She sat there in the hospital bed. Again. All over again. Her happiness, it had been so beautiful, so grand and wonderful. She was sitting up, legs straight out, hands in her lap as she stared forward with blank mollified periwinkle eyes, a single tear lining her water line before it spills over onto her right cheek. Why her? Why her happiness? She felt her throat begin to tighten up as her thick bottom lip quivered. She had seen. His face, his face carved into her memories, his tan skin, stormy purple hair, his golden eyes... Eyes that showed so much love, so much understanding... She would never have it. He was a figment of her imagination. Their life together, an illusion. Children, his children, how happy she had been once. Once.

Alone.

She was alone again. One of her worst fears. No family. No friends. No one. Alone, the worst word in the human language. Murder couldn't hold a candle to it, and hell was only a poor synonym. Lonely. All by her lonesome. What was this? Was this her fate? How cruel it had been to her. To give her happiness, then rip it away with sickened greedy hands. Her chest hurt. Why did it hurt? Why did it hurt like that? Did it hurt for him? No, how could it hurt from something so unreal? Why did she love it so much? The pain. Pain gave her a way to tell that she was real, but the pain she had experienced in her dream, losing herself with him, how he took her for the first time. That had hurt, even though he was as gentle as possible, but that pain had not been true, it had not actually existed. How could her mind play a trick like that on her?

Why? Why all of this phantom emotion? Why did getting struck by lightning cause that effect? Why was she crying? She was crying? She didn't understand her sobbing. To be sad over something that never existed. She was in love with a dream, something so unobtainable, something; that just like the grains of sand on the beach slipped from her fingers into the ocean's shore. She let out a long soft keening noise, long strands of blonde hair falling over her shoulder and into her face as she slouched, shuddering in silent mourning.

"Take this kiss upon the brow, and, in parting from you now, thus much let me avow-..." She sniffled her voice so soft, softer and quieter than that of a hatchling bird's downy breast. "You are not wrong, who deem that my days have been a dream; yet if hope has flown away... In a night, or in a day... In a vision, or in none, is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream."

She inhaled loudly, she felt like she was sinking, that sinking feeling all over again, fear and anxiety clawing it's mangy talons deep into her ribs, stealing her breath away with it's phantom hands wrapped, wrapped tightly around her neck as she repeated a poem she had heard once, once a long time ago when she was but a young child. "I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore... And I hold within my hand... Grains of the golden sand-... How few, yet how they creep through my fingers to the deep, while I weep- while I weep..."

She began to sob louder now, torn between insanity and reality, "O God! Can I not grasp them with a tighter clasp? O God! Can I not save one from the pitiless wave? ... Is all that we see or seem... But a dream within a dream?"

She let the last words hang in the air, as if she were waiting for some response. No one was there. She could feel it. She could feel how lonely she truly was. No one. No one loved her. She would be lonely. Broken, she was just a broken girl, thrown away by the immature child fate.

She blinked, thick full bodied lashes coming together to conceal such light eyes, such blind eyes, such sad eyes. The hospital room was cold like always, the air smelled so clean it nearly burnt her nose. She had gotten the nurse to bring her real clothes, so now she lay with her legs under the hospital blanket. She was wearing a dark purple Ao Dai, it's long sleeves covering both arms, the white leggings covering her legs fully. It felt good to be somewhere familiar, a hospital... It was her only home. Her mother was dead, and the only home she had known was her shared bedroom with him. It had been her fortress, if she was sad, she could lay in his arms, and being with him took the pain away, if she was lonely, all she had needed to do was say his name and he would be there for her to talk to.

Oh god, she felt it well up again, inside her, deep inside her. The crushing feeling of loneliness. It took her breath away, to have something, to have and feel happiness, then to suddenly not have it. She was mourning over the loss of a dream. Raising a pale hand to her face, she wiped the tears away, sniffling and clearing her throat.

"How strange when an illusion dies, it's as though you've lost a child whom you've cherished and protected against the wilds of the storms and hurts in this frightening world."

"Your child is dead." She said softly laughing.

