Nezumi … It was only a whisper in his dreams but the unfamiliar yet not foreign voice woke the rat nevertheless with a gentle twitch of his body from his deep sleep. Nezumi was sure that he had heard it somewhere before but refused to ponder about it any further in his drowsy state when he felt the soft bed and the lulling warmth around him.

He pressed himself closer to the source of radiating heat beside him with a low growl in the back of his throat and buried his face in the soft fabric before he slowly drifted off again. He only startled wide awake when he heard another breath next to him and noticed the restlessness of his new pillow and immediately shied away from the body lying next to him. His mind, still blurred from sleep and a fever, took its time before he remembered where he was and who was in the large bed beside him.

Shion … Shion's voice had awakened him from his dream when it had called his name in it while he was sleeping peacefully and unguarded. For a brief moment, Nezumi wondered involuntarily how it would be like to be able to sleep in such a carefree manner. But he dismissed the idea immediately – as much as he might wish for it; Nezumi would never be able to give in to his dreams so defenselessly.

Shion, however, was different – he grew up in the sheltering hand of No. 6 and knew no dangers; no people who would rob and murder him in his sleep. He was innocent and reckless and happy and – as reluctant as Nezumi was to admit it – selfless. Almost like an angel. But Shion was no angel – he was human but that didn't diminish his actions. Quite the opposite and Nezumi found himself amazed that imperfect and filthy beings like humans could do something like saving each other.

His presence alone could shake the foundations of his world but Shion had taken him in without hesitation, tended to his wounds, given him good and hot food as well as shelter from the storm and a place to rest; a place that could provide him a good night's sleep and where he could neglect his vigilance. He couldn't resist the warmth spreading inside him when he remembered how much this boy who had never lacked something to live risked to save his life. And maybe, just maybe, this gifted life would …

He was thrown out of his thought before he could finish it when Shion began to restlessly toss around and extended his hand in his direction – as if he were looking for Nezumi who had suddenly disappeared from his side. Nezumi hesitated for a moment before he lay back down next to Shion to wrap his arms around the boy and pull him into a tight hug as he buried his face in Shion's neck. There was still some time before the sunrise would be too close to escape out of town in the last hours of darkness.

Nezumi listened to Shion's breath as his racing heart slowly calmed down again and closed his eyes to get a little more sleep and to recover from his escape and the uncomfortably throbbing bullet wound in his shoulder. But before he had fully fallen asleep, he heard a murmur above him when slender arms were wrapped around his waist: "Nezumi …"

Nezumi froze and held his breath when it dawned on him that the voice that had startled him from his sleep maybe hadn't been only a fantasy of his dreams – but Shion himself who had mumbled his name. Nezumi was sure that he hadn't been conscious back then – just like now. He had learned very early in his childhood to assess whether the people around him were actually asleep or just pretending to be … Shion's breathing was deep and his body completely relaxed. Nezumi doubted that he would be able to simulate sleep as convincingly even if he had wanted to.

Why did he call him in his sleep then? Did Shion dream of him? He tightened his hold on the slender waist of the boy when once again warmth spread through his body and radiated into his limbs – and this time, Nezumi couldn't deny that it was joy.

Why did he care whether Shion dreamed of him or not? Maybe because he wanted to leavean equally lasting impression on him, to have imprinted himself permanently in his life just as much as Shion had been in his? All of that shouldn't have concerned him but before he could remind himself that human relationships lead to certain death for everyone who dealt with them, he pushed himself impulsively further up on Shion's body until he was close enough that he could press his nose against Shion's cheek.

He took a deep breath and tried to bury the desire that wanted to tempt him to a stupidity – that wanted to take advantage of the current weakness of his body mercilessly – inside of him like he had learned to do, like he did with all the unnecessary emotions in his heart. But when Shion's scent entered his nose and clouded his mind only further – he smelled like home even though Nezumi hadn't had a home for years – he felt the heat inside him swell even further, rising from his stomach up to his throat and tumble out of his mouth: "Say it again."

He didn't want to hear how needy his voice sounded, how foreign in its roughness, as if this plea was the only thing he had ever wanted in his life and the only desire he couldn't bear to not be fulfilled. He waited a few moments; seconds that felt like eternity when he buried his face further in Shion's shoulder and neck and persevered, and when Shion didn't budge evenmore words left Nezumi's lips – insistently in their tone – before he could lock them away; glad that his weakness had passed without the world being able to find out about it. "Shion."

He was surprised how easy and fluidly Shion's name seemed to cross his lips, as if it was a name he had wished to whisper for a lifetime. Maybe not just whisper – to call it, sing and shout it until the whole world knew it. Until the whole world knew who was blamable for his inner turmoil … He was dangerous. Shion was dangerous but that didn't matter as he moved and finally broke the silence with a sleepy sigh: "Nezumi … Nezumi …"

He was amazed how normal – almost beautiful – his name sounded from Shion's mouth and how his voice changed. He called it with a feeling Nezumi could only describeas longing and even though he wasn't entirely sure, it was nothing compared to the disgusted tone with which the people usually spat it out. As if it was a bitter taste on their tongue that they wanted to get rid of as quickly as possible.

