, his voice half a question, and Nezumi can't take it. He detaches himself from Shion, taking a step back and then sweeping out of the room without one more word. All of the haughty vampires are surely judging him as he leaves. He hopes they all trip on their own over-inflated egos.

The night feels several degrees colder now, in the absence of the crowds inside the manor. Nezumi keeps going at a brisk pace, never breaking his stride until the gates are far behind him.

What's gotten into him?

Shion is one of them. Shion drinks blood - preys on humans - just the same as any thousand-year-old leech. If push came to shove, Shion would drink Nezumi’s own blood just as quickly, those naïve eyes be damned. And Nezumi’s stake could- it could-

Nezumi yanks his blazer off and throws it to the ground, sitting down on it and crossing his arms over his chest.

The old willow tree stays steady behind him as he leans against it. Nezumi breathes in the crisp night air, clamping down on his emotions, getting himself back under control. He can't keep letting Shion do this to him. Shion's still a vampire, even if he's a handsome and unusually charming one. That's what they do. They charm their prey to expend less energy chasing their meals down. It's basic survival.

"Sometimes, I wish you'd just talk to me," Shion says from behind him. Nezumi’s spine goes rigid.

"Don't sneak up on me," he snaps.

"I just wanted to see if you're alright."

"I'm doing great. Now can you leave?"

There's a rustle of clothes as Shion sits down next to him.

"No."

Nezumi sighs, deflating as the frustration leaves him. Is there a real point in resisting Shion? It feels like they're fated to end up meeting over and over, in a hundred different contexts. They might as well enjoy it.

"You're as stubborn as ever," says Nezumi, with no real bite.

"Me?" Shion says. Nezumi looks at him.

"You. I'm a vampire hunter, you know." Nezumi leans in closer. "I kill creatures like you."

Shion doesn't flinch away. "I do know that."

"And you're not scared?"

"Why would I be scared of you? I know you won't hurt me."

And Nezumi knows that's true.

Shion takes a turn to lean in closer, adding: "You're not scared of me either, are you?"

"I should be," Nezumi answers honestly. Shion shakes his head, putting both hands on Nezumi’s shoulders. Almost of their own accord, Nezumi’s hands float to Shion's waist.

"I don't want you to be," Shion whispers, and then they're both moving closer, and then, despite everything, their lips meet. In this moment, they’re not a vampire and a hunter; they’re two people who keep being drawn towards one another. Nezumi shifts so his body’s against Shion’s.

It's like coming home.

#submission #no. 6 #no. 6 secret santa #nezushi #nezumi #shion #thane-emblem #kerminty

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