Last chapter ;-; It's been such a great journey and I'm going to miss writing this behemoth… I'm already listless… But it also feels good to have finished. Thank you everyone who's been reading, and commenting, and following, and generally being awesome people! You guys are the best and this wouldn't have been as much fun without you!

XXXX

Nezumi had joked about Safu making herself mayor. Well, she didn't, because the city had voted against having a single ruler. Instead, the community decided on a committee, persons handpicked based on experience, trustworthiness, and, in all honesty, likeability. Safu might not have been mayor, but she was definitely one of the key members of the so-called Restructural Committee.

The No. 6 residents hadn't been as unwelcoming to the West Block citizens as Nezumi feared. They were wary, but Safu made a strong case for having an outside opinion within the city's leadership, and it was not beneath her to mention that West Block deserved a voice in the committee, since No. 6 had mistreated its people for so long. There were no arguments against that, although the jury was still out on whether the Committee would give a formal apology to the West Block.

Shion, too, was offered a spot in the Restructural Committee, but he refused.

"I'm not fit to lead anyone," he told Safu, and she simply nodded.

"Take your time, Shion," she said, before heading off to yet another meeting with the other five city-states.

While Safu was striving to minimize the fallout of governmental collapse and make the transition to liberality as smooth as possible, Rikiga was reveling in the chaos. After the novelty of the Correctional Facility incident had died down, and the subsequent unveiling of the disturbing nature of its research lost its sting, the Information Bureau turned its eye to the Restructural Committee. The reports speculated on the other cities' reputations and motives, detailed the Committee's efforts to clean up the corruption, and especially enjoyed broadcasting when another crooked official had been indicted. The news in No. 6 had never been more eventful.

Kaoru suffered Rikiga's ego, doing much of the legwork for his stories, while the jerk got to report them. They complained often of mistreatment, but, in truth, they enjoyed the work. Kaoru never wanted to find themself cooped up in an office from nine to five, so they relished the opportunity to wander around the city, prying into people's business and getting paid for it.

Rikiga begrudgingly admitted that they had a good nose for sniffing out leads, and Kaoru began to entertain a future in information gathering. In the No. 6 of old such a career aspiration would not have been tolerated, but the Restructural Committee promised new order and a freer future. Anything was possible.

XXXX

"Welcome back." Shion flicked his eyes up from his book, falling on the bags in Nezumi's arms. "What's all that?"

Nezumi grunted and dumped the bags on the coffee table. "Food, mostly. I ran into Renka in the market and she forced me to take some cookies she made back for you."

"Forced you, huh?" Shion closed his book and rummaged through the bag to find a cookie. Snickerdoodle. His stomach rumbled greedily. It tasted even better than it looked.

"That reminds me. Rikiga and Kaoru stopped by."

Nezumi arched an eyebrow. "Kaoru? I didn't realize they were buddies now."

"I wouldn't say they're buddies…"

Shion couldn't recall much of what was said during the visit. There was a lot of cursing and disparaging comments thrown between Rikiga and Kaoru, and Shion almost began to wonder why they had come. But after he had offered tea and got them to sit down, apart from each other, things had become more agreeable.

As usual, Kaoru had brought Pup along, and Shion spent the time equally divided between petting the energetic dog and warding off Rikiga's compliments and suggestions as politely as he could manage.

Eventually Kaoru intervened, "No one wants to live with you, old man. You're creepy as hell and you smell like cigarettes and booze."

Rikiga turned red and struggled unsuccessfully for a response. Shion felt a little bad for him, even if he silently agreed with the latter half of Kaoru's statement.

Kaoru glared at Rikiga another second before turning a grave look on Shion. "The old man doesn't know when to shut up, but he's right about one thing: you should ditch Nezumi. He's a piece of shit."

Shion didn't mean to, but he laughed.

Kaoru frowned. "I'm serious, Shion. That guy is as shifty as it gets. He's a rat for a reason."

Shion only smiled. It wasn't that he thought it laughable that Rikiga and Kaoru were trying to warn him away from Nezumi. Nezumi's personality rubbed people the wrong way—Shion understood this, for even he got frustrated with him sometimes—but it was funny because the way they spoke made it seem like he was better than Nezumi, which was not true. Shion had his flaws, and Nezumi his, but Kaoru and Rikiga didn't understand just how much Nezumi had sacrificed these last two months.

