Hi! Apparently the appropriate thing to do when you're sick and stuck in bed is to write fanfic instead of resting. I have no regrets.

I am not overly sure where the idea from this sprung from, but I think it began when I was rewatching my Disappearance DVD a couple of weeks ago and wondered about the reasoning behind Yuki subconsciously bringing Ryouko into the alternate world. Voila, 3360 words of rambling crap. Also, this was my first real foray into writing actual dialogue instead of cheating via just writing constant streams of consciousness. I think I failed, but hey, we all need to start somewhere.

All criticism, comments, favourites, reviews, hell, even hits are appreciated. Also, as always I own nothing, (but I do finally own a DVD of the complete season 1!).

Also, when I uploaded this the formatting went to balls, so if it's messed up in places I obviously missed something when I was fixing it. Sorry.

Things Left Behind

It begins in a room.

The first thing she is aware of is how needlessly cumbersome a tangible form is. Despite having complete knowledge of the intricacies of human anatomy, it takes her a few moments to fully comprehend how to move. She extends an arm slowly, flexing her pale fingers almost tentatively before dropping her hand to her side. Tilting her head, she finds the other unit looking at her.

"It's strange how they work, isn't it?"

She does not understand why the other unit is speaking. It is superfluous when their kind has mastered communication without any sort of verbalization. The other gives a strange sound as she steps away from where they are standing, her eyes searching around the room.

"It seems a bit weird, I know, but it's what they do. You're going to have to get used to it. Plus," - and here she turns around, her blue hair fluttering from the motion - "don't you think it's kind of nice? It feels personal, you know?"

She cannot understand what she is saying and makes no response. The corners of the other unit's mouth turn up slightly – a smile. A facial expression most commonly used to denote pleasure, favour or amusement.

"That reminds me, what are you going to call yourself?"

She has not considered this yet. The blue-haired interface makes the strange sound again and walks back over to her, procuring a piece of paper and a pen. She kneels at the table and draws four characters. Ryouko Asakura.

"I was thinking of using this. The last name was completely random, but I think the given name's kind of nice, don't you?"

She processes the meaning. Refreshing child.

The other unit smiles at her again. "You don't seem very impressed. What are you going to use?"

She chooses a name at random from her memory. Nagato.

"Like the battleship, huh? What about your first name?"

Her gaze shifts to the window. Outside, white specks are drifting down from the sky. Snow. Yuki. She holds the pen and writes the characters down beneath the others, an action which is interrupted by the other interface making a disparaging noise. She glances up to see her frowning at her petulantly. "That's boring! You can't have that as your name! Here, why don't you write it like -"

The pen is snatched from her hand as the other unit begins writing something. She does not understand her thoughts. The concept of being boring should hold no relevance to her. As she finishes writing, she glances down at the paper. The characters she has written have the same pronunciation but a different meaning.

She reads the meaning out loud.

"Wow, so you can talk! It's not that bad, is it?" The interface smiles again. She cannot determine whether her question refers to talking or to the name and as such does not answer. She does not understand why her name needs to hold any particular meaning. Hope is yet another irrelevant concept to them. She considers verbalizing this when the strange sound rings out again and she finally realizes that the other unit – Asakura – is laughing. Yuki Nagato looks down at the paper again and writes her name out one more time.

Having hope.

The morning which they are to attend North High for the first time, Yuki sits in silence in her apartment. The opening ceremony is set to commence at approximately 8:15. The walk from the apartment block to the school will take precisely eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds if she walks at the same pace for the whole time. Accounting for environmental factors that may hinder or speed up her walking speed, she estimates the journey to take around ten minutes and twenty-four seconds. The time now is 7:52:21. She will depart momentarily to ensure she arrives in time for the opening ceremony.

At 7:53:34, she stands up and walks over to her bag, placing the strap over her shoulder. She walks over to her apartment's door. As her hand reaches for the handle, the silence is disturbed by the sound of knocking coming from the door's other side. She opens it to reveal the smiling face of one Ryoko Asakura; the girl's expression quickly dissolves into confusion upon seeing Yuki's satchel hanging from her arm.

