Disclaimer: do you honestly think i own the characters from a video game? no. i don't. so disclaimers are pointless. besides, who's going to sue a fifteen year old girl for writing some short crap on a fanfiction site?
A Mirror-Image
The sun had long since set, taking its shades of peach and pink along with it beneath the horizon. The fluffy clouds that had been in the sky earlier, painted pale purple by an anonymous artist, had dissolved into mere silver wisps. The stars shone brightly through the dull charcoal sky, a radiant crescent moon hidden behind the said remnants of the bouncy clouds. There was no breeze, so the palm trees stood as still as though they were nothing but cardboard cut-outs, towering over the golden sand that had lost its glisten to the departed sun. The ocean was calm, with the waves asleep so long as the wind was too, and the steady lapping at the shore was a soothing sound to the ears of those that had yet to go to bed. The island and its townspeople were in a state of blissful slumber, save for a boy who had more pressing issues to attend to than rest.
He stared across the room, his deep blue gaze greeted by one of exact likeness. As he sat on the couch, his elbows propped up on his knees and his chin resting in his cupped hands, the brunette watched another mimic his every move. The boy who sat on the identical couch opposite him had the same depressed expression, the same slouched posture, and the same deep blue eyes. Sora refused to look away from him, captivated by the other's sheer presence. That boy was not supposed to be here, he wasn't supposed to be at all. He didn't understand why he could see the blonde opposite him, why he was there. However, understanding and reason had no part to play in anything anymore; he didn't care. Sora didn't care if he wasn't supposed to see Roxas, because he had never had the chance to get a good look at him before. He felt that he had an obligation to at least know what Roxas looked like.
Sora tried to observe the blonde boy's behaviour, but the other did nothing except imitate him with perfect timing. The nagging voice in his head continually told him that that boy should not be here, and his best efforts to drown it out were defeated with ease, leaving his conscious to fret over Roxas' company. The telephone on the small table beside the couch was in reach, and yet Sora made no attempt to call for his friends' help. Roxas wasn't here to cause trouble, or else he would have done it already. No, the blonde teenager was here for reasons beyond Sora's understanding, though as aforementioned, understanding was unimportant to the fifteen-year-old brunette. Sora didn't feel the least bit threatened by Roxas' presence, even though the blonde wasn't someone that he'd met often, technically speaking.
"Did you want something?" Sora mumbled, his words echoed by Roxas' non-existent voice as he mouthed the question. The brunette sat up straight, his hands falling into his lap. He was unsurprised that the boy opposite him had done the same in unison, but a sudden sense of solitude fell into the pit of his stomach. Sora's eyebrows creased, and so did Roxas'; a small frown appeared on their lips. Understanding was beginning to awaken, and Sora was beginning to grant it significance. The brunette let his shoulders slouch and his head to drop slightly, paying no attention to the way Roxas' did the same. A heavy sigh rushed past his barely parted lips, eyelids slipping over his blue eyes like a curtain over a stage.
He could hear the slow motion of the ocean as the salt water slid across the shore, before being dragged back lazily. The sound of cats prowling through the bushes was faint but audible nonetheless, and sleeping dogs snored like jackhammers in the distance. Sora could hear his neighbour leaving home to go to her night shift at the hospital, her husband saying his tired goodbyes. Opening his eyes, he could see their shadows on the driveway through the narrow window beside his front door, on the other side of the room. He listened to Aerith get in her car and start it up, which was as quiet as slippers on carpet, and then to Cloud as he closed the front door after his spouse had driven away. However, regardless of the way he redirected his attention elsewhere, his thoughts never strayed from the blonde that was, too, pretending to be interested in the neighbours.
Sora looked back to Roxas, who stared straight back. With little hesitancy, but hesitancy all the same, the brunette pushed himself onto his feet. He walked half the distance between the blonde's couch and his, as Roxas had covered the other half simultaneously, until they met in the middle. He knew now why he was here. Sora half wished him to be here, and, with the other half, Roxas did too. That's what brought him. Because wishes can come true, and two halves of the exact same thing make a whole. Roxas was his other half, and completed the other half of the wish. They were two totally different people, and yet they weren't. Sora lifted his hand, Roxas doing the same in synchronization. They pressed their hands together, and Sora felt the smooth, cool surface of the mirror against his skin.