There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle, or the mirror that reflects it.

"Do I have . . . my own light?"

She could barely hear the murmured words as the silver-haired boy shifted his weight from one boot to the other. Her eyes flitted down to his hand as his grip tightened on his blade. His head was bowed in agony, an agony he kept from the eyes of Castle Oblivion, determined not to succumb to weakness.

And yet, here he was, right in front of her, and he couldn't hold it in any longer.

She was worried, of course, about Sora fighting the pink-haired demon in the next room, but the pain right in front of her was too much for her to bear. Though his back was turned to her, she extended her fingertips towards him, sensing how lost he was.

"Riku . . ."

"No." He bristled, and turned his head just slightly so he could target her with his eyes of ice. "Don't call me that. That's his name . . . The real one. He can have his stupid name!" His raised voice bounced off the white walls unintentionally. She saw his fist clench again.

The blond hesitated, her hand dropping slightly. She didn't know what to call him . . . 'Replica' would sound much too unfeeling, much too cruel. Intentional cruelty wasn't her style. And if he would refuse the name 'Riku' . . .

She sighed, her own blue eyes dropping to the floor. She didn't notice as he turned around to face her, or his pained expression.

"Naminé . . ." She glanced up through her lashes, meeting his gaze, which was slightly flustered. He grumbled out an apology. "Sorry. Don't . . . be sad. It's . . . unbearable to watch." With a finger, he gently tilted her face up. His own expression was soft. "It makes me feel like I'm going back on my promise . . . my promise to protect you."

Her eyebrows raised, and then puckered as she thought, Yes . . . The fake one. The one I implanted in you . . . I'm so, so sorry.

As if he could read her mind, his hand dropped back to his side, and his cold eyes became bitter. "Yeah. It wasn't real. But I'm not really, either. I might as well cling to as many fake things as I can."

He turned away and spat out, "I'm just an imitation. A . . . a reflection."

"Even a reflection can have its own light," she insisted, brushing a strand of blond hair away from her rosy cheeks. He didn't move, so she pressed on, "There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle, or the mirror that reflects it. You do too have a light, please understand that. It may have come from some place else, but you let it spread in your own way. You are you, and you are no one else."

There was a pause. "Yes. I suppose . . . You're right. I ought to establish I'm me."

She wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, and she wasn't sure how to ask - so they sat in silence for a while.

And suddenly Sora was back, and there was a reunion, and then the replica - no, reflection - was gone, having fled to some dark corridor of the Castle.

Perhaps . . . Perhaps if she had warned him not try and snuff out the candle, if she had asked him what he meant by establishing his own existence, she could have avoided his untimely end.

She had felt the blow when he had ended. She still felt the pain. Even if no one else did.

The mirror had shattered, and the reflection was gone.

A/N: It's two AM. So don't kill me for fail writing. Also, it's my first thing under this account - but not my first thing ever, considering I did have a previous account. I'll admit, I've grown quite fond of this pairing. You should maybe expect more in the future. And you should also consider reviewing, hinthint. With that, I should probably sleep now.

Oh, but first, the disclaimer (put at the end for no apparent reason): I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any of the characters mentioned here. I also don't own the quote "There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it." I'm not exactly sure who it is owned by, but it's not mine.