Touch the Horizon

Chapter Nine: Quite Musings

By: Light of the Firefly

OOOOO

Nanao ran. Block by city block, it was all a blur.

She shoved through the crowds, all the angry faces she pushed past hardly even registering. She narrowly missed traffic as she darted across streets.

Nothing would slow her down right now. She needed to get farther away.

She felt the spiritual pressures of him, and her new captain's, fading into the distance. And so she pushed on, wanting to not be able to feel either one of them. She needed to put some serious space between herself and the whole situation.

Her feet pounded against the pavement, nimble and agile as she pushed herself harder. It was crowded, but her quick reflexes had her easily avoiding obstacles.

It still wasn't a good enough distraction. She still felt the inverted gravity that pulled at her, pulling her back instead of toward the earth, becoming her back to what she ran from. The force of it clenched deep in her chest, twisting and yanking painfully, and everything in her cried out to turn back. To go back to him.

She never thought, after surviving his death, that turning away from him a second time could hurt even more.

Oh, how wrong she was.

She was racing through the suburbs now, on the outskirts of Karakura Town. Funny, she couldn't even remember how she got this far already. Her mind felt like it was unable to take in any new information for the time being.

But she had to get away, she had to put as much distance between herself and him as she could. Because heaven knew, she was too weak to turn away otherwise. Maybe the farther away she was from him, the easier it would be to keep her resolve to leave him alone. If she couldn't feel him anymore, maybe it would be easier.

Lies, she knew. She would always feel him, no matter where she was.

She clutched her books tightly to her chest, their solid weight reminding her that the whole thing had really happened. It was so easy to not believe it.

This neighborhood she found herself in now was barren, with empty buildings lining the street. There was construction equipment everywhere, yellow tape blocking off large areas, signs stating the future site of this and that. It was inconsequential, however. It was blissfully quiet and void of pedestrians. She wondered how far from the city she had traveled, and realized she didn't even care at this point. She couldn't feel his small amount of spiritual pressure anymore, and that was really all that mattered. It was helping, some.

She stumbled, her fake body failing her. Against her will, her legs slowed, she was unable to keep the pace up any longer.

Nanao fell against the building next to her, grasping at it with both hands to prevent her legs from giving out under her. Her damp forehead pressed to the rough surface and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Nanao-chan…"

She could hear that name, his name for her, echoing through her thoughts, spoken that way for the first time in thirty years. God, his voice. It was almost identical. It was too much. A pill too big to swallow.

She heard a keening whimper escape her lips, not even realizing she had made such a noise. Why did all this happen? How could fate be so cruel to her? What could she have possibly have done to deserve this sick joke?

The gigai couldn't hold up to her recent need for escape. Her muscles burned painfully, her lungs screaming for more oxygen than she was able to gulp in.

She let herself fall to her knees, her head throbbing painfully in reminder of her recent injury. She turned and leaned heavily against the building, letting her head fall back against it. Staring up into the grey sky overhead, she felt so alone suddenly.

She turned her focus to the physical discomfort of her body at the moment, as it was doing a fine job of capturing her attention right now. She had pushed the gigai too hard with her marathon sprint she just performed. She could feel her muscles cramping now, but it was a welcome shift away from her broken heart, which burned an aching hole inside of her.

She had made the right decision, Nanao told herself. He was fine, he was alive and he would live a happy life here. It was what she wanted, for him to just be alive again. It didn't matter if she was a part of that or not. Not really. She wasn't that selfish, she just wanted him to exist somewhere. And now, he did.

She knew that walking away from him was what should happen, it was the option a logical person would make. And she had led her life guided by unobscured logic and firm rules. She had always looked at the facts and made her decisions by them.

Except when it had come to Captain Kyouraku, of course. He had always been the most illogical, irresponsible, ridiculous, unorganized part of her life. Before him, she had stood alone, facing the world with squared shoulders and apart from others entirely. And it had worked for her, it was who she was. It all worked nicely, like a well oiled machine.

Then he had entered her life. And everything changed, never to be the same again.