But Shion was different in so many ways which was already proven in this night alone. And Nezumi was content with it. He closed his eyes and let himself being lulled to a half-sleep by the warmth of the other body, only kept awake by Shion's heartbeat which gradually turned into a kind of lullaby. He was almost asleep, saw figures of his dreams already drifting past his eyelids, when Shion stirred.

"Safu …" Nezumi flinched just like after a blow, so hard, that he shook off Shion's arms around him and sat up straight before he even knew it, crouched into a defensive posture which he had internalized as a reflex out of sheer survival instinct. When he became aware of it, he relaxed again, forced his body to do so, while the questions were literally piling up in his mind. Why? Why did hearing Shion muttering a different name in his sleep feel so painful? Why did Shion dream of 'Safu' when just a moment ago it was him who had dominated his dreams?

Nezumi wanted to just lay back next to Shion and forget that he had ever said this name, to forget how it had felt, to forget what those feelings in him might imply. Instead, he studied Shion's guileless face and recognized an affection in the soft contours of it that felt like ice water in his heart. Safu was a girl's name, wasn't it? And she had to mean a lot to him when she found a space his dreams, when she was able to push the drastic experiences of this night so easily to the back of Shion's drowsy thoughts. He surely liked her and she was important to him; more important than Nezumi and although the idea was only natural – they had known each other for only a few hours, how should Shion be able to like him? – it still hurt. Nezumi was used to avoid any kind of pain and injury, just as much as any kind of attachment but he couldn't run from this agony and he couldn't cut those feelings out of his body like he would do with a bullet or an ulcer.

She would take him away from him, she would pry the only human away from him who had ever given him a fleeting ideaof security, she would take Shion away! Nezumi's racing thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he forced down the turmoil of his heart and realized what he had implied. Take away … Did Shion ever really belong to him? Why did he wish so suddenly that he would?

He shook his head, trying desperately to chase away these thoughts … And yet: They lived in a reality in which this homeliness, this security could be stolen from him again at any time. He would have to leave this place soon and would be thrown back into the cold cruel world of loneliness. He would have to fight daily for his survival and to make decisions in a split second, just as he had done for most of his life. This moment here, these few hours were just a blink of an eye, and just as fleeting.

And Shion wouldn't fare differently. He had aided a VC in his escape, gave him shelter and food, went openly against the authorities. At best, they would degrade him – at worst, he would die. The only thing protecting him from an immediate execution was probably his status as a Special Curriculum. He would have to endure and put up with a lot, would be fighting for his life and would have to adapt accordingly. For both of them the world had been turned upside down tonight.

And in a world that didn't hold any assurance for both their futures, he wanted to own something from Shion nobody could take from him,no matter how hard they tried – even if 'Safu' triedto. He wanted something to hold onto during cold nights and cruel days, something that would burn this night even deeperinto his mind than it already was. He wanted to burn this memory into him although he dreaded the fire like death – it was death; this memory would be the death of him but it didn't matter. He couldn't be sure if Shion wouldn't lose himself in No. 6, that he wouldn't change and give in to this hell and thus force him to soil his only warm memory with dark feelings. He had to create something that could never be tainted in its intention and he wanted to give the same back to Shion; give everything back.

With a swift movement, Nezumi sat up and swung his body over Shion, one leg on each side of his body, straddling his hips, and leaned over the sleeping boy until the tips of their noses touched. He could feel Shion's breath hot on his face and closed his eyes in another moment of weakness, let it caress his skin like a gentle breeze before he opened them again and looked the dreaming boy over, checking for a last time whether he was still fast asleep.

"I am sorry but I'm stealing it – after all I'm still just a thief" he whispered with a rueful smile, his voice no more than a littlepuffthat ghosted over Shion's lips and disappeared just as quickly. But Nezumi replaced it before the touch of warmth could disappear. He hesitated for a moment before he drew closer to Shion, their lips so close that he could feel their warmness, their touch, and let his gaze wander gently over his face. Then he pressed them together, skipped the soft first contact in his haste but bethought himself immediately and eased the pressure he applied to Shion's mouth to gently move his lips against the other boy's, while a warmth, a heat spread inside of him of which he was sure would scorch him from the inside out.

He heard a strange sound, deep and very primal, when he continued to move his lips against Shion's, to rub them against each other and every now and then open his mouth, and only when another sound arose from his throat, he realized that these noises came from him. It was a strange feeling to know that another human could bring forth such seemingly animalisticsounds from his insides but the thought was forgotten when Shion sighed beneath him, opening his lips and letting his warm breath flow into his mouth. Before Nezumi knew what he was doing, he dipped his tongue into Shion's mouthand nudged against Shion's before he abruptly withdrew from the kiss initiated by him as if he had been burnt, scared of the direction this was going; how much he had lost himself in it.

Breathing heavily, Nezumi hid his tingling lips behind the back of his hand as he stared terrified at Shion, his mouth still open and even in the darkness he could see the slightly more reddish color that had spread across his lips. And despite all his resolutions, all his teachings he had internalized, a sigh escaped him as he flopped down on Shion and closed his eyes – always careful not to wake the boy and hoping that the darkness would soothe him and let him sink back into a dreamless slumber. Maybe I've got a fever after all, was the last thought that crossed his mind as the warmth enveloped him completely and let him slide into unconsciousness.