The curtains were still open, and the east-facing window woke Nezumi early. He squinted in the dusty, just-before-dawn suggestion of light and belatedly noticed Shion's head resting on the side of the couch.

Nezumi sat up, careful not to wake him, and chewed on a half-grin. His poor host hadn't even closed his bedroom door on his way into the living room; evidently, he'd simply sat down on the floor and fallen asleep against the couch. When Nezumi got up, he draped his blanket over Shion's shoulders.

He stretched, appreciating a decent night's rest, and set to work. He left his hair down, letting it reach down past his shoulders, but he helped himself to one of Shion's sweaters and started up the coffee machine. A press would have been better, but hey, if Shion liked his coffee soulless, Nezumi wasn't going to complain.

In the peace and the morning light, he got a chance to take in the clean, nearly sterile angles of the apartment; the living room was hardly separate from the kitchen, only the counter drawing the line, and there was hardly any decoration – no photographs standing up, no flowers on the simple, circular table near the window. It was quiet, dead, and grossly unlike the Shion he had expected to find. Nezumi turned his eyes away from the empty efficiency of the space, and he watched the coffee brew. When he noticed Shion beginning to stir, he returned to the couch, sitting down on the floor with him.

"Good morning, your Highness," Nezumi purred. "Sleeping like that'll hurt your neck."

Shion still had shadows in his eyes, but he blinked through them and accepted the mug Nezumi offered. The buttons of his shirt were all in place, but the collar was rumpled. The city boy cleared his throat and thanked his guest, looking down at the dark surface of his drink.

"We didn't end last night on a good note," Shion mumbled, color rising to his cheeks.

Did Shion need an excuse to want to sleep with him? Nezumi narrowed his eyes and measured the other man's apologetic posture, but he quickly smiled and reached forward to tug Shion's collar into place.

"It's okay," he whispered. "We can make up for it tonight."

He couldn't have resisted. That little shit Torey had been kissing Shion, and hell if he was going to let that go unavenged. How he had survived four years without seeing Shion blush, he would never know. Shion gaped and didn't respond immediately, so Nezumi continued, crooning closer to his jaw.

"You don't have plans with that other guy, do you? Let's ditch him."

"I…" Nezumi could feel Shion swallow, and it made the corners of his lips curl up. Shion coughed and adjusted his hold on his coffee mug. "I have a video meeting with the leaders of No. 3 tonight at eight."

"Really? That's how you're turning me down?" Nezumi chuckled and released the poor boy's shirt, deciding that he had teased him enough. "Your loss. I'm still waiting for my 'welcome home' kiss."

"Maybe later, when we actually go home," Shion groused back, and he looked down to seek security in his coffee mug.

Nezumi merely winked. He shifted over to sit next to Shion with their backs against the couch. "But what's this about you having a meeting with world leaders? What are you, mayor?"

"My title is 'committee member'," Shion explained. "We don't have a mayor anymore."

"Wait, seriously?" Nezumi blinked, feeling a tangle of pride and revulsion.

"We have the Restructural Committee, comprising twelve committee members, and each of those leads a sub-committee."

Nezumi hummed and took another sip of coffee. "Fancy. And in four years, no one's figured out mining regulations?"

Shion started to defend himself, but his voice choked to silence when someone knocked on the door.

"Shion?" Torey's voice called through the door. "Are you up?" When Shion threw an uncomfortable glance at Nezumi, the rat just shrugged and continued to drink his coffee.

"Be nice," Shion pleaded softly, and he stood up. Nezumi followed his host to the door, and Shion answered it with a tempered smile. "Good morning, Torey. I'm almost ready to go."

Go where? To work, right? Nezumi bit back the question, though, and when the door opened widely enough to reveal Torey in all of his clean-cut, well-dressed glory, he grinned crookedly.

"Mornin'," Nezumi cut in, demanding to be noticed right off. "I didn't know we'd have visitors. I'd have made more coffee."