"Haha, what are you doing? You can't be leaving already, can you?"

"Time constraints dictate that now would be considered the optimal time to depart." Verbalization still feels foreign to her.

"Don't you think it'll be weird if you get there right on time? Everyone else is going to be late, you know. Humans seem to have a knack for not understanding the concept of punctuality." Asakura smiles at her, gripping her arm gently and leading her back inside. Yuki does not resist, even when the other girl removes her bag from her and drops it on the floor. She is having trouble understanding why Asakura is here.

"I thought we could talk a bit before we left, silly," Asakura explains, the compassionate smile still not leaving her face. "Isn't that what humans are meant to do? And, you know, you really need to get into the habit of saying everything out loud."

One response will adequately cover both of these statements. "We are not human."

Asakura sighs then, pouting slightly. "You can't think like that. I'm really concerned as to whether or not you're going to blend in, you know." She walks over to the table in the middle of the room and sits down, an action which Yuki mimics. The blue-haired unit spends a moment in silence, a thoughtful expression upon her face, before she glances up at Yuki and smiles again. "Aren't you going to put any makeup on?"

"I do not feel that attempting to present myself in an aesthetically pleasing light is required by our aims."

Asakura laughs at that. "Don't you want to find a boyfriend?"

"I do not feel tha-"

"I was joking. Joking." Asakura cuts her off with the wave of her hand, looking as though she is trying to conceal further laughter. "You have a lot to learn if you're going to spend months at this school, you know. I guess you'll catch on eventually, though. Besides," she adds after a pause, almost as a afterthought, "you're pretty enough as it is. You might try and lose the glasses though. I think you'd look cuter without them." She stands up before turning back to Yuki, offering her a hand. "Let's go."

When Yuki merely rises to her feet without gripping her hand, Asakura makes no comment, just smiles even wider – if possible – and hands Yuki her bag.

Later that week, Yuki finds herself in a quaint café not far from the school. Ryouko Asakura is sitting opposite from her, her lips closed around a straw as she consumes a glass of some drink. Yuki does not understand why they are here, but she understands that it is common for teenagers to converse with each other after school. Perhaps that is what Asakura is attempting to emulate. Yuki determines, however, that more likely is the possibility that she merely wants to discuss the individual they are observing.

"What is the behaviour of the subject like?"

Asakura gives her a look, removing the straw from her mouth. "Is that really what you want to talk about?"

There is a brief silence. "I am not aware of the existence of another subject which would be appropriate for us to pursue."

The other girl sighs then, looking weary, and places her drink down on the table. "You know, you... Whatever. Suzumiya is... an interesting character. She's causing quite a stir among our fellow students, but I'm guessing you know that already." Yuki recalls how a member of the art club had stormed into homeroom yesterday morning shouting something incomprehensible about Suzumiya ruining their project. "She's not really very sociable. The boy in front of her tried to talk to her the other day. I think everyone in the class felt sorry for him afterwards." She laughs then, but it fades away to be replaced by a more melancholic look. "You know, she's very interesting, but... I find her to be a little... underwhelming."

Yuki does not respond to that. If the girl is as powerful as the Entity considers her to be, there is no possible way she could be considered underwhelming. For not the first time, she questions the appropriateness of the other unit's involvement in the operation.

At her silence, Asakura smiles again. "How is school going for you?"

"I have not yet partaken in any direct contact with the subject."

"Not that," Asakura sighs, as if it were obvious. "I mean, have you made any friends? Joined any clubs?"

Yuki blinks. She does not understand why Asakura considers the concept of friendship worth either discussing or pursuing. The idea itself is difficult for her to comprehend. Humans seem intent on seeking out companionship, a thought which feels unnecessary to her. She ignores the first part of her speech. "I have joined the literature club."

Asakura makes a face at that. "Really? You mean, books? Don't you find them awfully primitive?"

Yuki remains silent. She is incapable of feeling enjoyment but somehow she can understand the human race's adoration for literature. Asakura picks up her drink again and begins resting back in her chair before seemingly deciding against it, leaning forward over the table. "Want some?"

