Author: idiotique PM
Just a day, just an ordinary day.Rated: Fiction K - English - Romance/Angst - Naminé & Roxas - Words: 3,467 - Reviews: 27 - Favs: 58 - Follows: 5 - Published: 04-02-09 - Status: Complete - id: 4965616
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Just a day, just an ordinary day.
On an ordinary day she would be drawing. In the centre of her white room she sat at her white table, her flaxen head bent over her newest creation and her unnaturally steady hand skimming across the paper. She splashed the white page in an array of colours, making sure all of them had equal use.
When she was finished with her drawing she moved to tack it up on one of the white walls. All four walls were smothered with her work; she made sure that every inch was covered. She drew because she wanted more colour in the room. She drew because she wanted to forget that she was here, encased in her white prison with no memory of a home to escape to.
"Naminé," A sinister voice crooned; a black and purple portal opened up from one of the walls and she sighed, dropping her pencil.
She also drew to forget them.
Sometimes, on an ordinary day, the three people she considered her only friends would take the time to visit her.
"These are so good," Axel rubbed the back of his spiky head as he bent over to examine one of the pictures. "I can't even dream of drawing something as realistic as this."
"Thank you." She breathed in her soft voice; out of the three of them, Axel was the kindest.
"You don't even need to draw that well to do what you're supposed to be doing," Zexion's drawl came from the opposite end of the table; he was the least nicest out of the three but Axel insisted that it was just the way he was. "They're only memories."
"Well, you can't blame her," Demyx leaned backwards in his chair, placing his hands behind his head; the musician was the sweetest and most thoughtful. "I'd take my time on them too if I was stuck in here all day."
"Ah, you're just jealous." Axel smirked, and Zexion rolled his eyes. Demyx laughed and she even cracked a small smile.
"We should get going." Demyx stood, and Zexion followed suit. "Marluxia's gonna throw a fit if we don't get to Port Royal soon." The three men wandered over to the door. "See ya, Naminé. Don't get too bored without us." He closed the door quietly behind him, and she was on her own again, encased within the same four white walls.
On an ordinary day, Larxene or Marluxia would come and torment her.
"You're only half a person," Larxene sneered, "You're not supposed to exist. You're a Nobody just like me and the rest of the Organization, but unlike us you're weak. You can't do anything but sit inside this stupid room all day and draw pretty pictures. Makes me wonder just what kind of person your Other is."
Marluxia's long fingers stuck through the bars of the birdcage dangling above. "This," He said cuttingly, poking the little doll inside, "Is to remind you that you are a prisoner here, and that you cannot leave. Why even bother anyway? You don't have anywhere else to go." His fingertips grazed the small wings protruding out of the doll's back. "Even wings are useless when you don't have someplace to be."
She stared down at her lap as they cackled cruelly, tears stinging her eyes. She could not find the right words to fight back because she did not know how to.
On an ordinary night she would be fast asleep, secure and warm and far away from the room that held her captive and the people that despised her for reasons she did not know.
"I found him in Twilight Town," Axel's muffled voice could still be heard clearly. She sat upright with her back pressed against the wall and her fists clutching the sheets up to her chin; her eyes remained on the closed door, where she could make out the elongated shadows of their boots from the crack of light that leaked in from the bottom. "Had no idea where he was or where he came from; he only knew his name."
"No memory of his past at all?" That lazy drone had to come from Zexion.
She heard the tassels and buckles of someone's cloak jostle. "Nope."
"Just like Naminé…"
Axel laughed. "Kid's impossible to hold down, though; he's got skill. Doesn't like to be bothered much."
"Of course it would be difficult - the Keyblade chose him, after all."
"The Key of Destiny." Axel scoffed. There was the sound of their boots clopping away, and everything fell silent.
She was sketching a glowing rose floating inside a glass case when they met for the first time.