Torey's face wiped clean of any reaction, and he stared at Nezumi for a quiet, lifeless moment. Nezumi watched the politician's eyes flicker over the coffee mug, the messy hair, Shion's sweater on a stranger's shoulders, before the blonde finally put on a smile.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of imposing," Torey replied, leaning on that last word with false manners. "I don't think I've had the pleasure…?"

And you never will, Nezumi almost snapped back. Shion stepped in.

"Torey, this is my dear friend, Nezumi. Nezumi, this is my fellow committee member, Torey." Nezumi could practically hear Shion sweating. Let him sweat.

"Ah, that's right! Nezumi!" Torey chirped, widening that fake smile. He wasn't an actor, Nezumi thought; he was a fucking robot. "Your childhood friend? The hero of the city, who sang on top of the Moondrop? I wasn't sure I would ever get to meet you, Nezumi. I'd heard that you'd left the city behind indefinitely."

Shion remained still, but Nezumi felt the boy's heart flinch. He bared his teeth back at Torey, feigning amity.

"I couldn't stay away," Nezumi crooned. "I got in last night. The wine was great, by the way. It would have aged nicely." He winced when Shion stepped on his foot.

Torey didn't miss a beat. "Welcome back, then. There's an extra room upstairs, so you don't have to sleep on the couch again," he offered sweetly, glancing over Nezumi's shoulder. The couch across the room still had a pillow and blankets folded over it.

"No, thanks. If you sent me upstairs, I'd just get lonely and come back through the window. Besides, I don't mind it. Shion and I are used to sharing a bed." Nezumi returned the sugary smile, even batting his eyelashes.

"That's enough," Shion snapped. His face wasn't bashful this time; it was pale, mortified, and angry. "We have to go to work. Nezumi came here to tell me something concerning destructive activities in the Land of Mao, and I'd like to inform the other members."

Oh, now he was interested in that? Nezumi's stomach twisted up, but he kept up his smile. "Perfect. Should I come with you, or do you prefer me as a homemaker?"

Torey didn't seem to like either idea. "I heard you were an actor. We've opened a new theater a few blocks down, if you wanted to stop by. They're holding auditions for Romeo and Juliet."

"I play a mean Nurse," Nezumi answered dryly. "You wouldn't be bad yourself, Tommy. Say the right lines, and you could fall in love with anyone."

"Nezumi," Shion growled. "Go to the theater. I'll be home late tonight, so don't bother waiting up."

Shion's cold rage was even worse than Torey's smug, silent glee. Once he recovered from a moment of vertigo, Nezumi left his coffee on the counter, grabbed his coat and shoes, and walked out ahead of them, pushing past Torey on the way.

.

Kicking his shoes on as he walked was more difficult and embarrassing than Nezumi would have guessed, but hell if he was going to stop after he marched out of the apartment complex that dramatically. His right shoe was loose on his ankle, and the left was carried in his hand, defiant and ridiculous. He worked his way out of the new Chronos as quickly as possible, storming past construction and temporary fences, and ignored the few glances he garnered from passersby. He only paused to lean against a brick wall and pull his shoes on once he had stepped into an older district. Shion and Torey were half a mile away, being together, and that made cooling down a slow, arduous process for Nezumi. So he'd been a little territorial and gauche, and so he hadn't made a great first impression. So what? Torey would eventually leave, and Shion would forgive him.

What if he had just kissed Shion last night instead of pulling away?

Out of habit, Nezumi bit back a sigh. He knew that he wanted Shion to want him to stay, so why was it so hard to hear it and acquiesce? Stupid Walt Whitman. Nezumi was fine and dandy when he was reciting something, but take away his script, and he was a defensive, contradictory, emotional wreck. So he blamed poetry for only having half the answers.

"Damn, did he kick you out so fast you couldn't even put on your shoes? Can't say I blame him."

Nezumi's head jerked back up when he recognized the voice, and he fought against a relieved grin.

"Hey, asshole," Nezumi chuckled. "The years have been kind to you."

Inukashi was still surrounded by dogs, plus a puppy. Little Shionn held tight to his parent's hand, well-fed, bright-eyed, and working up to his fifth year, and he stomped on the sidewalk even when Inukashi had stopped walking. Inukashi himself had grown, his dark hair longer and wilder, but he was at least a smidge cleaner and less scrawny. His chest was still flat, but his hips and thighs had started to fill out, confusing everyone even further.

