Hi, Kingdom Hearts fandom. First fic that I'm posting, but not that first that I've ever written. AU and slightly creepy, although not as creepy as I was going for. So, hello everyone. I'm here to stay. :)
This oneshot was inspired by this video: h t t p : / / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v = f e 3 N G z C _ 3 2 Y & f e a t u r e = c h a n n e l _ p a g e (Without the spaces.) Go watch. Shower with love. The usual. =D
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of the characters, and I never will.
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"Say hi to the baby,"
A lot of light. Bright white light and it's hard to see anything beyond that. Lifting his head is too much effort, and he doesn't have enough coordination to achieve that anyways.
A block of darker color shuts out the blinding light, and he stares up at the giant face which is smiling slightly. "Hi baby," it whispers, and he feels its breath across his cheeks ever so lightly. He blinks slowly, and the face frowns, its silver hair falling in front of its aquamarine eyes.
"He didn't say anything," the face says to someone.
"He's just a baby," another voice replies, tinged with humor.
The face moves away and again there's bright light, a lot of it, and a strong warmth that wraps around him as he feels himself drifting off into sleep.
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He vaguely remembers the little boy named Riku, if he lets his mind wander where it wants. He can see the smiling face with mischievous twinkle in the brilliantly bright eyes, and the silver hair that he always used to follow wherever it went.
Riku used to play with him, he knows. They used to run around barefoot on the sand and explore the different parts of their beach, and Riku would tell him stories about the lands far away, farther than even the sunset, and he would say, "I'm going to go there someday."
There isn't really anything else. He woke up one day and went downstairs, and he heard his parents talking really quietly, like they do when they are trying to make sure that he doesn't find out where his birthday presents are being hidden.
Sometimes he wonders where he went—he wonders what happened to that little boy named Riku who could always find a way up the cliff, even if no one else could. He thinks about the way that he was there every day, always, and then all of a sudden…
He wasn't.
But something always seems to interrupt him, and he never gets past—
"Sora!" cries a voice, and one that he knows well.
The young boy looks over from where he is lying on the tree to the redhead who is running up to him and waving her hand, her smile taking up her entire face. Kairi always seems to be smiling no matter what. Sora likes that about her.
The boy jumps off the tree and waits for his friend to catch up. "Hey, Kairi," he chirrups, watching her bend over, panting, to catch her breath.
"What were you thinking about?" she asks him.
Sora stares at her. "I was just…" And then it slides, like water, back into the melee of thoughts where it came from. "… Nothing, really."
"What do you want to do today?"
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He tries asking about it once, right after it happened. Before he stops thinking about it.
"Mom, what happened to Riku?"
"Riku?" his mother asks him, not pausing where she is doing the dishes at the sink. "Sora sweetie, is Riku one of your imaginary friends?"
"What?"
His mother puts the dish on the drying rack and turns around to face him. "Are you playing games with me again, honey?"
Sora blinks, wondering what has gotten into his mother. "My friend Riku, mom. Where did he go?"
His mother seems to deem this as one of his antics and goes back to her dishes, picking up the soap. "I'm not sure, Sora. Why don't you check in your room, hm?"
This is a very good idea, Sora decides, leaving the kitchen. Why hadn't he thought of it in the first place? In fact, why was he even bothered at all?
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Kairi washes up onto the beach while Sora is sitting there counting the shells that he collected that day. He sees her body a ways down on the sand and sprints over to her as fast as he can, thinking that maybe this is the start of an adventure.
When he gets there, he sees that her eyes are shut tightly and she is gripping handfuls of the white sand like she is going to fall off the face of the earth. His brain tries to wonder what she is doing there and how she got there and why she would be here now, but it doesn't want to. He gently prods her shoulder, and her eyes snap open, a violently blue-violet color that he has never seen before.
"Sh…" she whispers to him, "It's a secret,"
"It's a secret," he repeats back to her, and watches as she collapses again on the sand.
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"Are you okay, Kairi?" Sora asks, his brow furrowing as she puts a hand to her forehead and stumbles a bit.
They are watching the sunset together on the dock, like they always do. Their boats are tied up there, Sora's a bit more beat up and scratched than Kairi's, and his short legs are dangling off the edge towards the water that is being stained a myriad of different colors.