Some news of his mother being in the hospital. Nagare honestly didn't care, he was never one to care about his parents, they weren't willing guardians of him when he was a child, and they no longer loved him now that he was out of their nest. But still, he found himself willed to go see her, to make sure she was okay. When he had heard the news, he was just casually sitting in his living room, reading a book. A book about bats, the only animal that truly appealed to him. After his summoning contract with them, he had a spiked interest..so, he bought the book, which was a hearty 1,270 pages, and was now at page 849. There were plenty of things he had already learned from it, but at this point, it was becoming repetitive. Only so many things about bats that a book can tell you, he supposed. But that was not connected to the situation at hand, it was merely what he was doing. He specifically remembered the frantic pounding on his door that alerted him, and his father, Tamotsu, who hadn't even bothered to come see him since he moved to his own place, burst in.

Nagare was surprised that Tamotsu was there, and just kind of stood in the doorway as the panicked man started rambling on about a heart problem....no history of heart problems in the family, and a perfect diet, so it was odd that she was having them. Tamotsu was crying at this point, and eventually ended his long crying session with, "come with me to the hospital". Nagare figured it would turn out fine, and even if it didn't and his mother were to die, he would be unaffected by any of it, but it wouldn't hurt to at least go see her. So, he grabbed his coat, messed with his hair a bit to get that "I care enough to touch my hair, but not enough to actually do it" look, and followed his father out, closing the door behind him. The unstable breaths of his father inbetween sobs were annoying, so he kept a gap between them as they walked to the tall building that was known as the Kumo Hospital. Another thing that he hadn't seen in a long time, he hadn't been there since he broke his arm five years ago...

The entrance swung open as Nagare pulled the handle, and they both entered. The first sensation was the cool breeze of the AC blowing down on them, followed by the silence that held the hospital like a plague. It was an eery silence that, together with the bright lights and pastel-white colored walls, made for a scary place to be. Nagare wanted to leave already. Tamotsu's pace was growing faster, and he walked ahead of Nagare, checking each room number until he found the one that was Kazumi's. There she was, in the uncomfortable-looking, flat bed, with an IV jabbed sloppily into her vein and her eyes shut in a peaceful blink. Tamotsu rushed to her side (at this point, every action he made just annoyed Nagare even more) and began weeping into her hospital gown, soaking it in his tears. Kazumi was sound asleep, despite the obnoxious crying, and Nagare couldn't take it anymore. He left the room, without saying anything. It wasn't that he was overcome with sadness or some crap like that, it was that he found his father to be the most pathetic excuse for a person to have ever lived on this planet right then.


Nagare walked off to the south, which wasn't the way towards the exit, but he had lost his sense of direction. Or, rather, he never really had a sense of direction, and all he found to the south were more rooms. The room at the end of the hall caught his eye, and he stopped to look in. A blonde girl, with lovely eyes like sapphires, was within, crying softly. The tears of his father were obnoxious, but he didn't mind these even a bit; he was almost saddened by them. He stood in the doorway, watching her cry for a moment as he heard her say, "Your child is dead."

Well, that was grim. The Sannin said in an equally quiet whisper, "Miss, are you alright?" he felt it was only human to ask. He wasn't patient or humble, or even nice, but he wasn't heartless.

"A hysterical frenzy possesses you... Your precious, virtuous dream has been taken, torn from your defensive, guarding breast. Next a morose loneliness descends... You're a pitiful stumbling creature, lost in the woods of despair..." She could feel someone, someone's energy near her, so close, close they were at her doorway, looking in. What did they see? Did they see a sad girl, or a hysterical animal? A gentle lover, or a mad woman talking to herself in an empty room? She didn't have their eyes, their mind... She'd never know. How could she know? What did she know? Her entire reality, gone. GONE. It never existed, never! Exist, what did exist? How could one ever know? She turned her head, blind eyes looking at his face dead on. He wouldn't be able to tell that she was blind. No one ever could... She guessed that it was a good thing. He asked if she was alright. Was she alright? What was she, was she just some form sitting here in this hospital bed? Did she exist? He had a quiet tone. Who was he? Was he another illusion? Maybe a nurse or assistant checking up on her, maybe someone- someone come to take her away- away, away to be locked behind steel doors and within cells. Rooms with lonely little cots.

