Well here it is! My darkest story yet! And I'm serious when I say dark; anyone who knows me will be shocked that this came from my mind! That's why I put it rated T. Where I got it, I don't even know... Happy Friday the 13th!
Just know that even though this is more of a story because of how all the characters are unnamed and stuff, it still technically is a FF because of how many elements I brought in from different things. All I'm telling you is that the boy is technically Roxas and the girl is based on Sakura.
I don't own anything mentioned except the story! I will hunt you down if you take my story!
Warnings: Blood, violence, mentions/hints of rape...
Oh and please please please review! I need to know what you think! Seriously, this is totally different from my usual writing style!
...Really. REVIEW!
Unworthy
He was running away.
His whole body was in pain, but he kept running.
He had to get to where she was.
She would make it all go away. Or at least snuff out the burning as she ran her long fingers through his hair, with his head in her lap. He liked it that way. The thought of rejoining her was the only thing propelling him forwards, that kept him from collapsing and dying right then and there.
The only thing preventing him from going faster was the feeling on unworthiness.
Who was he to think that she would take him back after what he did? After what she had to go through for his sake? Did he even think that she world want to lay eyes on his unworthy face again?
Unworthy.
Yeah, that's what he was. Unworthy of his heritage. Unworthy of even Them.
Unworthy of her love.
But she was all there was left for him. Her gentle smile and kind emerald eyes. With the faintest hope that she might forgive him, there wasn't a reason for him to just stop, and let Them get him.
He had to reach her.
Zigzagging through the brush, he wondered detachedly at how much longer he could go on until his damages drained the life out of him. He ran a quick count of major injuries. Blood continued to seep out of the wound in his spiky golden hair, but he wasn't feeling lightheaded yet. A little dizzy, but not enough that he had to stop. His right arm dangled uselessly at his side, but there wasn't much he could do for the bones. Hopefully, they were only fractured and not broken; it would take so much longer to heal. The other major bother was the arrow in his leg. He didn't think it was very deep; it didn't puncture the skin on both sides. He also was still able to run, so it must've miraculously missed anything vital. But he still didn't know how much of it was inside his leg, nor did he know how to treat it. It hurt so badly. Right above his knee, he winced every time he moved, but he had to keep going. They'll get him if he stopped.
Maybe he deserved it. But he'd do anything to avoid his punishment.
Why should it be a punishment though? In his mind, he wasn't doing anything wrong. If anything, what he was doing was right. Running away, not letting Them get their way. As long as he wasn't back there, doing what they wanted him to do. Or paying for not doing it.
For not killing her.
He gasped, trying to pull in more oxygen into his lungs, willing energy into his body in order to go faster. While he was making a ruckus through the forest, he could still hear his pursuers chasing him, trampling the path he had only seconds before ran himself.
They were getting closer. The monsters.
His clan had been a part of Them for generations. The thirteenth, and the most powerful of all the clans. The clans that ruled the islands since longer than anyone can remember. So much that some people considered Them to be legends. But they were real. And always present.
Everything had been fine for him until his fourteenth birthday. Before then, he never knew how powerful They were. Or how inhuman. They were just a looming presence, one that he never saw as much more than a threat.
How stupid he was. To not see their sinister movements.
Stumbling over a root, he shuddered. The monsters were only seconds away from descending upon him. He knew he couldn't escape them. But, he'd do anything to get away from them. So that they didn't take him back, he just didn't want to go back.
They were powerful. Terrifyingly so. They were able to drain emotions from humans, in order to fuel their own life energy. To become more powerful, they have to drain more energy. These were the "feeding" trips they took off the island. To lands he never saw, in order to feed. Although there were people on the island, they were only to provide labor, and were prohibited to interact with Them.
No matter how much he wished it wasn't so, he knew that he was also one of Them. That was what the ritual on his fourteenth birthday was about: becoming fully one of those creatures, impossibly strong and superior, casting off his human impulses. But he couldn't do it.
He remembered back then, months ago. They formed a large ring around him and his sacrifice, bound to a wooden pole in the clearing. She had been taken from another place outside of the island, and it was his duty to kill her, and feed on the emotions she had. Fear and pain were the strongest emotions he was taught, so the most life energy one could get was when they were sacrificed like this.
