in between

A/N: Sorry about the wait—I was out of the country and couldn't find the time to write. I'm also thinking about rewriting or hard editing the first twelve chapters… I'm not sure that I'm completely satisfied with them. If I did, should I do it in a different "story" or should I just go back and update chapters?

And there was peace.

She floated in between the hazy darkness of the damaged mind and the odd lightness of the train station.

("Her vitals are failing—get her on life support!" "What happened to her?!" "No response, it's as if her mind is completely gone." "Uchiha Itachi? No wonder—" "There's no guarantee that she'll wake up.")

Was it crueler to show what could-have-been and know that it would never happen?

At times she would be back in that golden reality, a reality far more true than the tragedy that was to define her. A tragedy that was concocted—forced onto the surface of a world with a boy who had none to turn to and a family that suffered in silence. At times she found herself at the summit of that mountain watching the skies turn too vivid colors, whispering truths to her brother. At times she was in the train, watching the boy of destiny stumble in and introduce himself, the compartment filling with comfortable noise. At times she was held again in her mother's arms in (the Compound) (Ottery St. Catchpole). At times she was in the train station, no longer empty.

("Hey, Kiko, I contacted the blond pariah that you were so interested in. You weren't very subtle, but then I guess you of all people wouldn't particularly care if you were associated with him. Recover soon, okay? He's probably wondering where his mysterious benefactor went.")

How do you fragment a soul?

She was Uchiha Tsukiko, daughter of Mikoto and Fugaku, sister to Itachi and Sasuke, teammate to Fujino Hideshi and Hiraide Katsuki, shinobi of the Leaf. (And also: sister to a traitor and a broken boy, orphan, anomaly.)

She was Luna Lovegood, daughter of Pandora and Xenophilius, friend of Ginny and Harry and Hermione and Ron and Neville, student of Hogwarts, resident of Great Britain. (And also: daughter of a madman and a scientist, not-quite-there, anomaly.)

She was neither, nameless and terrible and kind.

She was both, odd and perceptive and human.

(She was named for a goddess, and this was not her world.)

("Hideshi won't talk to you, so I guess it's up to me to do that… We're not coping well. At least, he isn't—I sorta have to, what with taking care of your brother and all. You were always the better adjusted one of us all. Kami, that's so weird to think about, considering—well, everything. Point it, we kinda need you…")

Tell me again the story of Death and the Three Brothers.

It goes like this:

Death was at the river, the site of a drowning, when three wizards with the Sight arrived on its banks. The eldest brother said to the others, there is a disturbance here. The middle child knelt down on the shore and said, yes, a soul in despair. And the youngest parted the waters and knelt down beside the body of the child and wept.

When Death, the traveler worn weary from the road, saw the three brothers, a few frayed threads of destiny intertwined around that scene, hiding it from time. And Death made himself known to the brothers, who were not surprised. (Before there was a train station, it was a river, that transient, unreal place.) And Death said to them, who are you who dare to cross between the realms of the living and the dead?

The youngest replied, how could we not, when we heard the child weeping?

And the threads of destiny thickened into chains and held the four beings captive as Death himself strode forward. For those who cross between worlds, said Death, there is always a price.

He gave them the Wand, the Ring, and the Cloak. The eldest took the Wand, felt the power coursing through his body and knew he would do great and terrible things. The middle child took the Ring, saw without seeing the souls who had been, who were, and who would be around him, and knew he would live surrounded by the dead and the yet-to-be. And the youngest took the Cloak, but with suspicion, the words of Death ringing in his head, and knew he would disappear from the world someday.

Death told them then, they must not be separated.

But only the youngest listened, because there are some forces in the world that no human nor wizard should ever touch, because there are some forces in the world that cause the loss of all reason. The Hallows were never meant for mortal hands, you see, never meant to fall.

(but the three brothers had never been truly mortal)

The eldest became the greatest duelist in the world and left his brothers for glory and fame. The middle child became a Seer and drew the troubled to him as they sought council. And the youngest stayed in their childhood home, with their parents and lived quietly. He had pleaded with the others before they had left, had urged them to remember the words of Death, but they had looked at him, not understanding his terror, and said, why would Death have given them to us separately then?

The youngest stayed and listened and heard. When the eldest brother was killed, he went to take back the wand, but it had already been lost. When the next brother become the spirits that surrounded him, he traveled to his house to find the stone, only to discover it ransacked and burned down. And finally, when he returned to the river on the day of his death, he met the apparition that had torn his family apart and asked, why?

