Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of

Nezumi never imagined he'd buy a ring.

            When the thought first came to him in the dead of night, he'd immediately shoved it aside as nonsense. A sleepy thought that drifted into his cerebral cortex and would vanish with the rising sun. He'd burrowed into his blankets and listened to the comforting sound of Shion snoring softly beside him as he drifted off to sleep.

            But morning hadn't erased the thought. In fact, each passing day only seemed to increase its intensity. He began to daydream about possible colors and shapes. He started contemplating the best times to go window shopping, the shops that might have the best variety.

            Before Nezumi knew it, September seventh had crept up on him. Birthday gifts had always been a point of stress for Nezumi. He wasn't good at gift-giving. He'd managed to pull something impressive out of his hat last year: a simple mug with a purple flower on the side.

            It seemed so minuscule in comparison to his sudden return―Nezumi doubted he'd ever be able to top that―but Shion loved it all the same. He'd kissed Nezumi on the lips, thanked him, and spent the rest of the day grinning like an idiot.

            It hadn't been anything that impressive, Nezumi thought, but Shion's reaction to it had warmed his heart all the same.

            By all accounts, Shion wasn't difficult to shop for. He didn't care for extravagance. He enjoyed simplicity, and Nezumi's little gestures meant the world to him. Be it waking up a bit early to start a pot of coffee, coming home a few minutes early to help with dinner, or holding Shion's hand on the way to the supermarket―these small gestures never failed to make Shion smile for the rest of the day, so full of light that he better resembled the sun.

            Shopping for a suitable present shouldn't have been difficult. Shion's twenty-third birthday wasn't any different than his twenty-first or his twenty-second.

            Except, in many ways, it was.

            It marked exactly eleven years since Shion and Nezumi's fates had become intertwined. Seven years since destiny brought them back together, and another four since Nezumi had breezed back into his life, planted roots and remained stationary with no intention of leaving.

            Shion's twenty-first had been special in that they used it to officially become an item. In reality, their actual relationship had begun years prior, in the midst of chaos and desperation, but the night of Shion's twenty-first birthday was the night Nezumi decided to stop running from it.

            That night, Shion had pulled him close and kissed him again and again until the sun rose over the horizon. September eighth had been spent laying in bed, sleep-deprived and drunk on happiness, but Nezumi wouldn't have traded it for anything.

            It had been two years since that night. Two years of welcome home kisses, goodnight hugs, nightmares that were met with words of comfort, and simple gestures out in public. There had been an appropriate adjustment period following Nezumi's return, where they relearned each other's quirks and nuances before deciding that yes, they did want to spend the rest of their lives together.

            Two years of having a boyfriend. Nezumi had never imagined himself as someone who would be surrounded by labels, but he didn't mind. His four years on the road after the fall of No.6 had changed him, assuring him that it was okay to love and be loved in return.

            When the idea of getting a ring finally solidified in Nezumi's mind, he tried to talk himself into making it a promise ring. Something plain with a flowery meaning that Shion would cling to and tell Nezumi he loved.