|Somebody Told Me
Author: kitfallen PM
Sora was born into this world, but Roxas and Naminé weren’t so lucky. Thankfully, Sora is generous and gives their souls a place to stay. AU. Marluxia/Naminé, Axel/Roxas, Riku/Sora/Kairi. Multiplicity, Multiple Personality Disorder, MPD/DID.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Drama - Naminé & Roxas - Chapters: 3 - Words: 5,892 - Reviews: 10 - Favs: 9 - Follows: 15 - Updated: 06-23-09 - Published: 12-28-08 - id: 4749737
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: Somebody Told Me
Genre: Kingdom Hearts, AU
Pairing: Naminé/Marluxia, Axel/Roxas, Sora/Riku/Kairi
Main Characters: Sora, Roxas, Naminé
Summary: Sora was born into this world, but Roxas and Naminé weren't so lucky. Thankfully, Sora is generous and gives their souls a place to stay.
Prelude "Breaking My Back Just To Know Your Name"
There was a boy, he had brunet hair full of natural sandy blond streaks and eyes as blue as the unpolluted ocean of tropical islands. His clothes were of bright colors, that danced across his skin with a life of their own. His hair was tied back in a messy tail, but that didn't keep most of it from jotting out into the air in every direction it could.
He danced on the beach, sand flung into his hair to match the bits of blond, his mouth open as sounds of pure joy spilled from his laughter.
"C'mon Sora! Pass the ball this way!" Another blond yelled, his spiky hair dimmed by the chaos of the other boy's.
The sandy brunet laughed again, juggling a blue and white canvas ball with his knobby knees. "Tidus keep your pants on."
Other teens, joined in on the infectious laughter.
A certain brunette girl with curls that also defied gravity, trying to catch the eye of the bulkier blond boy, however, he missed it and snorted in a pouting way until a tanned redhead clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Light'n up, Ti," The redhead drawled, patting the other boy's shoulder teasingly.
"Shut it, Wakka." He frowned, but it soon slipped back into a grin.
They continued their play long into the afternoon.
The same boy, his hair seemed to have been tempted into some amount of style, looking more blond than brunet because of this. His hair more neatly bound and tamed into a stylist spiky mess, as apposed to just a spiky mess. The starkness of blacks and whites dominated his wardrobe, bringing out more of the cautious blue in his eyes.
As he sat across from three others in a hidden spot near the trains, those blue eyes weren't as pure as before. This was the same boy who had tossed his head back in childish abandon as he laughed, yet now when laughed it was a guarded chuckle, only vague humor leaking through to his tone.
Still, he traded glances with the gelled blond sitting across from him, both smirking in unison and companionship.
"Roxas, so are you going to be in our school this year?" A petite brunette asked, a nervous, slight smile already on her lips, soon to be erased.
The brunet-streaked blond shrugged, "I doubt it, Olette. I've been talking to my parents."
"And?" The other blond prompted, his mouth tight with the repetition of his conversation.
"Hayner," A pudgy brunet warned as his fingers fiddled with a camera, his eyes stuck on his hands instead of meeting the pointed glare he knew was sent his way.
The dark-haired blond frowned, the rest of the group tightening nervously in their own ways.
The petite girl rolled her green eyes, fingers splayed carefully on her crossed legs, everything screaming polite—that is, until the pudgier brunet poked a finger into her side. He laughed as she huffed playfully at him, her expression negated by the way her body relaxed into the friendship the four shared.
They would forget the conversation for now, instead deciding roaming for ice-cream to be a better plan.
His blue eyes were set wide and thoughtful this time. The boy's hair was down, styled again, but this time into soft curls instead of spikes. Bound no more, the long brunet and blond hair lay draped on the boy's shoulder, framing his face sweetly.
No more stark or bright clothes, now he wore simply pale colored garments, all pinched and padded in ways to shape his body into something vague and unassuming. The outfit was only completed by the slight sandals perching on his feet, almost making the offending appendages to be smaller, sleeker, and, perhaps, even fragile.
"Naminé, surely an art institute would be a better suit for you…"
The boy glanced up from his plate of fries, which he had been delicately picking from, "Marluxia," The name was said in a tone of warning, and partly exasperation, but mostly just to have those sharp, but warm brown eyes snap to the boy's face, "I appreciate your support, but you don't know all the factors into this equation." The boy's voice, which had been carefree, then guarded, was now soft and toneless.
The older teen across from the boy, weaved his lips into a scowl. "Then tell me the factors, Naminé." The scowl should have looked off-balance in the midst of his warm brown hair, styled carefully into a fashionable shag around his face. Yet, somehow, the scowl fit there, carefully between the sharp cruelty, which could spring from those heated eyes in a second, and the soft twinge in his lips, which spoke of caring for the slight and frail-looking boy in front of him.
The curly-haired brunet-blond lowered his head minutely, letting his curls hide his face for a moment. "Sorry, Marls. You know I can't."
A soft edge to his voice, reserved purely for this one being in front of him, "You know I'd do anything to help you, right?" Then in a flatter, but more dangerous tone, "Is it your parents? You won't let me meet them. Are they doing something to you?" Safe, but precarious brown eyes met soft blue. He said the last as almost an afterthought, tossed in with a disregard for its meaning, "I'll kill them for you," Yet knowing he meant it in as pure a truth as the older teen could manage.
The meek boy shook his head sharply, "No. They have shown nothing but kindness to me."
The taller brunet kept the scowl, but leaned back, nibbling on a fry he'd nabbed from the other's plate. Together they lapsed into silence, not uncomfortable, but not friendly, though either seemed to notice.
But that was their way. They ate together in solitude until the bell tower doled out eight o'clock.
Inside his head was chaos sometimes.
"Mum, I'm home!"
He pocketed the key, closing the screen door, with a twhap, behind him.
"Oh Sora! Did you have a good day? Come here, sweetie."
Sometimes it was hard, knowing who was who. Sometimes it was completely overwhelming.
The sandy-headed brunet plopped down next to his parents, returning their welcoming grins with one of his own.
"Yeah, today was perfect." He said in a tone that was carefree, guarded, and soft all at the same time.
And… sometimes, it was just right.
A/N: Sora, Roxas, and Nam' are an example of a healthy, natural Multiple. This is a real term, used to describe people who share the same body. Technically they would be said to have Dissociative Identity Disorder (it used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder), which is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a condition in which a single person displays multiple distinct identities or personalities (known as alter egos or alters), each with its own pattern of perceiving and interacting with the environment. In this story, Sora is the 'original' front, the one who 'came first' and therefore the decision among them is that it is 'his body'.
Sora, Roxas, and Nam' are a natural Multiple, meaning they came about without any sort of child abuse, which psychologists currently claim causes Multiplicity. They are also what's called a 'healthy' system/Multiple, which means that they all work together to live a normal life. I know people who deal with these situations everyday--they are not 'crazy', just stuck interacting through only one body, when they should have had more. There is a lot of argument over the treatment of Multiples in therapy and in culture, and so a lot of what I feel is true, is not 'offically' correct. Hence, why wikipedia probably disagrees with me. If you would like to know more I suggest looking through astraeasweb. net/ plural/faq. html (without the spaces, of course).