To Want and Not To Have - NanaGo

Chapter 1

Nanami looks at the clock at the bottom right of his screen; almost three. The Tokyo market is about to close. Only a few more minutes before he can get a headstart on the other tasks that await him. He's looking forward to it; at least when he prepares end-of-day reports for his clients, he can do it quietly, without having to talk to anyone. It's probably the task he enjoys the most, because he has an excuse to keep to himself.

Around him, the office buzzes with quiet conversation. Phones ring. Keyboard keys clack. Someone coughs. Another shifts on their squeaky chair. Further away, in the corner nearest the windows where he has his cubicle, Nanami's boss chats loudly with his secretary, peppering his sentences with the odd English expressions he's picked from watching too many western-style television shows. His voice grates on Nanami's ears – it seems it's the only thing he can focus on right now.

He returns his eyes to the screen; two minutes to go. A bit of tension leaks out of his shoulders. He knows he's going to be here up until at least eight or nine this evening, but if he can work on his own, at least it won't be too bad. There are too many people crammed in this office. It's sometimes difficult to get anything done with the noise of chatter all around him. There are days when it feels like Nanami can't take a breath without someone bursting his bubble.

Finally, the clock reaches three. There's a collective sigh as the stock market closes for the day. Nanami allows his mind to wander a little as he pulls out one of his clients' files. He still hasn't eaten his lunch and he considers fetching the sandwich he bought from that bakery that morning - but he decides to get this file done first. He isn't really hungry yet, and he spots his boss making his rounds out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps if Nanami stays very quiet right there, he'll go unnoticed.

For a while, he makes annotations and updates his client's portfolio, noting with satisfaction that he's made the man a bit of money. It's nothing to write home about, nothing like the kind of money Nanami makes, but it's better than nothing.

Once done with this file, he chooses the next. He quickly scans the client's information until his gaze catches on the person's address. He frowns – there have been a few odd incidents around that neighbourhood over the past few months. The news refers to it as inexplicable events of an unidentifiable nature. Rumours have it that there might be either a serial killer on the loose or a vengeful ghost.

Nanami knows it's the work of a cursed spirit. He's been around those long enough in his teenage years to recognise them.

He curses under his breath as memories of another life assault him. He turns away from the screen, closing the file to revisit later. He doesn't want to think back on those years, on those messed up events. He doesn't want to remember what he's left behind or the fact that he might have just guaranteed his own survival by walking away.

Or that his departure might have spelled the death of more fellow sorcerers.

He gives his head a minute shake to dislodge those thoughts. No, not fellow sorcerers, only sorcerers. Nanami is no longer a sorcerer. He made sure of it when he left that world a couple of years ago. Since then, he's made sure to sever all ties. He studied like crazy at a regular university, taking evening classes and weekend private tutoring to graduate and secure a job. Now that he has a good job at a firm with a spotless reputation, he needs to focus on it. He needs to focus on the future. He cannot allow his mind to linger on the past or on regrets.

Mercifully, the next file he pulls up requires all of his attention.

For a while, he goes over his client's information, editing data and making notes. He sinks into the task gratefully, ignoring everything and everyone around him. The day drags on, afternoon bleeding into evening. His coworkers talk amongst themselves. The air smells of freshly brewed coffee.