He had split her erected walls in half, barged in, and firmly planted his pink, flowery self in her neat black and white world. He had somehow, during that process, rooted himself so deep inside of her that she hardly knew where she ended and he began anymore. She would never be rid of him, even if he were dead or a world apart. He was just too much a part of her.

Over the years, he had driven her to new heights of anger, had made her blush shades of red that she never knew she could, had pushed all her buttons just to see her reaction, had invaded her privacy on so many occasions that she just gave up locking the door to her home, frequently had her so furious she could have happily strangled him. He ignored all of her pleas for alone time, refused to listen when she demanded he give her space, couldn't keep his roaming hands to himself if all of Soul Society depended on it, and drove her absolutely bat shit crazy.

But she had loved him for it. All of it. Every insane, stupid quirk of his was just another reason she was so attached to him. He had been the perfect balance to her ways, the counterpart to her orderly life.

He was what she would have never wished for herself in a million years, but he had been exactly what she had needed.

How was she going to ignore the fact that he was alive? How could she possibly manage to do that? To go back to pretending he was gone and continue mourning a man who was alive and breathing here in the Real World? Could she do it?

The spark she had seen in his new dark eyes today reminded her now of his content here. She could do it, if for no other reason but to give him a chance to live a life unburdened by a soldier's reality. She had never seen him so…alive before. So unobstructed by dark memories and not held down by chains of his past. He deserved this ignorance.

Nanao wasn't sure when she had started crying again, maybe she had never stopped. But she noticed suddenly how hard it was to breath around her sobs.

Her body leaned back heavily against the cold stone of the building, her knees burned a little from scraping against the sidewalk when she collapsed here. Apparently these jeans weren't as tough as they felt against her skin.

She pulled her legs up and buried her face into her hands, unable to stop the tears now that they had started. She cried hard, it wracked her whole body with the force of her breakdown.

Footsteps drew closer to where she sat. Nanao lifted her watery eyes when Renji knelt down next to her, so that he was face to face with her. She stared into his eyes silently, his lips were twisted into a frown.

She wondered briefly how she must look to her captain, but there was nothing to be done for it right now. There was a witness here to her falling apart, and she didn't have the strength to get herself together.

He looked over her tear streaked face, and his frown grew deeper.

She turned her head down to avoid his gaze, closing her eyes again, and she started crying even harder.

This was humiliating, the perfect end to the emotional rollercoaster ride she was riding today. Nanao wished she could just turn the whole weekend back and never have set foot in the Real World.

She felt the weight of thick arms gathering her to his warm body, and the ground fell away as she was lifted easily.

Nanao didn't fight it, she slumped into her captain willingly. She couldn't fight anymore right now even if she wanted to, exhaustion took hold of her.

Renji didn't ask any questions either, but he really didn't need to. He cradled her to him, and started back down the way he had come. Her face buried against his neck, her small fists clenched in his clothing. She clutched a few books between their bodies that poked him with their sharp corners, but he wasn't paying too much attention. His thoughts were strangely single minded right now. He wanted to get her back and get her calmed down.

He had followed her signature from the hospital, and found her here in the industrial park. He didn't know how she had gotten this far from town that fast, but it didn't really matter right now.

He kept walking, and her crying slowly subsided. He could feel the warm, even breaths against his skin, and tightened his hold on her slightly.

She wouldn't raise her head even when she was calm enough to speak, keeping her face hidden still. He knew she was most likely embarrassed, so he allowed her to her false privacy right now. He had a feeling she didn't fall apart like this often, and most likely never had witnesses for such events.

The silence stretched, but it wasn't an uncomfortable one. He wouldn't be the first to speak, she would when she was ready.

Renji didn't know what had happened to upset her so bad, or what had been said, but he was eerily calm about it. His anger at Captain Kyouraku for being the cause of this situation simmered like white hot embers, not the raging flame his temper usually took up. He felt Zabimaru pace restlessly deep inside of him, tail whipping about in agitation.

