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no6secretsanta · 6 months ago

Text

From: @skiesinlove

For: @dreamingsap

Happy holidays!

Nezumi hates hospitals. This is no secret. The way they look with their walls so white it's like all the color's been sucked clean out of them; how they smell with an astringent so potent he can taste isopropyl in the back of his throat; the beeping of machines rhythmically broadcasting how close people are to death.

Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep days. Two days. Two days.

If he could never step foot in a hospital again, it would be too soon. Fuck this noise—he'd rather die in a ditch than be poked and prodded and restrained and given mysterious substances and the whole thing is really just a nightmare for Nezumi specifically.

But he's here. With gritted teeth and the fury of a thousand ordinary men, he's here—because Shion's here, and he sure as fuck isn't going to leave him alone, not like this. He's oscillating wildly between feeling like he's going to throw up and feeling like he's going to punch a hole in the wall and feeling like he's going to cry. Fear like claws tears him apart from the inside out and makes him want to scream or fight someone until he gets answers or both.

The first day was spent pacing in circles around the too-big room while nurses and doctors filtered in and out, putting all kinds of tubes and needles in Shion with very little explanation for Nezumi.

"It's to help with the tachycardia."

"We'll monitor his heart better with this."

"He can't protect his airway right now, so he has to be intubated."

"It's pain control, for when he wakes up."

When he wakes up.

Nezumi holds onto that line like it's a life preserver and he's drowning at sea. Not "if," but "when." There has to be a "when," because if there's no "when" then Nezumi is going to make that everyone else's problem before he implodes in on himself.

Shion has to wake up. He's going to wake up.

It all happened so fast that on the second day, when Nezumi has time to slow down instead of tearing his hair out and walking a circular groove into the linoleum, he finally tries to process it. It still doesn't seem real. It was like this:

Nezumi comes home from his daily scavenging of the West Block for anything of significance that can be salvaged to the little cottage he and Shion share between that area of the city and No. 6. Shion, it turns out, has been home all day, which is very unlike him. He's been known to go into work practically on death's door. He's semi-conscious, flushed, vomiting, and burning up so badly Nezumi can feel it without needing to touch his skin. When Nezumi tries to rouse him, he just groans and tries to roll away, shaking. Nezumi tries everything he can think of to break the fever—cold rags, herbs, drawing a hot bath that he basically has to carry Shion into and hold him upright within—and nothing helps.

It's when his breathing begins to shallow, his pulse racing so quickly Nezumi isn't convinced his veins won't burst, that he snaps and finally brings him to the hospital in their horse-drawn cart. He carries Shion inside because he's not even conscious enough to stand and Nezumi barks and yells and screams until someone takes his love from his arms and whisks him away in a wheelchair, leaving Nezumi in the hospital waiting room. It isn't until hours later that he's finally allowed to see Shion with the briefest, most "I have to do this because it's part of my job description" explanation of Shion's condition.

"We're not sure what's wrong. We're running some tests. He's unconscious but stable. You can see him now."

And that's about as much as Nezumi's gotten in the two days they've been here.

"We're not sure yet, but we're running some tests."

It's an answer he gets about a hundred times before he finally snaps.

“What's going on?” Nezumi finally demands of one of the nurses, grabbing them by the elbow as they leave. He releases them the second they turn to face him, stiffening into a pillar of quietly shaking rage, because he's sure any longer will get him thrown out.

Thankfully, the nurse looks more irritated than frightened. Even though that annoys Nezumi even more.

You should be more frightened, he thinks darkly. I'd burn this place to the ground if I thought it would help him.

“We’re not sure. Still running tests,” the nurse says curtly.

“You've run a thousand tests already. How do you not know what's killing him?” Nezumi practically spits, his throat tightening to keep from yelling.

“We're doing everything we can.”

And that's the last human interaction Nezumi has that day.

Nezumi hasn't slept in all that time, not since he came home to find Shion barely responsive in their bed. Exhausted and at his wit's end with fear and frustration, Nezumi collapses into the chair beside Shion's bed.