After a second she would respond to him, "My love is lost. I held it as a handful of sand, clenching my fist to hold it there. Yet... bit by bit, it slipped through my straining fingers. Now, nothing but memories of every smile, every kiss, and, above all, every word... When I opened my tired hand and found my love was gone I trembled and died... I struggle to hide my deadness. To conceal the emptiness in my eyes, that sparkle with tears always so close but never come. My mind quivers and screams, fight, fight to live, but why? My handful of existence has vanished. My love is lost." Was she cryptic? She thought not. That had always been how she had spoken; gracefully, like a poem. She would continue to sit on the bed and wait for the male's response as the sun began to stream in through her window, catching her hair and making it look such a soft white, as if she were glowing. She had glowed once, once a long time ago in her dream.

The girl looked over at Nagare, staring back into her eyes. The color they held was a shade that made him feel peace; a blue that he didn't see around often. Her mouth opened, and the words came out painfully, her voice still strained from the crying. She spoke of a love lost, a handful of sand that was her existence, by the sounds of it, an existence that had left her, and the despair in her tone grew worse as she continued. It was awfully sad to watch, but Nagare sat there, watching intently until she finished with what she had said before. "My love is lost." Her love was lost? What did that even mean? A friend died, a family member...a lover? Someone of importance, maybe more than one. He didn't want to seem distant, but he didn't know his boundaries here. She could have easily had some sort of mental problem, or a contagious disease, or a problem with having people nearby.

Something about the girl was so familiar, and so detached at the very same time. Nagare felt like he knew her from somewhere, but he had gotten this feeling before. It was the same feeling that he got when he had first met Jishin...Jishin was gone now, off somewhere. There was a large chance she was still in Kumogakure, but Nagare didn't bother to try and reconnect with her. This new woman held the same aura around her, but with a poetic twist that enticed Nagare. He simply wanted to know why she was so downtrodden, and all the while wondered what had come over him, and why he even cared.

So, the crimson stare of the black-haired ninja met the girl's. She didn't react, merely kept a blank look back into his. "Who died?" he started, a bit hesitantly. There were more questions, of course, but this was the first and most obvious. At this point, he was sure that his father would be coming after him, angry that he just left his mother like that, but he wasn't worried. He leaned against the door, and added another question...."..and what happened?" the depth in his voice was a bit grim, but it was just how his voice always sounded. He wasn't trying to scare her or be stern, that was actually his attempt at sympathy. His voice was just dark and abrasive, almost as much so as his mind.

Who died? Had she died, or had he? The rocks had fallen on top of her... But he had never existed in the first place, so when she woke up from her coma, he had in fact died... But how can something that doesn't exist die? How does a thought die? Her dying had returned her to the living, reality. Himitsu shifted, leaning forward about three inches, but never removing her periwinkle eyes from this male. The back of her purple Ao dai was still completely open, and when she leaned forward her back would be clearly visible to her guest. He would be able to see her lichtenburg scar, how it branched down her back like an upside down tree; it had been scarlet red directly after she had gotten struck, but now it was faded to a soft pink. It still stood out against her pale, nearly washed out looking skin.

She sighed, pushing her bangs to the side with her right hand, out of her face, as if it mattered. "I guess in the end, no one died but my dream. They tell me I was struck by lightning, it's why I have the scar. Five years, years of my life spent in a coma sleeping, sleeping away my time. But I dreamed, I dreamed a dream so real... Every touch and word was as real as this moment while I talk with you. I dreamt of love, of a wonderful man that loved me for me, my personality. It was so passionate, our little fire. I dreamt. I dreamt of becoming a mother..." She trailed off for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. She spoke fondly but sadly of this dream, her tone a quiet somberness that could not be faked, "... But then it was all cut short so soon. I was so confused when I awoke, they told me that none of it was real; how could it all have been fake? All of those moments, all of that happiness and love. False. My illusion is gone, and it feels like losing a child."