"Momma, who's that?" Shionn barked, tugging on Inukashi's fingers. The dog-keeper picked the copper-haired child up and held him on his hip, still smirking at his old acquaintance.

"This is a sad little man named Nezumi. Say hi, Shionn." Shionn shouted a greeting to the sad little man and waved. "Seriously, though. What are you doing back, and why isn't that airhead here to sigh and moon over you?"

The full weight of how alone Nezumi was finally hit him. He cleared his throat and finished putting on his left shoe, and then took his coat off of his arm. He was still wearing Shion's sweater, and he didn't want to wear too many layers in the warm autumn, so he wound up staring at the extra garment.

"Don't strain yourself," Inukashi snorted. "Come on. What happened? Momma Karan will want to see you. Let's go get lunch."

Karan. Would she agree with Shion? She probably resented Nezumi for abandoning him. Worse, she probably just adored Torey.

And Nezumi had met the man she had married. Shion's father was out there somewhere, and he couldn't tell her that. He hadn't been able to tell Shion that last night. His tongue froze under all of this, and Inukashi lifted a brow.

"What's the hold up? You didn't sleep with him, did you?" Inukashi chortled.

"No, nothing like that," Nezumi choked. "Shit, Inukashi, you'd say this in front of your kid?"

"I can handle it," Shionn piped up. "Momma Karan says I'm really mature."

Inukashi broke into a moment of giggles. "You're a nut," he told his son, and then looked back up to Nezumi. "Sheltering him doesn't help. He's too quick – a lot like your boyfriend."

"My boyfriend, huh?" Nezumi's jaw set. "So did you know about Torey?"

Inukashi's face sobered. "Oh, great. You met him? That explains everything." He set Shionn back down and let him play and chat with the dogs. "You'll really want to talk to Karan, then."

.

The bakery hadn't changed. The paint on the back door was still peeling, the air still smelled warm and sweet, and old man Rikiga was still at the counter, trying his damnedest to pull his foot out of his mouth and recommend himself to the owner of the place. The man was devoted, at least on the surface – Nezumi had to give him that.

"I swear, Karan, I never agreed to marry her. She chased after me. It was all I could do to get her off my back."

Karan indulged him with a smile, but she remained unmoved on the matter. "What an ordeal. I'm glad it worked out in the end. And…what does this have to do with your printing company?" Rikiga's face, barely more sober than the last time Nezumi had seen it, flushed and started to panic. Nezumi was content to stay back and let the man flounder, but Inukashi had to cut in.

"It's never going to happen, old man," the dog-keeper snorted. "Stop taking advantage of Momma Karan's patience."

As soon as Inukashi spoke, the baker and the businessman looked up from their awkward conversation and saw the man standing behind him. Rikiga shouted in horror, starting to recoil, and Karan clasped a hand over her own mouth. Nezumi had only been acquainted with Shion's mother for a few days, but she recognized him immediately, even after four years. That realization dug into him when she stared at him.

"Nezumi," Karan started, stepping forward. She didn't bother to disguise the tears beginning to sprout, and she smiled uninhibitedly. "You're back? When did you…?"

"Last week," Nezumi admitted, even when he tried to lie. "I've been in West Block." When Karan pulled him into a hug, he lifted his arms and returned the gesture with some trepidation. Karan was too strong for this world; the bakery was running better than ever, and he could tell that she had kept everyone else together through sheer force of will, but it was beginning to wear on her. Her eyes were shadowed, she had gained some weight, and her breath came in tepid sighs. Her hair didn't need dyeing yet – only a few grey strands, nothing terrible – but Nezumi could still feel cracks beneath her surface. He swallowed and hugged her fully. "You look great, Karan."

"Don't get sweet already, Eve," Rikiga grumbled. "Just because you saved the city doesn't mean you get a parade when you come back." Nezumi just smiled at him over Karan's shoulder and, with his hand out of Karan's line of sight, flipped up his middle finger.