He held himself back, though, this was no time for such things. Nanao didn't need any outbursts right now, or insults and accusations. She just needed to know he was here and would take care of her, he decided.

Urahara's shop came into view, and his pace slowed a little. She turned her head slightly to glance at the building before returning to tucking herself against him. She was so still in his arms suddenly, seemingly limp.

"Are we going back?" She asked hoarsely, her voice startled him in the silence.

"If you want to. If not, we can stay here a while." He said, stopping several paces from the shop, waiting for her answer. He set her on her feet, and she kept her eyes downcast in front of him. The sun was setting now, casting the surroundings in shadows. He patiently waited, pleased that she had calmed down a good bit finally.

There was a moment when Nanao let the quiet stretch, not needing to think over the options though. Her mind was made up, and conveniently someone else could take responsibility of removing her from the world in which her previous captain was. She didn't have to fight her body to leave him, she could just let Renji take care of that right now. It was better this way, really, because she figured she would have turned back eventually if he hadn't showed up.

"Please, get us out of here." She asked quietly, her voice sounding strange to his ears. There was a tone of desperation that didn't fit with the image of his lieutenant he had. She was a strong woman, solid and precise, a little bit cold and distant. It was the image everyone most likely had of Ise Nanao.

And Renji was having a hard time realizing this soft, fragile girl was the same person. It made his protective instincts fire up automatically, as it proved just how upset she was.

He didn't say anything more, just started toward the shop again, Nanao at his side.

She was a mess, and he was taking her home.

It was the least he could do.

OOOOO

Nanao settled against the couch in her living room, as Renji handed her a steaming cup of tea.

"Thank you." She managed to whisper. He turned and walked to the window. The silence in the air was heavy.

She cradled the mug in her hands, letting the warmth seep into her palms. She felt so cold since their return.

Glancing at the redhead, who stared out her window with his back turned to her and hands on his hips, she wondered what he was thinking.

They hadn't spoken since her request to come back to Soul Society. She had expected questioning, as he had a right to know what his lieutenant was acting so out of sorts over. But he somehow kept the curiosity to himself, and she was thankful for it.

They had walked into Urahara's Shop, and Renji had only a passing acknowledgment of the other man before they returned their gigais and promptly left. Nanao had thought the older previous captain didn't seem surprised by the fact that she was red-eyed and clearly upset, or by Renji's tightened facial features. In fact he had seemed a little too knowing to her perceptive gaze at the time. Nanao made a mental note to herself to ask Urahara about this later on.

Her thoughts turned then to Renji bringing her back from where she had fell after she ran away. It had been a surprising welcome, having his shoulder to cry on. She didn't usually lean on people like that, but the human contact had been what she had needed at the time. She had let the tears pour out until they stopped, and he had remained solid and unjudging against her as she did so.

She thought maybe she pegged him wrong years ago. He wasn't quite a hot tempered kid who she was forced to work with to her anymore. He had been through his fair share of hardships, of loss and hurt. She had seen it in his eyes tonight. He dealt with the situation as if he had done so in the past and knew what needed to be done. His silent acceptance and getting her out of there had been exactly what needed to be done.

Taking a hesitant sip of the hot liquid, she let out a sigh. She felt the burn as it traveled down her throat, spreading the warmth over her chill.

"I owe you some explanations." She stated, and he glanced over his shoulder at her. She didn't meet his eye, though. She was still embarrassed about the whole night.

"When your ready, Ise." He said, sounding tired to her ears.

She felt a pang of guilt for the search he had done for her when she was missing, and the chase she had given him. She was acting awful, she knew, and wondered how much rest he had this weekend.

Renji, for his part, didn't want to push her. She was back to her more normal behaviors now, and he was glad for it. Her tears had bothered him a great deal more than he could understand. When she had first looked up at him on the sidewalk, it about broke his heart. He had seen sadness on people before, but her's was so deep rooted he wondered if she had always been carrying it with her, not letting the world see it often.