Her voice was starting to falter and grow weak. She hadn't talked in so long, it was almost hurting her throat to speak so loud for so long now. She raised her pale left hand slowly and placed it over her heart; her fingernails were long, about a half of an inch each, this added to the lithe graceful look her had. "If you want to continue talking, you can come in the room and sit. The doorway can't be that comfortable, plus my voice is starting to strain." She pulled back the blankets, exposing her legs which were covered by her solid white leggings. She turned towards the wall with the door and swung her legs off the bed. "If you don't mind, could you bring me my boots? They're near the chair." She said, voice getting quieter. This man seemed nice so far, and she had some questions for him. How had Kumo changed? Was Midnight still the Raikage? What were the current affairs in the Shinobi world? These were but a few of the curiosities she had.

Nagare stood there as the girl sat forward and her gown opened at the back, revealing a jagged scar that continued most of the way down. He flinched a bit at the sight of it, and wondered how she got it....she looked at him and trailed off, explaining how she had been in a coma after getting struck by lightning, and how she had a different life then; for five years, she lived as a woman who was in love, one who became a mother and had a happy life...and now, she had awoken here, and now she was left in her grief, alone in an unfamiliar place. Nagare couldn't do more than feel sympathy for her, and just as he was about to say something in an attempt to console her, she said, quietly:

"If you want to continue talking, you can come in the room and sit. The doorway can't be that comfortable, plus my voice is starting to strain." She was right. The doorway was a hard surface to lean on, and his shoulder was getting sore. So, he left his leaning stance and stretched a bit, and before he could step forward, the girl added, "If you don't mind, could you bring me my boots? They're near the chair." He nodded and walked a few paces over to the chair, and picked up the boots. He turned back to her, and handed them to her before sitting to the left of her. The bed was surprisingly comfortable. Nagare moved on, turning to face her and her blue gaze again.

"I'm sorry. I had to start with that, because what has happened to you is terrible in every sense of the word. Now, let's go back a bit, to introductions. I'm Sōseiji, Nagare. What is your name?" Nagare couldn't imagine what it could be, he had the feeling of familiarity but deep down he knew that he had never met this woman.

She felt his energy move across the room. She felt his hand extend when he handed her the boots, she would then reach out her left hand and take the top of the boots, bringing them to her lap. Sighing softly she began to unzip the left boot and put her foot into it when she felt the hospital bed move. She had not expected him to sit so close to her, she had expected him to just sit in the chair that was beside the bed. Not that she minded, as long as he didn't try to get all close and touchy-huggy-feely on her or anything like that. She didn't know him very well, so she hoped he wasn't a creeper. He didn't seem like one... But then again, she had thought that her "love" was real.

He was apologising. Why was he apologising? This wasn't his fault at all... Oh he was just expressing empathy. That was fine. Slowly, very slowly she lifted her left foot, as if it weighed a ton, making soft noises of exertion. To her, it did. Five years, for five years she had not moved. Her muscles had suffered from apathy, wasting away more and more with each passing day that she had lain there. She would have to strip her muscles and spend grueling amount of time physically training just to get her former strength and speed back. She exhaled softly in a seeming relief as she finally got her foot up high enough to put her boot on. She slid the black shinobi boot on over her white legging, zipped it up and repeated the entire process with the other foot. These boots were open toed and open heeled, with a small inch tall heel, they extended all the way up her leg, stopping just below her knee.

"Hello Nagare-san. I thank your condolences. My name is Haruto, Himitsu. I am the head of the Haruto clan. ... May I ask who the Raikage is; is it still Midnight-Sama?" She asked, looking back at Nagare as she shifted, holding tightly to the edge of the bed as she placed her feet flat on the floor. She was about to attempt to stand, and right now, she doubted that she'd even be able to. She looked back at the floor, watching her feet as she began to put more and more weight on her weak limbs at a crawling pace. She got about three-fourths of her weight down before her knees just went, "nope" and gave away. She tried to catch herself, but she had no upper body strength either, and would just continue on her way to the hard tile floor unless Nagare moved quick enough to catch her.

