Not quite sure why I did this one... just kind of stared writing and this is what I ended up with... I know its rambling, very rambling infact, and is kind of weird, strange, and doesn't really have a purpose and I can understand why anyone will find this boring but... ah well...

Spoiler Alert: Chapter 50 and 51

Disclaimer: I do not own Nabari No Ou

There is a gaping hole in the fabric of the universe. A black hole that has swallowed something, no somebody, up leaving nothing in that person's place except a few scattered hearts that carry the fragments of that person's forgotten life.

A young boy feels the connecting thread to someone, a thread cut short and leading to places forgotten, erased. He desperately gazes at the string, unsure what to do, unsure what he did. Though no one says it out loud he's knows he's done something taboo, he's used something he should have never have used. He's done something, something that no one can remember. He is held down by a terrible feeling of guilt, of confusion, of loneliness.

And middle aged man clutches at the stump that used to be an arm. The pain burns through his body, but is fades in comparison to the agonizing hole in his own heart. There is something missing, someone missing. There was someone so close to him, who had somehow driven so close to his closed and callous heart. But who was it? What had he done for that mysterious person? It's painful to remember that there was someone close to you but to forget all together who that person was. Much more painful than the phantom pains of a lost limb.

A women sits at the table knitting, before suddenly stopping, looking down at her half finished muffler. She picks it up slowly, gently and gazes down at it. It's a white muffler, made of heavy and soft material, something that could keep anyone warm. But… why had she been making it? She set the muffler down cocking her head to the side. There was a promise wasn't there? To someone…. But whom? Something to do with "that world" wasn't it? Something to do with Miharu…The clock ticks away for a few seconds before the women smiles and shakes her head. Laughing quietly at herself, her mind is going with her age. She picks back up the knitting needles and continues. Surely Miharu will remember the promise she made.

A cat like girl suddenly stops, alert, the feeling so fresh, so clear it's unmistakable. A disturbance in the world, a quiver in the air, a feeling she knows. The Shinra Banshou. The feeling is keen and as suddenly as she feels it it's gone. But something is different, the world is different. Something has changed. The bird felt it to, flapping over head, glancing down at the girl their eyes locking and a mutual message that "I felt it" passing between them in wordless communication. It was used, and something was changed.

The list can go on and on, of the people affected by the change, a pink haired samurai who can't quite remember who exactly had saved him by pulling his young assistant out from deaths shadows. A man knowing there was someone he had taken in, there was something he had done, there was someone who had betrayed him and fled from him. Someone powerful, someone he had thought was for sure dead inside and wouldn't put up a fight. Where had his plan's gone wrong? An intelligent women and ex-Kairoshu member who knew for some reason her brother, and thus her as well, had fled from the Kairoshu, but not sure why. What had happened? What had been done against them? Why did she feel a hollow sensation she was sure she should remember, that was important? A young boy throwing a baseball up and down halfheartedly, separate from the world of Nabari and yet in a way connected to its secrets. A past haunts him and yet in one moment it's gone, only a strange feeling like a half forgotten dream remaining.

Memories erased. Not forgotten, but erased. And it was all his fault.

Miharu lay on the bed, head buried in the pillows. His eyelids drooped but he resisted sleep. The terrible memory of the last time he had awoken piercing through his conscious. The fear that had clutched his heart as he scrambled to remember, then realizing what he had done. The terrible thing he had done. This memory kept him awake, an irrational fear of what might happen when he awoke again pounded through him keeping him awake. Miharu lay, feeling hollow and empty. What had that person been to him? What was their friendship, how deep had they forged it, what happened and why, why didn't he remember? Why had he used the Shinra Banshou?

Was there a way to get these memories back?

Miharu's eye lids slowly slipped down, sleep beginning to claim him. But he was scared to sleep, unsure what would happen next if he fell asleep. He was supposed to be apathetic, but not he felt anything but. He was scared, alone, craving for the companionship of another. Craving to know what he had forgotten.

Hey. He thought sleepily to no one, or maybe to the void that had swallowed up his memories of "that person". Let us have good dreams…

That's it, I've finished rambling... for now xD

I've written a few more ramblings that I'll upload along with this story, and if I write any more rambles about Nabari No Ou (as it seems is the only thing I can do when it comes to writing Nabari No Ou fanfiction...) I'll upload it along with this one.