Warning...this is pretty depressing...one of the sadder things I've written, actually. But I hope you enjoy it, regardless of angst

Everything is warm, right now; everything is soft, familiar, and comforting to Sion. He rolls over in bed, his new bed, in his new home, with his mother just a few doors down and Safu alive. In a hospital still, but alive all the same. No.6 is gone, completely demolished in every sense of the word. He feels whole. Despite his mother implying it would be better if he dyed his hair and fixed his skin, Sion refused to. They are his battle scars, nothing to be ashamed of.

At least, that's what the dark-haired boy sleeping next to him insisted.

Nezumi sleeps on his side as usual, one arm slipped under the pillow, and the other looped around Sion's waist. His fingers, long and elegant, but still rough from a life in the slums, brush his bare skin. As they both stir awake, Nezumi trails his fingers along Sion's snake scar, which still around his torso and sneaks onto his face. Long hair, still shining a soft midnight color, falls across his visage. Sion will never tire of waking up to him and the new expression he wears while sleeping. It's relaxed and peaceful; his brow lies smooth and his lips curl into a small smile. When the silvery eyes blink open, the smile broadens to encompass the rest of his face.

"Good morning," Sion whispers as Nezumi moves his hand from his waist to entwine with his own. Nezumi says nothing, but leans in and presses a kiss to Sion's forehead.

"Good morning."

It's been a week since the plan succeeded. No.5 is his new home—no, their new home, for he never intends to leave Nezumi's side again. He shifts in bed to curl up closer to Nezumi, his head falling into the smooth crook of that pale, elegant neck. Another kiss finds its way to the top of his head.

"What's the plan for today?" Nezumi asks, not making any movement to leave the bed. Sion shrugs against him, looking up into those beautiful silvery eyes, framed with the long lashes he'd once admired only from afar.

"Just normal things. Chores, shopping for Mom, you know, the usual. Do you want to stay here or come with me?" he asks. Nezumi smirks, the wickedly sexual smile sending shivers down Sion's spine.

"What, no plotting to take down another city? No scrounging for food or bartering for clothes?"

"Those days are behind us, for good," Sion promises, earnest as he presses a kiss to Nezumi's cheek. The dark-haired boy pretends to pout, but the suppressed laughter makes it fairly unbelievable. "Aren't you supposed to be a good actress?" he teases, laughing at the expression on his lover's face.

"I am a good actress!" Nezumi protests, mock-horror on his face, "But I'm just insulted that you want to leave everything about those days behind us. After all, we did have some fun nights…" and then the wicked smile returns as he pulls Sion close to him in a deep kiss, his back arching as he presses his bare chest to Sion's, their legs tangling together as the white-haired boy rolls on top of him.

"I'd never want to leave those behind," Sion giggles, eagerly returning Nezumi's passionate embrace.

After Sion insists that it's too early for them to have sex, the two of them finally roll out of bed and get dressed. He still finds it odd, seeing Nezumi in fresh clothes, his scarf and jacket packed away for when winter comes. The ponytail will always be there, he knows, a blush working its way over his face when he remembers just what Nezumi likes him to do to his hair when they make love. Pull it harder.

He pulls on a shirt and finds that Nezumi is right at his side; hand in his as they walk out of the room together. The green grass outside of their house appears lighted from within by the pale sunlight. Mom's still asleep, I guess, Sion supposes as they enter the empty kitchen.

"We don't really have time for a fancy breakfast," he apologizes, throwing the pantry open and pulling out some sweet cereal, "Could you grab me—" but Nezumi already has the bowls, spoons, and milk in his hands, and he places them on the counter top.

They stand while eating, too busy to sit down at their small dining table. Finishing their food quickly, they load the empty dishwasher and, hip bumping against hip, they leave the house together to start the day.

If No.6 was a utopia, then No.5 is heaven. Sure, Sion thinks as he and Nezumi stroll along the street on the way to the supermarket, watching children of many different races play in the streets, It isn't as fancy as No.6, or as clean, or anything. But…he takes in the sight of the cute stores along their path, each of them boasting unique décor, he realizes how nobody watches him and Nezumi walk down the street, It's leaps and bounds better.

As they pass by a flower shop, Nezumi stops in his tracks and stares at Sion.

"Tomorrow is your birthday," he says, pulling his hand away to smack against his forehead, "I forgot! Sion, wait here." He ducks into the florist shop, leaving a confused Sion standing awkwardly on the sidewalk. Minutes later, he returns with a single yellow blossom in his hand, an almost wistful smile on his face. Nezumi leans in and tucks the flower behind Sion's ear, who blushes and crosses his arms.