He's barely recognizable, hooked up to all those monitors with a huge plastic tube down his throat doing his breathing for him. Nezumi watches the rhythmic, mechanical rise and fall of his chest in a sleep-deprived, hypnotic trance. Almost automatically, he takes one of Shion's hands and presses the back to his lips. It's warm and soft and smells like that horrible jasmine-scented soap that Nezumi hates, but right now it smells like Shion so it becomes another raft keeping him buoyant enough to breathe. He brushes his lips against Shion's skin over and over and over and over again, until his lips are chapped and the back of Shion's hand is pink and the only thing his body seems to know how to do or feel is the motion of the kiss.

Hypotheticals have never been Nezumi's forte. There's always too much to worry about in the present to think too far into the future. It's the only saving grace now, his ability to pull his mind from the worst case—the only thing worse than the incessant beeping of the machines, which would be them ceasing to do so—and simply focus on the smell, the feel, of Shion against his lips.

At some during this reverie, he nods off. It is in this space that Nezumi is plagued by the what-ifs. What if Shion doesn't wake up? What if he's hooked up to all these monitors and machines forever? They'd ask Nezumi to be the one to pull the plug, and he would just to spare Shion any further torture in this place, but at least a part of him would be pulled out and die alongside him. Or even worse, what if Shion does come to and is completely, irrevocably different? That happens sometimes, Nezumi’s heard. What if he loses Shion, to death or to a changed mind?

It's not that Nezumi can't lose Shion, as in “it isn't possible to lose Shion,” it's that Nezumi can't lose Shion as in, “I will tear this city apart before I lose this man.”

It's been a while since Nezumi has been this afraid, and there aren't even any guns involved.

The what-ifs give way to sleep. His dream is amorphous and confusing: he's following Shion down a long, dark hallway, and he's always about twenty feet or so behind him. When he tries to call out, it's silent, and when he tries to run forward, he can't seem to catch up. The longer he follows, the more Shion starts to change. His hair slowly starts growing just a little too long, fading from white back to its natural brown, his shoulders slimming down more than normal, his fingers growing just a touch too clawed. There's a point when Shion stops in the middle of the hallway, and Nezumi stops too, and then Shion starts to turn around and Nezumi isn't sure if he should look at the face of the creature in front of him—

When he wakes up, the first thing he becomes aware of are the voices in the room. He keeps his eyes shut because it's probably just nurses and doctors coming to stick more things in Shion or take more things out of him like he's a kitchen junk drawer. But then there's some canned laughter and a musical sting and he realizes it must be one of those fancy televisions built directly into the wall opposite Shion’s bed. When his eyes fly open, he almost comes to with fist swinging because what kind of unprofessional, inconsiderate fuck would watch a sitcom in the room of a dying man and his lover?

But then eyes the color of a dying star flick to his face and thin, serpentine lips curl upward and Nezumi nearly vomits.

“Fuck.” Nezumi straightens as relief and affection and more anger (this time the knife points inward rather than outward) flood his system. He wipes some drool off the corner of his mouth, realizes he was still holding Shion's hand from where he'd slumped forward against the hospital bed and wipes some saliva from there too, and scoots closer. “Fuck. I'm sorry. I—god I didn't mean—how long was I out? When did you wake up?”

“Hello to you too,” Shion says with a quiet, croaky voice. Shit. That's right. He had a fucking plastic tube shoved down there for at least thirty hours.

“Don't talk, it sounds painful,” Nezumi corrects quickly. He reaches forward and brushes a thumb across Shion's cheek, feels his forehead. He's still warm, but not enough to kill braincells. “Just… fingers, how long have you been awake for?”

Shion's smile widens and he looks bemused, if not exhausted. He could move across the world packed in the bags under his eyes.

He holds up two fingers.

“Hours?” Nezumi clarifies.

Shion nods.

“Do they know what happened?”

Shion nods again.

Nezumi exhales. “Is it contagious?”

Shion shakes his head. He opens his mouth to speak, but Nezumi leans forward and captures those lips in a kiss before he can cause any more damage to his clearly raw throat. It's short, but Nezumi pours a thousand unsaid words of gratitude and love into the contact and hopes to god Shion can understand all the things he can't say. By the soft, contented look on his face when Nezumi sinks back into his chair, it appears he does.

“Oh good, you're both awake.”

Nezumi nearly falls out of his chair at the sound of someone suddenly at the end of Shion's bed. God, he's so sleep deprived and distracted he hadn't even heard them come in. He's got to be more on his edge than this. Especially now.

“I just came to check on Shion here, make sure he's still recovering.”