The door unexpectedly burst open and he stumbled through. "Whoa!" It looked like he was going to fall but he caught himself at the last minute and stood up straight, dusting off his black coat. She tilted her head to the side, examining him; his dark blond hair looked spiky and messy at the same time and his features were boyish yet firm. He finally noticed her staring at him and he stepped back cautiously; she was taken aback at how blue his eyes were.
Just a boy, just an ordinary boy.
"Er, sorry," He rubbed the back of his head, grinning sheepishly; his smile had an eerie familiar feel to it, like she had seen it somewhere before. "I didn't mean-"
She shook her head and smiled softly, pressing her index finger against her lips. She wanted to laugh when he gulped and dropped his hand. "It's okay."
He grinned again, and the odd feeling struck her a second time. "I'm Roxas."
She placed a hand on her chest. "My name is Naminé."
"Why don't I ever see you around?" He was about to continue when Axel barged in, his chakrams flailing frantically above his head.
"There you are!" The taller man gritted his teeth. "Idiot, you're not supposed to be in here!"
"What, am I not allowed to talk to Naminé?" The blue in his eyes burned.
Axel sighed, defeated; he flicked his wrists and his weapons disappeared in a surge of flames. "Great, you're on a first-name basis. Marluxia's gonna have my head for this…"
"Alright, alright," The seemingly ordinary boy shook his head and he turned to face her once more. It looked like he was going to say something but Axel had already dragged him out of the room before he had the chance to. She was smiling to herself as she returned to her drawing, however; the look he gave her was enough.
He would see her again.
The more time she spent with him the more she came to realize that he was actually very far from ordinary.
He visited her almost every day, stealing as much time with her as he possibly could. He frequently brought boxes of his favourite ice cream which eventually became her favourite too. She noticed that he would sit beside her for nearly hours at a time, just watching her draw memory after memory; he never complained of boredom like Axel and Demyx did.
"Aren't you bored?" She asked him one day, turning away from her sketchbook to stare up into the eyes she was so fascinated with. "All you ever do here is watch me draw."
He smiled for her, and she felt strange inside. "No," His voice was low as his fingers skimmed over the outline of a red-haired girl. "Watching you draw gives me...a sort of déjà vu, I guess. I look at your pictures...and I feel like I've been there before."
Her brow furrowed as she reached for a red crayon. "Strange."
He lowered his head a little. "Yeah."
"Do you ever dream?" He placed his hand over hers, pushing his fingers in between the spaces and squeezing gently.
"No, not really. Why?"
"Hm," He murmured; his expression caused her to cock her head to the side. He reached for her other hand; his thumbs were rubbing circles in the centre of her palms. He turned to look at her and she became overwhelmed by the smouldering blue that looked so ready to sweep her away. "Is that why you draw all the time? To make up for the dreams you'll never have?"
She blinked, her mouth slightly agape. "I...I never thought of it like that before."
He smiled and pulled away, gesturing for her to continue.
"Stupid girl," Larxene spat, "Nobodies can't feel - they only remember what it was like. Since you have no memory of your other life, you don't know what it's like to have a heart, let alone emotions!" She disappeared behind the purple and black fog.
Clutching the hem of her dress and biting her lip, she sat alone, watching the tears drip onto her knuckles.
"What do you mean by Nobodies can't feel?" He stood up and slammed his fist onto the table, frightening her. She cowered in her seat, feeling weaker than she usually did. She watched him as he approached her slowly, hesitantly.
"W-we don't have hearts," The tears were threatening to fall and she forced her gaze downward. "How can we feel if we don't have hearts?"
He exhaled loudly. "Tell me if you feel something." She felt his hands on either side of her face, and suddenly she was closing her eyes, taking in the warmth that was moving against her lips.
She opened her eyes when she no longer felt him against her; their foreheads were pressed together and their mouths were inches apart. Her head felt congested and she could not feel her legs. She felt the tears trickling freely down her face, but he reached up to wipe them away. She sniffled, wrapping her arms around his chest and ducking under his chin.
