Why the hell are these fun to do?

You might have noticed, people who read this fic, that it's not on my schedule and there's a good reason for that.

I work on this one whenever I want since it's like my boredom story... and considering that there's three more possible chapters currently in production that's good news for you!

Anyway, here's your disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts is not mine, and so therefore Xion is not my creation and does not belong to me in any shape, way or form.

I just happen to be a fan. Cause she's that awesome.

Yes, I know that she's not a Nobody. She is in fact, a Replica… though that technically is a special brand of artificial Nobody.

But dammit, she's an Organization member (kinda?) and therefore she counts (I guess?)!

As usual, I've taken a few liberties to make it a bit better. It's kinda my job as a fan-fiction writer.


I've always wondered about the first week that I was in the Organization.

I could barely remember it, the first hazy week of my existence.

But sometimes I think that I remember the moment in which I was awakened from my creation.

Even now, I wonder if it was all a dream… but then again, the dream of a Replica isn't worth much, is it?

My past memories, or at least the few ones that I remember, are nothing but the memory of someone else.

I wonder constantly:

Who am I? What am I even here for?

Am I not supposed to have ever existed?

I've asked why they created me.

There was no purpose: they easily could have made someone else. But instead, I was made.

Why?

These "feelings" of loneliness and betrayal… why would they make me if only to feel that?

I feel horrible about that. About hurting my friends.

The first time I met them, I never would have thought that they would become so important to me.

All they were then were two more numbers, two more faces in a room of thirteen.


The experiment was succeeding successfully.

Each one of the various tanks had a single specimen of the Replication Project, each person inside representing a valuable sample of the combined use of a somewhat crude use of sorcery and a more refined technology.

Once the size of a mere dot, they had quickly matured into various stages growth that ranged from a mere infant to a full grown adult.

Until they quickly began to fail and die.

One by one, they were discarded, rendered completely useless until there were only one of the original batch left.

The specimen was a raven haired girl who was significantly less advanced in her growth than the others had been; she looked almost exactly like the most innocent of children and looked like she was no older than fourteen years old.

She was immobile in her floating prison; she had a calm expression as she slept, dreaming of another place and another time.

The girl would occasionally twitch, the memory of movement coursing through her frail limbs as she simulated her dreams with these sporadic motions.


Opening her expressionless eyes, she saw nothing.

Nothing but a strange whiteness.

She couldn't move and she couldn't breathe. At least not on her own.

Her small hands were strapped tightly to the sides of the tank and the bottom portion of her face was covered in a plastic mask which let in oxygen and took away carbon dioxide in a series of complex tubing built into the sides of the tank.

The girl didn't understand where she was nor who she was.

She was like the simplest child without the single conception of right or wrong, normal and abnormal.

She simply accepted her environment as ordinary and fell back into a dream stricken sleep.

She dreamt of the heat of the sun, the delicious coldness of water splashing against her skin, the smell of salt in the air as she ran, ran, ran.

She dreamt of an intense joy that she had never felt before in the short span of her life.

She dreamt of playing in a far off island and her slender limbs mimicked the motions that she did in her sleep as she continued to grew alone in that isolated tank.

She dreamt of being someone else, of being another person, someone far, far away.


One day, she began to hear.

The first thing that the girl heard was an icy voice speaking to her as if it thought she could actually understand.

It was a male voice, a little high pitched but needlessly excited as the older man tapped at the tank.

"Fascinating… You have grown well, No. I. Soon you will be ready to emerge, dear girl." Then the old man began to laugh in a strange way, sending the sleeping girl twitching at the slightly unsettling noise.

"It's female?" An equally as icy voice asks curiously as a sudden thudding noise echoes throughout the tank as the man taps the glass.

She winces, not liking the sensation.