The… doctor? Nezumi assumes by his long white coat that Nezumi can't believe people still actually wear and isn't just something from old movies. Anyway, the doctor pulls out a piece of technology Nezumi thinks is called a tablet or something and starts tapping away at it.

“You certainly gave us quite the scare,” the doctor continues. “Toxic shock is serious business.” The doctor's gaze moves to Nezumi and Nezumi squirms internally. There's something piercing about those eyes he immediately detests. “Good on you for bringing him in when you did. A few more hours without medical intervention and I'm not sure he would have made it.”

Okay. Okay so maybe… maybe Nezumi did do the right thing.

Nezumi just nods. He should probably thank the doctor for doing whatever they did to make sure Shion was okay, but Nezumi isn't in the practice of thanking people for just doing their job and he's not about to start now.

Shion, ever the more polite one, manages to rasp out a “thank you,” for them both anyway.

“Of course. Now, rest up. We're not out of the woods yet.”

The doctor doesn't say anything else to clarify whatever that extremely upsetting phrase means, just taps a few more times before giving both Nezumi and Shion a nod and leaving.

“They seemed nice,” Shion says, then coughs, then coughs harder.

Nezumi reaches over to the bedside table and shoves a cup of water into his hands, which Shion gratefully accepts.

“You think everyone is nice.”

Shion takes a long, long drink, actually finishes off the cup of water and swallows a few more times in an attempt to lubricate his throat.

“No, I don't. I think most people aren't… well. They might be nice for politeness sake, but they aren't kind,” Shion says thoughtfully. “It takes too much effort to be kind.”

Nezumi snorts and shakes his head. Almost automatically, he reaches forward and grasps Shion's hand with both of his, brings it to his lips again. “I've made you too cynical.”

Shion hums at the kiss and settles back against his pillows. “I was cynical before you. I just didn't voice it.”

His head rolls to the side, and he looks absolutely exhausted but for some reason he's smiling. “I can't believe you actually brought me to a hospital. Are you starting to put trust in society again?”

Nezumi makes a disapproving noise through his teeth. “Fuck, no. But I wasn't about to watch you die on our bathroom floor.”

Shion's smile fades and his brows pinch together. “Was it that bad?”

Nezumi clenches his teeth, remembering Shion leaning over the side of their bathtub and vomiting blood into a tub they used for washcloths, and he nods. Shion's face falls.

“Oh. I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't—”

Nezumi lurches forward and captures Shion's lips in another kiss, not at all interested in hearing Shion apologize for something that wasn't his fault, as usual. Shion makes the most adorable little noise out of his nose before relaxing against Nezumi’s mouth. Feeling Shion's living, breathing warmth soothes something inside Nezumi.

Shion is here and he's alive and he's going to be okay. The sun could fall out of the sky and Nezumi’s world would still be fine.

“Don't apologize, idiot highness,” Nezumi mumbles, pulling back. “Just… don't scare me like that again. Ever.”

Shion chuckles, his cheeks pink again but not feverish. “Alright. I'll do my best. Kiss me again?”

And Nezumi does. And does. And does.

Loving someone might be a burden, but with Shion alive in front of him and kissing him, Nezumi feels it's more than worth it.

#skiesinlove #dreamingsap #nezumi #shion #no.6 #no. 6 #no6 #no 6 #nezushi

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no6secretsanta · 6 months ago

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To: @pigeonsimba

From: @Dreamingsap

I hope you like it, I went with a traditional limited palette pen piece because I wanted to try something new for this year.

#dreamingsap #pigeonsimba #nezumi #shion #nezushi #no6 #no 6 #no.6 #no. 6

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no6secretsanta · 6 months ago

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From: @worlds-cursed-pigeon

For: @xlavenderharmony

Happy holidays!

#worlds-cursed-pigeon #xlavenderharmony #nezumi #shion #nezushi #no.6 #no. 6 #no6 #no 6

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no6secretsanta · 6 months ago

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From: @artclari

For: @zuckarr

merry xmas!! hope you like it 💚❤️

Mod note: Tumblr censored this gift according to their community guidelines, so you can view the full image here: [LINK]

#artclari #zuckarr #nezushi #no.6 #no. 6 #no6 #no 6 #nsfw

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no6secretsanta · 6 months ago

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To @ascendedheavenly6 from @raaindropps !! I hope you enjoy it ^.^

[ID: A digital two page comic with no dialogue. It shows Shion on a snowy night looking down at the graves of Safu and Yamase while he holds a bouquet of flowers. Safu’s grave has a carving of Elyurias on it, and the quote “Every act of creation is first an act of destruction”. Yamase’s grave reads “In loving memory”. Shion closes his eyes, and in front of him appears their ghosts. They’re both smiling at him /End ID]

#ascendedheavenly6 #raaindropps #shion #safu #yamase #no6 #no 6 #no.6 #no. 6

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no6secretsanta · 6 months ago

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From: @alexitimiasstuff

For: @raaindropps

Happy holidays!

