You promise me the sky

Then toss me like a stone.

You wrap me in your arms

And chill me to the bone.

- "In Pieces" by Linkin Park

While Hanatarou spoke most often of missing his friends, there were other absences that weighed heavily upon him. Little things he had often taken for granted in the past. He missed the feeling of warmth, whether from the sun or a fire or the body of another living creature. There was no sun in Hisa's realm, no day or night, only the endless opaque fog that kept him constantly shivering. He missed food, and the feeling of being happily sated after a warm meal. He felt no hunger here, but that lack of sensation was almost as bad as being constantly starving. He missed the comfort of his bed and the wonderful security of curling up beneath his blankets after a fulfilling day of hard work, knowing another one awaited him tomorrow. There was nothing to be accomplished here, nothing to feel satisfied about doing. He could only exist and maintain his sanity as best he could.

He even missed color. This place seemed to drain the vitality from everything beneath its sky. Only Hisa's vibrant skin and eyes remained bright. Hanatarou's own skin seemed to have taken on the non-color of the fog. The eyes in his reflection were gray and dull, not the clear, pale blue he remembered them to be. Once he'd cut himself tripping over a protruding rock and washed his bleeding hand in the water. The crimson cloud of blood had been whisked away instantly by some phantom current, as if it was unwelcome in such a lifeless place. Afterwards Hanatarou had learned just how weak his spirit energy was in this place. It had taken him nearly ten minutes to heal that tiny cut. From then on he was much more careful.

Often he wondered how long he'd been here, and considered scratching lines into the rock for every estimated day from that point on. It occurred to him, though, that he might eventually look upon all the lines he had accumulated and realize how hopeless it was to imagine that he would ever wake up. So he made no lines.

He'd found a few island, bigger than the first and covered in sparse grass. There was a curious structure in the middle of it; a shallow stone bowl sunken into the ground, about as big across as the length of his arm. Embedded in front of it was a stone panel engraved with a worn kanji he couldn't read. The bowl seemed to serve no purpose he could see, so he left it alone. Around the edge of the island bloomed a few sad water lilies, standing like frail sentinels. He sat next to them now, his eyes on his toes curled just above the edge of the water. Idly he wondered what his last meal had been, and whom he had last spoken to. It had probably been one of his squadmates, possibly the person he had sat next to during that last meal. He could not recall, and that scared him. He'd already admitted his fears of waking up to the faces of people he'd forgotten, but what about all the other things he knew? All his medical knowledge and his memories of Soul Society's layout? Quickly he ran through sewer routes, the names of healing spells, what his room had looked like. To his relief, it all came easily. But what was to stop him from forgetting all of that? He would need to refresh himself every day. Hisa would help him with that, wouldn't it? Except he had no idea where Hisa was. It had disappeared again after he'd run away from it. Sometimes he caught glimpses of it on the edge of his vision. He wondered what it was waiting for. He'd already shouted his apologies into the fog, hoping in vain that it would forgive him and come back. His hallucinations weren't as bad any more. He could ignore them as long as he looked away as soon as they began showing up. Frightened as he'd been the last time, he missed Hisa. It was the only companion he had here, and he'd messed up again and scared it off…

"Do you know what this is?"

Hanatarou's breath caught in his throat as he looked back over his shoulder. Hisa. Hisa was there. Had it forgiven him? Before he could say anything, it repeated its question.

"Do you know. What this is." It accentuated its words by tapping its tail on the lip of the stone bowl. Mutely, Hanatarou shook his head.

"Aha… I thought so." It slowly traced the bowl's circumference. Hanatarou's eyes followed. "I'm surprised it has taken you so long to find it. It is a very important thing, you see…"

"It's a bowl…"

"And do you know what goes in the bowl, Hana?"

"Uh…" What did it want him to say? Was it a trick question? Would Hisa disappear again if he answered it wrong? It might be best to just answer honestly. "I don't know… Hisa, if I offended you in any way the last time I saw you, then-"

The spirit held up a paw, silencing his spewed apology. "This bowl is only filled when you make use of your zanpakuto… when you absorb the wounds of others. I drink from it… But now it is empty…" It gazed wistfully at the bowl for a moment, and then looked up sharply. "Hana… there are things you miss, aren't there?"

"Ah, well… yes, but it's nothing too important… I've already talked enough about missing other people." He hesitated. Maybe now was a good time to ask. "Hisa, if you wouldn't mind, do you think we could-"

"Because I miss things too, Hana." The spirit interrupted him again. "Have you ever thought of that? You are not the only one suffering from this…"

Hanatarou was speechless. To be honest, he really hadn't considered what Hisa might be feeling, let alone think that it might be suffering. No wonder it was avoiding him. How could he have been so insensitive? He'd spent so much time worrying about only himself and what was going to happen to him, that he hadn't thought of his spirit at all. "Hisa… I'm… I shouldn't have run away from you. I, uh…" He looked away, ashamed that he couldn't think of something more apologetic to say. "I promise I'll stay with you this time… I'm really sorry… If there's anything I can do to make up for it, somehow…"

"Hanaaa…" Hisa's tail cupped his chin and lifted his head so their eyes could meet. "It is not all your fault… I should have said something. Do not blame yourself…"

"B-but…" He felt like crying. How could he not blame himself? It was his fault for being so thoughtless! "I'm sorry, Hisa…"

"I expect that you are. But I know something that will make you feel better…"

"You do?"