But there was no answer, and he too faded to nought.

Tell me the truth.

Tell me reality.

It did (not) happen. It was inevitable. The story has been twisted beyond recognition.

Instead let me tell you the story of the boy of destiny and a girl who lived outside of time.

("I don't know who you are, or how you saw that night. But—")

"Luna."

She marveled at the voice, at the sudden clearing of her mind, at the boy with green eyes.

"Hello, Harry."

And it was the train station again, as if she had never left, save for the boy whose demeanor had not yet reached the all-consuming weariness of before. The white devoured all color and impurity from the undefinable space, and Luna wondered at it. (It was so different from the golden reality that she had dreamed for her brother; one too harsh, too tangible and the other barely there, an unreality.)

And then it flickered, suddenly filled with grey shades of her clansmen, that silent procession. Luna blinked and the white walls restored themselves.

She looked down at herself, at the shinobi who had become a part of her, and Uchiha Tsukiko looked at the Shinigami with suspicion and fear and dread.

(The Sharingan spun and spun reflecting the Fox, the moon, the seal—)

("I don't know who sent the flowers." "Well it wasn't either of us, and I can't remember her having an admirer." "Sasuke?" "He'd get her tomatoes, not flowers." "White camelia." "What?" "That's the flower. It means waiting." "You don't think it's a threat, do you?" "It's not a particularly threatening flower." "So no.")

At times the Hallows manifested: the cloak shifting around her slight figure, the ring on the second finger of her right hand, the wand a heavy weight in her left hand. The train station flickered: she was there, she was an observer to the shades of those souls who boarded the train, she was alone, Harry was in front of her, green eyes professing an almost worry—Luna?—with a desperation that fit too well with the weariness, she was alone, she was alone, she was alone, aloneALONEALONE.

(Luna knew loneliness, knew how to count the silent breaths in bed after [the incident] and before Ginny, knew the silence that came with a thousand unsaid words and too many forgotten memories.)

(Luna knew loneliness, knew how the loudest rooms were also the emptiest, knew how dull it was to walk into a classroom, the library, the halls, and be invisible.)

(Luna knew loneliness, knew how the train station bleached even the others to shadows, knew how Harry had looked at her and only half realized she was there.)

At times the Hallows manifested: the cloak on her shoulders an untenable burden, the ring on her finger preventing her from lifting her hand because of the weight, the wand in her hand a white-hot metal rod she could not let go of. The train station flickered, and through it she could see the Uchiha Compound (blood and her family, her clan, and deaddeaddead) and Hogwarts (Death Eaters in the school, keep hidden, keep hope, keep running). Through the train station were glimpses of other realities—Sasuke alone (she would have never left him alone, abandoned) collapsed in the middle of a blooded street, images of a massacre flashing beneath his eyes, then surrounded by strangers with coldcold eyes and calculation; the cellar opened and an elf Apparating them out to freedom, of a funeral next to the sea and the child of destiny walking to his death; her teammates, Katsuki staying genin, growing bitter, reckless, felled through a brace of kunai he'd rushed into, Hideshi as chuunin, fading to shadows, losing both loyalty and faith; her brothers, Itachi fighting almost in darkness, his eyes bleeding, Sasuke consumed by vengeance for the dead who haunted him; Hogwarts in the eve of its most terrible moment—George with a hole in his head that would never close, Fred, laughing, dead, Percy, sobbing, saying this was not meant to be, Ginny growing old, tired, a sad smile as she visited her grave, Ginny growing old, radiant, holding her hand as she counted the stars again—

Perhaps she stayed an eon in the train station, alone. Perhaps it had not been alone, perhaps green eyes or the shades of the Uchiha. Perhaps these were all dreams, perhaps—

("Wake up, Nee-san!" muffled sobbing "please…")

Who was she?

("You've been asleep for so long…")

Who was she?

("You have to wake up!")

Who was she?

(did it matter who she was?)

Uchiha Tsukiko. Luna Lovegood. Uchiha-luna-tsukiko-lovegood—she was named for the moon, always, always—named for a goddess—not this world—the threads of destiny are not immutable—wasn't it funny how they couldn't see what she saw—wasn't it lonely—lovely—the Deathly Hallows—not quite human—

Darkness again.

Grey eyes snapped open.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! The next chapter should delve into what happened while Luna was unconscious.