#alexitimiasstuff #raaindropps #safu #shion #no6 #no 6 #no.6 #no. 6

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no6secretsanta · 6 months ago

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From: avin1ty (instagram) For: @artclari

Shion and Nezumi having Christmas in Summer! This is the first time I’ve done a secret Santa event, hope you like it 😅

#avin1ty #artclari #nezumi #shion #nezushi #no.6 #no. 6 #no6 #no 6

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no6secretsanta · 6 months ago

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A Very Merry New Year

From: @fairysdarkestnight

For: @mariaashby64

Happy holidays!

“Nezumi, what are you doing? You know that’s not where we put the champagne. You’re acting like this is the first year we’re hosting this party.”

The berated man rolled his eyes and held back the sarcastic retort that danced on the edge of his tongue. Why the hell would they not keep the champagne with the literal champagne fountain.

Ding dong.

Nezumi swore under his breath and checked the grandfather clock, which hadn’t yet struck 7. She was always at least half an hour early, and while he appreciated that type of punctuality among his patrons, a small get together did not require people to be on time, much less half an hour early. Not that a small thing like etiquette or respect for others ever stopped Safu from doing what she wanted. On a normal day, Nezumi respected that part of her. But when he was helping host a party, well, sometimes he wished that Elyurias had restored her without that particular quirk.

As murmured greetings between the two old friends reached Nezumi’s ears, he took a deep breath and turned to welcome Safu. Before the woman had even taken off her gloves, Nezumi shoved the box of champagne bottles into her hands. “Here. Find a place for these.”

A sly smile crossed her lips. “Funny. I would think you would know where these go already. This is what, the third year already that you and Shion are hosting? And they always go in the corner near the succulents.”

A glare, a sigh, and then a smile. “Lovely as always to see you Safu. I do hope you’ll forgive me. But now that you’re here, you can tell me all the things I’ve forgotten about hosting. In fact, I don’t think Shion even needs me here if you know exactly how he likes everything. So you can just take care of this and I’ll take a quick walk around the block. Might be back in an hour or two. It’s a rather large block after all.”

“Nezumi, if you walk out that door right now, I’m not letting you back in until next year.”

“You’ve been making that joke for the last week. It’s not as much of a threat as you think it is. Besides, who else would you kiss at midnight, Your Majesty?”

* * *

The ticking of the clock seemed nonexistent as the party was in full swing. Rikiga was trying to convince Karan to let him become Shion’s stepfather, and Nezumi’s mice were chasing Inukashi’s dogs around the house. Even little Karan and Rico were taking turns reading from Hamlet, with Safu and Inukashi acting as their extras.

The planning and setup for Shion’s annual New Year’s Eve party was chaotic, and although Shion would work him to the bone, Nezumi found himself feeling content as the year drew to a close. Not that he would tell anyone that. He had an image to uphold, afterall.

But seeing Shion laughing as he took the champagne from Rikiga’s hand reminded Nezumi of why he came back after all this time. Being able to travel and see the world and find the pieces of his culture that No.6 tried to take from him healed that part of him that he’d thought lost all those years ago. And there was a part of him that thought he would never come back, that he’d leave Shion as the one happy memory of No.6 and nothing more.

But no matter how far he wandered or the people he met, he never felt that home could be a person as much as he did during those few months in the West Block with Shion. And that feeling is what brought him back. And it was that feeling that kept him here year after year.

It wasn’t like him to be so sentimental. But when he saw Shion laughing and enjoying the time he spent with everyone… well no one would blame him if they knew.

When there was only five minutes until midnight, Shion made his way to the front of the room, grabbing a glass of champagne on his way.