He really should have attempted to get to know her better a long time ago, he thought bitterly. As far as he knew, she didn't socialize at all, preferring to keep to herself. He wondered if she even had anyone at the compound she called a friend. She needed someone to be there for her, everyone did. It was what made life a little easier, knowing you have people to care for, and who care for you in return. He decided then that he wouldn't leave her to her own devises anymore, it just wasn't right to let someone remain so alone.

Nanao watched his stiff posture, figuring now was as good of a time as any to tell him what was going on. She ran her tongue over her dry lips, and leaned back into the cushions.

She was talking before she realized the words had left her mouth.

OOOOO

Sunrise, Monday morning.

It was cold this early as he walked the familiar path to work, and he strongly felt the absence of a heavy coat. Or something of similar weight across his shoulders to bar off the biting winds.

He frequently found himself reaching for the lapels to said missing item many times through out his life, only to realize that he had no such thing on. It was crazy, but it was a habit he couldn't quite rid himself of, this ghost of a coat.

The oddity was, however, that he always wished like hell he had it. It was like missing an article of clothing that never existed. Was that even possible?

He had bought jackets over the years of all sizes and lengths to try to ward off the strange feeling, but they never quite fit the way he expected. There was a particular quality to the missing thing that he couldn't quite place, a certain feel he couldn't recreate with any that he bought. Like an old beat up pair of shoes that were so comfortable you couldn't imagine replacing them. The only problem was, he has never even owned this thing that he was feeling the loss of.

He shivered slightly, sticking his free hand into the pocket of his slacks, the other tucking around the book he carried. He was halfway to his destination already, he could ignore the chilly air for a little while longer. He was certainly used to it.

It turned out that he frequently left his home without a jacket of any sort, as they all felt wrong and ended up being more uncomfortable than serving any good purpose to him. What he wanted couldn't be matched by anything he tries on, so he leaves them all behind and braves the cold without.

Stupid ghost coat.

He had a nickname for these oddities that plagued his life. He referred to them as his phantom pains.

His older sister had used the term once and it somehow fit perfectly with his strange compulsions. His sister was a nurse, and had joked that he suffered from phantom pains when he tried to describe one of his 'missing nameless items' with her. That was several years ago. He later in life learned the meaning to the term.

Apparently when someone looses a body part, such as an arm or leg, they continue to feel sensations from the missing limb for the rest of their lives. Something to do with the brain not accepting the loss, and continues firing off messages to the missing nerves, causing pains or other feelings. Supposedly the patients who suffer from this syndrome can find no relief from the sensations. Medications and therapy don't touch it, because it was ultimately all in their heads.

When he had this conversation with his sister, she had said to him then, "Or maybe your just nuts, baby brother."

A smile crossed his features at the memory, as it somehow seemed to make more sense than any other explanation. He had to agree with her to a point, as several times through out his life he had questioned his sanity. Mostly when he looked over a completed painting he had done with his own hands, and was shocked at the outcome. They never turned out like he wanted, instead a whole new image always emerges. As if his imagination takes over, plucking these images from some long forgotten dream of his.

Because ultimately, the completed works always ring a bell to his memory. Some are terrifying in their violence, and some are downright breathtaking in their clarity. But he can explain his art to no one when asked, as he has no idea where he even gets the inspiration.

He supposed everyone had their strange quirks. But he certainly had more than a few of them. The paintings and missing jacket issues were literally few of many.

All his life things were out of place, and there was always the sense of stuff missing. It was silly things, and he could never explain any rhyme or reason for them.

Like that his right side should be weighted more, as if he were forgetting to carry something very important. He caught his hand travel to his right hip frequently, as if to rest against something that should sit at his belt. But of course there is no such thing, and he only realizes his actions when his hand falls through the empty air.

And god, the hat situation was as bad as the coats, so he wore nothing on his head as well. He didn't even want to get started on that frustrating ordeal.

He found himself staring into a mirror frequently, searching a face that was almost unfamiliar to him. He always expected to see a face slightly different than his own. The early stages of split personality disorder, perhaps? He mused to himself, only half finding humor in the thought.