But he thanked them for the warning anyway, and promised not to let Nezumi bully him.

Shion liked Kaoru's no-nonsense demeanor, and he knew that any person who managed to get into their good graces was bound to earn a loyal and protective companion. He hoped in time they could become friends.

"Oh," Shion said, the recollection sparking yet another remembrance, "and Rikiga's going to buy us a new clock."

Nezumi made a face and Shion gave a sympathetic shrug. "Why'd you even tell him about losing the other one?"

"I didn't. He saw it was missing, and insisted… He brought gifts." Shion motioned to a brown paper bag, which Nezumi immediately speared with a suspicious look. "It has vegetables and bread and cheese in it. And wine!" A smile twitched at his lips. "Rikiga didn't want me to share with you. He doesn't like you very much."

Nezumi snorted. "So the old man condescended to visit our humble abode, did he? And with such high-quality gifts. He's wooing you in earnest. You sure you won't grant his wish and become his adopted son?"

Shion's face pinched a little. "Please don't joke about that."

Nezumi smirked. "You said wine?"

"Yes. From No. 3."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I could use a drink."

Shion put his book down and hopped up to retrieve their mugs. Even though they had managed to replace all their stolen goods—the new heater was especially welcome—their utensils were still as eclectic as ever.

No matter. Drinking wine out of mugs seemed just their style.

They split the bottle between them. It was good, which was no surprise considering No. 3 was well known for its fine wines. By the time they had finished their last mugful, the bunker felt comfortably warm and its inhabitants were in the best spirits they had been in a while.

"Please, Nezumi! Just this once!" Shion waved the book in his face, and Nezumi swatted it away.

"For the last time, no."

"C'mon, just this one scene, Nezumi. I've wanted to read with you ever since you recited that Macbeth soliloquy."

"You've fantasized about this for that long? You need to find yourself a hobby, Shion, and fast."

"Nezumi," Shion huffed. He jabbed at finger at the table. "You're making the mice upset."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

Nezumi glanced at the mice and realized that all three were surreptitiously eating the corners of the cheese and bread. They started guiltily and darted into the brown bag to hide.

"If you don't read the scene with me, I'll bite off your nose."

Nezumi's attention snapped back to Shion. "What the hell?"

"That's right." Shion shifted on the couch with a menacing look. "I wouldn't even feel bad about it, 'cause then you'd never be able turn your nose up at me again."

Nezumi pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. "I can't believe you just said that. Even I'm embarrassed." He shook his head. "You're lucky you're drunk, otherwise I'd have to swear off all contact with you."

"I'm not drunk."

"Why do you always deny it?"

"Am not."

"You're acting like a child, like you always do when you're drunk."

"If I'm drunk, you're drunk. We had the same amount!"

"I thought you were supposed to be smart. Regardless of the amount, I have a higher tolerance."

Nezumi definitely felt the alcohol, but he was confident that he was still in control. He might be a little less reserved than usual, but he was by no means Shion.

Shion narrowed his eyes and got up. Nezumi shifted uneasily as he bent over him and stared into his eyes in that intense, skin itching way that he did.

Nezumi pressed as far back against the couch as he could. "If you even try to bite my nose, I'll head-butt you."

Judging by the pout Shion was wearing, he had been considering something along those lines. He soon recovered, though, and smirked. "Hey, Nezumi, did you know…"

He dragged the last word out and paused, perhaps waiting for Nezumi to ask him to continue. Nezumi would give him no such satisfaction. Realizing this, Shion finished.

"Your eyes are the color of silver coins," he said smilingly. "Do you know that color?"

"Ugh. Stop," Nezumi chuckled, and pushed Shion's face away. "Just remembering that depresses me."

Shion nodded. "It was pretty awful. That description doesn't even do your eyes justice."

"Please don't tell me you're going to wax poetic about my eyes."

"Well, not if you're going to be so ungrateful about it," he scoffed. "It's fine. I'll just hoard my poetry and publish it when you leave—"

Shion's jaw snapped shut with an audible clack. Nezumi felt a flash of heat spread through him.