"Good to see you, too, old man," Nezumi crooned. "Now, when she said 'printing company', she doesn't mean the same porn mag, right?"

Rikiga bristled. It was too easy, Nezumi thought. "Why, I never—"

"I can call bullshit before you even speak. Just take a break," Nezumi chuckled. When he pulled back to look at Karan, though, his confidence faded. "I…"

"You saw Shion already?" she guessed. His jaw shut, and he nodded. A moment of silence made his lungs tighten. "It…didn't go well?" He shook his head.

"He met Torey," Inukashi sighed, taking Shionn to the counter to pick out a cookie.

"What happened?" Karan demanded. Leave it to her to put her foot down and untangle this mess. He really did love that about her. However, being out of the loop – even if it was self-inflicted – brought up his defenses.

"I don't like his influence on Shion," Nezumi mumbled, picking his words.

Rikiga was the only one who laughed. He quieted down abruptly.

"What influence?" Karan asked, her voice diplomatic again.

"He's so fake."

"Says the actor," Rikiga mumbled.

"He's, um." Nezumi bit his cheek and frowned at the wall to his left, shrinking under the scrutiny. Talking was so much easier when he was playing a role. "I know he's taking advantage of him. Shion couldn't get rid of me fast enough this morning. Torey and I didn't exactly get along, but…"

"Of course you picked a fight," Inukashi chirruped, wearing that smug grin. "Can't blame you, though. I don't like him either."

Rikiga had to butt in again. "That's because you have poor taste. Torey's a respectable young man with a good position, and he was here for Shion the whole time after Eve dumped him."

A sick, aching chill seeped into Nezumi's body. His only options were to attack the old man in front of Shion's mother or to stand quietly and take it, so he sucked in a breath and fixed his eyes on the wall.

Karan squeezed Nezumi's arm before she quietly turned around and smiled at Rikiga. "I'd like to talk to them alone for a few minutes. Would you mind?" If Nezumi had adored this woman before, he worshipped her then. She didn't bat her eyelashes or ask some bullshit favor (Could you go pick up some flour for me?). She just asked him to leave with no decoration.

Rikiga processed that for a couple of seconds, grimaced a smile, and nodded. "Sure. Of course. Just let me know if they give you any trouble, okay?"

"I appreciate your concern." Karan kept up her smile and opened the door for him, and Rikiga hurried out with Inukashi snickering at his back. As soon as the shop door closed, Karan dropped the smile like a weight, showing the raw concern she had been carrying all of her son's life.

"I'm so sorry, Nezumi. I couldn't be happier to have you back. Shion needs you. He's been…withdrawn."

Nezumi already knew that it was his fault. He took a second to swallow that pill, and he put his hands back into his pockets.

"How so? Has he been like that for…a while?"

"Yes, Nezumi. He's been like that since you left," Inukashi grumbled, keeping Shionn's hands out of the cookie display.

Karan didn't deny it. She sighed and took a seat at a small table in the corner. The store was empty but for the four of them, so she was able to take something of a break. When she gestured an invitation, Nezumi sat down across from her.

"He was like this after we moved out of Chronos," Karan barely more than whispered. "He would forget to eat. He wouldn't notice when someone called for him. Whenever he talked, it was about work, or he was muttering your name." She managed a shaky smile. "For a while, I thought he just really wanted a pet rat."

Nezumi shook his head in disbelief. "Karan, how do you not hate me when I did this to your son?"

"I hate the fact that my son is heartbroken. But you're the one who saved him, and whether he's angry at you now or not, you're the most important person in the world to him." Karan's smile turned bittersweet. "And when you left, he didn't understand, but I did. If you can't stay, don't stay."

She was talking about her husband. The nausea came back when Nezumi realized it: he was just a repeat of Shion's shitty father. He gaped for the right words, and his voice came out hoarse.

"I don't want to do this to him anymore."

Karan's eyes filled with fresh tears, and Inukashi had the good sense not to comment.

"Keep that in mind," Karan bade him. She took a deep breath and put on another smile, as genuine as she could make it. "You'll always have a home here. I know you won't decide to stay or go lightly, but remember that you're loved."