"I'm not a woman, Nezumi!" he protests. Nezumi laughs and pulls him into a tight embrace.

"Yes, I know, you're far more beautiful." He silences Sion's protests with a kiss, picking him up off the ground and murmuring, "I'm so glad to have known you."

Sion doesn't know how, but having those words repeated to him makes him want to cry.

He leaves the flower in his hair as they continue their walk to the supermarket. They load a basket with food, and Sion tries not to notice just how overwhelmed Nezumi still seems by the bounty of food No.5 has to offer. Sometimes he forgets that, while he lived in comfort for most of his life, Nezumi hasn't had any kind of stability since early childhood.

"Where to next?" Nezumi asks, rubbing his thumb over a shiny apple that Sion bought for him before taking a large, indulgent bite. Sion ponders before he makes his decision, looking down at the small bag of cookies in their food basket.

"I think we should visit Safu. I haven't been in a few days, and I want to make sure that No.5 is taking good care of her."

He doesn't notice how the light disappears from Nezumi's face as he hails a taxi to take them to the hospital.

Safu is more coherent and less weepy than the last time he visited. Her hair, once short and bobbed, now falls around her shoulder blades, framing a much thinner face. A fresh wave of guilt runs through him as he realizes that if it hadn't been for him, she'd still look and act like herself. He sits next to her bed, Nezumi choosing to stand instead, and she nibbles on the cookies. She would've devoured them a few years ago, he thinks, struggling to keep the smile on his face.

"Are they treating you well?"he asks. Safu startles, looking up at him with her wide brown eyes. She nods, a much more Safu-like grin breaking out on her face.

"Yes, they're all exceptionally polite here. The nurses show much empathy and compassion. Quite unlike a No.6 hospital, from what I've observed." She rattles on about psychology and body language on the staff, and Sion can't help but to smile at her, glad she's regaining a sense of herself. He feels confused when she suddenly stops, a saddened expression crossing her face.

"How are you coping, Sion?" she asks, reaching out to touch his arm in a friendly, affectionate gesture. "Your body language seems relaxed, but your face is a different story. Although I am glad to see that you've put weight on, you seemed roughly nine pounds underweight when I saw you last." Her question confuses him, but he still smiles, eager to share just how wonderful his life's become.

"Life is a wonderful thing, Safu. Mom got a job at a bakery close to our house, I'll start school here in the fall, and Nezumi and I are happier than ever. Everything is so wonderful, and now that you're getting better we can become classmates again! Maybe Nezumi will join us too, won't you Nezumi?" he turns to his boyfriend with an exuberant smile on his face before facing Safu once more. "Aren't you happy, Safu?" he asks. Her face falls and her eyes crinkle as she screws them up, tears leaking from them. Horrorstruck, Sion grabs a tissue from her bedside table and wipes her eyes like he would a child. "Safu, Safu, don't cry, don't cry please, what is there to cry about?" he asks. She gulps, taking shuddering breaths as she wipes her nose on her sleeve.

"...Nothing is wrong," she whispers, staring at her knobby knees through the thin hospital blanket, "I promise. I...I'm just really happy, Sion. The overemotional side of me is an effect of the heavy medication the hospital has been administrating for me. I think I will ask them to cut back on the dosage." She gives him an apologetic smile, her prettiness marred by bloodshot brown eyes. "Another side effect of the medicine is excessive sleepiness. I'm sorry, Sion, but I'm very tired. Do you think you could possibly come back later?" Confused, he nods, standing up and kissing her forehead like he would a sister before leaving with Nezumi.

"She acted strange, don't you think?" he asks, looking at Nezumi's grave face, "And she didn't even say hello to you. I wonder if that's because of her medicine; maybe she didn't notice you." Nezumi says nothing, but turns around and kisses him.

"I wouldn't think too much of it, Sion."

They return home to his mother in the kitchen, practicing her recipes. Cherry cake sits on the counter, the aroma making Sion's mouth water. She turns to him, a weak smile on her face as she extends her arms for a hug.

"Thank you for getting my groceries, Sion," she says, beginning to put them away. Sion helps her as Nezumi sits at the table, tapping his foot against the ground.

"No problem at all, Mom," he says, waving his hand nonchalantly before cutting himself and Nezumi two slices of cake. He doesn't notice how her face falls when he gives one slice to Nezumi, who happily digs into the food. "I visited Safu today, by the way. She's doing loads better, although the medicine they've given her has definitely increased her emotional state. Do you want to go with Nezumi and I next time, Mom?" His mother bites her lip and nods.