“The last few years have been difficult, but we’ve made it through whether that was by reconnecting with old friends or by making new ones. We’ve learned what it really means to be human and that the thoughts and emotions that we thought lost to us were what saved us in the end. I am incredibly grateful for each and every one of you, and everything that you’ve brought into my life. So tonight is about celebrating what has been and what will be. May this year be even better than the last, and may we bring just a little more joy into the world. Happy New Year!”

The clock struck midnight as Shion raised his glass in a toast. As everyone echoed the toast and drained their glasses, Nezumi made his way to Shion’s side. “Quite the speech Your Majesty. But there was one thing you missed.”

Shion’s brow furrowed. “But I spent hours thinking about that speech. I know I could’ve said a few more words, but I didn’t think I was missing anything significant. And the timing was impossible to get down.”

Nezumi smiled a little. “You’re still such an airhead. It’s New Year’s. What’s the most important thing for every person to usher in the new year with?”

WIthout waiting for a response, Nezumi leaned over and brushed his lips against Shion’s.

A kiss.

#fairysdarkestnight #mariaashby64 #nezumi #shion #nezushi #no6 #no.6 #no. 6 #no 6

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no6secretsanta · 6 months ago

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From: @ascendedheavenly6 To: @aowyn

To my gift recipient: Hello Aowyn! Happy Holidays! I'm the writer of your gift! I was really excited to write these prompts that you gave me, so I tried to merge them into one fic! If you don't mind, I have Safu here wandering around the living world here to see what is her limited perspective to re-visit and visit the current world Shion experiences, as well as a peak towards what my thoughts are for the 'in the meantime' situation. This is super fun to write, to dive deeper into Safu's idea of love and existence, I hope that you enjoy reading work as much as I did when writing this. Without further ado, please enjoy!

NOTE: This story was intended to be read with specific formatting. If you would like to read it as it was intended, you can view a PDF version of the story here: [LINK]

Honeysuckles – happiness, devotion, sweetness towards one another Roses – love

Birthday June Flowers, Floraly.com

—

‘Hello everyone! This is Safu from the Afterlife!’ is written across the phantom’s face: a plastered, unbreakable smile across her youthful face with her eyes closed in the concave down shape and doing a peace sign isn’t really ideal when the person doing these actions is actually dead some four years ago. Doing something like this, also reflected upon ghost Safu’s unchanging face, is really awkward, embarrassing even.

Though clearly, there aren’t many things to do when you die. In many instances, the soul is on the receiving end rather than the active end: something such as receiving baked goods, flower crowns, or even money placed upon Safu’s makeshift grave near the area where she was blown to bits; it’s better this way rather than if Safu literally haunts someone else from bored or mixed in with vengeance (she would gladly haunt that bastard Scientist for life if he weren’t dead). The afterlife is almost separate from the living world – somewhere a few people called ‘Heaven’ is a bit far-fetched; last time Safu checked, she didn’t have a halo or a pair of wings – since it only has a cloudy abundance and full view of the living world, where Safu can only imagine what would have been if she was alive: would she be rushing to work everyday like the brown-hair salaryman who always wears a red tie, would she be managing a flower shop like the large man on the apartment’s ground floor, or would she be walking around looking for sample subjects like the lady who always wears a variation of the blue blazer. Safu can only savor those ‘what-ifs’ within her spiritual consciousness and the voice within, Elyurias, keeps commenting on those little dreams, ‘Then why don’t you explore yourself’ How? By haunting and possessing their bodies? That’s too impractical, Safu would counter. Even then, those daydreams usually revolve around when she’s closer to Earth than ever – where her grave stands as a chair for Safu to wait for Shion to bring some gifts for her, just like today.

Unlike her, Shion is changing more than ever before. Just after her death, Shion’s hair became strikingly white, but his eyes remained. Years later, Shion changed – subtly, but there are steps. His eyes darker, his appearance and personality become shifty, and then suddenly, he conceals everything away with the former self’s look. Brown-hair wig, contact lens to make his dim purple appear shinier, and carrying another bouquet of whatever flowers and placing it on top of Safu’s grave made her think there was something mysterious, soul-sucking, and dangerous about where Shion worked. Come to think of it, Safu didn’t think about where and when Shion went to work, she only assumed he’s still a server at Karan’s bakery and nothing changed at all.

‘Though it feels like watching him from all the way here doesn’t help at all…’

So she followed him to work.