"Shit," Shion muttered, pulling back sharply. "Can we just… You're right; I'm drunk. I didn't mean to… Could we just forget that? Please?"

"Actually…" Nezumi straightened against the back of the couch, drawing himself up for what was to come. "We should talk about this. It's been a few months."

Shion's shoulders hunched and Nezumi had the sick feeling that he was kicking a wounded animal. He's not broken, he reminded himself.

"You're doing a lot better now. So…"

"So…" Shion echoed quietly.

Nezumi pressed his lips into a firm line. He had stayed too long already. He knew, because this was harder to say than it should've been.

"Soon."

Weak, Nezumi growled at himself.

"Within the next two weeks," he amended.

"The next two weeks." Shion toyed with a string on his sleeve, but finally managed to look at him again. "That is soon."

It was. But it was also not soon enough. Every day Nezumi's longing to leave grew. He couldn't help but feel like there was something missing. He didn't know what it was, but he knew in every fiber of his being that he couldn't gain what he needed by staying here.

Shion dulled the longing's ache, though. Nezumi couldn't help but be amazed by this discovery—and intimidated.

And it was moments like that, when he felt the uncomfortable clash of emotions inside him that he knew there was something missing. It was easier to keep still around Shion, easier to ignore the pressing urge to run, but it wasn't enough.

I'm never fair to you, am I, Shion?

Nezumi couldn't help the bitterness in his mouth when he spoke again. "Shion… I can't stay forever."

This was answered with an agitated hair ruffle. "I know. I know. But… You'll say goodbye, right?" Nezumi stared at him. Shion's brow furrowed. "When the time comes, you'll say goodbye."

"Yes."

"Promise."

"You really think I'd leave without telling you?" Shion frowned, but he continued to try to extort the promise with his earnest look. Nezumi sighed. "Yes, Shion. I promise."

Shion relaxed, and Nezumi felt some of his own tension ebb away.

"Two weeks," Shion murmured. His gaze drifted down to the table laden with groceries. Nezumi watched as he cleared the empty wine bottle off, pulled a few potatoes out of Rikiga's bag, and began to chop them.

"What're you doing?"

"Let's make soup."

Nezumi cocked an eyebrow. "You wanna make soup?"

"I do." He glanced up. "It's a soup kind of day."

If Nezumi knew Shion any less, he would've been surprised by how quickly he bounced back, but he knew Shion well enough to realize he had not recovered at all. This was coping, and Nezumi would be damned if he did anything but encourage it.

"Are you sure? The last few times we've had soup it was… disastrous, to put it kindly."

"That's not putting it kindly. But I guess you're right," Shion conceded. "How about I help you cut up the ingredients, and you can take care of the actual soup."

Nezumi smiled. "Good boy."

XXXX

Convincing Shion was proving to be a lot more difficult than Nezumi anticipated. He had been so gloomy and quiet the last few months, he had forgotten that Shion was perfectly capable of not being a push over.

He started to resort to guilt tripping for his ends. "You like Renka and Lili, don't you?"

Shion looked away. "Of course I do. It's not that. It's just…"

"Renka could use the help. It's just her and Lili now—and isn't the baby due soon? They might need you."

"Not for another month or so. Besides, No. 6 has state of the art medical facilities, doesn't it? She's in good hands. I'd rather stay where I am."

Nezumi swiped his bangs away from his face. Even with his hair shorter it still gave him trouble now and again. He switched tactics. "You'd be closer to Safu at Renka's."

"I don't mind the walk." Shion drew to a stop and gave Nezumi a look. "The bunker's my home, Nezumi, I don't want to live anywhere else." His look turned grumpy and suspicious. "You don't even like No. 6, why are you trying to get me to move here?"

Nezumi clenched his teeth. Damn it, Shion, you're going to make me say it, aren't you.

"I don't want you living in that room alone after I'm gone." Shion blinked at him, and Nezumi barely resisted the urge to snap something demeaning at him. "If you don't want to live with Renka, fine, then live with Safu. Or Rikiga, I don't give a shit, but you're living with someone."

Nezumi's glare dared Shion to refuse, but he didn't seem to be in an obstinate mood. Shion frowned and dragged his eyes over the park. There was an unease in them that Nezumi could identify with.

