Beyond the Horizon

57. Clear

Nezumi's throat and eyes burned from the noxious fumes, but he ignored the raw, bloody taste in his mouth and sucked in breath after breath of the fresh air in the new hallway. He never thought the stale Lab air could ever taste like freedom, but it seemed today had a number of nasty surprises in store for him—and one blessed one.

          Nezumi kept his fingers laced in Shion's fine white hair, soothing Shion's ragged breaths and his own rabbiting heart. His chest was still so full of wonder and gratitude at Shion being alive and well that he wasn't sure whether his trembling breaths were actually the fault of smoke inhalation or just the breathtaking relief of finally having Shion in his reach again.

          Shion kept his temple pressed against the wall, but he opened his eyes and fixed Nezumi with a watery smile. "That sucked," he muttered, his voice raspy and tired. "I really..." His brow pinched and his gaze glazed over with fear when he looked past Nezumi into the fume-filled hallway they'd barely escaped. "I really thought we were done for. I wasn't sure I could do it."

          Nezumi shook his head. "I didn't doubt you for a second. You've always been a wrecking ball when you needed to be."

          Shion coughed out a laugh, which quickly turned into an actual coughing fit. Nezumi patted his back gently until it passed. "Ugh..." Shion sighed. "I feel like I was hit by a truck. My head is pounding."

          Nezumi nodded sympathetically. His own headache had faded to a dull throb, but he could still feel it nibbling at the base of his skull, biding its time for his next overextension.

          "Just keep it together a little longer. As long as we don't run into anything like that again," Nezumi muttered, glancing at the puddle of human remains steaming in the hallway, "we should be able to get out of here without too much trouble...."

          "Shion's done a lot," Rin said, wiping their palms on their jumpsuit legs. "I still have some juice left, so if we run into any more mooks, I'll burn them right up."

          Bits of white clung to the dark fabric of Rin's pants where they'd brushed their hands off, and at first Nezumi thought it was ash, but then Rin turned their hands up to inspect them, and he saw how red they were, the skin flaking off their furiously red palms.

          Nezumi's stomach sank. Look at us, he thought miserably. They were winning, it seemed, for the moment, but the fight had taken its toll on everyone. The broken body of Shion's fallen friend flitted through Nezumi's mind. Hitomi. It was a name he would never forget; the sound of Rin's agonized cries had seared it into his memory.

          Nezumi's mouth turned down into a grim line. He promised he would never forget Hitomi's name, nor Kozuma's. He would remember them as solemnly as he remembered his own murdered family. If not for their sacrifices, he and Shion may not be alive right now.

          But they still had several floors to go before they could consider this fight finished, and despite the necessary and well-earned breather, they needed to keep going.

          Aki appeared to be of the same mind, because he met Nezumi's eye and said, "We should head down after the others. I worry about staying in this place for too long."

          Even if the noxious, fiery fumes in the adjacent hallway weren't as much a danger to them now that they'd made it past the security door into clean air, Nezumi didn't want to press their luck. The sooner they were outside with the wide expanse of the sky above them, the better.

          Shion sighed again and rolled off the wall. He stumbled as he tried to straighten and Nezumi's arm shot out to steady him. Shion smiled and laid a hand over where Nezumi had gasped his forearm. The affection in Shion's gaze, coupled with his warm, reassuring touch, sent a zing of electricity over Nezumi's skin.