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musings on home
Do you know what home feels like? For the longest time, Nanao thought she knew. Home was a shoebox apartment in the barracks, a seven to five work schedule, and people she cared about, but kept at arms length. A little empty, a little distant - but that was okay! She wasn't lonely all the time.
Just when it mattered, really. It was fine.
Then between heartbeats, she was in another world, on a very snowy christmas. She had one - and then two, then three, then many companions in the form of Pokemon to look after. Her carefully composed emotional distance crumbled as she let herself care as much as she had always wanted to.
She made friends, saw them vanish to whatever place they orginally hailed from, and then return - sometimes with no memory of who she was, or the bonds they'd forged. Nanao decided it was then that she had to live in the moment, to take every day as it came and forget about micro-managing every second.
It was... joyous. Freeing in a way she'd never known was possible. She shouted at strangers jetting across rooftops, provided advice on dealing with the absurdity of Pokemon to others befuddled by the nonsensical behaviour of their charges, got very lost in forests and named far too many of her own Pokemon after acquaintances back home.
Then Hitsugaya arrived. Rangiku too, and Yachiru. But it was Toushiro who she helped the most; and was helped in return. Yachiru left, which hurt. But it was Rangiku leaving which hurt him more. And it wasn't like she didn't care before, back in Soul Society - she knew all too well what it was like, being a Shinigami so young.
But back then she'd kept up her careful emotional distance, both for politics and politeness. Here in Johto, though. Things were different. They commiserated over cocoa (misbehaving Pokemon, the weather), fished each other out of scrapes (sometimes literally, thank you awful Golduck of Hitsugaya's), and through that, bonded.
Now, home was a slightly creaky two-storey house, just far enough back from the beach to be sensible, but still close enough that the sound of the surf rolling in was steady background noise. Home was her son, eating breakfast at the kitchen table in a jumper she'd knitted him while a small army of pokemon rolled around in the yard outside.
Home was a world away from the chaos and danger of Soul Society, where the worst thing that might happen is getting dunked in the ocean instead of having your soul eaten, what the hell. Home is watching Hitsugaya actually grow from eating three solid meals a day, not including snacks. It is commiserating over nightmares at 2am with mugs of cocoa. It's laughing at the antics of pokemon so hard that sitting down becomes a priority. It is a hug, freely and thoughtlessly given, just because.
It is also laughing at your friends when their pokemon drag them into trouble, and then helping them out of it.
Johto has changed her, and when Kyouraku finally shows up and says as much, all she can say is "Good. I think it's been for the better.".
Just when it mattered, really. It was fine.
Then between heartbeats, she was in another world, on a very snowy christmas. She had one - and then two, then three, then many companions in the form of Pokemon to look after. Her carefully composed emotional distance crumbled as she let herself care as much as she had always wanted to.
She made friends, saw them vanish to whatever place they orginally hailed from, and then return - sometimes with no memory of who she was, or the bonds they'd forged. Nanao decided it was then that she had to live in the moment, to take every day as it came and forget about micro-managing every second.
It was... joyous. Freeing in a way she'd never known was possible. She shouted at strangers jetting across rooftops, provided advice on dealing with the absurdity of Pokemon to others befuddled by the nonsensical behaviour of their charges, got very lost in forests and named far too many of her own Pokemon after acquaintances back home.
Then Hitsugaya arrived. Rangiku too, and Yachiru. But it was Toushiro who she helped the most; and was helped in return. Yachiru left, which hurt. But it was Rangiku leaving which hurt him more. And it wasn't like she didn't care before, back in Soul Society - she knew all too well what it was like, being a Shinigami so young.
But back then she'd kept up her careful emotional distance, both for politics and politeness. Here in Johto, though. Things were different. They commiserated over cocoa (misbehaving Pokemon, the weather), fished each other out of scrapes (sometimes literally, thank you awful Golduck of Hitsugaya's), and through that, bonded.
Now, home was a slightly creaky two-storey house, just far enough back from the beach to be sensible, but still close enough that the sound of the surf rolling in was steady background noise. Home was her son, eating breakfast at the kitchen table in a jumper she'd knitted him while a small army of pokemon rolled around in the yard outside.
Home was a world away from the chaos and danger of Soul Society, where the worst thing that might happen is getting dunked in the ocean instead of having your soul eaten, what the hell. Home is watching Hitsugaya actually grow from eating three solid meals a day, not including snacks. It is commiserating over nightmares at 2am with mugs of cocoa. It's laughing at the antics of pokemon so hard that sitting down becomes a priority. It is a hug, freely and thoughtlessly given, just because.
It is also laughing at your friends when their pokemon drag them into trouble, and then helping them out of it.
Johto has changed her, and when Kyouraku finally shows up and says as much, all she can say is "Good. I think it's been for the better.".