A/N:
Namine-centric. Oneshot. Not much else to say. Apologies, it's very short. -dies-
I might just update this with other Namine-oriented oneshot fics. So, it may make itself out to be a collection. Or just this. Whatever. XD
Disclaimer: I does not own to the Kingdom Hearts yes. -dies again- Translation: I don't own Kingdom Hearts. Sob.
There's no color in the castle purported Oblivion.
There's faceless beings walking the halls, dressed in shade of black one only finds when they look Death in the eyes. They drone their useless words while you, the songless, defective bird, sit in your cage.
You listen to them speak, mutter, whimper, taunt. You listen to them murder, betray, terrorize, berate. You listen to them suffocate.
And they plead. Oh, how they plead.
They plead behind their little masks of emotion. They flaunt in turmoil, they derrive from misfortune. But oh, their pleading doesn't seem to ever cease. They stumble over words going against their own emotions. They beg for the time to come where their defeat is solved, given a purpose.
Ended.
But no, little birdy, trapped in her cage, make no mistake: You are not welcome to speak your thoughts on the terror they thrive in. Let them weep, let them cry. But do not touch. Let them fall, let them die. Do not touch.
Befriend none. Help none. Trust none. Fall not, little birdy, from your perch; for once you do, the masquerade will end. You wings will snap back into place. You will not fly, you will not sing. You will merely live in the same horror they do. Do not be one of them, sweet bird. It's an uncanny fate that is also most cheerless. It's a sad ending to your once happy song.
Though, in what way is your song...happy?
Is it, in fact, you are more like the dramatists than you believed? Is this, perhaps, your breaking point: The time in which your musing comes to an endpoint, where you fall into the pit of the despair so many have fallen into before you?
.
A pencil is placed onto paper.
An unfinished portrait of the chocolate-haired boy asleep beckons you back.
Footsteps, footsteps, footsteps.
Some wrongs are to be right once again.
.
Such smart conclusions from such a tiny little bird.