Her violet eyes had widened at the sight of him. Honestly, he wasn't sure who was more frightened, he or her. She was helpless, unable to run or escape from her fate. But, despite not being bound like her, he was the same. He was one of Them. This was sealed. He didn't want to, he refused to kill her, a girl with pale blonde hair, that didn't look any older than he. She watched him carefully, and seemed to understand his helpless situation.
"It's okay." She smiled softly, bravely. She was willing to die, if only for him to get out of it free. But he didn't. No matter how hard They pushed him to kill her—they couldn't do it themselves for it was tradition and because she was the one their leader chose, she was the only one he was allowed to kill—but he refused. Even though for centuries They have fed off of prisoners from that village across the sea, he was willing to disrupt their continuity, their pride.
Everything changed from that day on.
The clans grew violent with him, irritated with his decision. Because everyone eligible must feed at the same time, they pressed for him to do the ritual, if only so They could feed themselves. Every night they shoved him into the circle, the girl waiting patiently, peacefully. And every night, they would leave, disappointed that once again he did not want to go through with it. They started beating him. At first, he thought that they would tire of it, and leave him alone, like the bullies often did in the novels he read in his clans' study. But, seeing as he wouldn't break, They only got worse and worse.
Beatings. Beatings and cutting and rape. That's what he was running away from.
They quickly figure out that while they couldn't actually feed off of one another, they could pull their agitation off on him. Because he was one of Them, it wasn't exactly the same; that was like comparing a drink of water to a full-course meal. But it satisfied them to survive. With every yell and scream he let out into the night, they were able to survive another day, feeding off of his misery, his pain.
He tried to shake off the memories, chaining him back to Them, running faster. The arrow was drawing more blood, but he continued on, looking for salvation that would never come.
No one had ever saved him before. And no one will now.
He could never lock himself away from Them. Anywhere he hid, they found him, and every night he would have to face the same choice: Kill the girl or face another day of torture.
The girl pushed for the former. She grew concerned for him, even daring to beg him to kill her, if only to save himself. But he couldn't do it. As long as he didn't kill her, they took care of her well enough to remain healthy, and he was determined to figure out a way to free her.
There were only twelve others; he could survive, he reasoned with her. They wouldn't dare kill him anyways, not unless they want to risk the survival of all of them. But his words were false bravado, he often found himself cried to sleep, if allowed any at all without being gagged by the others, forced to partake in their cruel punishments.
He often saw his blood more times than the sun in a day.
There were only thirteen of Them; one from each clan. But They were also the only ones from each clan. He couldn't remember ever seeing two of Them from the same clan during the same period of time. He could barely even remember his own mother, who disappeared promptly after his fourth birthday. Everything he learned was either the knowledge required, taught by the leader from the first clan, self-taught on how to survive, or from the plenty of books left over from his mother. Everyone always said that his clan was different; that he was special. He soon realized this was only because his clan was often the most humane.
Sometimes, he wonders if he really is one of Them. Needing to drain emotions from a human to truly live, not having any on his own. But then he would remember a time before, when his mother was still with him. And… the other boy. The one that looked just like him, from the spiky blonde hair to the bright blue eyes. The Other was always happy, always doing whatever it took to get him to smile. He on the other hand would just enjoy listening to the Other's laugh; a foreign thing on their side of the island. He would then convince himself that he wasn't one of Them, that he preferred to live with emotions, rather than stealing them from another. But after his mother disappeared, so did the Other. He never knew what happened to the Other, but he knew that They didn't want to hear him talk about him ever again. So he didn't.
The monsters caught up to him. He saw its glowing eyes before the rest of its body, right before it jumped.
Instinctively, he brought his arms up to protect his face. He howled as the thing bit down on his arm, the one already broken. He knew for sure it was broken now. Tears sprung from his eyes as the creature began dragging him back. Back towards the side of the island where They awaited him. From behind him, he could hear the others crashing through the forest, catching up to their leader, ready to pounce on him, destroying his last chance to escape.
