"Get out of my way! I swear to god I'll shoot you!"

Shion's heart jumped as the man pulled a sleek revolver from his coat and pointed it at Rikiga. His own hand brushed his hip holster, but before a thought fully formed, Nezumi had stepped out and brought the man under control. Then Nezumi kicked out the man's legs and shoved him down head first. His skull made an audible crack when it connected with the floorboards. Shion flinched. Having been on the receiving end of Nezumi's takedowns several times, he felt an empathetic throb at the back of his head and between his shoulder blades.

"Well, that was easy," Nezumi said cheerily.

"Speak for yourself," Rikiga grumbled, eyeing the gun held limply in the unconscious man's grip.

"You fucking prick!" Inukashi spat. They marched up to Nezumi, their face twisted into a rictus of fury. "Where were you, huh? You were supposed to come out the minute that pedo cosied up to me!" Inukashi gave him a hard shove.

Nezumi stumbled back a step, but the mild amusement on his face didn't falter. "Calm down. So I was a few minutes late. Guess I got stage fright," he said with a shrug. "I'm only a third-rate actor, after all. Real life treachery is so much scarier than the scripted occurrences."

"You are such a liar! You manipulative pig bastard! I'm never gonna trust you again. Next time you come to me for a job, I'm going to shoot you in the dick and kick you down the stairs!"

Nezumi raised an eyebrow. "Colorful."

"I will never forgive you!" Inukashi snarled. They hugged the threadbare blanket tighter about their shaking shoulders. The fabric hissed as some of the threads stretched and snapped. "Next time you be the fucking jailbait and I'll just sit back and watch while a disgusting old man licks and fondles you!"

"Inukashi." Shion touched them on the shoulder, and they whirled on him.

"And you! Where the hell were you? You coulda came out and helped me, but you didn't do anything!"

Shion curled his hand against his chest. He had planned on bursting out from behind the partition the minute the man laid his hands on Inukashi—that had been the plan, to come out once their mark had sat down on the bed—but Nezumi had gripped his forearm and cautioned him to wait. Nezumi had looked so serious that Shion obeyed and continued to watch quietly, even though the man's actions and Inukashi's obvious discomfort made his insides squirm.

"I'm sorry," Shion murmured.

Inukashi grit their teeth and turned their face aside.

Nezumi crouched down and pulled the gun from the man's grip. "Breaking all sorts of rules, this one. Aren't these illegal in the Holy City?" He waggled it at Shion with a grim smile.

"The officials bring handguns with them in case of zombie attack," Rikiga volunteered.

Nezumi slid the pistol's chamber open and snorted. "Well, this guy would be dead on the spot if he ever ran into one. This caliber can kill humans just fine, but on the undead it'd be about as effective as shooting a BB gun while shouting, 'Come and get me!' " He rooted around in the man's coat pockets and pulled out a small purse. Nezumi poured the contents into his palm and whistled. "Five gold coins? You really are living large, aren't you, old man?"

"That's more than the usual rate," Rikiga said defensively. "I told him I was preparing a special girl for him this time, so the fee would be higher."

"Here." Nezumi rose and tossed a coin at Inukashi. "You can buy hot water and a bucketload of soap to wash the stench of pervert off you."

Inukashi fumbled the coin and had to scramble after it as it rolled across the floor. "You're such an asshole." Their voice wavered, and their fingers trembled as they clawed the coin from the floor.

They were really scared. Shion swallowed, shame snagging in his gut like a mass of barbed wire. Of course Inukashi was. A strange, disgusting older man had touched them without their consent, and he just stood by and let it happen.

Inukashi was only a child. They were snarky and self-possessed, with a booming business, expert marksmanship, and a pack of loyal dogs at their command, so it was easy to forget that they were younger than Shion. Inukashi shouldn't have been subjected to that man's perverse appetite. The fear, and revulsion, and humiliation must have been unbearable. He should have protected Inukashi. It was his fault that they had been put in this position in the first place.

"Inukashi," Shion said quietly, moving to their side. He reached out a hand, but stopped himself before touching them again; he didn't want Inukashi to suffer further unwanted contact. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let that happen to you. I should have come out immediately. I'm really sorry."

Inukashi's eyes shone, and the corners of their mouth trembled in a grimace that barely held the tears at bay. "I hate you. I hate all of you."

Shion nodded. "I know…."

Inukashi sunk their teeth into their lower lip. "It felt so...disgusting. I wanted to die, or scream…. But I stayed quiet as long as I could. Because that was the plan." Inukashi shuffled forward and pushed their head into his chest. Shion placed his hands gently on their shoulders. "I kept wondering where you guys were, but I tried to do my part. I held it in as long as I could."

"I know. I'm sorry," Shion said again.

"Inukashi."

Inukashi pulled their head back and looked over at Nezumi. He tossed another coin and they snatched it out of the air. The blanket slithered off their shoulders and laid in a heap at Shion's feet.

"The rest of your share," Nezumi said. "Reparations for your trauma."

