SHION HIKARI AKUMA // CAPITOL [FIN]

The first time he leaves I want to chase him. But I don’t. Instead I remain standing at the edge of my balcony, eyes trailing his figure as it disappears into the bushes beside my home.

I first met him the day after Safu's grandma's eightieth birthday. I was twelve years old at the time and a prodigy in all academic matters. I had just left Safu’s house (best friends since two years old, I spent every day with her growing up, she’d grown up to be just as smart and talented as I was, she became a part of my family as I became a part of hers – as little as she had left. It was just her grandma and her after all.) it had been her grandma's birthday and even on the older woman's birthday I hadn't been able to leave without her giving me a new jumper. It was a light purple, a girl's jumper in all honesty, but as Safu bugged me to put it on I loved it all the same. How could I not? She'd spent hours stitching it together for me.

As I was leaving the lightning cracked across the sky. We'd stood at the open door together, Safu and I, admiring the way it danced across the sky in one quick, dazzling splash of light and colour. It was like a momentary crack in the rift of time and space. Things like this always fascinated me more then they did Safu, what she loved more then anything was trying to decipher how the brain worked, but these kids of things left me awe-struck. The fibers of the earth being fabricated before me, anything of such extraordinary beauty left me reeling.

Soon after it began to rain.

The mad dash home was delightful, the rain had yet to start falling in a proper downfall, but the light shower that rushed over the umbrella, the pitter patter of falling raindrops on the plastic was something I always enjoyed. It reminded me of cold mornings and warm fires, when mother would snuggle down beside me in front of the fire-place and we would watch the flames dance as the wind howled through the empty hallways. Then as night ticked on I'd gather my tiny feet beneath me and move to the windows, in all my carelessness and need to discover I'd ignore my mother's warnings that it was dangerous to stand so near to the glass as the sky light up with flashes of brilliant lighting. But I could never help myself, endlessly intrigued I was by the sound of rain on the window, the way the wind slammed against the glass, the steady sound of the house bracing itself before groaning as the wind dropped for a moment.

That night was one of those nights. But I'd grown too old for night time cuddles, so instead I stood in my room, watching. The window in my room stood from ceiling to floor from one wall to the other, outside was a large balcony, aside from my mothers room it was the largest room in the house. Then all at once I just needed to be out there, in the falling rain and the cold and the lighting and thunder. My fingers traveled quickly over the control panels and with a gust and rattle the windows flew open. All at once the curtains billowed in a silent howl of complaint, the windows shook on their hinges and in the ecstasy of it all I raced outside.

Wisps of white hair flew around my face, it took little more then a few seconds before I was soaked and my hair was instead plastered to my head, so wet that not even the power of the cold breeze could lift it off of my skin. That was when I first started screaming. It was some kind of emotion that overcame all common sense. A simple need just to express my feelings with no words, but rather just the feeling of the building of a cry in your chest, before you released it all at once in a loud, energy filled roar. As the rain pummelled you, the wind blew and the sky flickered, deadly flashes of light splashing the world it was like the earth was screaming as well, so it seemed only right that I should join in. So I did, and the power that leaked through my pores was just as remarkable as the pure exotic feeling of ecstasy that laced your veins, just as your mind filled with that hype as you began a race, or started a game.

You felt in control.

Soaking wet I moved back inside,the rush of pure emotions lifting my body. Breathing heavily I stumbled back towards the panel, fully intent on closing the windows once more. The breath of fresh air, and chilled rain had set my body on fire fueled by energy.

(I had grown up under a mother that was known for her scientific knowledge, she was clever, but she had never used those skills, she had preferred to stay in a more domestic setting rather then explore the world of science. She never failed to push me into it, however. I did not mind, I found it interesting, the many aspects of human nature and the human body stirred a mixture of awe and excitement within the pit of my stomach.