"Yes… Remember I told you there were certain things I missed? You see…" It glanced over at the stone bowl. "I miss drinking from my well. If you cannot use your zanpakuto, I cannot drink. What I have in mind will be a poor substitute, but it will have to do, and you will be able to give something back to me…"

"Ah, okay… so what do you need me to do?" Hanatarou asked, unsure where Hisa was going with this. It wanted a drink? It had an entire lake to sip from, though whatever it was that filled the stone bowl was probably more potent than water.

"You don't need to do anything…" Hisa said quietly, speaking as if it were addressing a particularly dull child. "Simply put your arm out and hold still…"

Hanatarou hesitated, knowing now what was coming. If this was the only way to make Hisa happy, he would oblige. He swallowed, apprehensive, and held his arm out in front of him with the sleeve pulled back to his elbow. Would Hisa mind if he closed his eyes? Hopefully not. He couldn't help wincing as Hisa's sharp claws opened long slits in his flesh, sliding from his elbow to his wrist. The pain was soon joined by a numb, tingling sensation, as if a section of his skin had fallen asleep. The numbness traveled up the cuts, covering up their sting. He bit his lower lip and tried to blot out what was happening.

It took longer than expected for Hisa to finish. Even when he suspected the spirit was done, Hanatarou kept his eyes closed. He'd bitten into his lip and now it was bleeding too, the drops drying itchy on his chin. He reached up to wipe them away with his unhurt hand, but before he could he felt something cold and rough press itself to his mouth, wiping away the blood on his lips. Surprised by the unpleasant sensation he scrambled back, rubbing his mouth with his sleeve. When he opened his eyes, Hisa was once again nowhere in sight.

He ran his sleeve across his mouth again, unable to rid himself of that disgusting feeling of Hisa's tongue on his face. At least it had healed his lip for him. Now the spirit was gone again, but Hanatarou had a feeling it would come back. He had done something nice for it, given something back to it in belated thanks for letting him stay here. When he saw it next he would tell it about his ideas to preserve his memories, and it would help him. He was sure of it.

--

"Isane-fukutaichio? What are you doing out here with Yamada-san?"

Isane looked up at her captain. She was seated on the front steps of the division office, Hanatarou's limp body in her arms.

"Taicho…" She held him a little closer, as if fearful that Unohana would snatch him from her. "I… I wanted to take him outside, while it was still warm. He's so terribly pale…"

Unohana frowned slightly, concerned. Isane had been acting strangely lately. She seemed distracted and had even gone so far as to neglect the paperwork she'd been assigned, though she'd finished it later after many apologies. "I realize that, but you do understand the risks of doing this, don't you? If he were to stop breathing suddenly, we might not be able to get him hooked back up to his breathing tube in time."

"I know…" Isane admitted, standing. "I'm being foolish… It just doesn't seem like it would benefit his health at all to stay in that dark room all the time, with no fresh air or light…"

"Isane-fukutaicho, please be rational." Unohana took the tall lieutenant by the elbow and began to lead her back inside. "It's gotten late, and it's no longer warm out here. Have you even looked at Yamada-san since you brought him out?"

Isane peered down at the boy in her arms, shifting his insubstantial weight so she could get a better look at his face. His lips and fingers were slightly blue, and his body was shivering in an unconscious attempt to keep itself warm. Isane stared at him for a moment before letting out a loud sob and hugging him to her tightly.

"I'm sorry Hanatarou!" She wailed. "I'm… I'm not doing a very good job, am I?"

Unohana calmly removed Hanatarou from her hysterical lieutenant's arms and began carrying him toward his room. Isane followed, still sobbing. "I don't know what I was thinking! Taking you out into the cold night… I'm not worthy to be the vice-captain of the healing division if I make mistakes like that!"

"Isane-fukutaicho." Her captain's firm voice brought her back. "I order you to calm down. It would not be a good idea for our other patients to see you in this state. They may think something is wrong, and they will become worried."

Isane sniffed loudly and nodded. "Forgive me, taicho… I don't know what's gotten into me lately…"

"I forgive you. Now please, go get some rest. I will see to it that Yamada-san is taken care of."

"Of course, taicho…" She gave the unconscious boy in Unohana's arms a last solemn look before heading off to her own quarters. When she was out of sight, Unohana placed Hanatarou back in his own bed, replaced his breathing and feeding tubes, and tucked his blankets back over his body. Sighing, she brushed his dark bangs away from his face.

"I hope you are sleeping peacefully, Yamada-san… I know how much you dislike being the cause of conflict, so it would be better to think that you are unaware of what goes on around you. But if you are... please, try to wake soon."