After that, nothing was really ordinary anymore.
"What happened to you?"
He had just stepped into her room sporting a bruised eye and a cut lip; a fresh gash on the side of his head simpered at her as he made his way towards her chair. She buried her face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of well-worn leather and something else that she could only describe as him.
"All in a day's work." He replied simply, his voice hoarse. He rubbed her back as she cried for the both of them.
They laid together one night, their arms wound around each other. He spoke in a dulcet tone, as if he was coaxing a child to sleep.
"Nobodies are half of somebody," He said, shifting downwards to nuzzle his head against her neck, "So when we're together, we make up one person. We feel. We exist," He kissed her collarbone, "And when we're apart...we don't because we go back to being only a part of something."
Her fingers pulled through his hair. "So...we shouldn't be apart too often, then."
She felt him smile against her shoulder. "Exactly."
"Don't call yourself that," His words were sharp and they caught her off guard. "A witch is an old hag with warts and a long nose."
She could not help but smile. "So what am I, then? I can't be human...humans can't do the things I can do."
He hesitated for a moment, as if he was afraid of what to say. Finally he approached her, taking her hands in his. "An angel."
Her pale brow scrunched together. "But angels have wings."
He drew her to him, fastening his arms around her and kissing her hair. "Sometimes they're a little hard to see."
"He hasn't been acting strange around you lately?" Axel had come to visit her today. He was leaning against the edge of the table, his eyes unreadable. She only shook her head, too busy to talk. She was halfway finished with a drawing of a boy in black; in his hands were two key-shaped weapons.
"He hasn't been saying much, and he always looks like he's thinking about something," The red-haired man continued, "But then again he kinda always looks like that."
She paused for a moment, looking up at her friend. "Maybe you're just thinking too much."
Axel laughed, but there was a melancholy edge to it. "Yeah, maybe."
As the days passed, she began to notice the change.
He sat by her side today like always but he did not say a word. He was hunched over, his eyes glazed and his mouth curved downwards in a deep frown. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, worry tickling her insides.
"Naminé," He finally spoke, and she immediately dropped her pencil.
"I've been having really weird dreams," He said in a quiet, faraway voice, "Flashes of things that I don't recognize, but at the same time I feel like it's happened before."
"Those are memories, Roxas. You're starting to remember your past." She reached out to touch his shoulder but he shrunk away, much to her surprise. She drew back, hurt resonating in her hollow chest.
"I've seen some of those things before...in your pictures." He looked up; she saw the pain in his stare and she had to repress the urge to reach out towards him again. "What does this mean?"
She shook her head, her hands curled into fists against her chest. She stared at her partially completed drawing; she still had to colour in his eyes.
"I don't know."
He came to her room in the middle of the night staggering inside, just like the first time. She bolted upwards, her eyes wide and her knuckles ashen as she gripped the sheets.
"I had to see you," He sounded out of breath. He made it over to her bed in a few short strides and sat on the edge. "One last time."
She did not understand his cryptic words but she felt afraid nonetheless. She crawled over to him, closing her eyes against his chest and her thin arms encircling his body. She felt his hands on the small of her back and his lips moving against her hair.
"The heart is the most important part to any living thing," He whispered, "Without it, they can't survive. They need it to exist, to feel - it's everything."
"I don't understand," She cried, her voice cracking under the weight of unshed tears; she did not know why she felt like crying, "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because," He pulled away to look at her properly; he was smiling her smile, the crooked grin that was so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. "You are my heart. You are everything." He leaned in to close the space between them. She closed her eyes again, reveling in the warmth that radiated from him.
He broke the kiss unexpectedly, but he remained close; he pressed the side of his head against hers. "I have to go - Axel's waiting for me." He released her to stand up, and she shivered. He bent over to cup her chin and he kissed her again, albeit briefly. "I'll find you again, one way or another. I promise."
