SNAPSHOTS

--let's go shoot summer stars. ((NaminéxRepliku))

It was strange, seeing a human form incubate, floating in green-blue liquid, motionless. The oddness of it all actually surpassed the unusual appearance of the youth within – long silver hair, slim, muscled, a tight-fitting body suit, of all things – and she had seen some weird-looking people in her lifetime. And yet for all of the difference, Naminé almost felt like she was looking at a normal human boy.

As she watched it 'grow', she began to talk to it, like Vexen had instructed her to, the first time he had brought her down to one of his many laboratories. She told of carefree days on the Destiny Islands, and nights spent telling spooky ghost stories. She told it the legend of the paopu fruit, and with a somewhat bitter smile, of the times the inseperable trio had shared.

Sora, Kairi and Riku.

She told it so many things, often illustrating each tale with a bright little sketch in her drawing pad, until the day those startlingly beautiful aquamarine eyes opened and it became a he.

Then, she spent countless hours speaking to him of the most mundane things, and he'd never say a word, but sat stock-still and wonderfully alert, the perfect attentive listener.

He believed every single thing she said, too. His was a very young mind, and therefore easily impressionable, but it was aging every day and thus she was careful to tell him only the 'important truths'.

Every truth was a falsehood, though, and he lived on them, relied on them to give meaning to his existence, and sometimes even Naminé found herself believing the lies, found herself wondering, if you believed them, were lies still lies?

Gradually, he began spending more time with the others, honing his fighting skills and learning how to barb a sentence so as to make it deadly, but he always came back to her, to sit patiently through an endless deluge of softly-spoken stories, as though she was his mother. She wasn't, of course, but still she often found herself gifting him with a softer smile for longer than was needed.

Eventually, she told him of the Secret Place, and the old seaside shack, and the small island with the paopu growing on it, the one Riku – and now he – was so fond of.

And lastly, she told him of all the promises between Sora and Kairi, Kairi and Riku, Riku and Sora, Sora and Riku and Kairi.

When that fateful day – or night, perhaps, or twilight, it was impossible to tell in the castle – came, and he, the boy she had so lovingly molded – he realised he wasn't Riku, but a replica, and she was only Naminé, not Kairi.

And despite being a fake, his death seemed real enough, and as she knelt by his side and he wasted away in mere minutes, he whispered something to her; one of those false memories, a promise she and he had made when she was five and he was a little boy of not-quite-almost seven.

Even though they had never really made it – and neither had Kairi and Riku, for it was just a silly little figment of Naminé's imagination, and prompted by a song she'd heard once somewhere – despite all that, it nearly broke her fragile glass heart when the replica who was like a real boy to her smiled, ever so gently and painfully, and murmured to her, "Let's go shoot summer stars…"

And then he was gone, and those dreams she'd long harboured, of sitting on a beach with him and midnight and talkingplayingwishing… they all vanished with him, into the cold air like smoke.

Fin.


Inspired by Little Birdy lyrics. The song Music, from their album Hollywood. Check it out, it's gorgeous. This little piece reminds me of a fairytale. Um, wrote on a whim. For anyone. Happy late birthday to meeeee. I'm legal now, hah.

Tally-person-sock.