Disclaimer: I don't own crappola.

Author's Note: I finally made it! I made a timeline of Nezumi's past, and now I have a proper plot. Don't know what Shion will be up to, but I'll make sure he unintentionally helps Nezumi out on their journeys. I already have something in mind for when they meet up again, but that won't be for a while. Mwahahaha!

Warning: later on there will be some ShionxNezumi, but yeah that is cannon.

The Phantom of Nezumi's Past Ch. 3: Nightmares of Fire – by YourGreatestDream

Flash Back:

"Honey, have you seen our son? Where did that child run off to now?" A woman chastised outside her cottage. Her long, black hair ran down her back to the end of her shoulder blades. The color of her eyes was a stormy silver. She carried a wicker basket of clothes, as well as a lecturing tone.

A man walked out of the front door, to face her. His dark brown hair was short and choppy, and his eyes were a deep green like the pine trees, with small variations within its gaze, like the color that results from the rays of sun setting upon the branches of an oak. He reached his right hand up to scratch his stubbly beard.

"Silvia, he's six years old! Let him run around and explore the world." The man said.

"You're his father! Shouldn't you be more concerned about his well-being?" Silvia agonized, picking the clothespins down from the clothes line, and gathering the dry clothes from were they had hung. She put down the basket and began to fold the shirts.

"That's your job, and you're doing it well." The man stated, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Silvia visibly let out a strained breath. "Rowan, our son is becoming more and more like you as the days pass."

Rowan smiled. He looked out at the tall, emerald grass in which he had seen his son Nezumi run off into after stealing a piece of Silvia's home-baked apple pie. These days don't last forever. Rowan thought. Someday our boy will grow up, and we'll be reminding him of the times when he used to steal pies from the kitchen windowsill. He was determined to enjoy this time with his son.

They both looked up then, at the direction of a scream.

The small, black haired boy munched on the mesh of apple pie in his right hand, surveying the sunset from his favorite spot in the forest. His secret base was a tall tree that only he could climb. His friends all tried to best him at climbing on this tree, but they never could. He would simply look down at them, hanging by the crook of his legs from a tall branch, and stick out his tongue. This is where he always went when he wanted time for himself.

As well as time for pies.

The boy licked his lips. He sat with his back to the trunk, the lower half of his legs dangling from the dib in the bark in which he had hollowed out. The sun is very pretty today. More red than usual.

He felt like a song. He'd been happy all day, and it was the right time of day for it. His parents loved it when he sang, and although he disliked singing in from of people he let out his voice when he was alone. Just like now.

He opened his mouth and let the air out from his tiny lungs. He took a deep breath and then sang a song he had learned from eavesdropping on the cavern with his friends. It was an up-beat little jest of a song, and made the people who heard it want to dance.

"Where the trees meet the waters and the dew drops sweat!

Where the drinks there are sweeter than a hornet's nest!

That's where you'll find the lady you won't forget!

The one to make you settle down, saying you're the best!

"Only her is what you want, the shine that lights her hair!

She'll be yours for the night, once you're wallet's bare-"

He stopped and looked at the creature sitting on the branch next to him. It blinked it's tiny red eyes, and rubbed its left ear with it's small pink claws. A rat. A white rat.

"How did you get up here?" The boy asked, astounded.

It simply looked at him and cocked its head. It turned its head towards the village and then turned and ran in the opposite direction. Taking a closer look, the boy spotted a bright glow in the direction of the forest village. Was there a festival that no one told him about? Who's idea was it to leave him out of the loop like this? Was it Itsuki? That brat! He must have told them all not to tell him about it so that they could all go to the festivities without him.

Like that was going to happen. The boy smirked, inwardly planning how to get back at Itsuki.

The boy descended from the tree.

In the bushes aside of the tree, a spectral, dreaming Nezumi stood, his eyes panicking. He reached his hand out to the running kid, trying to warn him not to go, but nothing came out. He couldn't speak, scream, or even whisper. He watched in torment as the kid ran across the field of tall grass, continuing his nightmare even though he knew how it would end. Countless times Nezumi had relived this memory through nightmares. Each and every time he tried to stop it and failed. He watched painfully as the little boy recognized the fire and his village's screams. His friend Itsuki was beheaded in front of him, and men in black suits and gas masks flooded the forest, spreading toxic gas and flames on every house, every tree, and every one.

The little boy hid among the tall grass shivering as the scary men all passed by him. The boy watched as his parents were mowed down with street sweeper machine guns. His eyes shocked, he felt the blood leave his face cold as he stared at the fallen, bloody bodies of his parents. Their eyes open and unseeing, and limbs cast aimlessly upon the smoking earth.

Death. All he could see was death. All he could hear was their screams of pain as they exited this world. Little flashes of hope were snuffed out as the teachers made the children run down the pathway in the back, only to find soldiers waiting for them.

From within, a fear sparked bright in the boy's heart. He wasn't going to die. He walked out slowly back the way he had came, unnoticed by the scary men. Turning around he started running faster than his life depended on. Nezumi, in his dreaming state, watched as two men followed suite, recognizing the sound of a fleeing child.

The boy, knowing the forest better that they did, ran to his friend's fort twenty feet away. It was specifically built so no adult could enter. He slipped into a hole in a tree's roots that was too small for anyone older than six. It lead to a clearing that was barred from other entries except for an escape exit at the far end. Standing up, the boy could hear the men outside uttering mocking shouts, and filling the fort with gas. Covering his face, the boy walked quietly to the other end. He didn't want the men to know he would be leaving this fort. He coughed loudly for emphasis, letting the men outside believe they had him by the ropes.

Just as they lit the fort on fire, the boy slipped out through the tree roots on the other side. The roots caught fire instantly, and too late did he escape its touch. Fire caked his back, licking the skin and eating his shirt before he could roll on the ground to snuff it out. The pain brought tears to his eyes, and despite his tries to choke it down, he cried out in pain. Looking back at the fire reaching up to the high skies, engulfing all of the fun times he had spend with friends he now knew were dead, the boy let out all his pent-up anger out in a loud, resounding cry.

Nezumi didn't watch as the men walked away satisfied, believing they had killed the boy. He walked up to the boy, and took in the sight of the tear streaked face, tattered and burnt clothes, and eyes stinging from the smoke of the fire behind him. The boy stood up, and walked. His silver eyes, though burning and teary from his narrow escape, had that same glare of death as Shion had when he killed a man in cold blood.

Nezumi awoke abruptly, inhaling sharply as he gathered his wits. Looking at the setting sun, Nezumi guessed that he had been asleep for only one hour. Noboru Nori had yet to leave from the tavern in which he entered four hours ago, and Nezumi's body was starting to become stiff from the waiting. He was standing on the rooftop of a cement structure, a good place to observe the entrance of the tavern below without being seen. Earlier, he had scoped through the windows of the tavern's second floor for any signs of the girl, but had been sorely disappointed. She wasn't there.

Suddenly, Nezumi heard a crash as a fight broke out from the tavern. An eyebrow rose on his forehead as he looked down in amusement. After the storm inside settled down, Noboru exited out the front door, his body guards following closely behind. Some of them had smatterings of blood on their black coats, from bashing other fighters till they dropped…and then some.

Nezumi quietly got up. He winced at his sore muscles as they complained at the sudden movement. Ignoring it, he followed the scarred man from the rooftops, careful not to let his shadow be seen as he jumped from one to the other.

Eventually they reached a wide, one story building. They approached it from the back, and two men guarding recognized them immediately and opened the door. Nori sauntered through, and the doors closed behind his guards.

Unbeknownst to them, the guards both fell to the ground without a sound, as an intruder slipped in behind them, taking fast to the shadows.

Shion rubbed his head from the sore wound he received from the men before. In his search for Nezumi, the rat had stopped at a wall near a tavern, and had ran around in circles frantically. Deciding to look around at places nearby, Shion had entered the tavern. After a few minutes had dropped by, he had watched a scary man come down from upstairs and demand a drink from the barkeep, accompanied by numerous cronies. A waitress had been talking with Shion about working overtime for enough money to feed her sick mother when the men had asked for her services.

After the word 'services' took up a different meaning to them, Shion had got a little pissed. Not taking the time to wonder why no one else was standing up to the men, he had politely asked them to let her be. From then on, it was as if he had opened Pandora's Box and pulled out a whole lot of hurt into the world. Especially on him. Luckily, the girl had gotten away without any injuries from the conflict, and soon afterwards had offered for Shion to stay at their inn upstairs for the night in return for his saving her from them.

Shion stopped rubbing his head and huffed. Since when was he ever the hero? Nezumi was the master rescuer. All Shion was good for was getting himself beat up, and receiving sympathy from the damsel in distress. He rolled over on top of the white covers of the bed from lying on his back to lying on his front with his face buried in a pillow. This hero thing sucked.

It was then that he noticed Hamlet the rat scratching at a brick in the wall to his right. Hamlet frantically shuffled his claws against the hard brick and the mortar surrounding it.

"What did you find, Hamlet?" Shion went over and took his one knife out of his pocket. He flipped the pocket knife open and began scratching at the soft mortar. Surprisingly, the crusty white flakes gave way easily. Shion went at it with a renewed purpose. Someone must have placed something behind the brick, something valuable and important.

Shion let out a breath as the brick loosened. He got down on his knees and grabbed around the edges with his fingers. Moving the brick back and forth sideways, Shion got the brick free of the wall, leaving an open space inside where it had been, as well as something beyond that.

Shion reached in and grabbed what felt like plastic. He pulled it out and took a few seconds wondering what it was. After it clicked he jumped back, dropping the bag. What looked like a plastic sandwich bag held inside it a white package with unreadable labels printed on it, but Shion knew what he had felt shaking in that package.

Drugs in the form of pills. He had found an illegal drug exchange location.

What is this place? Shion looked at the drugs on the ground, and stared out the window at the surrounding rooftops in a silent request. Nezumi, what is this place? Wherever you are, please be safe!