there's a niche in his chest where a heart would fit perfectly
Nate doesn't move, doesn't reach out, even as Sunjata is stepping past him, He falls into that stillness he's so good at, not even pretending to breathe as he stares, trying to make sense of what he's seeing, who he's seeing. It would be a lie to say that it doesn't hurt. It would be a bigger lie to say some part of him isn't soaring, even if he still doesn't move.
But this is no phantom, no barely there figment of their collective imagination. This is Hotaru, in the flesh. And he knows it, because he does, along with Sunjata, reach out to catch her as she runs, the action automatic, his mind still struggling to catch up, to make sense of this. He knows some of his confusion must spread to the attuned, because he can feel that same swirl pressing against his mind.
If his mind ever managed to catch up, he'd say something about last time, the vision they'd had of her, just after she disappeared, but he can't. Gods, he can't even manage anything clever, his voice hoarse when he answers her question simply. "We burned it down. Accidentally." It's easier to just respond, to just hold her, afraid she'll slip away once again, like smoke, like the memory he'd thought she was.
Perhaps its the tremble in her voice, perhaps its the shadow of some deep, unknowing fear in her eyes, but Nate seems to snap very suddenly back into the moment, actually properly looking her over now that she's pulled away from them. "I... we uh... we thought you..." No, he can't bring himself to finish that thought, though the struggle in his voice must betray his own fear, pain that he thought he'd locked away someplace deep and flightless. Funny how things like that kept coming back up.
"Are you alright?" He asks instead, letting his own mismatched eyes flick over her, if only so he can distract himself.
But this is no phantom, no barely there figment of their collective imagination. This is Hotaru, in the flesh. And he knows it, because he does, along with Sunjata, reach out to catch her as she runs, the action automatic, his mind still struggling to catch up, to make sense of this. He knows some of his confusion must spread to the attuned, because he can feel that same swirl pressing against his mind.
If his mind ever managed to catch up, he'd say something about last time, the vision they'd had of her, just after she disappeared, but he can't. Gods, he can't even manage anything clever, his voice hoarse when he answers her question simply. "We burned it down. Accidentally." It's easier to just respond, to just hold her, afraid she'll slip away once again, like smoke, like the memory he'd thought she was.
Perhaps its the tremble in her voice, perhaps its the shadow of some deep, unknowing fear in her eyes, but Nate seems to snap very suddenly back into the moment, actually properly looking her over now that she's pulled away from them. "I... we uh... we thought you..." No, he can't bring himself to finish that thought, though the struggle in his voice must betray his own fear, pain that he thought he'd locked away someplace deep and flightless. Funny how things like that kept coming back up.
"Are you alright?" He asks instead, letting his own mismatched eyes flick over her, if only so he can distract himself.
NATE