Was this what 'unconditional' meant? Nezumi nodded, his mouth dry.

After another moment without eye contact, Karan started again, trying not to look as exhausted as before. "As for Torey… Shion met Torey a couple of weeks after you left. The two of them were the city's youngest to be nominated for the Restructural Committee. Both of them were part of the elite program, and both of them saw the damage that the original No. 6 did. I don't know everything that's been going on between them. Shion barely comes home anymore, and he keeps it short when I call him. He even moved out so he could focus on work. And I'm proud of him, but I don't want that…" She cleared her throat politely. "I don't want Torey to be his only line of support. Torey has been polite, but he's… He feels wrong. I knew people like him when No. 6 was starting out. They were idealistic, passionate, but then they broke."

All they had to go on was bad vibes. Nezumi had been hoping for something really incriminating to show Shion and disgrace that pasty little pretender, but Torey was just a nice kid who rubbed a couple of people the wrong way.

"I came back to help him," Nezumi stated, watching the mid-morning light on the table. "So I'm going to help him." He laughed under his breath and stood up gently. "He's probably got it all under control, and we're just fussing over nothing."

Karan laughed with him, a sad, helpless sound. "Stay for a cravat?" Her smile faltered, and she glanced back to the counter, her eyes glossing over. Nezumi noted the fading in her voice and frowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's…" Karan sucked her lower lip. "I usually make one for Tsukiyo."

.

Nezumi escaped Karan's hospitality after a cravat and some coffee, and at Shion's request, he explored the new city and found his way back to the theater – or, rather, arts center. The building was one of the newer ones, and it was divided between a library, an art museum, and an auditorium. A chunk of rubble from the legendary fallen wall sat fenced-in and decorative on the front lawn of the place, with a brass plaque drilled into its front:

EVE MEMORIAL ARTS CENTER

Built together by the people of former No. 6 and former West Block

To celebrate the fall of the wall that divided us

For the revival of creativity, fine arts, and an appreciation for history in our city

And in remembrance of the hero who brought hope to West Block and gave us one more chance

First Restructural Committee, 2020

The hero of No. 6.

This had to be a joke. If there were ever a clearer indication that someone in power cried themselves to sleep over him, it would have knocked Nezumi on his ass. He could have gone without the reference to Elyurias' "last chance" for them, too. And why "memorial"? He wasn't dead yet. The building as a whole was a sloppy, sentimental threat.

No amount of staring at the engraved words would make them make any more sense. Nezumi wrinkled his nose at the sign and looked up to the glass double-doors, and he took a deep breath before he started up the steps.

The theater was to the right past the main doors, towards the southern corner of the building, and it was easy enough to navigate. The line for auditions was short, crossing outside of the main auditorium, and Nezumi appraised the could-be cast from a distance; they were nervous, excited, too green for a good performance, but it was something. Signs were posted on the wall, advertising the play and the open auditions. No. 6 was still new to the performing arts, so there wasn't any community of veteran actors aside from the leftovers of the West Block plays, but they had a good stage to work with.

"Have you ever read it?" a girl in line asked another, both well-dressed and rosy. Nezumi arched a brow and watched the chatter. He could step into line, he considered, but then people might talk to him.

"I finished it last week. My dad got me a copy from No. 2." The second girl, taller and with darker hair, tucked her arms around herself.

"Ooh, a real copy? I got access to it online. Who are you trying out for?" the first girl asked, smiling wide and playing with the folds in her bright blue skirt.

The second girl laughed at herself. "I really liked Mercutio. I don't know if they'll let a girl play him, though."

"Come on. I'm from outside, and they're letting me try out."

Was this what Shion wanted? The stories they had shared in that room, appreciated again in the new city? Nezumi stayed put against the wall, arms folded. Despite its name, maybe this place wasn't completely awful.

Goosebumps pricked his arms.

"Go for it," a new voice said. A man passing by the line, carrying some souvenir from the art museum, smiled at the Mercutio fan. He was tall, of indeterminate age, with dark hair, a soft face, and a shallow smile. "You have a smart voice and good posture. You'd be a great Mercutio."

