Vol 6 Chapter 3.2 (1/2)
This is a continuation of PART A.
”Nezumi!” Nezumi collapsed into his outstretched arms. s.h.i.+on felt the heat and weight of his body. A low groan trickled through Nezumi's fingers. It's the same. It's the same as last time.
They had been talking about parasite wasps in their bas.e.m.e.nt dwelling. It was just when their conversation had moved from emergent viruses to the mystery behind the parasite wasps. Nezumi had suddenly collapsed.
They had been drinking hot water. s.h.i.+on remembered how Nezumi's cup had slid out of his hand and bounced on a stack of books before rolling across the floor.
”Nezumi―relax. Can you hear me?” s.h.i.+on knelt down, supporting the boy's body with his arms. If it was the same as last time, then there was no need to panic. Nezumi had recovered just fine last time. If this time was the same...
”Ow!” A set of fingers dug fiercely into s.h.i.+on's arm. Nezumi gasped, his chest rising and falling. The tremor of his fingertips agitated s.h.i.+on's worry even more.
”Water,” s.h.i.+on muttered, glancing all around. No one moved. ”Please, give me water. Anyone.”
”Will he die?” a voice asked from behind. It was flat and cold. It belonged to Sasori, the sand-coloured man. He had drawn right up behind them without s.h.i.+on noticing.
”Will he die? Then there is no need to bring water.” Contempt wafted into Sasori's tone. ”There is no need to give anything to the dying. Furthermore, he is one who has once left. No need. At all.”
s.h.i.+on turned around. He looked up at the man who had concluded the discussion with such terse words. No need.
”Bring it,” s.h.i.+on commanded. As far as he could remember, he had never given an order to someone in such an oppressive manner. But the words didn't feel strange leaving his mouth.
”Bring water to me. Quickly.”
Sasori s.h.i.+fted uneasily. The rims of his widened eyes twitched. A single bead of sweat rolled down from a corner of his eye.
”Here.” A wooden bowl was handed to him. It was about half-full with water. A small, thin child was holding it out as if it were an offering. ”Mother told me to―take this.”
”Thank you.” s.h.i.+on accepted the bowl from him. The child spun around, and trotted away into the darkness.
Cheep-cheep.
A small mouse scurried up onto s.h.i.+on's shoulder. It stared at s.h.i.+on's hands, twitching its nose.
”Nezumi... drink this.” Supporting Nezumi's body with one arm, s.h.i.+on slowly tipped the water into his mouth. Nezumi's throat contracted. He took a gulp.
”Nezumi, can you hear me?”
His eyelids lifted, and a pair of grey eyes peeked from underneath. s.h.i.+on thought they were beautiful. They were the colour of the sky at the coming of morning. They absorbed light, yet released it softly at the same time.
They were beautiful like the dawning sky.
A lightening sky at morning conjoined somewhere with the hope of life. It was a glow that lauded people who had resolved to live, or at least try to live, through today. That was why it was beautiful.
I've gotten so much hope from the beauty of these eyes.
s.h.i.+on clicked his tongue at himself. Idiot, now's not the time to be admiring him.
”―s.h.i.+on.”
”Are you awake? Drink the water slowly―there―all of it. Then take a deep breath.”
Nezumi obediently did as he was told. He drained the water, took a deep breath, and exhaled.
”You alright?”
”Somewhat.”
”Does you head hurt? Any nausea, or palpitation―”
”Ten.”
”Huh?”
”Three plus seven is ten. And since I'm at it already, twenty-one.”
”Oh... three times seven.” So Nezumi had remembered the questions s.h.i.+on had asked when he'd woken up last time. s.h.i.+on stifled a chuckle. Yes, reality was brutal and cruel. The past few hours had been filled with human despair, death, and screams. It was dyed through with the colour of terror, futility, and intense regret. But there had also been many heartwarming moments, moments where his pulse had quickened and his spirits had soared. Memories with Nezumi were always like that. They always brought excitement and warmth to his heart.
Memories?
s.h.i.+on straightened his back, and put more strength into his arms. Why did I just think 'memories', like he was someone of the past? Nezumi mumbled in s.h.i.+on's arms.
”I heard the wind.”
”Wind?”
”The wind was singing. I heard its song.” Nezumi raised himself. ”I've heard it before. But this time it was... it was clearer. It was a gentle melody...”
”What kind of song was it?”
”It was...”
”Can you sing it?”
”Me? Hm... well. I wonder if I can.”
”Let me hear it.”
Nezumi blinked, and his lips moved. A song with a lilting melody poured forth.
O earth, wind, and rain; O heavens, O light
Keep everything here, and
O soul, my heart, O love, my feelings true
And stay
The little mouse grew still on s.h.i.+on's shoulder. It stopped moving as if rooted to the spot, and quieted its breath. Humans all around did the same. The people hidden in the darkness were also frozen in enthralment. Their eyes were closed, and their bodies were lent fully to the song. Everything grew still. It felt like even time had stopped. Nezumi's voice, and his song, seemed to soak into them, enveloping them, rocking them, and making them feel as if their bodies and souls were floating.
But here I will stay
Please
Please
Accept my song
The song ceased, and someone let out a gentle sigh. He was not the only one. Here and there in the darkness, soft sighs could be heard. Nezumi slowly shook his head.
”I feel like I've heard it before. Like I've heard it over and over, since a long time ago. Someone's taught me this song before.”
s.h.i.+on lifted his head and posed a question at the seated elder.
”Is this song somehow related with Elyurias?”
”Do you think so, child?”
”Yes.” The moment he had blurted the answer, he felt certain. Nezumi and Elyurias were connected. The elder narrowed his eyes, and his gaze wandered in the air.
”It has been a long time since I heard it. I was convinced it had long disappeared from this land. I see―there still remains a person who can sing.”
”The wind sings.” Nezumi wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand. ”Or maybe someone's singing in the wind. And I... hear it. I've come to hear it.”
The elder nodded. ”Since when?”
”A little while ago. Yeah―a little while before the Hunt. This is the third time. When it happens, my consciousness fades, like a stage in a blackout... and then green scenery appears... and then...”
Nezumi's eyes turned to s.h.i.+on. His gaze wavered. s.h.i.+on remembered that stormy night, the night he and Nezumi had met. The boy had appeared before him, soaked and blood-stained. He was so fragile, s.h.i.+on had felt like he would make the boy fall apart just by touching him. Drawn to that fragility, and those vibrant eyes which were so much the opposite, s.h.i.+on had extended his hand.
”I'll treat your wound.” Those words had escaped his lips without a shadow of doubt, without resistance. He had felt like he had to do something. He had felt like it was his duty to protect this boy. He had never felt this protective of anyone, neither before nor after this incident.
A sharp, vivid moment. One that had burned an imprint into his life. Every time he recalled it, his heart quickened.
The fragility that had stirred s.h.i.+on's protective instinct―the same fragility that had been completely wiped clean when they reunited four years later―returned into those eyes again.
His heart quickened.
”I don't know,” Nezumi continued. ”I was still young, and I was wading through the gra.s.s. And I could see... the sky.”