Part I

As he stands there in the doorway, the bundle of flowers Roxas had been carrying tumbles from his hands. They had been a present for her, a gift 'just because', a way to show his love for her. And as he stands there, they fall from his hands just as the pair on the bed embrace.

They didn't even notice him there.

He just stands there, the tears trickling down his now pale face. His breath catches in his chest, and he still makes no noise. Slowly, his dark blue eyes close and he retreats into himself, somehow traveling back into his mind and sitting down in there.

He watches the pair kiss, the way that the boy with the silver hair so different from his own blond spikes held the girl he loved with every fiber of his being and whispered soft words into her ear. He watches as his now former friend touches his girlfriend with the kind of touch she had never received from his own hand.

He watches all this in a detached sort of way, like it was happening on a television screen to a pair of characters in a show he had never seen before and had come into the middle of an episode of. There in that little seat in the back of his mind, he watches Naminé and Riku kiss again and he marks how the passion in the boy's touch mirrored his own whenever he held that poor, defenseless little girl in his arms.

Well, not so defenseless he guesses.

Roxas drops his gaze to the bundle of flowers by his feet, watching the way that the shadows from the partially closed door spread across their petals. Beautiful roses, they catch the light from the candlelit room on their dew-laced folds and crevasses. They look like they're covered in diamonds, in fact, or some other lovely and rare gem. In his blank state of observation, he notices every fold in the petals, every miniscule line, every last dash of black that marred their beautiful and turned them ugly and gray.

He cries there in the hallway of her apartment, silently listening to the words being exchanged. With every word that came out of Riku's lips, his heart shatters again and again. His girlfriend does not respond. Naminé doesn't say a word and because of this, Roxas sits down. He slides on the wall, feeling the coldness of the plaster on his back until his rear was firmly on the floor.

He rocks himself, feeling a strange sense of loss. No, not strange. He lifts his head as he hears Riku's voice again. In his mind, he sits in a cold little white room. He sits on a white chair and in his hand, there is a different object than the flowers now discarded on the floor.

In reality, even as the mental Roxas begins to scream in sheer rage and pain, the real Roxas only reaches into his pocket. The once warm fleece of his white checkered jacket, a gift from Naminé on a Christmas long ago where he had finally gathered the courage to kiss her beneath the mistletoe and to whisper the words he had kept trapped in his heart for so long in the fear that he would lose her friendship, feels scratchy and cold to his hand. He slowly pulls out the small box and opens it, looking into it as the ring inside catches the light just as beautifully as the white roses did on the floor.

He closes the box as soon as he sees that the trio of Orichalcum+ are safe within their velvet box. The white gold hurts him, now he can't look at it. He remembers every ounce of hard work he had put into getting this ring, the number of lunches he had lost in order to pay another payment, the way he had gotten through a series of crappy odd jobs in order to see that girl's face as he knelt down on one knee. The sacrifice didn't matter to him then. It was worth it, it was worth it for her. The boy within his mind sits down to sob just as his real self stands up.

Roxas leaves the box behind... along with the roses he had carefully propped up against the door so they'd be noticed when one of them got out of the room. The card he had written remains tucked lovingly between a pair of intertwined flowers and a bright green vine with tinier wisps of some white flower he had no idea even existed.

'I'll be thinking of you wherever you go, and wherever you end up going.

I'll pray for your sorrows to end, and for them to never begin.

I'll hope for your heart, knowing that mine is already yours.

I will step forward to grant your wishes, and to grant my own;

Who knows? My journey, and in turn your own, may not be so hard.

It might already have begun, or may never begin.

All I know is that as long as there is the same sky,

We will never be apart.

-Roxas'


Part II

As he stood there in the doorway, the bundle of flowers Roxas had been carrying tumbles from his hands. They had been a present for her, a gift 'just because', a way to show his love for her, a way to show her he was sorry. And as he stands there, they fall from his hands just as the pair by the bed hug each other and begin to cry.

They didn't even notice him there.

He just stands there, the tears trickling down his now pale face. His breath catches in his chest, and he still makes no noise. Slowly, his dark blue eyes close and he retreats into himself, somehow traveling back into his mind and sitting down in there. She...

He watches the pair cling to each other, the way that the boy with the messy brown hair so different from his own blond spikes held the girl he loved with every fiber of his being and whispered soft words into her ear. He watches as Sora cradles the screaming Kairi, his own tears falling even as the princess begs for her friend to come back.

The small lump in the bedsheets does not respond to these words, not even when Kairi rips free from Sora's embrace and starts shaking the figure violently. He lets her, his gloved hands dropping to his sides as he stares at the spectacle without saying a word.

Roxas watches all this in a detached sort of way, like it was happening on a television screen to a series of characters in a show he had never seen before and had come into the middle of an episode of. There in that little seat in the back of his mind, he watches Kairi slap Naminé with a backhand that would have done any self-defense teacher proud and scream into her ear in an attempt to wake her up. He marks the way the girl's voice cracks and how she drops to her knees to scream into the body's empty embrace, how she holds that poor, defenseless little girl in his arms.