Father had disappeared early on in my life. Mum had never been pleased by him, it was surprising that their relationship had lasted as long as it had. I do not mourn his loss, a drunk man with a horrid, abusive attitude. I do not crave a fatherly figure, I do not see the need in such a person in my life when my mother fills that role perfectly. If I had any questions on anything I just went straight to the books, I didn't hesitate to read up on it. being by Safu's side was never an inconvenience either, she was always the one to ask direct questions, not an ounce of creativity within her, useful in its own way).

It was then that I saw him for the first time. I will never forget that day. I do not joke when I say that day literally changed my life forever. It seems strange that destiny, life and fate should intertwine themselves together in one single, irrational moment. And it did. On that day it fell all together like a stone forming under the hand of Ripred himself. I had spun around to catch one last glimpse of that wild, unruly world before i closed the door and he was there. He stood between the billowing curtains, a dark figure, dripping with rain-soaked, long, dark hair covering his face. He was ragged, unruly and wild looking. A flash of lightning danced in the background and for a moment I caught a glimpse of his face. My eyes had widened with surprise he was so young, my age.

I-

Ring, ring, ring.

Baboom, baboom, baboom.

There was a moment of hesitation, and in that brief moment he moved, his feet agile and quick and suddenly he was right there in front of me. A small, young, scarred hand wrapped around my throat, pushing me up against the wall. The phone let out another piercing wail, my mothers caller ID flickered onto the control panel. But I remained staring at this boy. Eyes wide, but I was not scared. I was not scared at all, I was intrigued more so then anything. From the way his hand just clung to my neck, something so small held so much power, but it wasn't the type of strength you received from cold rage. It was something you gained from trauma, pain and despair. How I knew that I could not say. I think I read it in a book once.

Silence reigned for a split second, the pause between rings eerily cold.

It wasn't until the phone began calling again that my brown eyes moved away from his for just a second, dashing over to the control panel before they once more returned to his cold, lonely face.

"I won't tell her, it's okay."

And they aren't empty words, the ones that follow me around at school, or the ones that slip from my lips as I talk to my friends. They're like the ones that come from my mouth when I speak to Safu or mother, they mean something.

It's then that I notice the blood dripping from onto the floor. Small flecks one, two, three hitting the ground one after the other. I follow their movements until I see the blood soaked sleeve, where there is surely a wound in need of attention. Behind us the wind still howls, the rain smashes against the open window and where it isn't open it falls onto the ground, pooling at the door and on to the floor. The curtains are slick with rain and every gust of wind sends them flying into the room, another shower of rain water splatters onto the floor and table. It was wild, crazy and free, a pounding breathe in the coldness of a dark night, the beating of a rapid heart in a chest, the widening of the eyes in fear, but I had no time to drink it all in. My mind instantly snapped back to the situation at hand, blood soaked his torn, dirt covered shirt.

The phone continues to ring and I slip my other hand from my side. He seems to watch each of my movements, he has not let go of my neck, but at the same time he does not stop me. I press the green button.

"Hey mum."

"Shion is your window open? You're going to get sick close it right now."

"Sorry, I'll close it straight away."

"Good." She pauses. "When you finish that come out here, I've got dinner sitting here, waiting for you."

I look once at the boy before responding, my eyes, however remain on his face. "No, I can't mum, I have so much homework, this new school is piling on the assignments, I'll grab it and eat in here, is that okay?"

"Sure. Just don't work yourself too hard, alright?"

A small click follows and the call is terminated. The boy seems to relax, if only slightly, but I can tell, the grip on my neck lessening slightly. I touch a few more buttons on the control panel and all at once the window closes and the raging storm that had torn through the room disappeared. We sunk into a cold, isolated silence, my ears were ringing slightly with the shattered beat of the storm.

I did not care where he had come from, I did not care what he was doing or why he had been shot. There was a person sitting here in front of me bleeding to death. I had to help them. It was a primal drive that had taken over me since I had turned eight. It was why I was so accepting of others telling me to study medicine. It wasn't the path I had chosen for myself, but I did not argue with it. Had Safu been here she would have asked them all types of analytical questions, does it hurt? What is the pain like? Are there torn muscles? If I poked it here would you scream? She wouldn't see a human being bleeding, she'd see an experiment, something new to explore. It seems that myself and her grandma are the only two people in the entire world that do not face this apathetic side of her.