The redhead looks up at him and winces, although she manages to smile through it. "Yeah, it's just a headache," she replies, sitting down hard on the ground. He sits down with her, frowning, and she giggles at him.
"Just a headache, silly. I'll be alright."
"Are you sure?" He wonders, because Kairi never gets sick, or hurt, and she always teases him because he stays home from school with fevers and strep throat and sometimes he even throws up.
"Yeah," Kairi waves him off, and puts her head in both of her hands, closing her eyes. "I just need to rest a bit, that's all."
"Okay," And Sora believes her; Kairi has never lied to him before.
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"Sh…" Kairi tells him, and he wants to say to her that he's already seen this, that he already knows this, but he finds that his throat isn't working.
"It's a secret,"
"It's a secret," he parrots dutifully to the Kairi with the slightly different eyes and slightly longer hair and he thinks that he might be getting his colors mixed up, because didn't Kairi have different hair, wasn't her hair red, not—
Sora wakes up with a start, and immediately rolls over and goes back to sleep.
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They both decided that today it is too cold outside to do anything, so they are both in Kairi's house, lying on the floor with pillows and blankets and watching previews together, before their movie starts. Sora rolls over onto his side and tugs on a lock of Kairi's short auburn hair.
"What?" she asks him, turning to face him.
"Kairi, where did you come from?" Sora says, in a voice that makes him wonder if he has always wanted to ask this question.
Kairi frowns, and Sora is taken aback by that reaction; she always likes to answer his questions, no matter what they are, and always inquires things of him in return.
"I don't know, Sora. I've already told you that."
He shrugs. "Yeah, I know, but I was just thinking…"
"Well, I don't want to talk about it. Okay?" And with that she faces the television again, looking at the screen so hard that one would think there is nothing more interesting in the world than the commercial for a romantic comedy.
"Okay," Sora lets the subject drop.
He doesn't bring it up again.
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It's always been there they realize, that house, but they never really thought about it before. It's like one of those things that Sora has in the back of his mind, and he sometimes finds them on the tip of his tongue like he wants to say something about it, and then—
Sora opens the door and listens to the ominous creaking that sounds when he does. Kairi moves a little closer to him, where she is standing behind him, and Sora is determined to be brave for both of them so that they can walk inside; it's just another adventure, another day of exploration.
The two children step into the house, their footsteps muffled underneath the layers of dust packed onto the floor. It's white; this room is completely white, along with everything else in it. Or at least, it must have been before; they can hardly tell, for the layers of dirt and grime that cover everything they see.
Sora's blue eyes are wide as he stares around, and he and Kairi separate to examine different parts of the room. He walks over to the table carefully, as though he is afraid of breaking something. On the white, white table there is a small book, and he wonders whether or not he should look in it.
"Sora…" comes Kairi's voice and Sora is startled to hear that she sounds afraid. Almost like she is going to cry. "Sora, I don't like this place."
"What do you mean?" he asks, watching her carefully. Her hand is to her head, like she is getting another one of her splitting headaches.
"I don't like it. Sora. Sora, I want to leave."
"Come on, Kairi, it's not that bad." He turns back to the table and the book, reaching out to pick it up. As he does, the coral-haired girl behind him lets out a gasp, and Sora flinches slightly but doesn't move from where he is flipping through the book. His eyes are glued to it.
"Kairi, look at this…" It's a picture of a boy, a little boy. He has silver hair and aquamarine eyes and a devilish look in those eyes that Sora knows from somewhere, but he can't figure out where. "This boy…"
"Sora!" Kairi falls to her knees, pulling at the roots of her hair and curling in on herself.
He turns the pages faster. More and more and more.
"Hey Kairi, look, it's us."
And it is. She still has her short red hair and he has his chocolate-colored spikes and there is the boy, the one who Sora feels that he is supposed to know but he doesn't, he's never seen him before, and someone else…
"Sh… it's a secret."
Sora drops the book as a sudden thump comes from the other side of a door to his right. It's white on white, again, so it makes sense that he hadn't seen it before. Moving like he is in a trance, the boy sidles over to the door, past his friend who is crying on the floor, and reaches for the handle.
