No. 6

CHAPTER 4 - To The Evening Breeze

For more than a thousand years sad Ophelia
Has passed, a white phantom, down the long black river;
For more than a thousand years her sweet madness
Has murmured its romance to the evening breeze.
-Arthur Rimbaud, "Ophelia"

***  

Nezumi fell very slowly and quietly. It was like watching a slow-motion film. An ancient, monochromatic film...

A dull impact hit his chest. Nezumi had fallen on him. Shion caught the boy's weight and heat in his arms. Suddenly, the black-and-white screen regained its repulsive colours of reality.

Nezumi collapsed in Shion's arms, letting his whole body weigh down on them. The stench of blood assaulted Shion's nose.

Nezumi...

But no voice came out. He could not understand what had happened. He just could not. What is it? What just happened? Soldiers were pointing their guns at them. Rifles. The bayonets attached to them shone starkly white. One of the soldiers let his tongue peek out from between his lips.

A new wave of prisoners came in a torrent down the stairs. They formed a blockade between the soldiers and Shion. Of them, a bald, gigantic man gave a short cry. He staggered, clutching his chest.

"Damnit... you've done it now." The giant took two, three steps towards a soldier and suddenly let out a great roar. "Goddamnit!"

The giant lunged at the soldier. At the same time, there was an explosion. Smoke and flames burst from the monitoring room near the stairs. Shion saw the soldier being flung to the wall by the blast. White smoke rapidly filled the corridor. Like a giant white snake, it slithered up the stairs and crawled down the hall.

Shion hoisted Nezumi up, and made for the end of the hallway. In regards to the movement of the smoke, the typical way to escape was probably downstairs. But down this hall was the Hygiene Management department.

The Hygiene Management Department. From the layout, Shion guessed that a simple medical examination room had been built adjacent to it. He stepped in through the door, which had been left flung open. He closed it to prevent further smoke and flames from filtering in.

He tripped. Nezumi's body nearly slipped from his grasp. Shion attempted to catch him, but fell down with him in a tangle. He instinctively thrust his palms out, and noticed they had left red hand prints on the floor. His palms were dyed with blood―with Nezumi's blood.

"Nezumi!"

He couldn't help but raise his voice. Words were tearing through his throat and streaming forth.

"Nezumi, can you hear me? Nezumi!"

Nezumi's eyes remained closed, and he remained unresponsive. The blood had spread from his shoulder, stained his chest, streamed down his arm, and was dripping from his fingertips.

"No, how―how can this―" He knew that he could not lose his wits. He had to be rational. He had to calmly carry out what he had to do.

I know. Of course I do. But I can't move. My mind and my body are frozen still.

"Nezumi, Nezumi. Please, open your eyes." He gritted his teeth.

You dumbass. He heard a scolding voice. You're a helpless idiot. Useless, good-for-nothing. You're bigheaded and slow and cowardly.

Inukashi? Is that you?

Can't you even protect your most precious person? Can you only cry without even trying to save him? What do you have to show for being with Nezumi all this time, then? Are you still the same spoiled elite as you were in No. 6?