"You're hurt. Let me help you. I know how to treat wounds like that, I've read all about them." I smile at him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but all at once his grip slips from my throat and he stumbles forwards, right into my arms. I grab him, and I draw him away before gently moving him onto the ground. It seemed that the blood loss was getting to him. I lean him up against the wall before dashing off to the closest in my room, I had a medical kit in there, I was, after all supposed to be starting my career in medicine within the next few days. Twelve years old and I was already being shaped onto the path of high medical techniques. I was already reading books that people in their twenties were just beginning to gaze at. My mother said that there was five of us within the entire generation, kids that the Capitolites searched for to make them their best. She said she had been one, well they thought she had been a long time ago.

Now I was to step up and onto that path and apparently Safu was supposed to be like me as well. So I knew to an extent how to fix up a wound, granted I had never done it, but I had read all about it. Strangely -- and maybe it was a childs opinion, because in the end I was still only a little kid -- I was excited to try it out.

Moving back to his side I kneel down, but he seems to have gathered his wits enough to push away my hand.

"Don't you dare touch me." He says. I just stare a him evenly. "If I don't help you, you will die." I respond frostily to his feeble attempts to push my aid away.

(He says that this is the first time he knew that I was scary. He says that this is the first time he knew I was to be someone feared. I can't see why this is so, as it my hollow voice? The eyes devoid of emotion? Or the seriousness of which I demanded his compliance without even forcing it upon him? I don't think I will ever know why he fears me in that way. He is, after all, the one that shoots and kills and murders without hesitating. I am the one that cries at death and names his mechanical rats. I am the one that smiles and laughs when he threatens me, I cannot see it within me. In the future I will be called a demon, in the future I will be called a thing with this darkness tearing away at my insides. A man with no legs will tell me that my last name means demon in a forgotten language, and he will look me in the eyes and he will see rage and hatred because he sees what I cannot and Nezumi, my dear Nezumi will continue to ignore, for my sake as well as his own).

"I swear to Ripred if you do anything to me I will kill you." It is not an idle threat. My smile returns at his comment, all seriousness melts away and I am once more a child trying to play an adults game.

"I won't hurt you, I promise." And it was with tentative need that he lets me fix him up. I remember how my long slender fingers held those surgical scissors, it took, I remember how the needle went into his skin, how he pulled away, eyes round asking me "what the hell was that thing?" I responded with a soothing answer, letting him know it would take away the pain he was surely in as I stitched it up. I remember the feel of his blood on my fingers, the warm touch it left, but the burning sensation that caught in my stomach, knowing that this was his life line, if he lost too much he could die. I remember the way the needle went in and out of his skin, the way I seemed to know what I was doing and the way he seemed to almost trust each of my actions. And when it was all done I asked him what his name was.

"Nezumi." He said. Although I would soon come to learn that everyone else called him Rat, I never did, however, he was always Nezumi to me. Always.

When he asked for my own I replied eagerly, "Shion Akuma." I said, once more throwing him a large grin. It was the sound of a growling stomach that stopped my endless staring. Standing up abruptly I moved to the door, he watched me go. Hesitating at the end I pointed to the bed that set up a flight of five stairs.

"You're exhausted, feel free to rest."

I head out of the room and into the kitchen, my mother is washing the dishes, she looks up as I approach. "Shion the Capitol has sent out an emergency message, a prisoner has escaped. You need to confirm that you have seen it, I want you to stay inside until he is caught, according to the authorities he is very dangerous." I look at her as she slides over the digital screen, on there is a picture of Nezumi, and for the life of me I can't see how anyone could find him dangerous. It has no age, height or weight, and with that long hair and dark brooding face he did look intimidating, but scary? No. I tap on the little button that says I have seen the notification and that if I see him I will immediately warn the authorities. My mother reaches over and pats my head smiling, "here is your dinner and I have got a slice of cherry pie for you as well." She hands me a tray and I take it. I grab an extra cup and fill it with some coffee from the pot that sits on the counter. My mother gives me a questioning look and I shrug in response.

"Thank you, mum, I'll bring it out when I am done, I'll wash it myself." I reply, smiling at her. She walks to the edge of the room, before turning around, "don't stay up too late, okay? You need your sleep." I nod in agreeance before heading off to my own room.

When I get back in Nezumi is lying on my bed. I head over to him and hand him the tray of food. "My mother is a good cook, here eat this." Handing over the tray with the bowl of stew and slice of cherry pie I grab one of the cups of coffee, leaving the other for him. It's just after the meal when I reach forwards to grab the tray. I must have surprised him, it was the only explanation I could come up with, because within the same moment I am being pressed onto the bed, a spoon held to my throat. Nezumi is poised on top of me, pinning me to the sheets.

It was in that moment I should have felt alarm. Perhaps I should have even been scared, but I'm not, instead I'm intrigued. I'm excited, I want to know how he did it, how within a split second I was no longer leaning forwards, but face first on the mattress being pinned down. The way his body had just responded, automatically grabbing me an tugging me down, how he held me, fingers tight, painfully so and yet they were in the exact correct places to make sure I could not move. He seemed shocked that I was not struggling, I was just this limp thing, watching him, ready to ask for an explanation on how he did it. Because for the life of me I wanted to know how it was done, it was incredible to watch.

"You... You're not struggling." He asked, tone slightly perplexed. He slipped off of me and sat down beside me. But his hand did not leave mine, the hand he had gripped as he had pinned me remained wrapped around my own. After a second he flops down on the bed beside me. "How'd you do that?" I asked, turning my head to face him, eyes wide with wonder.

"You're so weird, Shion. What's wrong with you?" He asks, turning his head to look me in the eyes. And then all at once he smiles, lips parting as a bout of laughter escapes. It is a child's laugh and soon I am joining in. He said I was weird, but here before me was a child that knew how to pin someone, he was my age and yet he had fighting skills someone that young should not possess. The laughter drops into a comfortable silence where Nezumi continues staring at the roof, I stare at him and it takes me a few moments to realise he has dozed off on me. This strikes worry within me, for a boy that had been alert and frightful of me even reaching near him had suddenly lowered his barriers at a rapid rate. Untangling my hand from his I draw it upwards and press it to his forehead. Alarm prickles my arms as I feel the heat radiate from his skin. He wasn't burning yet, but there was a fever.

"Hey, Nezumi, you've got a fever, I have some antibiotics in the next room, you can have some." I move to get up, but his hand reaches out and grabs mine once more. I hesitate, "it's fine, Shion, I'm just tired."

I've asked myself a few times why I never persisted, but in the end I shake the question off with a shrug. It would have not mattered. The outcome would have been the same regardless of that decision. It does not plague me as much as it had when I was twelve years old, my childish mind had been determined to believe it could have lead to something else, but it wouldn't have. It was always going to be that way. Accepting his decision with a nod of my head I grabbed my blanket, tugging it out from underneath the sleeping boy before chucking it over the top of both of us.

I fell asleep that night staring at the boy with the long grey hair and dark grey eyes, I fell asleep wondering why he was lying there, wondering why he had a bullet wound in his shoulder. Asking myself every single question I could not come up with an answer for, determined to squeeze them from him when morning came. Not once did I ask myself what would happen when the authorities found out. Because they would, Nezumi had dismissed the VC tracker that had been placed on him, I had foolishly believed him. Oh how wrong I had been on that matter. But as I fell asleep it wasn't those things that bugged me, it was wanting to know everything about this strange boy. Who was he?

I'd not find out for four years.