The girl put on her boots slowly. She seemed stiff, nearly unable to move, but she was managing okay, considering her five years of stasis. "Hello Nagare-san. I thank your condolences. My name is Haruto, Himitsu. I am the head of the Haruto clan. ... May I ask who the Raikage is; is it still Midnight-Sama?" Nagare thought about it for a moment. He had a vague memory of Midnight, he was maybe in the ninja academy then. Back in that time, the Raikage and who it was was of little use to him, so he never concerned himself with the person. The current Raikage, whoever, he held a deep loyalty to, not only because she was the leader of the village he cared for but also because she was a friend and a noble woman. He turned to Himitsu with a half-smile and said, "No, Midnight has not been Raikage for a long time now. Misora, Reika is the Raikage, at the moment. She's a powerful ninja who utilizes Unton and quite a good person, as well."

As for who Himitsu was, Nagare had heard of the Haruto clan. There wasn't many of them around, but he knew that they were unique because of their sensing ability. The part that surprised him most was the fact that this poor girl was the head of that clan. The clan's affairs must've been in turmoil for the last five years, if she was out that whole time. Hopefully they had a temporary head while she was out, but at least she was awake and fully functioning now.

Himitsu was processing all of this as she gripped the hospital bed. As she pressed her full weight onto it, she began to shift, moving her weight to her feet. This was soon, but Nagare stayed in his seat, waiting to do something only if she was going to get hurt. She did need to learn how to walk again, anyways, so why not try a bit now? ...the attempt was a fast failure, and she buckled under her own weight. Her hair flowed as the current picked up, her body at an angle, falling forward. A few grabs at the bed to catch herself, but to no avail. She still held her calm expression, oddly enough. Nagare wasn't going to let her fall, so he dashed down to the floor, at full speed, and leaning on a knee, caught her with one arm. He'd aimed carefully so that he wouldn't touch her breasts, and instead had wrapped the limb around her torso, and pulled her up. "I think you should weight before you try again, you need to wait for the circulation to pick up in your legs...it won't do much, but it's something." he said, giving her an amiable smile.

Nagare didn't usually act nice. Hell, he usually acted like an indifferent asshole. But this woman had been in a coma for five years, and the last thing she needed was to be alone. So, he was there to be a friend, and he looked into her eyes as she sat. "In the meantime, tell me more about yourself, Himitsu-chan. What was your life like before you were hurt?" he honestly wanted to know, her tales had intrigued him so far, and it was something to do until his father came to find him. That was, if his father even bothered. Nagare was 22, an adult who didn't need a crappy father, so it didn't matter either way.

Midnight... Midnight was not the kage? What had happened to him? Had he simply stepped down, or had he gotten assassinated? She had hoped that he had only stepped down... She had wanted to met Midnight for a long while now, would she get the chance now? Which reminded her, was she still going to be assigned to a squad? Was she still going to be able to follow her dream of becoming a Kunoichi? She was indeed weak at the moment, maybe her being struck by lightning had doomed her. She had all the memories of becoming powerful and respected, and none of it had seemed hyper-impossible, in her dream she had been graceful and flexible, flexible as if she had no bones. Quick, she had become as quick as lightning. Maybe if her body wasn't as broke and crippled as she feared, maybe she could truly become that once more. Maybe with the right training and the correct crowd, the correct friends, maybe she could move herself on from the chaos she felt inside of her own mind now.

Yes, maybe she could move on and become happy again.

She felt him catch her in mid-fall, he moved quickly, he must have been a higher rank than herself. She noticed how he caught her around the waist, while most men would have grabbed her around her upper torso in attempt to grab a nice handful of her breasts. Her was thankful he wasn't that type of guy. She blushed in embarrassment, a soft red tinged her cheeks as she looked at the ground. She had fallen with the grace of a wounded zebra, and yet this man had caught her and put her back on the bed, and even offered advice. "I'm sorry, excuse my clumsiness.  I guess I just overestimated my well being. Thank you though."

Oh, so he was asking her about herself? About her life before she was hurt? Oh... This would be a slightly sad story to tell then. "Well, as far as I know, the entirety of the Haruto family burned in the fall of Kiri. As far as I know, I'm the last one. I can't remember much, but some things have come back to me... I ran away from my home when I was fourteen, and that's how I got to Kumo. I was born in Kiri... But my mother, she was very strict, and very abusive towards me. The Haruto family valued males over females, so my mother and father thought that I was a curse, seeing as I was the only child my mother could bear." She said, slowly she pushed her collar down, exposing a scar that ran across her jugular. "My mother gave me that in an argument once. She told me that she wanted me to die because I was worthless to her and the clan." After a moment she let go of her collar, and then she would wait for his response.