"Yes, well, Saïx, she is. Due to the instability of Roxas's fragmented memories, I had to use the most prominent memory that he had. It so happened to be the memory of the Seventh Princess of Heart. But rest assured; No. I. is in fact a successful Replication of our little Keyblade Wielder." The first voice says in a calm voice as the girl finally opens her eyes.

She observes the two men in vague curiosity; they themselves didn't notice that they were being watched since they had their backs to her and were too engrossed into their own conversation.

"I didn't know that the Superior had asked for… this… thing, Vexen." Saïx says as his companion looks at him with a furious grimace.

The older man sweeps back his strangely long blonde hair from his shoulder and laughs mockingly.

"Such a pity to be so ignorant. As you're only able to see the surface of things, I should not expect you to appreciate No. I's true strength." Vexen comments, an arrogantly icy smile on his face.

Saïx scoffs and turns back to look at the Replica but she had already began to fall back into her deep sleep.


As the girl slept, she began to dream strange things.

She dreamed that she was someone else and that this person was waiting for someone.

As the girl waited impatiently in her dream, she would practice sword fighting by herself by sparring a peculiar tree with a crude wooden sword.

Occasionally, she would knock off one of the small star-shaped fruits of the tree, sending it flying with a loud splash into the water.

She always felt a bit proud when this would happen; she felt just a bit stronger each time it would happen.

Finally, she had grown tired and she sat in the crook of the tree, sitting quietly and staring at the glittering waters and at the setting sun with a peaceful feeling in her heart.

"Have you been waiting here aaaall day?" A friendly voice demands teasingly and the girl turns, a sudden excited expression spreading across her face as she spots someone.

She wasn't really sure who the person was but the girl knew that she was a friend.

The red haired girl standing there on the bridge looks vaguely impressed at the girl's feat of patience and walks over to her, taking a seat right next to her on the tree's trunk.

"Wow, you must have been really bored without anyone to keep you company! "The girl laughs with a pleasant smile on her delicate features.

The other girl frowns at this; why had the names that had come to mind suddenly gone fuzzy when she tried to remember? She didn't understand…

"Oh, I brought you something! Here; this is a Thalassa shell. My dad said that they're used to make lucky charms for sailors. It's supposed to bring them home safely. So… I wanted you to have it." The red haired girl hands over a small shape which the dreaming girl takes.

She stares at it in wonder; marveling at how neat the pink and yellow shell's lines and curves were made.

She holds it up to the orange-red sunlight of the setting sun and stares at it with a strangely sad feeling in her chest but she still manages to smile faintly.

The other girl notices this and grins.

"You do like it! I thought… you know, cause he said it would be kind of a dumb gift cause we live where…and that you wouldn't… But you do! And that's great." the friendly girl stammers out with a relieved and slightly shy smile.

The two girls remain silent for a few moments; the quiet was only combated when the dreamer scoops up a few pebbles and starts flicking them expertly into the water.

"You're so weird sometimes!" The other girl laughs and the dreamer smiles at the girl, feeling completely safe and calm in her friend's cheerful presence.


The girl kept dreaming such dreams as she continued playing alone on the small island of her ever fading memories.

Occasionally, there would be someone else with her, but these phantom friends would disappear as quickly they would appear.

The red haired girl that had given her the Thalassa shell vanished as well but every so often, the dreamer would remember the gift and wonder where she had gone.

Soon, all the happy moments of play blended into one long vague memory.

She would have happily spent the rest of her life in these dreams, blissfully ignorant of the fact that they were all false memories.


"No. I?" A voice asks, shocking the sleeping girl out of her dream of building a sand castle abruptly.

The person speaking shakes her violently, even going as far as to slap her in order to try to force her awake.

The girl didn't understand the sudden pain, only knowing that she didn't like the harsh contact.

"You must remain awake! Awaken, you useless child!" The man shouts, his earsplitting voice making the girl wince in pain as the harsh noise enters her pounding head.

She finally opens her eyes, staring up at the white ceiling and wondering why the sky had suddenly turned such a stark white color.