She didn't need to be strong anymore.

Roxas drops his gaze to the bundle of flowers by his feet, watching the way that the light from the fully opened door spread across their petals. They were lilies, her favorite flowers, and they catch the light from the candlelit room on their dew-laced folds and crevasses. They look like they're covered in diamonds, in fact, or some other lovely and rare gem. In his blank state of observation, he notices every fold in the petals, every miniscule line, every last dash of light that enhanced their inner folds and made them glow.

He cries there in the hallway of her apartment, silently listening to the words being exchanged. The doctor says a few words of technical jargon, explaining that Naminé' mind wasn't able to cope with her ordeal. Having been attacked by someone she thought was a friend was too much for her already fragile psyche, the doctor says in as many words he could possibly fit into one sentence. He sees Sora nod slowly, as if the idiot actually understood what he was saying.

Kairi says a few words to the doctor, each one sounding like complete gibberish until she says 'funeral.'

Roxas pays close attention, his mind grasping at every word the girl exchanges with the two men. With every word that came out of Kairi's lips, his heart shatters again and again. It couldn't be real. It just couldn't. His girlfriend does not respond, even as they talk about her in the most empty and cold of words. Funeral. Death. Cremation. Service. Naminé doesn't say a word and because of this, Roxas sits down. He slides on the wall, feeling the slickness of the brightly patterned wallpaper on his back until his rear was firmly on the floor.

He rocks himself, feeling a strange sense of loss. No, not strange. He lifts his head as he hears Kairi's voice again. Funeral. She's gone. In his mind, he sits in a cold little white room. He sits on a white chair and in his hand, there is a different object than the flowers now discarded on the floor. He holds a little yellow pencil, and he is drawing on the floor and he is drawing an image that was dear to his heart, and he would never stop drawing it until he saw her again.

He had been through this mess before. And he hadn't said he was sorry. He hadn't visited her, he hadn't said anything, believing a lie instead of the girl he loved. Naminé. He didn't believe her, only Riku's sick lies. He didn't believe it until he saw the police report and the order from the police to have Riku locked up. Until he saw the papers admitting Naminé to the hospital.

In reality, even as the mental Roxas begins to scream in sheer rage and pain, the real Roxas only reaches into his pocket. The once cold leather of his Organization cloak, a gift from the gang he had joined on a cold night where he had wanted the chance to destroy as much of the world as he could possibly get his hands onto, feels suffocating and boiling hot to his hand. He pulls out the small book and flips the pages until he reaches the page he had wanted to see.

He closes the sketchbook as soon as he sees that picture. He looks at the way that the two badly scribbled figures held their hands. In the picture, the little figure that was obviously him, looks up into the sunset with his head held high. In reality, he hadn't held his head up like that since the night he saw the attack... and had completely misunderstood it. The girl in white holds his hand tightly in the picture, holding it as if she would never let it go. On her left hand, there is a small... but noticeable white ring. He remembers that ring. He remembers everything he put into it, and the way he had kissed it when he ran down the streets to her apartment to give it to her. It had been worth it, it had been worth it for her. Only for her. The boy within his mind sits down to stare numbly into the distance, refusing to believe what he sees with his own eyes just as his real self stands up.

Roxas enters the room, ignoring the startled cries from both Sora and Kairi, the way that Kairi latches onto him and begs him not to look. He looks at the body in the bed, the way that the bed-sheet was wrapped around her throat and the way that the empty bottle of medication was in Naminé's hand. Unable to associate the purple figure with the girl he loves, Roxas instead turns to the bedside table with the vague idea of dropping his flowers onto it.

That's where he sees them. A bundle of withered flowers. The white roses... The white roses he had carefully propped up against the door so they'd be noticed, the ones he had left behind to leave her a message that had never been true. The card he had written remains tucked lovingly between the pair of intertwined flowers. They are now crumbling and rotting, their yellowish petals scattered all over the table. The card is folded, and had been unfolded so many times that it is nearly torn in half.

And there is a note besides these flowers, underneath an empty jewelry box.

'I'll think of you wherever I end up, and wherever you are,

I pray for your sorrow to end, and that you will not mourn because my heart is forever within yours.

I have waited a long time to realize this wish, and I know that I have betrayed you.

What happened hurt, but who knows? It may have hurt because I hurt you. Maybe this journey won't be so hard, and with this, you'll be set free from the monster that shattered you. Live long, and be happy for me. I can't leave you behind with these memories of me. Remember the happiness, and do not let them become chains of memories for you.

This new journey has begun for me, do not let it begin for you.

There are many worlds left in this universe, but remember this...

There is one sky, and as always, one destiny. Mine is with you.

I'm sorry, I have to go now. I love you.

Naminé'