"You're a cold bastard," Inukashi seethed.

Nezumi thrust the last three coins at Rikiga, but the man didn't reach out to take them. He looked beyond Nezumi to the unconscious No. 6 official.

"What's wrong?" Nezumi asked. "You've done worse things for less."

"Yeah, well…" Rikiga cleared his throat. "I've done some pretty terrible things, but I wouldn't call any of them dangerous. Not like this. What we're about to do...there's no going back from it."

"Exactly. The plan's already in motion, so it's too late to have cold feet." Nezumi glanced between Inukashi and Rikiga and made a sound of disbelieving exhaustion. "You two are trying my last nerve tonight. Everything you've done, all the seedy deals and illicit activity, and this is what shakes you?"

Nezumi looked upon the slack face of the No. 6 official with deadly vitriol. Shion had seen him look toward the quarantine zone with the same burning hatred before, but there was a hard, unfeeling wall between him and the objects of his resentment. Seeing Nezumi direct the frigid fire of his hostility upon a living human made Shion's skin prickle.

"Does No. 6 have that tight a hold on you?" Nezumi asked the room. "Shall we quit now, then? Rikiga, you can drive the man back to the quarantine gate like a good chauffeur, give him and each of the guards there a complimentary bottle of whiskey, maybe a discount for a visit with your ladies to make amends. I'm sure they'd be happy to forgive this small transgression. Or, Inukashi, maybe you'd like to give the gentleman a free night here at the hotel in gratitude for his gentle affections. I'm sure he'd be pleased as punch."

Rikiga and Inukashi bristled. Shion stepped forward and murmured Nezumi's name. Nezumi's cool eyes fell on him. Shion stood still and tall under his leer, ready to be dressed down and mocked like the rest of them for his interference; he knew how much Nezumi enjoyed throwing his pedigree in his face.

Nezumi slapped the three gold coins into Rikiga's palm and curled the man's fingers over them. "Buy some alcohol to numb your moral dilemma; it's seemed to work well enough these last few years." He pressed Rikiga's fist against the man's chest, leaning in until he was close enough to whisper in his ear. It looked almost affectionate, but the low, dark quality of his voice betrayed the threat. "It's too late to wriggle out of this one, old man. We each have our roles to play. At least you can rest easy now that yours is over for tonight."

Nezumi stepped back. Rikiga's shoulders slumped. He slipped the hand with the coins into his pocket, and the hand came back out with a flask. Shion instantly recognized the scent of whiskey, Rikiga's beverage of choice.

"I suppose you're right," Rikiga muttered after taking a hardy sip. He stared down at Fura's body, his mustache shifting from side to side as he sucked his teeth. "There's no taking back what we've done."

"Exactly," Nezumi said, smiling. "We're bound to each other from now until this job's over. The only way out before that is death."

"So you'll kill me before you let me leave, that it?"

Nezumi shrugged a shoulder. "If I have to. We can't afford any squeaky wheels on this one."

Inukashi huffed and crossed their arms over their chest. "We've sold our souls to the devil, old man." They eyed Nezumi with the usual combination of caution and distaste.

Shion fisted his hands at his sides. Nezumi didn't deserve their censure. This wasn't his fault. It was Shion's.

If it weren't for me, we wouldn't be endangering ourselves like this. Nezumi was only protecting him the way he'd always done, taking everything onto himself with a guarded smile and a derisive gleam in his eye.

"Don't blame him," Shion said quietly.

"Hm?" Inukashi glanced at him. "You say something?"

"Nezumi isn't a devil, he's—"

Shion met Nezumi's eyes and the words stuck in his throat. His face was shadowy in the low light, but Shion could see the gray luster of Nezumi's eyes perfectly. They were cold and impartial, a storm that lingered overhead, ominous and promising, but never giving warning before it broke—if it broke. His eyes were beautiful in the same way as nature: untamed, unapologetic, and unknowable. But Shion felt like he understood Nezumi, and had since the first time their eyes met that fateful night four years ago.

Nezumi lowered his gaze and murmured, "I am the spirit that denies. Yes, I am all things which you call Sin, Destruction, or Evil."

Inukashi cocked an eyebrow and glanced between Shion and Nezumi. "What's that? Some kind of code?"

"Mephistopheles. He's a character from Faust. He's—a demon."

Inukashi snorted. "Well, there we go. He admits he's a demon."

"He's not—"

The man on the ground groaned and the room went instantly silent.

"Showtime," said Nezumi. He pulled out his leather gloves and slipped them on. "Inukashi, I'll let you have the honor of tying him up. Make it as tight as you want."

Inukashi twisted their mouth to the side, but helped Nezumi haul Fura up into a sitting position against the bed. Shion wondered how they could bear to touch the man, but then he noticed the violence with which Inukashi bound the man's wrists. The rope bit into the flesh as deeply as it could without completely cutting off circulation.

It wasn't long before Fura came to full consciousness. The man's gaze roved around the room, unfocused and confused at first, but then he noticed his hands. "What the hell?" he muttered.