The leader of the clans had once explained to him the full extent of their power. He had created these monsters to demonstrate their abilities, only used to create harm. The monsters had scared him. As black as the night that blankets the sky, with orbs of a florescent yellow for eyes, the four-legged creature was terrifying to him, even then, before he ran away the first time. That was also the first time he was enlightened on their abilities to feed on humans.
Because he wasn't fully one of Them yet, being only twelve, he fed and drank the same way any human does. But once he performed the ritual after his fourteenth year, this would no longer satisfy him. He would need to feed on human emotions with the rest of Them, draining humans for life force. The human would then only be an empty shell, unable to feel ever again. There are few cases where these humans regain their emotions, the leader explained, but they were rare and indifferent from anyone else who hadn't been drained, so there was no care for them. "The person would need an outstandingly strong heart to come back." The leader had said, a hungry look haunting his amber eyes.
It was disgraceful for Them to feed on one of their own. There were only thirteen of them anyways; they did not need to kill one another, which was exactly what would happen if they fed too much off of the individual. But They were smarter than that. They knew just how much to take from him, how much pain he deserved, to satisfy all of them without killing him. They allowed his screams and begging to stretch on until his throat is ripped raw, and they still tortured him so, in order to teach him his lesson. He had thought once that the one from the eighth clan would stand up for him, stop them from hurting him like that. But those thoughts died when it was his turn to feed.
They didn't wish him to die because they needed his power from his clan. Each clan passed on a power unique to themselves to their offspring, and altogether this was a power stronger than anything humanity could even imagine. Usually, to produce an offspring, in order to not mix the clans, They would get a human consort, one already dried of emotions, to reproduce. But his clan was different; They tell him that he comes from a clan of fools, who take consorts still aware of their feelings, and aren't disposed of afterwards.
He fought back. Trying in vain to pry the monster's jaws open, so that he could liberate his arm, now drenched in his blood. He thinks that the creature feeds on blood, but doesn't spend too much time thinking about that. His eyes wide with terror, he scans the ground for any kind of weapon. Anything. The growls from the other creatures indicate that they were almost upon him.
Finally, in his pocket, he finds a thin, golden key, the one that opened his shackles during his escape. He took the end and jabbed it as hard as it could into the monster's eye, crying out again when it released him and he tumbled to the ground.
Wasting no more time, he scrambled to his feet to continue on. The monsters seemed to stall, being stupid enough to attack their own leader. It would be a while before they were on his trail again, and hopefully by then he would be long gone. A glance at his bloody arm revealed that the gashes weren't as deep as he thought either, but he knew that all of his injuries would collectively be the end of him. Luck alone wasn't enough to save him.
He was going to need a miracle to make it to her.
But he couldn't die yet. Not without seeing her, one last time.
He had escaped Them once before. Back then, their beating and inflicted pain wasn't nearly the same level as it was now, but it was still horrible. So, on a night they didn't come after him to feed, he ran through these very same trees to the other side of the island. He didn't know what he would've found, but he figured that anything was better than Them. The other side of the forest broke out at the beach, and a tiny village stood there.
The people of this side of the island didn't know what kind of beings they labored for, they only knew it as their way of life; to be able to sustain for the mysterious beings was to be able to sustain for your family. They grew food that They sometimes used to bait their prey, and created things that could be bartered for the real treasures that They enjoyed so much.
Once breaking out of the green foliage of the bushes and trees, he had collapsed on the sand right there and then, exhaustion overtaking him.
He had awoken inside a bright room, the sun shining through an open window. A blanket covered him, and he realized with a start, he was on a bed that wasn't his own.
"Are you alright?"
He flinched from her touch on his cheek, automatically burying himself back into the blanket, awaiting his punishment for running away.
"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you." Gently, but persistently, the fabric was pulled away from him. He cracked open his eyes to see her in front of him, smiling reassuringly.
She had to be no older than he, but somehow acted as gently and lovingly as his mother did a decade ago. Her eyes shone like the emeralds that adorned some of his mother's old jewelry, her sand colored hair only reaching down to her shoulders. And somehow, she almost radiated comfort, and safety.
She was like sunshine to him.
Explaining that she found him on the beach and brought him back to her house, she also reassured him that her parents were working on the fields, and that she was done with her work today. Sitting down beside him, she asked him what had brought him there, where did he come from.