She is offering her the drink. "We are not required to consume food nor drink."

Asakura laughs. "I know that, but it tastes nice! Are you sure you don't want to try it?"

"It is unnecessary."

The other girl gives her a smile with a hint of an emotion which Yuki cannot decipher. They sit in silence.

Asakura visits her in the literature clubroom, one lunch. Yuki looks up for a fraction of a second before reverting back to looking at the book on her lap.

"Aren't you going to greet me?"

She turns a page.

"I knew you'd be in here the moment your classmates told me you disappear every lunch. Are you meant to be in here? I thought clubs were only meant to meet after school."

"It is permitted." She turns another page.

"Hmm. Well, if you say so." Asakura walks over to the window next to which Yuki is sitting. The light of the late spring sun highlights the angles of her face. "What are you reading?"

She holds up the book. Asakura frowns at the title. "Looks pretty boring."

Yuki cannot find evidence to deny that but finds herself not wanting to agree. She makes no comment.

"So, where are all the other members?"

"I am the only one."

It takes a moment for Asakura to process this. "You – you're the only member? In the whole club?"

She nods a fraction of an inch. When she glances up, she sees that Asakura is giving her a pitiful expression.

"That's pretty sad, Yuki. Hey, you should advertise! Want me to help you?"

Yuki's fingers pause mid-movement. The page she was holding flutters back down. "You should not refer to me by that name."

"Hmm? Why's that?"

"Japanese customs dictate that given names are used only between individuals with a close relationship."

"What's wrong with that?"

Yuki looks up then, properly, for the first time since Asakura enters the room. One of her arms is resting casually against the windowsill. She is looking directly at Yuki and smiling brightly.

She says, effortlessly, "We're friends, aren't we?"

Yuki blinks.

6:43:23pm. Saturday evening. A knock on the apartment door resounds. Yuki opens it to find Ryouko Asakura, whose face she has barely a moment to register before the blue-haired girl pushes her way inside, two plastic bags dangling from her arms. Yuki shuts the door behind her and follows her to the kitchen, where she watches as Asakura begins placing various food items onto the worktop.

"I was thinking," Asakura begins, in response to Yuki's unvoiced question, "you haven't tried food yet, have you?"

"It is unnecessary for us to consume it."

Asakura laughs, turning briefly to look at Yuki with a shine in her eye. "Who says you can't do something just because it's unnecessary?" When Yuki makes no retort, Asakura guides her back into the main room of the apartment. "Sit down. I'll make you something nice, okay?"

Yuki sits and waits. It is thirteen minutes and twenty-four seconds before Asakura emerges from the kitchen with a large bowl of some liquid substance. It is placed in front of her. Yuki does not look at it.

"Just try it," Asakura urges cheerfully. "You'll like it!"

Yuki wants to decline. She does not understand why Asakura is so insistent on conforming to every detail of human nature. For some reason, however, the warm smile of the girl in front of her prompts her to lift the bowl to her lips.

It is warm. For a human it may be considered too hot. The dish is swimming with a variety of flavours. She soon notes there are things in the bowl other than merely liquid. She identifies beef along with multiple vegetables. It is not an unpleasant experience.

The bowl is empty before she can realize how much she has drank. She places it back down on the table.

"More."

Asakura beams.

She has emptied twenty-eight bowls around an hour an a half later, during which Asakura had to leave momentarily to restock. Asakura raises an eyebrow as she places her latest empty bowl down. "Look, I know I told you you'd like it, but – I really wasn't expecting that."

Yuki stares down at the bowls strewn across the table. She cannot comprehend what inspired her to partake in such a superfluous action. As she recalls the flavour, however, she finds that she does not regret it.

"Haha. Hey, you've got-" Asakura leans across the table, napkin in hand, and dabs gently at the corner of Yuki's mouth. "There. You had some sauce."

Yuki raises a hand to her lips. They feel vaguely sticky. The other girl laughs and rises to her feet. "Well, I think you've practically emptied the convenience store's supplies, so unless you'd like me to go all the way to another one, I think that's it." Yuki considers actually requesting this before the twinkle of amusement in Asakura's eye makes her realize she is not serious.