Nezumi knelt down, and Fura's eyes zeroed in on him. His eyebrows went up and his lips pulled back in a slow smile.

"Damn," Fura breathed. "Who are you? Rikiga, you were holding out on me. This one's better than all the others put together."

"You like me?" Nezumi said sweetly. "I'd be happy to spend the night with you," he traced a leather clad finger along the man's jawline, "but it's gonna cost you a lot more than five gold."

Fura pursed his lips and glanced between Nezumi and Rikiga. "It's always more with your kind. How much do you cost?"

"It's not money I'm after, but information."

Fura's expression dropped. He tried to jerk away from Nezumi's touch, but Nezumi gripped his jaw and kept him in place.

"Where are you going?" Nezumi chuckled. "We've only just begun."

"If you think I'm going to tell you anything, you're an idiot," Fura growled. "I'm not obligated to speak to filth like you. Let me go this instant. I could have you all killed for treating me in this barbaric manner."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes," the man spat. "And I'd be doing the world a service if I did. Your kind is nothing but a blight on the earth. No better than vermin or maggots. The only reason we let scum like you live is to keep a buffer between us and the stricken."

Nezumi slapped Fura across the face. The man lurched sideways and hit the floor. Nezumi yanked Fura upright by a fistful of his thinning hair and struck the opposite cheek. Then the other cheek again. A fourth time. A fifth time.

Bile pressed against the back of Shion's throat, but he couldn't make himself move or cry out for it to stop. Nezumi's expression was a blank mask as he continued to abuse the man. Shion hated it. It wasn't right.

Stop. No more.

"Nezumi," Shion managed, but his voice was so small.

"Your boyfriend doesn't look so kind now, does he?" said Inukashi. Shion turned helplessly to them and Inukashi's face darkened. "You said that once. That Nezumi is kind. Like everybody else who's known him for years has it all wrong and you're the only one with the truth. But it's you who's got it wrong, Shion. That right there? That's the true Nezumi."

Blood spotted on Fura's lips. He must have cut the inside of his mouth. Fura groaned and made a gurgling noise, pitching forward like he was going to throw up.

Nezumi's hand clamped over Fura's mouth so fast, the man's head bumped against the bed's footboard.

"That won't do, Fura-sama," Nezumi chided. "You know very well that West Block bitches don't spit. Swallow." He tightened his grip around Fura's mouth, tilting the man's head back. Tears beaded in the corners of Fura's eyes. His throat contracted.

Nezumi released the man's mouth and smiled. "'Atta boy." He gave Fura's scarlet cheek a light tap. The man flinched badly, bumping his head against the footboard again.

"Please," Fura gasped. "No more. Please."

"Feel like talking to us vermin now?"

"I… I don't know anything."

"How can you be sure? I haven't asked you any questions yet."

"Everything… It's processed by computers… There's a lot I don't know. I don't know if I can...give what you want."

Shion believed him. No. 6 was a secretive place, and heavily siloed. He doubted that even someone as high up in the ranks as Fura knew everything that went on in the city, and the Correctional Facility was about as classified as it got.

"Try for me," Nezumi said. "What's the new facility they've built beneath the Correctional Facility?"

"I don't know."

"Which Bureau is funding it?"

"I'm not sure."

"A girl—an elite from Chronos—was arrested a week ago by the Security Bureau and taken to the Correctional Facility. What was done with her? Does it have to do with whatever they've built in the Facility?"

"I don't know…"

"What about the rumors of an outbreak in No. 6? Can you confirm the truth of them, or from where they originated?"

"I-I… I don't…"

Nezumi narrowed his eyes. Fura's shoulders bunched, as if anticipating another slap.

"Please. I don't know anything. I would tell you if I did, I swear." Fura's voice was thick from fear and swelling. He trembled and twisted his wrists in the chafing ropes. "Let me go. I promise, if you do, I'll forget this happened. I won't tell anyone about it. Just let me go."

Nezumi settled back on his heels. "Alright. I'll let you have your way."

Fura perked up. The tightness in Shion's chest eased. It was terrible that they didn't get anything out of this, but at least Nezumi was finished acting like the bad guy. They'd find another way to get the information they needed. He wouldn't give up on Safu.

"Rikiga," said Nezumi, "give me a hand, would you?"

"You said my role was over."

"All I'm asking is for you to lend your customer some support. It's within your job description."

Rikiga's face shuttered. He tipped his flask back and chugged whatever was left, and when he had finished, he sighed and came over. Nezumi and Rikiga helped Fura to his feet, but instead of leading him to the door, they pulled him toward the boarded window. At some unspoken signal, Inukashi left Shion's side and crossed the room to remove the bottom few boards from the window. The cool night air drifted in and the ground two storeys below yawned like a gaping black maw.

Fura dug his heels into the floorboards when he realized he was not being released, but his scrabbling and pleas had little effect.

"Please, no," Fura gasped. "Just let me go! I won't tell anyone!"