—

‘Revolving doors? I remembered these when I was going to a Biology class…’ Ghost Safu glances back at the entrance where Shion come from, not even looking back quick enough to see Shion take out his brown-hair wig and reveal that hidden striking white hair as he hastily done on the vest in front of his white blouse before another man clumsily approaches him (A co-worker?)

“Member Shion, there you are!” ‘Member Shion?’ “Where were you? The next meeting calls for your presence, please be there as soon as you can,”

“I see. I’ll be there shortly. Thank you for the notice, Masami,’ Safu felt a cold jolt running down her body if it was even possible for her ghostly self. ‘Wah, what is going on?’ is what she wants to say if she had a mouth. What’s even more unusual is that despite her ghostly self, Safu feels there is a part of her that participates well in a bustling setting. Safu lifts her eye, aweing the overstretching tiled ceiling. Casual researchers, business, finance, and engineers flock around capturing her student days with Shion, walking around with scientific interests in their minds and speeches and a real objective for the next labs stuck in between lectures and presentations, then comes awards and the echoes of those in power drilling in their craniums. What’s different is this place feels more breathable than the constricting environment Safu forced herself to enjoy – more people are genuinely smiling, talking, exchanging…even wearing bold clothes with flashy combination style: what do you mean you can wear blue and yellow without anyone mocking you two steps at the time? It’s insane. It’s something Safu found herself giggling by herself with immense joy that she can cover her head,

“Such a place you crafted, Shion. The energy, the professionalism, and yet a touch of your eccentricity thrive within No.6. Such a life without the walls…is a blessing, indeed…

…wait, where is he?”

—

So it turns out Shion already returned to his meeting room, wherever that is, and Safu waits outside the door since she doesn’t wish to interrupt the session. As a ghost, she can slide in fairly easily; except that Safu thought it didn’t really matter to her. The one exception(s?) that pulls her every time are the weird sounds coming from the room, like swinging swords, falling heavy parts, screaming occasionally, and other questionable things inside the room.

“What is going on in that room? Are they okay?! Do they need a medical record or medical supervision? I’m sweating even from hearing the noises from that room, and I don’t even sweat. How is it possible that–”

“Would you like to know?”

Another voice comes through the door…literally. Why is it so normal that Safu, a ghost, sees another ghost’s head and upper body horizontally separated by the door to the meeting room? Safu really can’t physically contort her face to mean something, but the stiff expression speaks volumes about the current situation. The other ghost resembles a young man, maybe over 20-25 at least, with tidy short hair, a green jumpsuit, and boots; so a cleaner? Despite his simple appearance, Safu couldn’t help but squint a little more just to be safe – this appearance, and the subtle personality, is somehow familiar to her…

“Are you, uh, Shion’s previous co-worker, Yamase?”

“Interesting, so you know my name and Shion’s? You must be one of his friends he mentioned to me,” Yamase’s eyes widen at Safu’s approach, “And so I know his mother’s name is Karan, so the other one should be…Safu?”

“That will be me. But also, what are you doing here?”

“The real question here is: why can you see me? You shouldn’t be…oh god…” Yamase’s terrified eyes stare down the floor, “Jesus Christ…were you also stung by a bee that gave you old age and–” Yamase stops himself with a strained cough. To that, Safu only sighs before immediately jolting to the bang on the door – Who is throwing in the meeting?! This is scarier than the two ghosts anticipate along with the already louder-than-expected noise in the room. The chaotic energy makes things easier for the tension, ironically so.

“It’s not really old age, but there is a bee involved, believe it or not,” Safu rolls her eyes.

“Ah. Poisonous?”

“Sort of, and a failed surgery attempt, and an explosion,”

“Yikes, that’s…very gruesome, but then again, you are also here with me now so…happy to see you. Oh, and they’re discussing some missing person’s case, apparently someone named Nezumi.” He let out an optimistic relief, “Anyways, I thought I would hope to see you in that room, considering how close Shion is to you, and how talented you are; did you know this is a handpicked team?”

If I had been cautious, that is. Safu shrugs off, “Say, what does he say about me? Before you died,”

“It’s going to be a lengthy one, but uh, he talks a lot about you, your skills, your bold sense of fashion, and you are involved in many experiments. Most of them went well, but he mainly discusses the failed ones. You once spilled a solution all over your lab coat as an excuse to show off your handmade lab coats, even though it’s technically impossible. Then, there was another time he told me when you pull out all-nighters to complete the graphs for your research papers only to find out that the assignment’s due date was moved to next week,” The more Yamase exposes her, the more urges Safu has to haunt Shion by giving him night terrors or day terrors right now. It’s nostalgic, terrifyingly nostalgic, feels like she’s going to be attached to her flesh and blood and getting chills with the more spilled details.

Of course, as memories start flowing in her mind, Safu tries to respond – maybe to tell Yamase to chill out or to bombard with more questions – her lips barely open, and then—

“Meeting Adjourned! Please walk safely!”

Both Yamase and Safu fly away from the door to make way for the meeting attendees (even though they didn’t have to). Five people come out: a tall and round long blond-haired woman with a scar on her face leads the way, then another shorter woman with dark curly-haired and a strangely flamboyant fashion exits, followed by a tall man with medium-height brown mullet is talking to Shion – there’s an upset but also urgently caution body language to his movement– while holding a wide bulletin board, then finally the last tall woman with short navy-colored bob-cut with an eyepatch comes out before the door closed.

“Interesting crowd,” Yamase tilts, “I thought you’ll fit right in,” it’s a compliment.

“…That doesn’t really explain why there were heavy metal noises though,”

—

Safu follows Shion's office (a strangely peaceful walk after what happened), and her eyes surround the space while Shion and his current white hair unpacks his items. At a glance, it’s as plain as a typical cubicle office Safu could remember as much as her past allowed her to. There’s Shion’s desk, a wide window to a full landscape view of the city, blue couches facing directly with a coffee table in the middle, some miscellaneous items surrounding such as a coat hanger, plant pots, two bookshelves containing books ranging leadership philosophy to classical dramas. However at closer inspection, each furniture piece is decorated to Shion’s personality: for example, each book has little papers sticking out, the working desk has a flower-filled vase, brown wigs (the same one he used when delivering flowers) styled on some bookcases, and the coffee table has a flower-patterned tablecloth. Below the working desk, Safu glances down at the bulletin board covered with red strings connecting wrinkled pictures and notes; the colorful pins are too intact, making Safu a bit nervous if Shion had to get rid of it, though the board being on the floor could also mean it’s not being used anymore. A single note on it sticks out weirdly to Safu, she reads:

Nezumi’s Whereabouts → Potential - Alive?? → High Possibility → Possible Locations cannot be too far from No.6 → But can he drive? - Dead? Potential Risks: Poisoned, Infections, Exhaustions, Dehydration - Possibility: Existing fake license, Eve fans

‘It’s a board to find this Nezumi, interesting,’ Safu gazes at the board for longer, with the photo of this ‘Nezumi’ plastered near the notes. For some reason, he looked familiar, but not enough to ring a bell. But the fascination remains. Red strings connecting diseases and settings ranging from multiple possibilities and locations: different bacterial infections connecting to various places in No.6 – even in the desert locations which Safu didn’t think of. It reminds the ghost of those case studies they had to do during school, perhaps too advanced for 14-year-olds, but it did prepare Safu for quick analysis in physiological labs. Interesting as health case studies, but excessive as a missing person case. What is about this information that is necessa–

“Safu,”

Another jolt.

“Shit, this guy doesn’t have an Ouija board lying around here, right?”

Fortunately for Safu, Shion glides past through Safu’s body, still pulling her in for a surprise glance. With a rapid quip to follow the guy, she also takes a closer look at the vase: Honeysuckles – medical flowers, also edible, and June’s birthday flower – staring at the sunlight’s dim rays through the wide windows.

‘June…Oh yeah, he came by my ‘place’ today,”

“If Safu were here, she would’ve detected these things much easier,” Shion murmurs while pulling the bulletin board again, propping it onto his desk, and then examining each case, “None of my team’s a legit doctor, how would they know,” Then organizing the board again. Safu only stares at Shion’s back while he tries to decipher whatever code is displayed there. Safu’s colorless ‘eyes’ follow Shion’s fingers and his ever-changing facial expression rapidly moves, connects, and locates pinpoints on the bulletin board; heck, she can even see herself doing the exact same thing in any possible scenario. Safu wonders if she could (extending her phantom hand closer to Shion’s back) experience something flesh and bone if she had been given a chance (trembling, but so steadily), if she wasn’t dead but just injured, function enough to work and to relive those memories (just a tip, then it’s guaranteed–)

“Are you taking my advice?”