"Of course, I'd love to, Sion. You know Safu is like a daughter to me. Oh, by the way, a young, tan girl left this note with me while you were out. She said something about how she had some of your things from the slums." Inukashi, Sion thinks as he accepts the note, recognizing her borderline illiterate scrawl. An address, one he shouldn't have recognized but did, stood out against the pale paper in jet black ink. I wonder what I could've left behind there.

"I guess I ought to go see her. Promise, I'll be back before dinner. Save some food for Nezumi and I, okay?" he asks, cheerily, wondering why his mother doesn't seem her normal, sweet and exuberant self. She nods, turning back to her recipes as Nezumi stands from the table. His brushes his bangs out of his eyes, smiling at Sion.

"Ah, Inukashi, I haven't seen her irritating face in ages," he laughs, straightening his shirt, "...I do hope Rikiga and her are doing well, though, despite how annoying they are." Sion feels a rush of affection for Nezumi at his soft, caring words, taking it as a sign that he really has changed since those slum days. Glancing back down at the paper, he registers that the address isn't far from their home. "I doubt she wants to see me," Nezumi admits.

"I'm sure she wants to see you," Sion assures him, "Do you know if we left anything behind?" he asks, struggling to remember the possessions they had in their old home. Nezumi shakes his head, shrugging as he wraps his arm around Sion's shoulder and squeezes it.

"Haven't a clue." Sion nods, kisses Nezumi on the cheek, and walks out the door.

A graveyard? Sion thinks, his heart skipping a beat as they arrive at the forlorn iron gates. Nezumi's arm stiffens and his face becomes stoic and serious, more similar to the Nezumi he first met than the one he'd woken up with today. Sion says nothing, but pushes the gate, which swings open with a soft creaking noise. He hesitates, but starts walking into the lot, which still retains an air of creepiness, even on a spring day. It's not a big graveyard, one meant for a small community, and he can see a slight figure kneeling off on the other side. Wondering if he should call her name, Sion thinks the better of it, and just walks silently through the grass, weaving around headstones. He doesn't want to see the names. There's been enough death in his life lately.

Inkuashi doesn't hear him coming, that much is obvious. She kneels in front of a headstone, obscuring its name as her head dips down. Sion sees that she holds a bouquet of flowers, marigolds and white orchids tied with a black ribbon. I wonder if she stole them or bought them. Nezumi's stealthiness must've been rubbing off on him, for he walks up to just four feet behind her and she still doesn't notice. Then, Sion notices that her body shakes, and small sobs escape her throat.

"You idiot." His hear jumps, and he thinks she's talking to him before he realizes that Inukashi speaks only to the gravestone. "I...I hate you. I really, really fucking hate you. You annoyed me all the time. You pissed my dogs off. But you saved my life and that is the worst thing you could've possibly done." Who on earth is she speaking to? "You brought down that shithole of a city, but why did you have to go and die? Why did you have to be a martyr for him? Why...why did you make me cry?" she sniffles once again, dropping the flowers so she can wipe at her eyes, "That's pretty fucking unforgivable. I snatched these flowers out of some rich lady's garden for you. Don't think for a second that I'd go to a nice florist for your sake, rat." Rat? His stomach drops, and when he advances he steps on a twig, making her jump and screech in her spot.

"Inkuashi! It's me, I got your note!" he shouts, cowering from her attack. She backs down, her long, wavy brown hair tied up and blowing sideways in the light breeze. Her eyes are red from crying, her nose dripping snot and her lips bitten.

"Sion, you did come...why is there a flower in your hair?" she asks, tilting her head to study the primrose. Sion smiles at Nezumi, despite himself, and plucks it from his white hair to show her how beautiful the blossom is.

"Nezumi bought it for me. Isn't it beautiful, Inukashi? It's a primrose." She claps her hand over her mouth and stares at him, her brows knitting together as tears drip from her eyes once more against her will. Nezumi stares at the grass.

"Sion...Nezumi couldn't have bought it for you. He couldn't," she insists, gathering up her flowers and standing up on wobbly, thin legs. "He couldn't. He's not here." Sion raises an eyebrow, glancing from Nezumi to Inkuashi before pointing at his boyfriend.

"Ah, Inukashi, he's right here. Standing next to me. He bought me the flower this morning while we were out running errands for my mother." She continues to shake her head back and forth, keeping a death grip on the flowers. Nezumi steps forward, placing a hand on her hair and looking down at the flowers with a half-amused, half-saddened expression for me.

"Marigolds and white orchids, eh, Inukashi?" he chuckles, "Pain, grief, and missing a lost one? I didn't know you knew that old, romantic language, you sly dog." To Sion's surprise, he wraps his arms around the skinny, androgynous girl and hugs her. She doesn't seem to notice though; for Inukashi can only hold the flowers and bitterly cry.