"Relax," Nezumi said, turning Fura and pressing him up against the open window frame. "I'll let you go, I promise. You and I are just going to chat for a little longer before then." The smile he aimed at the terrified man was pure malice.

"Hold tight," Nezumi told Rikiga. "We don't want to let him go before he has a chance to remember something useful."

They hefted Fura up and half out of the window. The man shrieked and snatched at the fabric of Rikiga's shirt with his bound hands.

"I wouldn't scream so loud if I were you," Nezumi warned. "Zombies like screaming almost as much as they like blood, so I'd keep your mouth shut on both accounts. Unless, of course, you'd like to cut the crap and answer my questions."

"Please," Fura squealed. "Oh God, please!"

"I think he just pissed himself…." Inukashi moved away from the window and wrinkled their nose.

"That's enough." Shion stepped forward and grasped Nezumi's elbow with one hand and Fura's pant leg in the other. "Stop," he said. "No more. This is torture, Nezumi."

"Stay out of this, Shion."

"This isn't the way. Pull him back inside." Shion turned to Rikiga. "Don't do this. You know it's not the right way."

Rikiga gnawed his lip, but his eyes were drawn away to Nezumi. Clearly, he would only obey him. Shion looked at Inukashi, but they simply stared back at him, their face almost as perfectly dispassionate as Nezumi's. Fura's gibbering and pleas continued. He grasped desperately at the collar of Rikiga's shirt, his fingers like pale claws.

Shion swiveled his attention again. "Nezumi," he hissed, tugging on his arm and Fura's leg. "Enough. Pull him back inside."

Nezumi's jaw shifted. His fingers flexed in their grips on Fura's shirt collar and belt, and for a heart-pounding moment, Shion thought he might lose his hold and they'd have to lurch forward to catch the man before he pitched out the window.

But then Nezumi leaned back and began dragging Fura back through. Rikiga gave an audible sigh of relief and followed suit. They let Fura slide to the ground. He was shivering and sobbing, tears and spit streaked down the sides of his face and into his hairline.

Nezumi snatched Shion by the front of his coat and pulled him toward the side of the room. "What the fuck? Do you want to get answers out of this guy or not?"

"Not like that. It isn't right."

"Are you kidding me? Who cares about the moral high ground—?"

"No, it isn't right for you! I don't like seeing you that way, Nezumi! It isn't you."

Nezumi went quiet. The sliver in his irises flickered and swirled like liquid mercury. "Not me?"

"It's not. I know it's not." Shion fisted his hands at his sides. His muscles tensed so hard his whole body ached. Even his eyes and throat throbbed.

I'm being such a hypocrite.

Everyone was here because of him. Nezumi was harassing this man because of him, because he was trying to get information to help Safu. And yet here Shion was yelling at him for trying his best. Who was he to criticize Nezumi's methods when he had done nothing but stand by and watch all night? Inukashi, Rikiga, and Nezumi were elbow-deep in the plan they had all agreed upon while Shion kept his hands clean and his eyes averted. He had no right to condemn their actions when he was the coward who made others take care of his problems for him.

This is all my fault.

Selfish, self-righteous, cowardly. That's what Shion was. Self-hatred curled in Shion's stomach.

But he couldn't help it. He would be all these things and more if it meant he wouldn't have to see Nezumi pervert himself in his name.

"Ever since you brought me here, you've told me to open my eyes and see the world for what it truly is. I'm not the best at it, but what I do know is that isn't you." He flung his hand at the window, where Fura sat curled up and sobbing like a child. "You aren't ruthless or cold. You don't take pleasure in people's pain. You've always taught me to protect the things I care about, to think for myself and speak my mind. To cherish every moment like it's the most precious thing in the world. That's who you are. That's what you stand for. So please, stop acting like you're someone different. Don't lie for me."

The thunder in Nezumi's face didn't dissipate. If anything, more dark clouds were building behind his eyes.

"Eve," Rikiga sighed. "Shion's right, this way isn't going to work. Fura's a pampered No. 6 elite; fear shuts them down completely, and even the smallest amount of pain is like setting off a bomb in their brain. If we rough him up too much, he's more likely to have a heart attack than remember anything useful."

Nezumi's cool gaze flicked to Rikiga, then down at Fura, still bawling and reeking of sweat and urine. He met Shion's eyes again and held his stare as he stripped the leather gloves from his hands one at a time.

"All yours," he murmured, stepping back and lifting a pale palm toward Fura like a maitre de showing a VIP client to their table.

Shion knelt before the sniveling elite. "Fura-san? I'm sorry about scaring you. It's just that the girl the Security Bureau apprehended is my friend, and she's very precious to me. I'll do whatever it takes to save her. So, please, we need information from you."

Fura whimpered and curled more tightly into himself. Shion worried his lip. He would get nothing from the man until he had calmed down. Shion glanced down at the man's wrists. They were raw from struggling against the ropes, almost to the point of bleeding. Shion tried to undo the knots, but Inukashi had tied them tight and he couldn't get his fingers into them.