He wondered if other people felt just as strange, but has never broached the subject. He didn't want to call anymore attention to the matters than necessary.

He had always felt he was lacking some fundamental element he couldn't figure out. It was all hard to explain, and aside from that one conversation with his sister years ago, he kept it to himself. How could you really tell someone that your missing things, when you weren't even sure what they were after all?

His thoughts turned back to the girl, for the hundredth time already this morning. Another frustrating matter, for sure.

She had said some strange things, like forgiving him for whatever it was, but he mostly figured she was still recovering from her bump on the head. But it seemed important somehow. Like hearing her words made him feel a little knot inside him loosen up a bit. Somehow, her words made sense to him, and it pleased him that he earned her forgiveness. The whole thing was just weird, really. Sanity was certainly questionable.

Her violet eyes on his were burned into his memory, no matter how often he tried to shake her from his mind. Every time he closed his lids to sleep last night, he pictured her lovely face, and those sharp eyes. He barley slept a few hours, truth be told.

He knew himself well enough to know it was no simple attraction he had to her, he had enough experience in the field of women to know the difference. It was much more complicated than that.

It was a puzzle piece falling into place, a perfect fit that made sense in the whole picture. But he couldn't seem to describe what any of it was, really, even to himself. He was so confused, today more so than yesterday.

Today he had time to think about it, but yesterday he had only her in the room with him to think about. Nothing else really seemed to sink in at that time. He remembered sitting on her hospital bed, watching her features as she slept while he waited for her to come to, and felt such a strong sense of déjà vu in that moment it had taken his breath away. The whole thing was like a reenactments of another moment of his life, but it was brief and forgotten to him. The girl, the hospital, waiting for her to open her eyes. All of it. He had felt with certainty he had done that before. But the feeling had passed just as quickly.

Nanao-chan…

He still couldn't come up with any half decent reason behind the name he had blurted out. He wondered what her real name was.

Being around her had felt like something deep inside of him had exhaled in relief. He had felt content, finally, while sitting by her side. Like things made a little more sense with her around, things were just a bit more clear. She had sharpened his focus, and it was familiar somehow.

Hell, everything about her was familiar. Even the slightest gestures she had, all of it was familiar. He could almost have guessed perfectly what her next movement or words would be while they sat in that room together. It was all frighteningly predictable, and he let out a heavy sigh. His breath puffed in the cold air, reminding him to move a bit faster as it was damn chilly. His skin goosed up in response and he shivered. It only kept his attention for a few passing seconds before her image sprung back into his thoughts.

Her eyes…god, he was bewitched.

He shook his head at his own ridiculousness. Maybe he was a little bit crazy. Surely normal people didn't react to strangers like he had.

The building came into view now, he spared his watch a glance, pleased that he had left a little earlier today. That alone spoke volumes of how badly he wanted to meet the girl again. He always detested being awake at this hour. He valued his sleep tremendously. Getting up a earlier than usual took a force of nature, but he had done it with the intentions of making a stop before heading in to start his day.

Running an absent hand through his wind mused hair, he reached for the door knob in front of him. He felt his heartbeat pick up a notch. Would she maybe be here today, he wondered?

Of course his luck would never be so good, she had only just disappeared last night. It was still much too early for the library to even have any customers just yet. He forcefully shoved his run away thoughts back into order, and opened the door. He had an image as a perfectly normal adult to uphold here, after all.

A small, old fashioned bell chimed cheerfully over his head, as he stepped through the familiar doors of the Karakura University Library. He had graduated years ago with an art degree, and gone on to teaching here even, but his minor had been Japanese history. So a great deal of his own college years had been spent in here, roaming these isles and the endless shelves of books. He hadn't been in the library in a while, as he was usually tied up with his job in the main building, but it felt a little like home in here.

Inhaling deeply the memory-sparking scent of paper and wood polish that had always been part of the library, he smiled.

Yes, he knew this place well. And conveniently, the librarian had always been the same soft spoken man, and the two always got along beautifully. Convenient, indeed. He could canoodle some information from him.

