How does one go about describing what it feels like to not exist? Or even what it feels like to exist for that matter?
If you can even call it that; though, I guess if you wanted to, you could argue that nothing actually exists. Whatever that means.
But brains-in-vats, and holographic universe theories aside, how can you explain to someone what it feels like to be aware of ceasing to exist?
Especially when your "existence" or semblance thereof, as it were, is actually a fabricated life, artificially created out of someone else's, by others who, depending on how you look at it, weren't fully existing either.
Okay, so, whatever Xion is...was…(is?), she could never have been "real". For all intents and purposes, she had never existed. And she knows this. She really does.
But they were real.
Her friends had been real.
Far more real than those that had created her.
No matter what anyone said, those two had it. There was no doubt about it. Whatever it was that made the others into hollow shells with only half an existence, hearts or whatever, they just had to have had it, nothing else could explain them.
Their laughs were real. Their tears (whether they realized she had seen or not) were real too. So was their anger, whether directed at each other, her, or something else entirely. Their love of sea-salt ice cream was definitely real.
Their kindness toward her was real too.
Their worry for her was real.
Their want to protect her had also been real.
Their...love...for her. Their declarations of best friendship had absolutely been real.
Her love for them in return was...is definitely real too. If for no other reason than because they themselves were real.
Xion's friendships with both Roxas and Axel had been the most real things in the universe.
But that had all stopped being real the moment she and all associated memories anyone had of her started fading away. No question about it. She had seen the start of it herself, mere moments before she had lost consciousness.
To be fair, she had known it was coming. She had been warned, and had thought she was going to be okay with it (more accurately, she had assumed she just wouldn't be here to NOT be okay with it).
But it is funny how something that isn't real can still hurt you, even though you yourself aren't real.
Hmm.
Those other three had been real too.
The phantom boy (as weird as that sounds), Riku. Despite being an imposter, and so often only appearing to her in what Xion could only assume were her own confused dreams; he is definitely real.
So too is that girl from her..I mean, his memories. The one who looks so much like her. You could say she is even the real version of Xion.
And ultimately, he is real. The reason for everything in Xion's life, whether she'd liked it or not. The boy she'd never met, yet owes everything to.
Sora is real. Sora is so real, in fact, that if you think about it, he exists multiple times over. He exists as himself, the "other her"'s best friend, and the boy who Riku was so determinedly fighting for.
He also exists in Roxas, even if Roxas couldn't accept it yet, stubborn as he is.
And, in a way, he existed in Xion.
That has to count for something, right?
I mean, even if the existence she'd had was borrowed from a boy with existence to spare, she'd had something real inside her. His memories were definitely real.
Maybe, between Sora's overarching realness, and the realness of the friendships she'd had with Roxas and Axel, there had been enough to earn her an honorary membership in the "real people" club.
Maybe that is the reasoning behind her appearance on this beach. The one she knew from both her memories and Sora's.
Not that she's complaining.
But Xion can't say she was expecting this either. People who don't exist don't get any continuations. Even in people's memories. Hence the reality of her friendships now being in question.
Yet here she is. Herself. Black hair, black cloak, and all. She even has a shell in her pocket, now that she gives herself a moment to notice. It's the same one she'd had with her the day she stopped whatever kind of existing she had been experiencing. Its coloring fades from purple to yellow, kinda like the colors on the edges of the achingly familiar sunset. Actually, she had collected the shell from this very beach during one of her missions, come to think of it.
Maybe the honorary existence is why there is now a boy standing in front of her. At first she had nearly tried to tackle him in a hug. His face in particular causing her elation and grief in equal parts, seeing as it was the last face she had ever laid eyes on. The same face whose associated name was the first name to cross her lips, even before she had bothered to memorize her own.
But the boy before her isn't Roxas. He CAN'T be Roxas. First of all, he isn't wearing the only article of clothing Xion had ever seen Roxas wear. His smile is also not Roxas's. Actually, it kinda looks just like Sora's, weirdly enough.
And he isn't surprised to see her. Whether or not Roxas would remember her, Xion had known him well enough to know he would have reacted in surprise and alarm at her sudden appearance in front of him.
Instead of being surprised to see her, this not-Roxas has greeted her as if expecting her. Not with a hello or any greeting of the sort, but with a question.
"What are you so afraid of?" He asks again. Unperturbed by her silence thus far. Not so much as even the slightest hint of annoyance dimming his apparent curiosity regarding her answer.
Even if Xion could come up with the right words, it's not like this, not-Roxas boy could understand.
You can't explain to a fish what it feels like to not be wet.
Or tell anyone what an absence of air tastes like.
Xion hadn't even realized there was anything she could fear at this juncture, that is until she heard the boy's question and immediately knew the answer.
"Not existing." is her lame excuse for an answer. Technically it isn't even accurate. She has never actually feared not existing. That was supposedly her natural state, after all.
But still, the answer seems to fit none the less. Not-Roxas seems to be satisfied with it, anyway, as he gives her another Sora-smile before fading away, leaving her alone on the beach.
I guess that if Xion were to bother thinking about it, she would realize that the answer fits simply because she learned what it meant to exist. Whether you consider her existence a second-hand experience gleaned from the existence of others, or her own; she has learned what it feels like.
It is only once you have something that matters; something that can be threatened, that you can fear its absence.
By the time Xion starts paying attention to her surroundings again, she finds she has wandered off to that little island with the sideways tree. Time doesn't seem to work like she remembered it working. Neither does space, so she can't be sure if she had actually walked herself over here or not. Let alone how long she had been sitting here. But that is okay, because she has finally figured out why she is here.
At first she had been concerned that maybe something had gone wrong. That she had failed in returning to Sora. But once not-Roxas had vanished, she had figured it out.
It had actually been not-Roxas...Ventus. His name is Ventus… that had given her the information she needed to figure it out. He had vanished without saying anything once she had answered his question.
Since then, she hasn't seen or spoken to anyone else. Yet she doesn't feel the slightest bit alone. On the contrary, she feels rather like she's surrounded by old friends. Not Axel and Roxas, though in a weird way, she can almost feel Roxas here too, or at least if not Roxas himself, then the recognition he belongs here. Most of all, she feels Sora's presence everywhere. It's calming, in a way. Even if it isn't the same as being with her friends, she somehow feels less alone than she has ever felt. More assured that everything will work out for those real people she loves so much. Sora included.
For the first time, Xion acknowledges, as a never before found concept seeps into every fiber of her being, pulling a smile to her lips... for the first time, she has something that is unequivocally hers.
She has a home.