!!…Elyurias and her stealthy ways of reading my mind, this is just great

Safu immediately pulled her hand away from Shion’s body like taking the real hand away from the scalding kettle; one next move, she could project her ever-wishing human experience back to herself. Even without the materialized sensations, Safu can almost sense Elyurias’ menacing presence hovering over her like a ‘gotcha’ moment. Safu scoffs at herself for the ‘you can’t always get what you want’ ethics/philosophy thing. Safu ‘swallows’ nervously, if she haunted Shion – possessed his body and seeing into his mind and all his thoughts – it would solve her biggest mystery: what was cooking in Shion’s mind. Her eyes back to Shion, who’s still scribbling his thoughts with the strings on the bulletin board and crafting another theory of his,

“If Safu was here, she could have diagnosed this easier,” Shion mumbles himself, “Then again, it would have been a more chaotic room…” he laughs, and immediately leans his head forward until it touches the board. The first thing Safu wants to say is, ‘you okay?’ but she knew her voice wouldn’t reach him. In a feeble attempt, Safu again reaches out for Shion, her fingertips close to his shoulder, and then–

“I miss you so much, I just–” Shion sighs, “I just miss you so much, Safu,”

“!!” Safu retracts her hand again, this time with more caution in her mind. The hesitation is the limit, Safu thinks perhaps this is it, she would be back on the clouds with Elyurias and her ‘I told you so’ lectures again while staring at the mortal world on the clouds again. No matter what she does, she can’t return to renew her friendship with Shion again–

“Is there a difference between a person missing another because they cannot see them and a person missing another because they can see them?” Safu looks down at her hands in reflection – is it so unfair, for people to miss each other but cannot see each other, feel each other, speak to each other. Perhaps this is the punishment for mortals who can see and experience, versus the immortal ones who can remember and forever exist.

But also, does it have to be this way?

A little bit later, Shion starts working again; then, he stops when he senses his shirt sleeve slightly raises from the slight breeze entering the room

“…Wind?” Shion looks behind, there’s a windy feel to his back, “That’s unusual, I closed the windows already,” gave him an excuse to look at the scenery: the overreaching blue skies encapsulate the New City’s youthfulness, the business penetrates well into the room, even the tiniest breeze could enter any second.

Shion gazes at the honeysuckle pot, he notices some flowers move slightly, He only raises a brow, eyes slightly stunned before resuming back to work.

It is another day for the rest of the world.

—

“It’s windy, the weather forecast did not say that,”

Footsteps upon Safu’s grave, technically bad news. That’s what Inukashi thinks. Usually, they are justified in that judgment, as an experienced grave visitor and maker, but this one had a sudden visit that Inukashi had to squint a few times before they could approve. This time’s visitor to Safu’s site is a familiar face – too familiar – underneath that dark cloak surrounding the tall figure is danger, subtlety, elegance, and mysterious energy for yearning manifested into a living being.

“Roses? Ain’t it a bit weird to put that on her grave?” Inukashi raises a brow.

“I missed her birthday. Besides, an ‘empty tomb’ is a rather captivating story, perfectly tragic. I think roses suit her more,” Nezumi quips and places the rose bouquets next to the earlier ones. Inukashi wants to push, ‘You don’t even know her birthday?!’ but they decide to let it rest: either someone slipped or Nezumi just happened to have Sherlockian critical thinking skills and decided to knock off something in June.

“Fun gestures,” Inukashi pouts, “Lucky that momma Karan knows the exact location, else we’ve been walking in circles just for flower delivery. Anyway, ya’ lucky ya’ got me as a guide for this. Surely, this stems further than a mere grave visit, yes?”

“Why would you say that?” Nezumi asks, but his voice doesn’t feel curious.

“Because you would’ve walkie-talked me to the specific needs; working with ya’ gave me some kind of telepathy, unfortunately,”

“,,,” Nezumi looks away and starts rummaging through his pockets, grabbing a white letter and extending it to Inukashi; the latter reluctantly accepts as they tentatively flip over the envelope,

“Long time no see, No.6,”

“A storm is coming,” Nezumi warns. The wind blows stronger than before.

#ascendedheavenly6 #aowyn #elrohir #celebrian #no.6 #no6 #no 6 #no. 6 #safu #shion #nezumi #inukashi

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