They stood facing each other, flanked on both sides by the bright plumes of flowers, all in full and everlasting bloom. The air smelt sweet, but crisp, like a bouquet on ice. Nezumi couldn't remember a time when the Forest Park was not rampant with flora. They didn't seem to know that seasons existed. He hoped the Restructural Committee would remedy this.

"I can't live in No. 6, Nezumi. You know why."

"Don't be a child, Shion."

A look of hurt flitted over Shion's face and Nezumi clicked his tongue.

"You're not the only one who's suffered at the hands of No. 6. I don't think there's a person inside or outside the wall who hasn't. But if you want things to get better—if you want to get better—you can't keep blaming everyone.

"What happened to all that idealist crap about tearing down the wall and brokering peace between the West Block and No. 6? It's never gonna happen if you keep seeing everyone within the walls as a villain. You need to see that there are good people in No. 6, too."

Shion's eyebrows rose, and a smile was short to follow.

"What?" Nezumi said, suddenly self-conscious.

"Nothing. It's just… It's rare to hear you speaking so… optimistically. You almost sounded like me."

Nezumi tried to keep his face neutral, but despite his best efforts he felt his face grow hot. Shion's eyes widened.

"Shut up," Nezumi growled. He pivoted smartly on his heel and strode on, but Shion just chased him with a laugh.

"Are you blushing?" Nezumi ignored him and Shion laughed again. "When did you become so wise, Nezumi?"

"I said shut up."

"I'm serious, though."

Shion reached out and tugged his sleeve to signal him to stop. Nezumi wanted to pull loose, but he realized how ridiculously childish that would look. He had to settle for coming to an abrupt halt so that Shion nearly collided with him, which was almost satisfying enough.

"You're right, Nezumi," Shion said after a moment to find the words. "It's hard for me to see this city as anything more than a villain. I'm still not ready to forgive what No. 6 did. It's not just the Hunt, it's… it's everything No. 6 stands for. It's years of neglect and suffering." Shion's smile was just a shadow of the grin it was moments ago.

"But I'm trying. I know it has potential, especially with Safu and others like her on the Committee, and every day I see them working to fix the wrongs, I feel a little more hopeful. And if even you say that No. 6 can be something worth believing in, then… I'll give it a chance."

Nezumi didn't know what to say. It wasn't that he really believed in No. 6, not yet. But there was a possibility that it could become a place worthy of living in, and for some reason, Nezumi felt that it needed Shion's support in order to become so.

Shion bit his lip. "I'll live with Renka. After. You don't have to worry about me, Nezumi."

"Who said anything about being worried?" And now Nezumi did pull his arm from Shion's grip. "It's obnoxious to think of you living like a recluse for the rest of your life. And Safu's been hounding me about your health. She's as bad as you—worse."

"Safu's a good friend," Shion said, like the airhead he was.

"Come on," Nezumi grumbled. "We're already late. Kaoru's going to bitch at me as soon as we show up. I don't know why I even bother coming anymore."

"I thought you liked hanging out with Kaoru."

"That's like saying I like smelling like wet dog, which is exactly what I smell like after I 'hang out' with Kaoru. We're lucky they only have one dog."

"One Pup is enough. I think Kaoru would have more, though, if they could. Could you imagine if Kaoru had a whole pack of dogs?"

"No, and I don't want to."

XXXX

Nezumi left on a cool spring morning.

He had a bag packed with a few food items, a canteen, an extra set of clothes, and nothing more. Nezumi brushed the fringe of his bangs back, more out of habit than anything, and took a last look at the warehouse that marked the bunker.

When he imagined leaving four years ago, he was certain he wouldn't grieve for anything. But he would miss this. The trove of books, the sound of rain on quiet evenings…

Shion was watching him with his dark eyes. The look was earnest and familiar, and Nezumi was relieved by it. Shion had been dodging eye contact constantly the last few days and he dreaded it would be a sullen parting. But he needn't have worried; Shion had always done right by him.

Nezumi knew why it was hard for Shion to face him. He had probably known for a long time, but he pretended he couldn't see it. It was easier that way, for the both of them. He had dreamt of escaping ever since he could remember, and his mind had tied itself so tightly around the notion he couldn't imagine anything could have a stronger lure. And yet…

Shion. There was something about this boy that pulled. His goodness, his strength, even his brokenness.

