Disclaimer: Forgetfully not mine.
A/N: Written for Challenge #255 on the KH Drabble Community on LiveJournal.
Tabula Rasa
© Scribbler, March 2011.
Liquid sluiced off him. The sensation wasn't unpleasant. He didn't have a word for what it was, but when 'unpleasant' popped into his mind he rejected it. The cool air that touched his skin was a contrast. He wondered if that was unpleasant. Was unpleasant something you thought, or felt?
Movement was easier in air than in liquid. He reached with… the word came after a few seconds of staring. A hand. His hand. His fingers. One, two, three, four, five fingers. Or four fingers and a thumb. Who had said that? He couldn't remember. Or maybe he didn't know. Thoughts, feelings and half-lidded memories sluiced from his mind as easily as liquid from his body. He tried grabbing both. He failed.
Failure. Failed at… something. Failed to do. Failed to be. Failed to see. Failed to understand. Failed to SCREAMSCREAM!
His mouth moved. Mouth. M-O-U-T-H. Maker of sounds. Big-mouth. Loud-mouth. Motor-mouth. Word-of-mouth. Straight from the horse's mouth. Don't look a gift-horse in the mouth. Keep your mouth shut. Leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Out of the mouths of babes –
Why are you screaming?
Words. Question. Questions needed answers. He was almost certain of that. How? He knew nothing. He was nothing. Who was he? Was he even a he? He, she, it, thing, creature, creation, project, subject –
Shhh, it's all right.
Not all right. Water and air. Air and water. Skin so cold. Definitely unpleasant. And those eyes, staring. Calculating eyes. Cold eyes. Cold as ice. Cold as granite. Cold as empty chests. He had seen them before, through water, through glass –
G-L-A-S-S. Hard barrier. Heated sand. Sand like on a beach. Beaches were nice. He liked beaches. He didn't like glass. Kept behind glass. Grown like… like… what was a test tube? What was a baby? Was that what he was? So hard to think. Why didn't he know anything? Images slipped and slithered away, like grabbing handfuls of sand. Sand. Glass. Hard barrier. Sand like on a beach. He went in circles without knowing what a circle even was.
You're confused. It's all right.
Soft. Soothing. Who was that? Words without sound. His mouth only made sounds without words. He tried again. Failure. The staring man made his own mouth-noises. They weren't nice.
Back into the water. Back into darkness. Had he returned from it last time? Must have, otherwise how would his mind contain anything at all? These things he thoughtsawfeltremembered may be confusing, but they were his.
Weren't they?
Sudden panic. Thrashing. He didn't want darkness, he wanted light. He needed to find the light. Save it. Certainty. The light was important. The light was… a person?
Huh?
Fear rushed over everything like an incoming tide. He didn't want to go back into the .
What?
Don'tputmebackdon'tputmebackdon'tputmebackdon'tputmeback –
More words without a voice, plus a picture. Crayons. Paper. Wisps of blonde in his peripheral vision. No, someone else's. He was looking through someone else's eyes, feeling comfort from someone else. Someone was touching his mind. He should have felt invaded; instead relief flooded him. He wasn't alone.
The soundless voice spoke with a certainty he lacked. Vexen says he'll reawaken you when you're ready.
When would that be?
Soon, he says.
Would she be there?
Yes.
Good. The first thing he was sure of. That was a good thing. He knew the voice was female and that he wanted to see her. He wanted to seesmellheartouchfeelhold her for real. She was important. She was… was…
He swooped into darkness like wiping chalk scrawl off a blackboard. Reset. Reboot. Better luck next time.
Goodbye, Riku.
Fin.
.