He found himself opening up to this girl, telling her everything. He didn't know what compelled him to do so, but he knew that he had to tell her, and let everything flow out of him until he was empty. In between his words, she would fuss with him, feeding him, nursing his cuts and bruises from past beatings and from his run through the forest. But through it all, she didn't say a word until he was finished.
When he was finished, tears streaked his cheeks. Seeming to expect this, she pulled him to her shoulder, making soothing sounds, rocking him back and forth. Once he calmed down, he awaited her response, bracing for her reaction. For the realization of what he is, what he could do. But all she did was place a tender hand on his forehead, saying, "You seem to be coming down with a fever."
He stared at her in utter amazement, before laughing at her teasing smile, a new feeling of joy running through him. He allowed himself to rest in her care.
For five days she took care of him. His fever dissolved quickly enough, and he soon came to realize that she didn't care about what he was. She liked him for who he was and wanted to help him in any way she could. She sympathized with him, sincerely feeling sorry for him when he explained his past, but her main goal was to cheer him up. She worked hard to get him to smile every day, to be comfortable and rest at ease, to not have to live through that torture again.
Sure, she was a little too optimistic. She always wore her bright smile, hoping he would do the same. She finished all her work as soon as she could, in order to come back home to take care of him. There was no way her parents would've allowed her housing a boy in her room; so he had to hide there for most of the day.
"They so wouldn't approve," she had laughed.
But he liked staying with her. The first night after he recovered, he had nightmares of the clan capturing him, forcing him to endure the pain again. She had woke him hastily, concern etched into her brow. He couldn't stop shivering after that; he didn't need to tell her what his nightmare was about.
Watching him for a moment, she hesitated for a second before swinging his pillow up off of the floor onto her bed. When he asked what she was doing, she replied, "I was thinking that it would be better for you to sleep with me."
That froze him solid. Then his cheeks burned, but not in an entirely painful way. He had asked if she was crazy.
In the glow of the moonlight, she stuck out her bottom lip, asking, "Did you really just notice?"
He had ended up declining in the case that someone not only found him lodged there, but also in the bed of a girl. She had just giggled, hugging him once before wishing him good dreams. He didn't have a single nightmare in rest of his days with her.
She did everything she possibly could to make him happy. And, he found out that he was. As long as he was with her.
But five days after he first saw her smiling face, They came for him.
They had sent their guards after him. From the center of the village, they could hear them barking at the civilians, ordering them to clear out of their houses for a search. He knew immediately that They were after him. She knew it too.
"C'mon," she pulled him out of the rear of the house, where she told him to wait in the bushes. He could see in her face that she was just as scared as he, but for his own sake she was hiding it. "Just stay here. I promise I'll come back."
And with a quick kiss to his cheek, she ran off to join her parents.
Her house was the last to be checked. The guards seemed positive that their victim was hiding in the village, and the girl must've been hiding him. Her parents, not knowing that they'd been doing exactly that, denied it. The girl did too, but the head guard must've seen her fear. From the bushes near the edge of the forest, their prey watched with horrid growing panic as the guard yanked the girl by her short hair to demand where he was.
She cried back she didn't know. He didn't believe her. He slapped her hard to the side of her face.
By now, he didn't know what to do. More than anything, he wanted to go save the girl, and her restrained parents that were receiving the same treatment as her. But his fear ruled over any courage he had.
He was afraid. And his only friend was paying for it.
She was sobbing now, claiming with a rising whine that she didn't know anything about a boy. The guards continued their beatings, trying to clobber their answers out of her or her parents. He saw blood began to run down her face, and realized that the guard had struck her hard enough in her eye to make crimson tears cascade down her cheeks. The other guards had finished their search: no one was found, sir.
Their leader wasn't satisfied; his hunches were never wrong. With one last blow to the girl, he dropped her, sobbing onto the sand. Her parents scrambled to her, not noticing the other guards setting fire to their home, burning everything they owned.
A warning.
A coward he was. To let someone as innocent as her risk everything for him, when he did nothing to deserve it. Unable to watch the flames lick the sky, he ran deeper into the forest, disobeying the girl's orders to stay and wait for her. What was the point? She was probably going to yell at him, demanding him to leave from her presence.