Nagare listened to Himitsu as she explained the sad story of the Haruto clan...all of them but her were dead, or at least she thought so. Her parents were abusive to her, she had no other choice but to escape. This girl had been through a lot of misfortune, based off of her experiences. It was saddening. "My mother gave me that in an argument once. She told me that she wanted me to die because I was worthless to her and the clan." Nagare nodded as he heard this; he wanted to say sorry again, but then it would just start to sound repetitive. He instead looked into her eyes and offered her a sad smile, as if that was any better.

The sound of hurried footsteps interrupted the moment. Tamotsu entered the room, with tears in his eyes. He muttered two words to Nagare, barely a choke out of the grown man's throat. "She's dead." Nagare knew who it was. His mother was gone, all within a few hours. She seemed fine just a while ago, she was asleep, steady heartbeat and vitals. But now, her flame had been put out, and she'd moved on to another world, wherever or whatever it was. Maybe she would be happier there, but Nagare didn't concern himself with it. He looked back at his father and said, "It happens to everyone, it was bound to happen to her." Tamotsu's expression shifted straight to rage, as he charged forward with a clenched fist. "YOU GOD DAMN INGRATE! THAT WOMAN DID EVERYTHING FOR YOU, AND YOU CAN'T EVEN BOTHER TO SHED A TEAR AS SHE DIES!" Nagare dodged the punch, and gripped Tamotsu by the collar, pressing him against the wall in a chokehold.

"Neither of you ever cared about me...you left me alone, I never had any friends and to make matters worse I barely had a family. How dare you even..." Tamotsu struggled to breathe; Nagare wasn't strong in ninja standards, but against the frail man, he was effective enough. Soon, his fist blazed as his anger increased, and a demonic cloak of flames. "I could crush you..." it was happening again. The corner of his mind, the darkness...it came when he was angry, emotional...it was a different side of him, that was stronger than him. His consciousness went into the black, and he could no longer see what was happening...his senses shut down as it overtook him, and his eyes became a red so deep it was near-black.

"Tamotsu, today is the day that you die." The dark side of him said as the grip on Tamotsu's neck tightened, crushing his windpipe. The flames around his fist burnt into the man's skin, and he choked for air when suddenly a light burst from Nagare's figure, forming a second person. The Sōseiji kekkei genkai, activating on its own? Horui, the Eizō that frequented Nagare's company, was now in the room, standing to the left of Himitsu and facing Nagare and Tamotsu. He was mute, as all Eizō, but he didn't need to say anything. He gripped Nagare, entered his own Hell Form, and wrenched him from Tamotsu, throwing him out of the window. Nagare caught himself as he was falling, and took flight, high over the hospital. Horui flew after him, tackling him in mid-air. They struggled for a moment before eventually falling straight down and falling 50 meters. As they neared the ground, the monster that was within Nagare looked to Horui with a sinister grin. "You stopped me this time, but soon, both you and Nagare won't have a chance against me...I'm stronger than the both of you, and one mind can only carry so many consciences..." and with that, they smashed to the ground, with a loud thud.

When the dust cleared, Nagare stood, wiping himself off. He wasn't sure exactly what had just transpired, but he had survived...Horui had cushioned his fall, and therefore saved his life. He was still bruised pretty badly, and his shoulder was bleeding. He looked up to the window that he was thrown out of. Nobody stood in its frame, and from where he was, he couldn't see Himitsu or Tamotsu. He sighed, and said to himself, "I can't look at that man again, never again. He never loved me, he doesn't need to see me again. As for Himitsu, we'll meet again one day...but I need to leave, just go home and rest....something is wrong with me..." Horui's corpse disappeared, as per usual of the kekkei genkai, and Nagare began the long limp back home.

(Exit Thread)

OOC: I don't even know, I decided to go out with a bang. Nagare's a psychopath, may as well do some crazy stuff

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Nagare's Chakra - 145/175:

Horui's Chakra - 145/175: