Author's Note: It was sooo much easier righting Nami's part. Dx Sigh, I have so much trouble writing in Roxi's point of view. I just can't do it. I'm sorry for my epic fail. Dx -hangs herself- And friggen FFdotNET was being a total bz and not letting me post this! I was super duper ultra mega spectacular insanely pissed. I've been trying for the past two days. D
Disclaimer: Intensely tired. Can't come up with anything clever. Not mine. Sigh.
His life was blinding. Everywhere he turned, something would explode in his face. Whizzing around him in sparks and cracks, narrowly missing. He jumped and dodged to save himself, but no one is unbreakable. It was tiring, and too much to deal with at the same time. His life was full of eruptions of color melted together, blurring his eyes as he tried to endure everything. Eventually all he saw was distorted in a cluster of various hues, flashing in unorganized patterns and destroying the meager amount of peace he managed to obtain.
This was a reason why he fought so hard. It infuriated him to no end being unable to control the sudden, dangerous bursts that threatened his life. Despite the fact that he was repeatedly told he had no existence he defiantly fought for it. With his keyblades, he was finally given some kind of power to adjust his fate the way he wanted. Ruthlessly he slaughtered his enemies, satisfied with the ability to sway situations to his advantage.
But satisfaction was all he gained from the strength to eliminate his foes. No matter what he did, his life remained simply 'content'. The determined resilience he possessed was still not enough to gain what he truly desired: a rest, no matter how temporary, from the continuous surges of color that ceaselessly struck him. His was the life of a soldier; he would never gain the tranquility he craved. Despite how often he was told this, he persistently worked for the serenity so far from his reach. He abandoned his belligerent ways, hoping that by giving up his small supply of satisfaction he received something greater. Even so, he could not achieve it. Although he repeatedly made sacrifices in his life, the lust for peace in his heart only grew.
And then he met her.
At first, he couldn't understand what he was feeling. An unrecognizable relief settled over him, and he was confused beyond belief. The indiscriminate disruptions of color bounced off of him as opposed to crashing into him. It was as if she had surrounded him in a cool, clean shield of pure white, allowing him to see the world from behind it. For the first time in his life, he was able to walk around freely and see what he had missed before. Instead of the quick leaps and bounds he was usually forced to perform, he could amble aimlessly about and take in the beauty of the colors that had before so viciously attacked him.
Regardless of what he was told, he felt like she had to exist. Although she constantly reminded him that neither one of them existed he couldn't believe her. If neither of them truly existed, he didn't understand how he felt so warm and happy and whole when he was around her. She made his life, though she firmly believed it didn't exist, overflowing with the peace he had searched so long for. Just being near her was enough to deflect the fierce assault of the colors. He was amazed that his wish for a reprieve was granted and prayed to any and all deities that it would last forever.
He felt anxious about asking more than the momentary placidity he had labored for so much of his life, but couldn't stop his indulgent heart. She had become so much more than just a source of complete solace. It had happened in the blink of an eye; she had stolen his heart without hesitation or warning. It had been such a natural process he hadn't been able to notice. Suddenly she had become his everything; he was surrounded by the long-awaited comfort of simply her existence, no matter how many times she said it would fade someday. Asking how it had happened would be like asking him what water tasted like; at one point their hearts, their lives, their 'nonexistences' had merged into one. He felt like he was in a never-ending state of euphoria and continued his prayers to keep it this way.
It would be a lie to say he hadn't seen her death coming.
Of course she would die one day (he refused to say fade), but it was so soon, too soon. He had always known fate to be cruel, having lived in what seemed an interminable struggle for the majority of his life. But this confirmed his conjectures.
He cradled her to him gently, his mouth babbling words he no longer understood, imploring desperately to every divine being ever spoken of to keep her with him. Her smile said what she no longer could as she attempted to soothe him even as she was clearly passing on. He latched onto her hand like a lifeline, but she made no indication that she had noticed. He no longer formed words; mournful sobs now fell from his lips. His tears rolled down his cheeks, falling gently onto her face. Her lips trembled as she used what it seemed the last of her energy to mouth one last 'I love you'. His sobs intensified with a renewed vigor as her eyes, her beautiful eyes, began to cloud over. He had been through enough battles to know what it looked like when death beckoned you.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the brilliant rainbow of color whirling closer and closer to him and saw it corresponded with the rapid decline of her life. He took in shaky breaths, holding her now limp body closer to him to shield her for once as the colors took their chance and surrounded them both. Except this time, the previously hated streams of light and color caressed them gently, wrapping them in a warm glow. He squeezed his eyes shut, hugging her to him desolately. His wish had been granted; he had received the peace he had once so hopelessly strove for. In return he had lost what he now realized, as the colors swirled indifferently around him, what he valued above all else.