When she was no longer able to see his shadow from the crack of light under her door the tears began to fall.
The next morning Axel came to visit. He was alone.
"He said that no one would miss him." The red-haired man laughed bitterly and shook his head. "No one." He nearly spat his last words.
She did the first thing that came to mind; she wrapped her arms around his taller figure and buried her face into his coat. She felt his gloved hands rubbing her back awkwardly, yet soothingly at the same time.
"He was always an idiot." He muttered, and she swore she heard him fight back a sob.
Just a day, just an ordinary day.
Her new prison was not very different from the last, but at least she had a window now. DiZ was not exactly kind, but he treated her with more respect than Larxene and Marluxia did.
She was drawing him again, her hand flicking upwards against the paper; she discovered some time ago that this was the only way to get the spikes in his hair right.
A figure in black with his hood obscuring his face appeared out of a black and purple hole in the wall. "I found him." He said emotionlessly. Immediately her head jerked upwards, her drawing forgotten. The hooded man approached her slowly, the portal behind him swirling animatedly. "Would you like to see him?"
He was unconscious in the underground computer room, slumped against the wall and his arms listless by his sides. She felt DiZ and the hooded figure's eyes on her back as she knelt in front of him.
"He's going to need a new personality to throw off his pursuers." DiZ said, "When he wakes up he won't have any memory of his time with the Organization...or with you."
A lump formed in her throat as she reached forward to brush his bangs out of the way.
He looked happier than he did in a long time, and that sufficed for now.
She watched him carefully: she would cheer for him when he won a Struggle match and she would wince when he fell off his skateboard. She felt angry for him when Seifer mocked him and she would feel embarrassed for him when Hayner called him out on something.
Just a boy, just an ordinary boy.
He looked better in white, anyway.
She could not take it anymore.
She just had to - she did not care what DiZ would say later.
He blinked at her, bewildered. "Uh...hi...and you are?"
The confusion in his aquamarine stare drove into her like pins, but she retained her smile. "I wanted to meet you...at least once."
There was no time left.
"You won't disappear," She reassured him; DiZ was fast approaching. "You'll be whole!"
His eyes widened in horror. "I'll...disappear…?"
A gloved hand clamped over her mouth. "No further outbursts!"
He stepped forward, his hands balling into fists. "Wait!" His voice was pleading; she searched his face and suddenly she knew what he was trying to say.
You can't leave.
Not when I just found you again.
She managed to pry DiZ's hand away. "Roxas! We will meet again, and then we can talk about everything. I may not know it's you, and you may not know it's me, but we will meet again! Someday soon, I promise!"
"Let her go!" He growled, but it was too late.
She heard him scream her name one last time before the black and purple fog swallowed her whole.
It was not the same, but it was enough and she could not ask for anything more.
"So," She smiled at him; through his translucent figure she could see the shock on Sora's face. "We can be together again."
"Right," The look he gave her made her feel as if he knew what she meant when she said together again. He moved to stand beside her; he was smiling her favourite crooked smile, the one she missed so dearly. "Anytime Sora and Kairi are together."
Her Other nodded. "We'll be together everyday. Right, Sora?"
The brown-haired boy grinned, and the strange familiar-yet-unfamiliar feeling came back. "Uh...yeah!"
Kairi reached for her, and she closed her eyes.
When she spotted Sora swimming hastily towards the shore she searched for him, but all she could see was spiky brown hair and black clothing. When Donald and Goofy knocked Sora back into the water, suffocating him with hugs, all she could hear was Sora's laughter. When they finally reached the shore, all she could see was Sora. She only heard Sora.
But when he looked up to smile at her, she saw dark blond hair sticking straight up like it always did, and she heard the low rumble of his shy chuckle. The setting sun was glinting in his blue depths. The crooked grin he was wearing told her that he could see her too.
"We're back," He said.
She held her hand out towards him.
A/N: Inspired by Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton.