A No. 6 fic.
First published August 2019, for geckoholic.
Nezumi x Shion, 1099 words.
There was no way the calf would live.
The family Nezumi was staying with had been nervous about the upcoming birth – apparently there had been a number of stillbirths this season; calves that hadn’t lived long enough to stand up. This was clearly one of those – born misshapen, hardly responding to the nuzzles of its mother.
The same woman who had birthed the calf had brought a knife; Nezumi saw the look in her eyes.
‘Wait,’ he said.
‘Don’t get sentimental, kid,’ she said, as he knelt down beside the calf. He was cautious of the mother, but she only watched, with deep solemn eyes.
‘It’s not sentiment,’ Nezumi said, under his breath. And then he began to sing.
One of the family began a protest, and cut themselves off. The mother cow kept watching him, and she seemed as if she were listening too. Like she knew what he intended.
He felt it when the calf died, but he kept the song going a little longer.
Afterwards, the barn was silent. Nezumi could hear the wind outside, could hear when the cow shifted her weight.
‘Thank you.’ It was the woman with the knife who spoke.
The moment broke, and Nezumi stood up, dusted off his ass. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be more use.’
‘That’s the fifth one,’ the woman said, her voice flat. ‘I just don’t know why ...’
She wasn’t asking Nezumi, and he could never have given her an answer. Because life was shit, as far as he knew. But it was the kind of thing Shion would have wondered, if he were here. The kind of thing Shion would have sought an answer for.
It wasn’t the first time, since Nezumi had left, that he’d felt Shion’s absence.
Nezumi didn’t have to sleep alone, but he chose to. His heart wouldn’t have been in it – sharing company, sharing human warmth. He was tired of pretending he didn’t miss Shion. He needed Shion to make the world a little brighter; to see possibilities and ask questions. What could Nezumi offer anyone but a momentary solace? That was fine if you didn’t expect any more.
But Shion did. And he’d made Nezumi expect more too.
He’d bring Shion here, Nezumi thought. Not just to help these people, but for his own sake. He’d pretended he could give Shion up. But Nezumi’s world was better with him in it.
‘The calves are being born wrong?’
‘If they’re even born alive,’ Nezumi said. He knew he didn’t have the right words, the ones Shion had been taught, but Shion looked thoughtful.
‘It could be a disease the cows had while the calves were in utero.’ Shion must have seen Nezumi’s blank face, but he kept on talking. ‘Sometimes a disease seems mild, but it could stop the calves developing properly. Or it could be something in the environment … I’d have to talk to them to know.’ He sounded almost brusque. He hadn’t touched Nezumi, since Nezumi arrived back.
‘Do you want to?’ Nezumi asked.
Shion blinked too fast. ‘Do you want me to help them?’
Nezumi looked away, but Shion leaned forward, keeping his face in Nezumi’s vision. ‘I thought I was the one who had to remain,’ he said, his voice light.
Nezumi’s lip quirked. ‘I made that up,’ he admitted. A rhetorical device, to get Shion to do what he wanted.
Shion smiled. Nezumi couldn’t tell if the smile was a little sad, or if it was just that Nezumi felt a little sad. He shouldn’t feel sad.
‘I’ll go back with you if you want,’ Shion said. ‘They can get by without me here for a little while.’
Nezumi wanted to argue. Even though he’d come back for this reason, he still wanted to argue.
‘Good,’ he said, instead.
And Shion’s smile looked a little brighter.
Shion inspected the cows, and he inspected the buildings, the pastures. He pulled out clumps of grass, and he spoke to the family at length, while Nezumi was forced to keep the children entertained.
Afterwards, Shion came to find Nezumi, but it wasn’t till after a game of hide and seek that he could give an explanation. The children had been called to help with dinner, and Shion came and crouched beside Nezumi.
‘They were being poisoned,’ he said. ‘Not deliberately. There are more plants growing now so … some things the adult cows can eat and be fine, but if it’s when they’re pregnant ...’
‘Did I ask for the details?’ Nezumi said. He regretted his tone when Shion’s mouth snapped shut.
‘You brought me here,’ Shion said. ‘I thought you’d want to know the answer.’ There was an edge to his voice that made Nezumi feel nervous. ‘Isn’t that why you brought me here? To solve a mystery?’
‘It’s not the answer that I wanted,’ Nezumi said. The rest of his words caught in his throat, caught against the expression in Shion’s eyes. There was a hesitance in them, just as there was a hesitance in Nezumi.
He couldn’t tell Shion that he’d missed him. That was the sort of sentiment Shion might express, but Nezumi would never admit to.
‘I couldn’t have brought you with me before,’ Nezumi said.
‘Okay.’
‘But I shouldn’t have made you stay. That’s … there’s more to the world than No. 6.’
‘... you’re only seeing that now?’
‘Shut up,’ Nezumi said. He shoved Shion in the shoulder, and Shion laughed.
‘I was waiting for you to come back,’ he said. ‘The world’s not the same when you’re not there. I’m always waiting for the moment when I’ll see you again. I think it was the same before, I just didn’t realise it.’
Shion was sentimental. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
‘I’m not going to tell you what to do any more,’ Nezumi said.
Shion raised his eyebrows.
‘Whether you go back or not.’ Nezumi looked away. ‘That’s up to you.’
Shion launched himself at Nezumi then, wrapping his arms around him and knocking him backwards. He was laughing.
‘You don’t need to get all excited,’ Nezumi said. But he held Shion in turn, breathing in the smell of his skin and hair, the warmth that he’d missed.
‘I want to come with you,’ Shion said. ‘Maybe I don’t want to stay away forever, but I want to come with you.’
Nezumi held Shion’s weight, which was no burden at all. ‘Okay,’ he said. Maybe it was okay for the two of them to be together like this, for a while. Not just for a moment.
And Nezumi wanted Shion to come too.