He ran sobbing, tears flooding his eyes at his consequences, loathing himself more than anything for what he did.
They eventually caught up to him, not far from the village. They demanded to know where he was, there was no way that his wounds could all have healed on their own. They had kicked him until he coughed up blood. But no matter what they did to him, no matter how many times he cried out, the image of the girl with blood running down her face always haunted him.
And he would not allow her to get hurt again.
That did nothing to help him, however. His beatings and torture got worse and worse, as They became hungry. There was no salvation for him left, and it was even worse when he thought about the damage he did. He wanted to die, to cause no more harm, but he knew that They would not allow it. They would make sure he never left them again.
So finally, after one long night with the leader, he finally whimpered an agreement.
He would kill the girl.
She looked relieved to see him holding a knife in his hand. She had noticed the difference in his health since leaving, and was concerned that he would endure it all for her. But she blew out a sigh when she finally saw him shuffle towards her, the torchlight glinting off the blade, shining in her violet eyes.
She was ready. But that didn't mean that he was.
When it was time to bring the blade to her neck, he hesitated. Despite the chains binding him to her, he was still trying to get as far away as he could. Could he really go through with it, taking the life of another? She begged him with her eyes. He couldn't bear to look at her. He didn't want to do it, to press the sharp weapon into her soft flesh, absorbing all her emotions as her last scream rang in his ears.
It turned out he didn't have to.
One of the clan members fell with a soft groan. Another was down before the rest had any idea they were under attack. Looking around wildly with the rest, he soon found the attackers.
Both of them were around his age. The one attacking the circle, darting in and out with unseen quickness, was just a mop of brown hair on a lean body. Somehow, he had grabbed the key to his shackles, tossing them to him to unlock his hands from the pole. When the mystery boy turned towards the light, his brown eyes flashed, right before swiping his sword at his next opponent. The other one had swung in on one of the jungle vines, with a comic air of heroicness. His hair was also brown, but was spiked in a seemingly random pattern. His blue eyes danced in merriment at the new challenge he had to face. Landing elegantly on his feet, he paid no attention to him as he began hacking at the girl's bonds with his own sword.
"But… How did you-!"
He grinned at her stunned bewilderment. "Sorry it took so long, but we weren't going to let you die. Once they took you, we built our own raft and sailed our way here. Though I do admit that I'm surprised that you're still alive." He paused to block a blow from one of the now enraged clan members.
"It was because he didn't let me die." Smiling at him, both of them now freed, she added, "Thank you." He felt that he didn't deserve to be the one thanked, but didn't get to voice his opinion as the other boy, the one with the brown eyes, spoke.
"Hey," he delivered a kick to a head, but was still facing the three. Pointing at him, he said, "Doesn't he look like the boy we found on that boat years ago? The one that didn't seem to have any emotions until a year later?"
"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing! He looks exactly like—Watch out!" The blue eyed boy threw himself at another target. Turning back to him, he shouted, "We have things covered here! You need to get out of here now!" before resuming his fight.
The girl nodded. "Go, we're fine here. We'll hold them back so that you can make it safely." She wrapped her now freed arms around him, but he could see that she was distracted by the danger the spiky haired boy faced. He handed her the knife, the one that was meant to end her life. She gripped it tightly, nodding.
"Go."
He turned and ran, not wasting another second of his second chance at freedom. And this time, he wasn't going to fail.
They still tried to stop him, of course. There were three attackers and twelve of Them. And one of him. They had managed to bash his head as he dashed towards the forest. One caught his arm and promptly broke it as if it was a twig, before the brown eyed boy snapped a powerful kick at his neck, disabling him. Another, the only female, was the one that was able to lodge her arrow into his leg. There were more injuries that followed, but he convinced himself they weren't as bad as they felt; they'd be alright to run with.
He was running. Running towards her.
But he was afraid. Afraid of her rejecting him.
He couldn't imagine the damage done to her family, done to her because of her kindness. Because of him.
But, he couldn't leave without seeing her one last time. To do the thing he's wanted to do, ever since he saw the guard march up to her tiny hut of a house. To do what he was most scared of, more than the torture, more than killing the girl.
To apologize.
And that was his motivation to live.
He was escaping his prison, the endless torture and pain, but his angst wouldn't end until he saw her face again. Even if she hated him now…
God, he hoped with all his heart that she didn't hate him.
A few nights before, he had overheard the guards talking about her and her family, how they sought refuge with her uncle. Convenient for him that they bothered to describe to each other where the exact location was. The problem with this was that they only shared the information with one another in case they had to "do away" with her family.
He ran harder and faster, ignoring his now screaming body, knowing every moment he had was precious, and that he had to make it to her before passing out, or worse: get caught by Them.
He wasn't sure if the three he left would be able to fend for themselves, but he had his hopes.
Hopes that they would succeed, and won't become easy prey for Them. Hopes that she would take him back.
After an eternity, he found it. The girl's uncle's house. Exactly where the guards had said, on the crest of the beach. He had considered the possibility if she didn't answer the door, or actually wasn't living there. But he was afraid that the adrenaline pushing his body forwards would fade before he had the chance to say what he had to say, and he'd leave before apologizing.
So he knocked on the door.
Expecting a shout, followed by rains of insults and fury, he had wrenched his bright blue eyes closed. But, feeling neither projectiles nor fists, he dared to peek at the open doorway.
It was her. Her beautiful face had been tainted with fading bruises. Even though she was standing still, he could still see that her right leg was bent more so than the other, damaged weeks ago. And her eye… her right eye was tinted pink, staining her emerald irises. Even now, staring at him steadily, her face was tilted to see better.
She was blind in one eye because of him.
The worst part was her smile. There was no trace of it left in her face, only pure determination. The laughing girl that teasingly offered him to sleep in her bed must've ran away from him, because she was not here. In her place was this ghost, her lips only forming a determined line.
He couldn't take it.
"…I'm sorry…" He whispered, no longer aware of his own pain, just the drowning sorrow of what he did to her. Tainting her life. His eyes widened as the truth of what he saw struck him, wave by wave.
"I'm so sorry…"
Before his tears could escape however, he found her lips over his, a needy kiss. Still shocked to do anything, he just stood there as she pressed her lips deeper into him, conveying how worried she was for him, how much she missed him.
How much they needed each other.
In that one gesture, he knew. He knew that she never hated him, that she had always wanted to help him. He understood how terrified she'd been, not of him, but of losing him.
She loved him. As much as he did her.
He found himself kissing her back, needing more of her, desiring both of them to remain together.
At least to her, his life was worth something after all.
Breaking away, she took in his injuries and grimaced. The severity of some of them surprised even him, and as if on cue, his vision started swimming from his loss of blood. Vaguely, he was aware of her grabbing a duffle bag from inside, before shutting the door. He felt her grab his hand and tug him to the water.
It was nighttime. The stars cast reflective glows on the ripples of the tides, but the moon was obviously dominant in the dark sky. But there was something disrupting the waves, a rounded piece of metal breaking the surface. He could see that whatever it was, it also was partly underwater, most likely bigger than what he could see. Before he could even ask what it was, she was already opening the hatch, tossing the duffle bag in, and swinging her bad leg into it.
Holding out her hand, she smiled softly. She was gentle, knowing this one step would change their lives forever.
"Let's go together."
He took her hand immediately.
Well, that was something, huh? Because technically this story is over (unless someone wants me to do a companion, sequel, or extension of it) you don't really have to read this part. Just remember to review!
The Story and I: Okay, this was really different from my usual style. I'm not such a big fan of third person writing, nor do I usually do so many flashbacks in a story so I think this worked really well. I tried to make it more action-y and less romantic, but that seemed to pop up more than a couple of times. Oh well... Romance and vague descriptions are just me so of course that was bound to come up. But what surprised me was that I was able to not put any dialouge for him until he apologized. Yay! And it only took me three days to finish this! (Thank you spring break!) Coincidence that I finished on Friday the 13th, huh? Then again, "there is no such thing as coincidence, only hitsuzen." But seriously, I'm really satisfied with this.