She blinks and continues to lie weakly in the bed, her expression continuing to be a blank one as she wonders vaguely where she was.

Her head was throbbing with the echoes of phantom pain as the man sitting next to her on a chair forces her to sit up.

He quickly gives her a bundle of clothes and instructs the dazed girl how to dress herself.

The simple clothing was easy enough to put on, even if Vexen had to correct her a few times when she attempted to put her black dress on backwards or when she slipped her hands into her socks like they were gloves.

As she dresses, the soft sensation of the clothes' material brushing against her skin feels somewhat familiar and very soothing.

This simple thought makes her smile vaguely at them even though she wasn't sure why.

"Are you done yet, No. I? I must take you to the Superior soon… he wants to see your progress. No, put that down!" Vexen snaps as the girl wanders over to a small table and stares blankly at a small Petri dish.

The greenish goop inside seemed familiar to her and she was about to pick it up to take a better look at its contents when Vexen grabs her wrist in a firm grip and yanks her away from the table.

"No! Don't touch it, No. I! Honestly… I'm a scientist, not a baby sitter. If it wasn't for the Superior's orders, I would not bother with such coddling! You are nothing more than a tool… a childlike tool at that." He mumbles to himself, his greenish eyes staring at the young girl before him as if she was an interesting puzzle that he longed to take apart.

No. I stares at him blankly, her vacant blue eyes showing that she didn't understand a word that the elderly man had just said.

He rolls his eyes impatiently and drags her over to a small cot, making a sign for her to sit down on it.

She does and he immediately starts moving towards the door.

"Stay here, No. I. If you move, I shall have to punish- Stop that!" Vexen snarls icily; No. I immediately stops fidgeting and folds her hands neatly in her lap.

He smiles at this and chuckles in a rather cold way as No. I waits patiently for him to continue speaking.

Somewhere in the dark recesses of her still developing mind, she dimly realizes that Vexen (as she assumed that he was called from her earlier encounter) was a person of authority.

She instinctively knew that it was in her benefit to probably obey his commands.

Even if she had no idea what he was trying to tell her.

"Now. I shall be bringing someone here to meet you, No. I. Do try to behave." He says in that continuously aloof voice, his icy green eyes sparkling with some admiration as No. I bows respectfully to him and nods robotically.

He quickly leaves, smiling to himself as he finally gets a semblance of the respect that he believed that he deserved.


No. I waits quietly for her creator to come back, barely even breathing as she follows his order practically to the letter.

As she sits there, she looks around the room cautiously without even moving her head, using only her eyes to observe her surroundings.

It was some sort of laboratory and the things that she could see attested to that fact.

Even with the limited breathing she allowed herself, No. I wrinkles her nose form the stench of foul smelling chemicals and a few unnamed substances that she didn't think she could identify any further except that perhaps they had once been alive at one point.

There was a continuous bubbling noise as flasks and vials that were being heated reached their boiling point and continued to heat up.

The otherwise white walls were covered in black scorch marks from recent explosions; there were even faint dents where something had shot out of its container and smacked into the walls, floor and ceiling.

The girl observes this quietly and continues to wait.


"Extraordinary." An arctic-like voice murmurs in appreciation as No. I turns to look at Vexen and an unknown man walk into the lab.

Vexen's green eyes gleam with an icy excitement when he sees that she hadn't moved from her place on the bed and he turns triumphantly to his companion.

"Yes, Superior, thank you. As I've mentioned before… This child is No. I, the first successful creation of the Replication project, Lord Xemnas." Vexen says with a broad smile as he points at No. I. who stares at him blankly.

She dimly realizes that the words "Replication project" must be important but she didn't understand what they had to do with her nor why Vexen looked so proud as the gray haired man observed her calmly.

He walks around the bed, looking at every nook and cranny of her visible body and nodding solemnly.