"I'll come back again, if you want," Asakura calls back as she bends down to put her shoes on. Yuki makes no motion to see her out, but as Asakura reaches for the door, she says softly, "Wait."

Asakura turns around. "Hmm?"

There is a pause.

"Thank you."

The next time Asakura arrives, Yuki assumes that she wants to talk about the development of the situation regarding the subject. Notable progress has been made in initiating a connection with the girl. When Asakura walks straight to the kitchen, however, Yuki stands still briefly in momentary confusion before seating herself back down at the table.

It becomes a regular occurrence. Asakura treats her to a variety of meals every night which span a range of cultures and flavours. One weekend, Yuki sits motionless waiting for a knock on the door which never comes; later, Asakura apologizes profusely, says that she was out with some classmates, and teases Yuki lightly for the look on her face.

On one night, Asakura rests her hands on her palms and says, "Do you want to go see a movie?"

Yuki lowers her chopsticks. She knows all about films, having been created with extensive knowledge of the history of world cinema. She has not, however, seen one herself. It is not something she has ever felt inclined to do.

She nods, almost imperceptibly.

They go and watch what is apparently the latest blockbuster, a film which is some kind of hybrid of the three genres of action, romance, and comedy. The rest audience laughs and cries throughout. At the end of it, Yuki does not feel as though it affected her much – but she begins to understand why the other people in the cinema had the reaction they did. It is a strange, half-formed form of understanding.

As the room begins to empty out and the credits roll up the screen, Asakura turns to her. "What did you think?" she asks.

"I prefer books." She does not think about saying that. She is surprised at how easily it slips out.

Asakura smiles, giggling slightly. "You really like books, don't you?"

Later, when they return home, they reach Yuki's apartment door first and Asakura stops. "Night," she says warmly. "I had fun."

"Good night," says Yuki. She pauses. The leaves rustle in the sound of the evening wind. "Ryouko."

The day before it happens, there is no sign. Nothing that she could have done. When she looks back, months from now, she will think that there was definitely nothing she could have done. The situation could not have been prevented.

But there is a sign, and it comes in the form of Asakura sighing, folding her hands in her lap and staring down at them with a small frown. Yuki looks at her.

"Don't you think," Asakura begins, in a quiet voice that Yuki considers uncharacteristic of her, "that something – something needs to change?"

There is only silence.

"I mean – do you want to be stuck here forever? Waiting for something that might not come around?"

There are a few things Yuki considers responding to that with, one of which is along the lines of no, I like things like this. But she cannot fully grasp the meaning of what Asakura is saying.

"I don't know." Asakura's expression is unidentifiable. Her eyes are narrowed slightly. Her usual bright smile has become lost somewhere in the suddenly cold atmosphere of the room. "I feel like – we – I need to change something. It can't hurt, right?" She looks up then, and her eyes almost look like they are begging for Yuki to agree. She still does not understand, but something Asakura is saying doesn't feel right.

The other girl leans back then. Her smile is back but it does not feel right. "I guess you disagree, huh?" She pushes herself to her feet and reaches for her bag. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" A beat. "Good night, Yuki."

Yuki is not done eating. The food on the plate suddenly feels uninviting. She finds she cannot eat any more of it, even though she has not finished.

The apartment door slams shut.

The next evening, Yuki Nagato waits. Seven o'clock passes by, blending into eight, shifting into nine. By ten o'clock she realizes she is waiting for a knock on the door which is never going to arrive.

She wants to believe that this is where it ends. Not in a classroom with the sunset casting a glow that should've been warm but ended up feeling cold and malicious. Not in an impromptu war field forged for the sake of a battle that should have never been fought. No, for her it ends here, in the very same room it began.

Months from now, as the world shifts beneath the force of her trembling fingertips, she will allow herself to form a thought. It will be the first time she will have held an idea so concrete. There will be no vagueness in it, no passivity, no 'maybe' or 'what if'.

I want to see you again.