Inspiration: So what if I thought of it in the shower? Most of my best thinking comes from there! I still have no idea why something from my brain can be so dark though; I'm usually a fun, friendship type writer. Not really much of a writer though... But still. This is really the only thing I've ever written that needed the rating higher than K. At first, it was just an idea of Syaoran running through a forest. But then I needed to know what he was running from, so I was thinking different clans. Why? Then I decided he was one of them; the 13th. By the time I got to 13th, I changed him to Roxas because he would fit so much more. Then more and more of it fell into place... and I got this. But, for some weird reason, I didn't want to name them. Which may have gotten a little confusing. Actually, because I felt like it wasn't much of a FF (even in a Alternate Universe kind of sense) I was debating weather or not to upload it here. But I decided that too many elements came from other things, so why not. Oh yeah...
The following elements belong to their respective owners. I just cut them up and glued them together in my story. Most of it belongs to CLAMP or Square Enix/Disney (Tetsuya Nomura). Spoilers for those who haven't finished any of the stories.
Characters: So most die-hard fans may have recognized where each of these things belong. For those of you who didn't, I'll explain. First off, the characters. As I said before, Roxas is the main character, because the boy and the clans kind of mirrors him and Organization XIII. The girl was inspired from Clone Sakura because of how she was kind and caring for Syaoran, but totally kicked mutant butt in Tokyo. I had wanted Xion to be the female lead, but Sakura fit a lot better. The sacrifice for the clans was Naminé, only with violet eyes because I felt like I didn't want too many blue-eyed characters. I put her in because of her role with the Organization. The two brunettes were the two protagonists of Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle and Kingdom Hearts, Syaoran and Sora. I had planned for Sora to save Naminé since the beginning, (because of CoM), but Syaoran I had to put in, just because I felt like I robbed him of his story and Sora needed someone to help him. The boy that looked like Roxas (The Other) was Ventus. I wanted to put Ven in as a plot device to explain how all the clan members are only childs, how they had to be. Ven was Roxas's twin because of how they looked exactly alike. The clan was the Organization, and the monsters were representing Heartless.
Elements: The first thing was the whole "13th of the clans thing." That could be traced back to either Organization XIII (KH) OR Tokyo Babylon by CLAMP, by how Subaru was the 13th head of his clan. Roxas's injuries were also part homages: Shot with an arrow through his leg (TRC) and a broken arm (TB). I put them on an island, like Destiny Islands (KH). He was one of them and running away (KH) to a girl, who was basically Sakura. I think the pairing of Roxas and Sakura came from a picture I found a while ago of the two of them on DeviantArt. It all started on his fourteenth birthday (TRC) and the powers of the clans were based after the Nobodies (KH), vampires, and Dementors from Harry Potter. The idea of their powers only for evil was just because. At first, I wanted to say that the clans had to kill their preceedors (like in Tokyo Babylon for the Sakurazukamori) but I didn't want Roxas to kill his mother. So I think it was kind of like seppuku (ritual suicide) only with the clans in charge of it. The whole idea of a human consort I think I got from Blue Bloods, or that line in Gate 7 where Sakura said he couldn't sleep without a human companion. Sakura was basically Sakura in personality, and while she wasn't actually blinded in Tokyo, she still got bashed in the eye and couldn't use her leg. The idea of protecting each other was mostly from TRC. The whole pointless part where Roxas stabs the monster in the eye sith a key was basically a parody of the Keyblade. The end where she hold out her hand was from the first Kingdom Hearts, but I didn't know it until now. Another thing I might've borrowed from was Anthem by Ayn Rand by how they weren't really named in this story, but that was only because I didn't want them to be named. Ven was the only one who didn't have a name in the story, because he wasn't the successor, despite being Roxas's twin, and he was to rid of anyways. Oh yeah; twins with only one of them having significant power would also be from Tokyo Babylon because of Subaru and Hokuto.
Well I'm tired. This is one of my most thought-provoking stories so I hope you enjoy. If anyone wants to know the loose ends not tied up yet, I can spoil them the rest of the story. Again, please review! Sorry for this part being so long; I know that I'm not allowed to put up any chapters for Author's notes so...
Happy Friday the 13th! And first day of Cambodian New Year's Eve!