No. I shifts slightly under that piercing glare, feeling a sudden strange prickling sensation on her flesh. She begins to tremble ever so slightly under the man's strange eyes. She forces herself to remain sitting in that same perfect posture even as the man chuckles darkly.

"A perfect Replication. I expected nothing less from you, Number IV." Xemnas says as he waves an idle hand over No. I's head.

In an instant, the three letters of the girl's name appear above her, joined by a single 'X' and begin to spin in a dizzying dance.

Transfixed by the sudden appearance of the golden letters, she watches as the light of these characters spins around her splash rainbow tints everywhere as they spell out a brand new word:

X.

I.

O.

N.

"Xion. Number XIV." Xemnas announces, naming the girl once and for all.

"Xion" looks blankly at him and wonders why Vexen's expression had suddenly changed into one of frosty surprise.

She didn't understand this new development and she didn't understand the significance of the black cloak that Xemnas had draped around her shoulders.

"Have her ready to come to the Round Room, number IV. I think she should be ready in about a hour." He says in that same monotone voice, now laced with a tinge of mysterious excitement.

He claps Xion encouragingly on the back and vanishes into a black vortex, leaving Xion and the startled Vexen.

He turns to her and smiles icily at her, patting her gently on the head as if she were some sort of animal that needed some attention.

She glares indifferently at him, feeling the empty oddness inside of her shift slightly as he helps her into the long hooded cloak.

"Well done, child! I knew that-" Vexen gasps in vacant horror, grabbing the sides of Xion's head as he looks fixedly at her changed features.

She blinks as she feels the sudden lightness of her hair and she puts up a hand to touch the stiff spikes.

"The… Keyblade Master? H-How?" Vexen stammers in confusion as Xion looks at her reflection in Vexen's icy green eyes.

The image of a young boy looks back at her with a soft smile and she smiles back at him, wondering just why he looked so familiar.

She couldn't remember just where she had seen that face but it was like she had seen it every single day of her life.

"Don't you dare take this hood off, Xion! Do you understand?" Vexen orders with a shaky voice as he snatches her hood and drapes it over her head.

Suddenly half-blinded by the dark fabric, Xion winces at him and tries to shake it loose but Vexen reinforces the subconscious idea that she shouldn't remove it.

She nods solemnly as he orders her again and again until the lesson was engraved firmly in her mind.


Xion is soon brought into a strange room and she waits patiently as the black cloaked individuals begin to appear in a flash of black haze on the various chair.

They all look a bit bored and more than a few look a bit confused at this sudden summoning; these look pointedly at Xemnas who was smiling icily down at where Xion was hiding behind the thrones.

One in particular looks completely blank and this boy stared into space blankly as if he didn't understand what was going on. The red-haired man who fixes him into place on his throne looks mildly bored as well.

For some reason, Xion couldn't help but gaze at this boy even as Vexen signals her to walk forward with a carefully aimed and unbelievably disdainful smile.

She stares in mild wonder at the white throne-like seats which were arranged in a small circle around the room as Xemnas begins to speak.

"Good tidings, friends. Today is a momentous day. I am pleased to announce that a new comrade has been chosen to wear the cloak." He says in a calm yet proud voice as Xion walks forwards, unabashedly looking up at the startled Organization members with an impassive curiosity.

The blonde boy that had sparked Xion's interest before suddenly stares at her in confusion, blinking his dark blue eyes rapidly as if he had remembered something unexpectedly and was trying desperately to hold onto the vague memory.

"Number XIV. Let us all welcome one of the Keyblade's chosen." Xemnas continues with that same indifferently proud smile as Xion stares fixedly at number XIII, a boy whose name she would only later discover to be Roxas.

She stares up at the strange boy who seemed so much like her and he stares back with that same emotionless curiosity.

All she could hear in the silence of the Round Room was the sound of waves curling away from some distant faraway shore, ever so gentle, in the distance.

And she smiled just as gently at this solemn boy, feeling a strange connection to the boy who would one day become one of her most precious friends in all of the worlds.