"Nezumi, can I borrow your knife?" Shion held a hand out to him, still picking at the thickest part of the bonds with his nails in a vain attempt to loosen the rope.

Shion's pulse jumped when he felt the cool weight of the knife handle in his palm a moment later. He had asked for it, but some part of him was shocked to find it given over so freely. The knife felt strange and wrong in his hand, as though it were sentient and displeased to be separated from its master.

Shion sawed through the rope around Fura's wrists and placed the knife down to carefully peel the cords away from Fura's skin.

The man hissed. "It hurts!"

"I'm sorry, I know." Shion reached for the knife again to return it, but the floor beside him was bare; somehow Nezumi had already retrieved it.

"I'll have scars forever," Fura warbled. "What will I tell my wife?"

Shion shushed him. "It won't scar, your wrists are going to be fine. I'll do what I can to treat the skin for you. Rikiga-san, can you bring him some water? The stream is just around back."

"Uh…" Rikiga blinked and glanced around the room, but when no one contradicted Shion's request, his shoulders dropped in relief. "Sure. I'll be right back." His footsteps were quick and quiet as he went out into the hall, as though he couldn't wait to escape.

"Inukashi, do you have any spare pants Fura-san could change into?"

Inukashi cocked an eyebrow, but then shrugged. "Maybe. I'll check if any customers left something behind."

And then it was just Shion, Nezumi, and Fura in the room.

Nezumi stayed leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, simply watching. Shion ignored his eyes boring into the side of his face and spoke gently to Fura.

"We're going to get you clean clothes and some fresh water to wash your mouth out, okay? You'll feel better really soon, Fura-san. But while we wait, can you try to answer a few questions? You really don't know what the facility they're building in the Correctional Facility is?"

Fura sniffled and finally dragged his bloodshot eyes up to Shion's. "I—I work in the Central Administration Bureau. I don't know about other bureaus' business. If I knew, I would tell you. I swear."

"I believe you. So then it's classified information?"

Fura nodded. "It's directly under the Mayor. There's...a dedicated team. I don't know who they are or what they work on. I don't have that kind of clearance."

"Okay. That's more helpful than you think, Fura-san. You work in the Central Administration Bureau, though, so the budget for the project would have come across your desk, right? And there would have been an assembly meeting to approve it?"

"There… There was... But the request came straight from the Mayor." Fura swiped at his wet face and shook his head. "We didn't v-vote. If the Mayor wants it, it's already approved. He just asks for the funds after the fact."

So then the new facility was already sanctioned and built by the time the project was even known to those outside it. Top-secret indeed.

Inukashi slunk back into the room with a pair of faded brown pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Neither appeared to be high quality or completely clean, but they were in good condition, and, most importantly, dry. Inukashi dropped the clothing at Shion's side then flopped down on the bed to watch from higher ground.

Rikiga was only seconds behind with a pail of water. The contents were clear and cold and Shion's throat ached just looking at it. The water from the stream out back was the sweetest he'd ever tasted. He offered the pail to Fura. The man seemed suspicious, but the thirst and desire to cleanse his mouth of the taste of blood and spit won out. He drank deeply of the water, spilling a bit out of the corners of his mouth.

"That's better, isn't it?" Shion said, smiling gently.

"Hey, Shion. Here." Rikiga held out a small bottle of gin and a roll of gauze. "I thought you might need these, so…." He nodded at Fura's wrists and Shion nodded gratefully back.

Fura's skin wasn't bleeding, but the abrasions were a tattered, angry red. "Fura-san," Shion said, "I'm going to disinfect the skin with this. It's going to sting."

He soaked the gauze in gin and pasted the pieces over the man's wrists. Fura sucked in a noisy breath through his teeth, but to his credit, he didn't whine or cry again. He looked up at Shion's face, twisting his mouth back and forth.

"How old are you?"

Shion glanced up from wrapping the bandages. "Sixteen."

"You… You're not from here, are you?"

"No, actually," Shion said slowly. He wondered what had given it away. "I used to live in No. 6."

"What?" Fura's eyes went wide. "You came from within the quarantine wall? Why—? How did you end up out here?" The question oozed with disgust.

Shion's mouth turned down at the edges. "It's complicated. But what matters is that I like where I am now. I don't plan on returning to the city."

Fura couldn't have looked more shocked if Shion slapped him across the face. Shion understood his disbelief, but he didn't have time to explain his reasons or feelings.

"I understand that you don't know any details of the project in the Correctional Facility, but is there anything you can think of that could be helpful? We don't have much time, so anything you can think of would help us."

"I don't know anything," Fura said again. He prodded Shion's finished bandages, then glanced at the pile of clothes Inukashi had dropped beside him and sneered.

"Well… If you could guess what the facility was for, what would you say?"

"Guess?"

"Yeah. Judging by what you know of the Mayor and the projects in the city, make a prediction for what might be happening. What do you think it is?"

Fura stared hard at him. Shion sympathized with the churning confusion he saw in his eyes. The man had spent his entire life as an elite under No. 6's thumb, always told what to think and how to act. Imagination wasn't productive, so it was highly discouraged. What would citizens need to fantasize about, said No. 6, when their lives were already perfect?

But it's near impossible to keep a person from daydreaming, and Fura was obviously dissatisfied with his life, or else he wouldn't be coming out to West Block to live out his fantasies. Shion believed he had the capacity to think for himself, if only he were put to the task.

Fura licked his lips. "I think…that the Health and Hygiene Bureau might have something to do with it."

The energy in the room spiked. Inukashi shifted on the bed; Rikiga traded his weight from one leg to the other, eliciting a small squeak from the floorboards; the dark seemed to gather more heavily in the place where Nezumi lurked.

Shion leaned forward. "The Health and Hygiene Bureau? Why's that?"

The bureau did exactly as one might imagine: it monitored the health of the city and its citizens, presiding over all hospitals and clinics in the quarantine zone. The Health and Hygiene Bureau was the first and foremost front the city had against fighting the infection and ensuring the virus never made it inside the walls. It handled the mandatory annual medical exams for the populace, and even administered the Children's Examinations that measured which children deserved elite status and placement in the Gifted Curriculum.

The Health and Hygiene Bureau was integral to No. 6's survival, but as far as Shion knew, it had little interaction or overlap with the Security Bureau. So what would the Health and Hygiene Bureau be doing building a space in the Correctional Facility? Shion's only guess was that it might be virus research-related, but then, Nezumi had insisted that No. 6 already had a cure created. What else could they be looking into?

"At the Municipal Hospital…" Fura started, then paused, swallowing hard. His face had swollen, especially around his lips, and it seemed he was having trouble speaking without spit escaping the corners of his mouth. Fura wiped his chin with the back of his hand, wincing slightly, and started again.

"A few months ago, several doctors and nurses were transferred out of the Municipal Hospital. All of them were top-rankers and very skilled. No one ever said where they were going or why. I only heard about it from a friend in the hospital. But there were no records."

"They had been erased?"

"I don't know. Maybe? But I… I don't think there was ever a transfer record to begin with. I never saw one and everything goes through me."

"And you never investigated why?"

Fura scowled at Shion like he had said something truly disgusting. "Of course not. It wasn't my business. If I needed to know, the records would have been there."

Of course. Fura would never jeopardize his position or his life by asking questions. To do such a thing was a death wish in No. 6.

Shion turned toward Nezumi. A faint breeze whistled through the open window, ruffling the hair that rested like soft ash over Nezumi's forehead and ears. They hadn't learned much, even if Shion had managed to get the man to speak to him.

"Sample," Fura muttered to himself.

Shion's attention snapped back to him. "Sample?"

"I just remembered. I've been seeing that word pop up in the Health and Hygiene Bureau's reports lately. 'Sample Collection Status.' "

"Samples of what?"

Fura shook his head. "But if it has to do with the Health and Hygiene Bureau, then…"

"It probably has to do with the project in the Correctional Facility," Shion finished.

Samples. A project that didn't exist. Dread crept into Shion's throat, numbing the base of his skull. For a moment the world consisted only of one word: Safu. He hoped to god she was not connected to whatever happened in the Correctional Facility basement.

"It seems like we've reached the end of this conversation," said Nezumi. He pushed off the wall and approached Shion and Fura, twirling his knife idly in his hand.

Fura plastered himself against the window, eyes fixated on the blade flashing in the hazy candlelight. "Wait a second, you… Y-you aren't going to k-kill me, are you?"

"Of course. We can't have you squealing to the Security Bureau when you get back."

"N-no. You can't! I told you everything I know, I—" Fura's gaze locked onto Shion, tears pricking the corners of his eyes again.

Shion rose to his feet. "Leave him be, Nezumi," he said. "We're not killing anyone. It's not necessary. Rikiga, will you start the car? You can take him as close to the gates as you can get, then let him drive home from there."

Rikiga shot a loaded look at Inukashi and hurried from the room again, without checking this time for a second approval.

Nezumi stopped spinning his knife and fixed Shion with a long, cold look. "You want to return him home, safe and sound."

"Yes. He's not going to tell anyone what happened."

"Did you forget how he called us filth and vermin? How he said he'd be doing the world a favor if he exterminated us? He's our enemy, Shion, of course he's going to snitch."

"I won't! I swear," bleated Fura.

"He won't," Shion agreed. He kept his gaze steady. Despite the hardness in Nezumi's face and the tension stretching across the dim room, Shion didn't feel like this was a fight. A challenge, more like. Nezumi's grey eyes said, Convince me.

"Fura-san couldn't tell anyone, even if he wanted to. No. 6 officials aren't allowed outside the walls except for urgent business. If Fura-san admitted he was out in West Block, for no apparent reason, and without permission, he would be in serious trouble. His life would be forfeit if the Security Bureau caught wind of it. Fura-san knows this. You know this, too, Nezumi."

Nezumi raised his chin and moved into Shion's space, close enough to kiss. Though Shion knew that the only affection Nezumi's current mood might deliver would be the kiss of death.

"Still parading around that half-assed sense of justice," Nezumi murmured. "You forget that our lives are on the line here. If you want to go off and die with your morals, go ahead, but don't drag the rest of us into the grave with you. You're in no position to decide what's 'necessary' or not. An enemy is an enemy, and we can't afford loose ends."

Shion half expected to feel Nezumi's knife slither along the side of his neck. Nezumi's sense of intimacy was closely intertwined with physical threats.

The knife never appeared, but the daggers in Nezumi's eyes were just as cutting. A shiver rippled down Shion's spine.

The landing creaked. Rikiga must have returned. Shion heard the man's voice a moment later, confirming it. "Car's heating...up…. Are you two still fighting? Seriously, Eve, lay off."

Nezumi stepped back and shrugged airily. "Who says we're fighting? Shion and I are just having a discussion between equals."

Shion turned back to Fura. "You can go home now, Fura-san. I'm sorry for the way you've been treated, but I really appreciate you sharing what you could."

"...Your name is Shion?"

"That's right."

Fura rubbed at his bandaged wrists, confusion deepening the lines in his face. "I remember… There was a report about a first-class criminal by that name. A fallen elite who poisoned his coworker and fled. Was that you?"

"Is that the story they circulated? They make me sound so devious." Shion adjusted the beanie on his head with a dry laugh.

He hoped his mother wasn't suffering too much due to the rumors. She already had enough to deal with running the bakery alone. But he knew from the messages from the mice that she was safe and well, and that was enough for him. He couldn't worry about her and Safu's safety, so he would have to trust that his mother was staying strong.

"You're different," Fura said. He squinted at Shion, as though viewing him from another angle might reveal shadows that he had missed. "The boy in the picture… He looked crazed. His eyes were wild. Violent. Not—not gentle like yours. You don't look similar at all."

"Yeah, well, that's information manipulation for you," Rikiga muttered. "I'm sure you're all too familiar with the concept."

Fura cut a look at him. "I've never tampered with information. I would never dirty my hands with lies like that. There's no reason to."

"Right," Inukashi drawled. "Just like you always tell your wife the truth about where you go when you're 'working late.' "

Fura chewed the air for a moment. "That's different; that's my business. I would never mess with the city's information. I release it exactly as I receive it."

"And you've never questioned whether the information that comes across your desk is the truth?" Rikiga said.

"Why would I? The city—"

"You said the boy you saw in the criminal report looked crazed," Rikiga cut in. He grasped Shion by the shoulders. "But here he is in the flesh. The truth's right in front of you, and as you said, it looks nothing like what No. 6 has led you to believe."

Fura didn't speak. His gaze flitted between Shion and Rikiga, then darted to Nezumi, still blending with the shadows at the edge of the room, and finally rested on Inukashi. His face trembled as he considered the new information.

After a long silence, he said, "You said you wanted information on the Correctional Facility."

Shion straightened. "Yes."

"You said you needed it to save your friend."

"Yes." Shion pulled away from Rikiga's hands and knelt before Fura again. "Do you know something that can help us?"

"If your friend was arrested as you said, and was taken to the Correctional Facility, then she's long gone…. The Correctional Facility is impenetrable. You can't really believe you can break her out. It's insane."

"We have to try. I won't give up on her, no matter how hard it seems."

A bead of sweat rolled down Fura's temple, mingling with the tear streaks and spit from his torture. A few droplets hit the floor, thunderous in the silence.

"I have the latest updates," he said, quietly, as though the whispering wind might carry his words back to prying ears. "I don't know anything about the new facility, but I have the latest on the rest of the Correctional Facility."

Excitement fluttered in Shion's chest like a flock of startled birds. "Thank you, Fura-san."

Inukashi wasted no time. They hopped off the bed, placed the white robotic mouse down before Fura, and shoved an electronic pen into the man's trembling fingers.

Inukashi gestured at the hologram that bloomed from the robot's back. "The red circles mark where the security devices I know about are. I think I got most of them, but—" They shrugged. "Add whatever I missed."

Fura pressed his lips together as he studied the hologram. He raised his hand and silently began pecking at the display with the electronic pen, and dragging faint green lines across the digital floors.

"That's all I know," Fura said when he was finished. He dropped the pen and let it roll away on the slant in the floor.

The security had more than tripled, and the number of cell blocks had shrunk by two-thirds. Shion leaned toward the hologram, his jaw locked tight. Every floor was outfitted with automatic barriers at the crux of each hallway, in case of a break out, or to contain an outbreak. If he was reading the diagram correctly, then once the barriers were triggered, they were designed to release a high-voltage electric current, which would fry anything caught between its walls.

"Fuck," Inukashi breathed. They bent over to stare at the galaxy of red dots and green lines.

"It's a fortress," Shion agreed.

"It's a place of holocaust." Nezumi rescued the electric pen from rolling out of the open door and strode back to the shocked company. "And one day, it'll become a magnificent monument to genocide."

"Genocide?" Shion twisted around. "How many have been killed there?"

"Present tense, not past, Shion." Nezumi gestured at the hologram. "The number of cell blocks have been scaled down, but they're still taking just as many prisoners. What does that tell you?"

Shion's cheeks pricked. "The prisoners don't stay long enough to need accommodation."

People were being disposed of before they even made it to the cells. Perhaps they never even made it to the Correctional Facility. The Deadlands were vast, and the creatures roaming it were a convenient excuse for a prisoner's disappearance.

Nezumi stood at Shion's side and looked down at Fura. "I'm curious. How do you know the security layout of the Correctional Facility so well?"

Fura stared at the floor. "I saw the schematics recently. It was in a top-secret file sent over last week."

"And why would such a top-secret file come across your desk? You said the Central Administration Bureau hardly ever works in concert with the Correctional Facility. So this file must have something to do with you specifically, something only top-rankers like yourself would be privy to. Am I right?"

Fura probed the inside of his cheek with his tongue. The corners of his eyes pinched and he immediately stopped. He must have aggravated the cut inside his mouth.

"Does it have to do with the Hunt?" asked Nezumi.

Inukashi and Rikiga went rigid at the word. Shion's stomach clenched as he studied Fura's fingers scratching noisily at the fabric of his pants. No one had bothered to explain exactly what 'the Hunt' was, but there was only one topic which made West Block's hardened citizens stiffen and go pale.

"Is there going to be a Hunt soon?" Nezumi asked again, taking a step closer.

Fura edged away toward the window. "It's called a Clean-up."

"Oh right." Nezumi chuckled darkly. "That's how you people see it. Just cleaning up the garbage that's built up outside your door. So when's this cleaning scheduled?"

"There's no set date. Sometime before the Holy Celebration."

"Nice," said Nezumi with a pleasant smile. "A little spring cleaning before the big day. That the idea?"

Shion trembled. The Hunt. Clean-up. The dark looks on his friends' faces and the guarded expression on Fura's. They can't mean…

But what else could it be but a culling? After the conversation they'd had tonight about secret facilities and samples, Shion wasn't sure if anything was sacred anymore. But he wouldn't ask aloud—this was a horror that Shion wasn't ready to hear confirmed.

Fura fisted his hands in the fabric of his pant legs and dared to meet Nezumi's eyes. "It's necessary. The population has grown too large. The violence has escalated in all quarters, and you should know as well as I that disease spreads faster in close quarters. The Clean-up is as much for your sake as it is for ours."

"Oh, well, thank you," Nezumi said, pressing a hand over his heart. "The Holy City takes such good care of its disadvantaged neighbors. Does the Clean-up committee take suggestions? I have a few competitors I would love for you to wipe off the face of the earth."

"I want to go home," Fura muttered and clambered to his feet. He swayed and had to grasp the window sill to steady himself. "You said you'd let me go. I want to leave now."

"Of course," Shion said. "Thank you, Fura-san. You can change your clothes, and then Rikiga-san will take you home."

He could feel Nezumi and Inukashi's displeasure rolling through the room like a cold snap, but Shion found it in him to be polite to the No. 6 official. Regardless of who this man was or the sins he had committed, he had given them valuable information. Dangerous information, which could make the difference between saving Safu and certain death. Shion would not let it go to waste.

Rikiga collected the clothes from the floor and led Fura out.

"Looks like Shion won this round," Inukashi said. "It's like what my Mum used to say: You get more scraps with tail wags than with teeth."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at. I don't speak dog."

"Aw, don't play coy, Nezumi." Inukashi laughed. "I know you're impressed with little Shion's results. I watched you the whole time; you couldn't take your eyes off him. He had that elite singing like a bird, when you could barely make him peep."

Nezumi sucked in a sharp breath, held it for a second, then seemed to decide it wasn't worth it. He turned to Shion and gestured at the hologram. "Memorize that schematic. Every floor, every sensor."

"Got it." Shion picked the white mouse from the floor and powered it down.

Nezumi snorted. "What? No whining? Pretty confident, are you?"

"Very. Safu's life depends on my becoming an expert on the Correctional Facility, and so do ours. I won't fail you."

The wind rattled through the open window, sending the candles into a frenzy. The wild amber glow flickered over Nezumi's face, and for a moment Shion was struck by how soft he looked. He was so young—they both were. Why had fate brought them to such a hard place so soon? For the first time, Shion truly understood what Nezumi meant when he said life wasn't fair.

"Stay close to me," Nezumi said, moving toward the door. "From now on, don't leave my sight. We don't know when the Hunt will happen, and if we get separated when it does, we'll never see each other again. I know I always say you won't survive a second without me, but this time I really mean it."

Shion gripped the robot mouse tightly and followed Nezumi out into the dark.