The small, older man in question was behind the counter, straightening things up to start the day, and the large lobby area was bare, no students having arrived yet. He looked over when the bell announced an arrival.

"My good Professor, always wonderful to see you." The smile he gave the other man was genuine, having known each other for many years now.

"And you as well, how's the wife?"

"Oh, she's got a bout of the cold right now, I'm afraid." He shook his head, coming to stand across from the younger man. "But otherwise, all is well. What can I do for you so early in your day?"

"I have a mystery I could use some help with." He grinned, raising the book to the older man's waiting hand.

The man pulled the glasses down from where they rested on his head and peered down at the title.

"Ah, yes, this was only checked out the other day. Did you find it somewhere? Perhaps the young lady lost it."

He grinned wider, so the old man remembered her, then.

"Yes, well, I seemed to have accidentally ended up with it. Could you tell me anything about the girl? I didn't even catch her name."

"A crush, professor?" He chuckled, setting the book down. "She's too smart for your courting antics."

"My courting antics? They've never failed me before!" He laughed.

"No, I suppose they wouldn't." Pushing his glassed back to rest on top his head, he smiled fondly at the younger man. "But this one is a bit too intelligent for such methods to work. She'll see right through them."

"You know her well then?" His voice sounded hopeful, but he couldn't help it.

"No, not at all, actually. First time I saw her was the day she checked out those books. She spent hours here reading, though. You should have seen the line up she had, it was pretty high IQ kind of material."

"Hm. Did you catch her name, then?"

"If I didn't know you better, I would say this is a bit out of regulation to disclose this stuff." His voice laced with humor, as he picked the book back up.

"I just…" He was at a loss for any good explanation for the librarian, so he simply shut his mouth and gave his best look of defeat, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"Yes, I can see that." The old man agreed, winking. He ran the bar code off the book over the computer, her name popping up on the screen.

"Ah, yes. Ise Nanao, the poor girl didn't know her address just yet. New to the area, I believe."

A new sense of shock ran down him. Of course he knew the last name, the redhead had been calling her by it.

But how in the hell had he pulled her first name out of thin air?

"Thank you." He managed, blinking away his stunned sense of surprise. "If I left you a message, would you see that she gets it when she brings the other books back?"

The old man chuckled, seemingly delighted to play a part in this.

"Of course. Do you need to even ask?"

OOOOO

By the time he left the library, he was in no better shape. His surprise at learning her name left him feeling a little spooked, in all honesty.

Ise Nanao.

Yes, he somehow had the feeling he knew her name from the moment he saw her across the street.

Worse yet, the phantom pains were in high gear, but it was no hat or coat, or any material item his body itched to acknowledge.

The sensation of loss was at his side this time. Where a small framed woman should be walking, fluid and graceful, matching his stride. He could almost feel her there, as if her very essence was easy to pick up in the air. He knew without knowing that she was the most important of the things he had been missing all his life.

But, in reality, he was alone walking himself to his office. He had to remind himself to get his head on straight before entering the classroom.

Smiling all the same, he had found a name to his missing limb, at least.

Ise Nanao.

His Nanao-chan.

OOOOO

Yeah, first half of this I know Nanao seemed like the damsel in distress, but I let the stories write themselves and that's where it landed :D

Also, she's dealt with a lot here, eh? She deserved a breakdown.

And a smoking hot young man to take care of her, couldn't we all be so lucky?

And so, my extreme gratitude to the reviewers of the previous chapter for lighting a fire under my ass. In all honesty, I was surprised by the response I've received for this story. I'm very happy those of you who commented are tangled up in it, and I'll try hard to please.

Last note, forgive any spelling/grammar mistakes. English is not my first language, neither is Japanese, and I swear the spellchecker on my Microsoft office is sabotaging me severely. So, there are several goofs in all my stories, but they mostly can't be helped. ^_^

Hopefully, you can still catch the jist of what I'm trying to write when the errors are there.

Thanks again!