It was as ever a child's dream that lead me to sleep with ease. It was a child's dream that convinced me that he would stay. I shouldn't have thought he would, he had the entire Capitol on his tail. When I woke up he wasn't there. I was not, however, stupid so for not a single instance did I think the entire incident had been a dream, instead I got up straight away and looked around the room. The window was open once more. I was up and racing out of it and to the balcony as fast as I could. I crashed into the rail and frantically searched for him. And the last I saw of him was a flash of purple before he disappeared into the scrub. The sky had cleared by that point, but I did not notice this as I stood staring. I was frozen, eyes glued to that spot, mind replaying over and over again his figure disappearing. My hands clenched the rails tightly, but I wasn't disappointed or upset. I wasn't yearning to change what had happened, sure I wanted to chase him. I wanted to leap right over the balconies edge and follow him, he was different, exciting and new, I wanted to learn about him. But I stayed.

Thinking back on it I can always tell myself why I stayed, it was for my mother, it was for my home, my house and its security. It was for the fact that I had so much yet to learn and so much more to experience.

It was because instinct told me to stay. I did not doubt that I would see him again. I knew I would. I promised myself I would.

It's the call of the wind that awakens my body. It's cool touch, it's movements, the way it grabs my air and whips it around my face, the way it bites at my exposed skin in the way that only the cold can do right after a storm. Finally I tear my gaze away and I turn around and I head back inside. It is there that I find it, his tattered, torn and blood-stained sweater. The one he had worn here, it lies where the light purple sweater had been. I feel no loss for the jumper, in fact I am pleased, he carries something of mine, I will not be forgotten, I know that now.

The peacekeeper's come that morning.

Mother cries as they go into my room, all stern faced and threatening. They ask me why. They don't even for a second let me deny it, but even if they had of asked I would have told them the truth. I don't regret the decision I made, it was the right one. I did not make a mistake when I chose to let him come inside, when I made the decision to fix his wounds and fed him and make sure he did not die. The told me that I took pity on a criminal. They told me I broke the law and had I been older then I was they would have arrested me, but I was twelve and they saw it as a foolish, irrational act of a child. It was not irrational, maybe it was a spare of the moment decision but it was not irrational. I knew what I was doing, maybe not why, but I knew what i was doing every step of the way. I did not veer from the choice I made.

They said I took pity on him. Again this was not true. I saw nothing to pity in Nezumi, I saw strength, courage and skill, I saw a broken boy and someone with a past that would probably scare any normal person. I saw someone I could learn from, someone who interested me and got my heart racing. He was someone I wanted to talk to not condemn. There was still so many questions that needed answering. But when they told me I took pity on him, when they told me it was an irrational act of a child I did not argue. After all I was not stupid, I knew that they knew I was a genius, but I knew that they also knew I was a child and a child was allowed to make mistakes.

But they had to be punished all the same.

Four years from that encounter I find myself waking up in the morning, walking down a small flight of stairs in a tiny house I was forced to move into with my mother. On that day I was stripped of all my entitlements. I was taken out of the school i was supposed to attend, my history was wiped clean, I was no longer a prodigy, a genius that was to become one of the greatest doctors the Capitol ever knew. I was a boy with a bad reputation. A boy who worked in garbage disposal at one of the parks. My mother, never once, blamed me, never once did she get upset, she took it all in good faith. She opened a baking shop, she started a life where she was no longer allowed luxury and comfort, she had to work to survive. But never once did she yell at me, and blame me, hit me for my mistake, she loved me all the same. She held my hand, she cooked for me and raised me, she took it all in stride and become something more respectable and worthy.

Safu continued on in her schooling, we saw each other once a year and every time we met we were those two kids again. She loved me. Often she will ask me what happened. Why one morning we were kicked from our large house in the centre of the Capitol, why we were suddenly living in the outskirts, off of a few dollars a day. Why I worked in a garbage disposal when five years ago I was the shining star of the Capitol. And I'll let her know that I can't tell her. Because if I told her she would share the same fate as me, and she'll smile and nod her head and tell me that's okay, she understands.

Not a day passes by that I don't think of that boy, Nezumi.

I do not regret a single choice I have made in my life, in fact I am happier now then I was before.

The first time he leaves I want to chase him, but I don't.

... The second time he leaves I do.

But the rest of that story has yet to come.