The girls smiled back at him, and Nezumi took a silent step away. He hadn't expected this man to stray this far into the city, and whatever he was doing there, it couldn't be innocent. He turned and started away, but after a few steps, a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's you!" the geologist's voice cheered.

Nezumi's response included a startled, ungraceful wheeze and a backward glance. It was all he could do not to kick the man, feeling threatened and impulsive.

"How have you been? It's been so long!" The man grinned at Nezumi and, with a hand on his back, guided him away from the line of people and out the door. Nezumi shrugged his hand away and walked himself out more quickly.

"Not long enough, old man," Nezumi growled back. "Weren't you selling snake oil and sniffing through other people's stuff last time I saw you?"

"Harsh. I've come a long way, though, don't you think?" The geologist only had a few smiles in his repertoire, but each one made Nezumi uneasy. But he wasn't wrong; his face was clean-shaven, his hair had a healthy shine to it, and he was dressed in a suit instead of rags and sandals. Instead of a pathetic old hermit in the wilderness, he was a charismatic, well-to-do psychopath. Much worse. "So, did you reconsider my offer? Because you're a little late."

"I didn't come back for that," Nezumi clipped out.

"Funny. You made it seem like you had nothing in No. 6 to interest you."

"Yeah, well, personal reasons."

"Aren't they?" Another flat, greasy smile. "Speaking of personal, you didn't mention that my son was the star council member of the new city. You recognized the name I was using last time, so I can only assume you knew about him." Nezumi must have stiffened, because "Shion" narrowed his eyes. "You did know about him, didn't you?"

"Yes," Nezumi growled. "I knew about him."

"And you didn't think that was worth mentioning to me before?" The geologist sounded genuinely hurt.

"More like, you're not worth mentioning to him," Nezumi scoffed, and he took a step further away from the man. Even as he started down the art center's steps, the geologist followed beside him. "I didn't realize your master plan involved ogling fledgling actresses in art museums."

"The plan is to enjoy myself," the older Shion sighed. "I wanted to see the art center my son built. I wonder who Eve was... I've heard my wife is still in the city, but I don't think she'd want to see me," he added, laughing softly.

"So sad. No one wants you."

"You're still as charming as last time, huh?"

"Fortunately." Nezumi cast a glare at the man and stopped walking again. "So, are you just enjoying yourself? Did the mining scheme change?"

The geologist's smile reminded Nezumi of a skull. There was no life there, no inflection or depth. Just hollow sockets.

"You opted out of the plan, remember?" the man chuckled. "You don't have the right to ask about it."

"And you don't have the right to be here," Nezumi whispered. The art center courtyard was quiet enough to add a chill to his voice. "You don't have the right to destroy what your son fixed. You don't have the right to be his father. You don't have the right to be anywhere near him."

Despite the quiet excitement and curiosity on his face, the geologist took Nezumi seriously. "You do know him," he murmured. "You certainly don't mince words. Who are you to keep a man from meeting his son? Are you threatening me?"

"Threats can be empty. I'm warning you."

The geologist managed to look offended, but his shoulders shivered. "So I come into this city, read the paper, see my son on the front page, and you're not allowing me to meet him?"

"You came to the city to splash around in everyone else's hard work," Nezumi spat. "I'd rather bury you than put Shion through the displeasure of meeting you." That was hardly any way to talk to someone in public, but Nezumi was still trained on his West Block negotiating tactics: fight or flirt.

The older man's face didn't flinch this time; his eyes and jaw only hardened. "He's a touchy subject for both of us, then?" Nezumi shut up and scowled. "We both left him behind. Neither of us have the right to be here. Yet here we are."

Shion was one giant nerve in the middle of Nezumi's chest. Once the geologist figured that out and reminded him of it, Nezumi shut down and crossed his arms, protecting the nerve and doing his best to be hard to read. At the very least, he should have been trying to learn something about this man, this threat.

"Here we are," Nezumi agreed curtly. "And there's nothing here for you, so I have to wonder why. I can only guess the mining's paying off."

"Should've taken me up on that offer, kid," was all the geologist said before he smiled and turned to walk down the rest of the steps.

