Beyond the Horizon

17. Roadblock

For the first time in his life, Shion understood how it felt to fly.

          The terror of plummeting―leaping from the safety of familiar ground and soaring downward in a fatal nosedive, spinning out of control and unable to anticipate when the jagged rocks below would come―vanished as a weightlessness overcame him, filling his heart with warmth that made every nerve in his body tingle.

          Shion wasn't a singer, but he felt like throwing his head back and sharing his happiness with the world. The days had begun to grow shorter, the shadows of twilight arriving earlier and earlier as time went on, but his world had never seemed so bright.

          I'm happy. Shion could feel it in his bones, splintering through his blood and circulating through every cell that composed his being.

          It had been nearly two weeks since Nezumi had finally come out from his shell. Part of Shion had feared that his brutal honesty would drive Nezumi away, plunging a wedge between them they would never recover from. Instead, Nezumi had removed his armor and bared his soul, granting Shion the honor of having his heart.

          The crisp morning air kissed Shion's cheeks as he and Nezumi walked down the sidewalk. It was Shion's first time venturing into the town below the site of their warehouse, and part of him felt like a kid in a candy store.

          The town was small and rundown. The buildings were worn and clustered together, and the streets were marked with potholes. Despite the wear and tear on the outside, the little town had charm, like something caught in the middle of time. It was an old, sequestered place that hadn't been touched by the outside world.

          Their rations were running low. They'd eaten through the bags of chips, the granola bars, and had worked their way through the bottles of water. Even limiting their portions, the food hadn't lasted as long as Shion hoped it would. His little backpack grew lighter and lighter until one morning he'd opened it up and counted only two granola bars and a single bottle of spring water.

          Shion hadn't anticipated Nezumi letting Shion go into town with him. Nezumi hadn't let him come along before, shaking his head and saying, "Nah, I'm quicker on my own."

          But Shion had been hopeful that Nezumi might allow him to tag along this time. The shifts in their relationship had made him confident that Nezumi would want his company, and Shion's new sense of control over his abilities made him certain that Nezumi would view him as an asset rather than a liability.

          And so that morning, when Shion said, "I'd like to go with you into town," his heart sang when Nezumi replied, "OK."

          The backpack sat between Shion's shoulder blades as he and Nezumi strolled down the sidewalk. The midmorning sunlight sliced through the frigid snap drifting through the air, settling in his bones. With autumn quickly slipping by and winter fast approaching, a threatening chill had built up, lancing through Shion's haze of happiness when the nights drifted on.

          He tried not to think about it right now. As he walked through the town, he focused on the stone and wood buildings, the signs above the small shops, and the feeling of Nezumi's fingers curled around his own.

          Anxious butterflies danced in Shion's stomach, and electricity snapped through his blood. His head buzzed with happiness, and the warmth of Nezumi's skin against his own calmed him when his nerves began to flare.

          Shion hadn't thought Nezumi would take his hand when he offered it, simply because there were prying eyes in the town. It was small, certainly, but the town had a population. Thousands of eyes who could spot them, identify them, turn them over if the right people came snooping around.