Come with me.

The words were on his tongue, but he didn't say them. Shion could not come with him. Shion needed stability, and Nezumi needed escape. They needed to be apart for both their sakes.

Shion was biting down on his bottom lip; any harder and he would certainly draw blood. Looking at him now, desperately trying to hold down his desires and support his decision, Nezumi felt a stifling warmth flood his chest.

"Shion…"

A hundred endings to that sentence were poised on his tongue, but none meant anything. So instead Nezumi cupped Shion's face and pulled him into a kiss.

It was a chaste kiss, little more than the meeting of lips, but it was everything. There was possibility in it that made Nezumi's stomach twist and his heartbeat quicken.

Shion stilled at first contact, but the shock didn't last long. He gripped Nezumi's wrists and kissed back.

The kiss changed when he started to reciprocate. Shion kissed with abandon, passionate and intimate, and just short of forceful.

Oh.

Nezumi pulled back. Shion let him slip away, but there were tears streaming down his cheeks where they hadn't been before.

"Was that a goodbye kiss?" he whispered.

Nezumi brushed a tear from Shion's cheek with his thumb while he considered the question. "It was a promise. I'll come back one day... But you have to promise me something in return." Shion's brow furrowed at the hardness in his voice. "Promise me that I'll have something to come back to. Promise me that you'll still be here."

The color drained from Shion's face at the implication in the words. "I'm not going to—" He swallowed and wiped away his tears. "I won't do something like that again. I promise. You don't have to worry about me."

Nezumi nodded.

Neither Nezumi nor Shion would say goodbye. "Goodbye" was too final. But any other variation of the sentiment sounded too flippant for such a weighty moment. They could do nothing but stare at each other, Shion memorizing every feature of Nezumi's face, the wisps of hair curling over his ears, the sheen of his eyes, cataloguing every memory and storing them away for the days to come, knowing that Nezumi was doing the same.

The stillness was broken by a small squeak.

"Tsukiyo?"

Nezumi blinked as the mouse leapt up onto his pant leg and climbed onto his shoulder. The mouse bobbed its head at him. Nezumi frowned and glanced at Shion.

"Take him," he said. "He wants to go with you, and I'd feel better if he did."

Nezumi couldn't deny this request. They had been through a lot together in the last few months, and he was fond of Tsukiyo. The mouse twitched its nose at Shion and chittered softly before burying into the superfibre shawl.

"Shion—" Nezumi tried, but then Shion was kissing him again, this time soft and lingering and—

Hell.

Nezumi knew better than to entertain this kind of weakness. They were making it harder on themselves. But even as he reasoned, Nezumi leaned into the kiss, letting whatever words he planned to say melt in the space between them.

And this time it was Shion who pulled back. He pushed Nezumi gently, but firmly, away, far enough that they each had to take a step back to keep balanced. There was an apology in Shion's eyes, but he was smiling, as though he wasn't at all sorry.

"I'm not going anywhere, Nezumi. I'll always be here, so… you're welcome to stop by any time. I'll be ready."

Nezumi's answering smile was impudent. "Will you? Well then, don't be surprised if I climb in through your window one day. You know how I like to be dramatic."

"Like Peter Pan?" Shion's eyes shined. "I'll keep the window open."

"Give Safu my regards. And Kaoru, too, I suppose… Though I'll probably get no thanks from them."

"I will."

Nezumi flashed a second, more genuine smile and turned away.

He did not look back. He knew Shion would still be there, now and ever, however long.

It's just me from now on.

The prospect was terrifying and exhilarating and everything he hoped it would be. It was up to him now, whether he lived or died, starved or thrived, settled or wandered indefinitely. He could do whatever he wanted, and go wherever he pleased with no respect to anyone else.

And then… One day…

But he let that thought slip away. The far future was not to be dwelt on. There was no guarantee he'd even live until tomorrow. That was reality, and he embraced it head on. Tsukiyo chirped softly against his neck and Nezumi felt a smile twist his lips.

He walked on. The noon sun hung high above, and its soft rays cast no shadows.