.

Shion wasn't home when Nezumi came back to the apartment. Reading through Leaves of Grass was entertaining enough – or it would have been, if Nezumi could have focused on the words. As it was, he couldn't stop tapping his foot and turning over on the couch. If Shion had a meeting at eight, he likely wouldn't be home until after nine or ten.

He would be in Shion's apartment alone for hours. There was only one thing to do.

Nezumi let himself into Shion's bedroom and looked around. He wouldn't put it past Shion to have a diary. He looked for any such thing, tracing his fingers over the paper spines on a bookshelf.

Shion had begun to amass a new library; his bedroom mimicked the underground bunker in that regard, with bookshelves overtaking two walls and creeping up on a third. Nezumi recognized a number of the books from the old room, and he guessed that Shion must have rescued them from the musty old space. The pages were all yellow and smelled sweet, and the print was fading. All of the texture and character and love in the apartment had been saved for the shelves in the bedroom, and the worried ache in Nezumi's chest switched itself out for something sweeter when he saw it.

He didn't find a diary, but he flipped through a third of the books he came across; they were either the old, peeling leather-bound tomes that he knew well, or they were brand new, with inexperienced, uncreased pages and stories that he'd never read before. He pictured Shion sitting at the desk by the bed, calling to the other cities to send in new reading material, and snorted. He slipped a copy of The Divine Comedy back onto the shelf (much too sanctimonious for him) and fell back onto the bed, sighing at the ceiling. When he turned his head toward the nightstand, he smiled; Gulliver's Travels lay there, a piece of paper slipped between the pages as a place marker. When he picked the book up and opened it, the makeshift bookmark fell onto his chest.

It was a photograph. Nezumi arched a brow and picked the photo up. It had been taken in the few days he had spent in Lost Town with Shion and his mother; he and Shion were seated on the stair steps, engrossed in some kind of debate, candid and unaware that they were having their picture taken. Inukashi and Shionn were in the kitchen behind them, with the new parent trying to get something sharp away from the baby. Karan had probably taken the image.

Nezumi decided that he looked weird in pictures, and he grimaced. He spent a moment to wonder if his face really looked like that before he noticed exactly how narrow the stairs were. He and Shion were sitting on the same step, with their shoulders pressed together and their fingers laced between them. He barely remembered the evening or the conversation, but looking at the picture, he remembered that Shion's sweater was just a little scratchy and that his mouth had tasted like cinnamon that night.

He heard a key click in the front door before it opened. Sighing, he sat up and slipped the bookmark back into place, and he left Gulliver's Travels where he had found it before he went to greet his host. When Shion turned to look at him, Nezumi was smiling, his shoulder leaning against the bedroom doorframe.

"Welcome home, sweetie. How was work?"

Shion didn't answer right away. He didn't look angry anymore, at least. Nezumi waited, and Shion dropped into the couch, letting his messenger bag slump to the floor. He swallowed, working through his day behind his teeth, and finally sighed.

Nezumi snorted and shifted his weight off of the wall. "You look like you need a stiff drink. There's still some crappy wine in the fridge."

Shion closed his eyes. "No, thank you."

"Well, how did the big meeting go? You're home earlier than you threatened." Nezumi made his way across the living room to sit with him on the couch. When Shion glanced up towards him, the shadows around his eyes stood out. His lips were dry and bitten from anxiety, and his presence as a whole felt withered. At least his hair couldn't get any whiter. Nezumi sighed and lifted a hand, brushing a strand of pale hair out of Shion's face. Shion leaned away from him and looked back down to his knees, and Nezumi put his hand back down on the couch cushion.

"It was cancelled. They forgot to tell me, apparently," Shion mumbled.

"Wait, they cancelled a meeting without asking you?"

"They had the majority. It didn't even matter if I wasn't there." Shion fiddled with his hair, pushing some of it back behind his ear the way Nezumi would have. "It's been rescheduled for next week. The council decided to focus on clearing up some budget concerns before then."

Nezumi grimaced. "Budget concerns?"