"Why aren't you punching Nezumi?" Sion asks, still confused as to why Inukashi isn't throwing attacking him. She wipes her eyes and stares at him over his boyfriend's shoulder, still oblivious to the embrace. Nezumi lets her go and steps back next to Sion, placing a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Because isn't here for me to punch, Sion! Nezumi is dead. He died in that final battle against No.6, don't you remember?" she screams, throwing the flowers down behind her, "You were there! You brought the fuckhole city down and I watched you gather that bastard in your arms and you cried over him!" She stomps towards him, angry tears flowing freely now as she thrusts a package into Sion's chest. He opens it.

Nezumi's sweater. No. He brought the sweater with him to the house. Inukashi can't have it. It's impossible.

"YOU'RE LYING!" he screams, throwing the sweater back at Inukashi, who stumbles back, wearing a hurt expression before it changes into rage.

"Do you think I'd lie about this! Do you think that little of me, you stupid, stupid boy?" she shrieks, striking Sion's chest with punches much weaker than normal before she falls back to the ground, giving Sion a clear look at the headstone.

Nezumi

Real Name Unknown

He Brought Down No.6

Saving So Many

2000-2017

No.

No.

No.

No.

He is not reading that headstone.

Those are not words.

Sion cannot be reading them properly.

It makes no sense.

Because...Nezumi is here. Nezumi is next to him. Nezumi's hand is on his shoulder, his lips touched his today, they've been sleeping in the same bed and he has always and will always wake up to his beautiful face.

He is not dead.

Except...

"I'm sorry," Nezumi whispers, both to him and to Inukashi, "I am sorry that I failed you, my favorite idiot dogkeeper and you, Sion." He looks into Sion's eyes, silver into red, and Sion can feel his facial muscles contorting as he struggles to stay composed.

"Impossible," he whispers, "You're here. You've been here. You will always be here, Nezumi..." his voice cracks, and he feels tears welling up in his eyes, "You haven't left me, have you?" Nezumi leans into him and plucks the flower from his hand, tucking it back into his hair.

"Primrose, Sion, is also included in flower language," he whispers, "Oh, Sion..." the white-haired boy crumples in a heap next to Inukashi, his heart pounding and body shaking as he struggles with the words on the headstone. 2000-2017, 2000-2017, no, no, no, no.

"You said you didn't want me to change!" Sion screams up, glaring at Nezumi with newfound anger, "You said you wanted me to stay the same, for you! And only for you, Nezumi, Nezumi, Nezumi." He repeats the name as though he's chanting a prayer, clutching at his hair and taking care not to hurt the primrose. "Why did you leave me? How could you leave me?"

"I haven't left you," Nezumi insists, crouching down next to Sion and Inukashi, who lies there silent, yanking grass stems from the ground in anger, "I will never leave you, Sion. I will always be with you. Because you have that primrose..." he reaches up to touch the soft petals in Sion's hair, "My eternal love."

"But you're dead," he gulps, feeling stupid as he shakes for stating the obvious.

"Yes. I am. I died for you. I gave my life to save yours, Sion, and I'm begging you not to waste it." Sion refuses to look at him, staring at the green of the grass, the blue of the sky. Everything seems too alive, all of a sudden, because Nezumi is dead. Nezumi cannot be dead. My life is a waste without you in it, he thinks, but doesn't say. Nezumi sits on the ground, pulling Sion's head into his lap.

"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride," he says, speaking the poetry to Sion like they were back in their old home, on that ratty sofa, with Sion leaning against him and Nezumi speaking those beautiful words to put him to sleep. "So I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep."

Sion feels tears drip onto his face. Nezumi is crying. But Nezumi doesn't cry over people. He just doesn't.

"You said never to shed tears over another human," Sion reminds him, reaching up to touch Nezumi's pale cheek.

"Sion, oh Sion, you are worth all my tears..." he whispers, stroking back the soft white hair as he leans down to press one final kiss to Sion's soft lips, "I will never completely leave you."

Then he begins to fade. Sion wishes to scream, to try grasping onto the shadow of Nezumi's existence that was just there, moments ago, propping his head up on a warm knee. But he can't. It's futile.

Nezumi is gone. Inukashi may be next to him on the ground, still crying quietly, but he is alone.

The primrose gently falls to the ground, and he starts to sob.

Angst all around. Please read and review while I go pray that nothing like this will happen in the show.

The poem Nezumi whispered is Love Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda, my all time favorite poet.