"Nothing," Shion elaborated. "They weren't looking at anything. They were just fussing over numbers that were already straightened out. We talked about a few other plans for the city, a few other reports, but for the most part, they were wasting everyone's time. When I brought up the issue in Mao that you told me about, they waved me off and said if there was a problem, the settlers would let us know."

"Hmm." Sitting back into the couch, Nezumi crossed his ankles. "Sounds like you just had a boring day at work. What's really eating at you? Wasn't Teddy cooperating?"

"Torey was quiet all day. It was weird." Shion sucked on his cheek, and when he looked back up at Nezumi, his face had gone careful and calm. "The mining site you mentioned… I want you to take me there."

Nezumi halted, and then a grin split his face. "What, my soft-skinned city boy wants to go trekking through the nature reserve?"

"You brought it up first. It's a valid concern," Shion stated. "Besides, they won't let me do my job in the office."

His voice and eyes were flat, and Nezumi hated it. He frowned at Shion and finally sat up straight to cross his arms. "So, all it took for you to listen to me was to suspect your new friends of working behind your back? I kind of miss when you were more naïve."

"I wasn't ignoring you, Nezumi. I told you I would look into it." Shion squinted back at him, looking like he was trying to scold him already. "Speaking of looking into things, were you in my room?"

Nezumi managed to look guilty at first, but he smiled and shrugged. "I like it better in there. It feels like a hospital out here."

Shion blinked and glanced around his home, like he was only just noticing how barren it was. He looked, trying to pick out enough comforting details to counter Nezumi's comment, and when he failed, his shoulders sank, disheartened. "It… I guess it does," he sighed. "I thought you might be more comfortable around the books. Just don't keep me up reading. We still have to get up early."

"To go take a walk in the settlement?" Nezumi started to grin, crooked. "Fine, I'll take you, but just don't kick me out again. That was embarrassing."

"Then don't pick fights with my coworkers," Shion snapped, rolling his eyes. "That was embarrassing."

"He just showed up," Nezumi defended. He leaned forward to try and make Shion look him in the eye. "I had to pick a fight, with his smug, stupid little… Don't ask me to like him."

Shion chewed on a retort, but after a moment, he simply sighed. "Can we not fight again today? All day, I just wanted to apologize to you."

That took the bite out of Nezumi's voice. He nodded quietly and tried to shrug, just to look casual. "Yeah, okay." He started to put an arm around Shion, but the smaller man looked so exhausted that he thought better of crowding him. He finally let out a sigh and stood up, taking Shion's hand. "You look like crap. How about you take a shower, and I'll make you something to eat?"

"That sounds good," Shion mumbled, standing with him.

"It'll be a challenge, with all the stuff in your fridge. All I found earlier was a potato. Just a single, leftover baked potato. How do you live?"

Shion started to laugh, and Nezumi started to hope.

"We can pick up groceries tomorrow," Shion mentioned. Nezumi was ready to comment on how much of a housewife that made him sound like, but then Shion added, "And I'm not making you sleep on the couch tonight. I'm sorry about this morning."

Nezumi tried his damnedest to ignore how happy that made him. He had to open and close his mouth a couple of times before he could form a response.

"Shion, if you wanted the couch to yourself, you could have just pushed me off."

And there was that ridiculous face. When Shion bit the inside of his cheek and furrowed his brow up at him, Nezumi just lifted his eyebrows and tried not to smile like he had won something.

"You said so this morning," Shion mumbled, not even glancing away from him. "We're used to sharing a bed. I just thought you'd be more comfortable."

"I understand," Nezumi purred. "If you missed me that much…"

Shion's eyes narrowed by a splinter. "Do you want me to change my mind?"

"No, no." Nezumi laughed and shrugged, turning back to the kitchen. Maybe he could find something to go with the lone potato in the fridge. He could make a modest soup out of it, perhaps. "Just go take your shower. Don't take too long, though, or I'll get lonely." Shion grumbled something at his back, and Nezumi's shoulders shook with quiet laughter.

Shion's shower was quick, and dinner was nostalgically simple. Sleep that night came easier once someone's hand touched the other's, and Nezumi tried not to steal the blankets.