"Sora!"
He can't hear her. He doesn't hear her. He turns the handle, opens the door, and when the sudden cough of dust settles back onto the ground, he sees a small, fragile-looking girl sitting in there, her blonde head resting on arms and knees pulled up to her chest. Her dress is white; white like the rest of the building, white like everything, everything—
"Kairi! Look!" He can't breathe, he can't think, he wants to throw up—who would lock someone in a closet? How long has she been in here?—
"Kairi…"
Sora turns. He turns and turns and turns. The girl who had just been on the floor, holding herself. She had just been there. "Kairi?"
He turns back to the other girl. Her head is up and looking at him with the brightest, purest blue eyes that he has ever seen. Something chokes him, in his throat. His head is foggy; he finds it hard to get out the word, "K- Kairi?"
"Sh…" she whispers to him, a small smile playing around her lips. "It's a secret."
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"Kairi!" Sora calls, laughing and barging noisily into his house like he always does, running up to hug his friend where she is sitting with her head down and her pencil moving like it always is.
She looks up from underneath his arms and smiles, blowing her blonde bangs from in front of her face. "Hello, Sora," she says to him, pushing away her sketchbook and waiting for him to extricate his limbs from hers.
Sora's mother's voice floats in from the den where she is probably sitting and reading a book, as per usual. "What did you call her, Sora?"
Sora blinks. "Um… Na… mi… ne… right?"
Namine's smile grows wider. "Yes. That's right."
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Sora sighs as he leans over the back of Namine's chair to catch a glimpse of what she is drawing this time. It seems to him like she is always drawing the past, and always drawing what has already happened. He wonders why she won't ever draw the future, or something abstract; then again, his friend always likes to reflect on times gone by.
"Who's that?" he asks, pointing to a girl with red hair who is smiling and laughing in the corner of her picture. Namine glances at it before answering him.
"I always draw myself with red hair before blonde hair. I guess I've just always wanted to be a redhead."
And with that, she begins to vigorously erase the girl in the corner.
"Yeah. It would be cool, if you were a redhead."
Namine rips through the paper with her eraser.
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If Sora ever wondered what the future was going to be like, he doesn't remember it.
It's silly, anyways. Why think about the future when you have everything you have ever wanted, right here in the present?
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Namine draws and erases and draws again.
She isn't ever allowed to stop drawing, because if she stops drawing, she will stop having control. And when that happens, Sora will… he will…
The blonde girl sketches the other one, the one with the better eyes and the better hair and the better smile, all because they are real—and when she is finished, she disappears as fast as she comes, from the bottom up until there is nothing left.
You always must start with what is real, when replacing the past.
Namine knows what Roxas would say, if he could see her—she shouldn't be doing this, it isn't her place to be doing this, she should just accept what she is. He may have fallen in love with Kairi, but he wasn't about to go manipulating someone's memories so that he can be with her.
And he had been the one who had been so enraged, when they realized where and what they were.
Namine knows that it isn't Kairi's fault that she was born as the Other Half. She does, she really does. But how is it fair that it's Kairi who gets the taste of real life, of the existence beyond the walls of another's heart?
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Namine can feel something at the edges of the heart that she resides in. "Hello?" she calls out hesitantly, putting down her pencil.
"Hello," comes the distant echo back to her, and she feels like the voice is deeper, somehow, and not hers. Namine stands up and looks around warily. The feeling of something else being there becomes stronger.
"Hello!" she says again, and this time there is a definite answer, one in a different voice. "I'm Namine," she tells the unknown.
"Roxas," he replies, and she can see his form appearing and growing steadily more visible, the edges hardening and the lines darkening. "Who are you?"
Namine knows what he means by that question. "I'm Kairi's Other Half." She replies.
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"Kairi and Sora must be destined," Namine says once, as she and Roxas are sitting in their white, white, white, white, white, like always.
"How do you know?" Roxas asks her, looking through the colorful spheres. They are all he has, just like all she has is her sketchbook and the pencils.
"How else would two Others be able to reach each other?"
She says nothing more. Neither does Roxas.
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"Roxas! Roxas, I erased someone!"
"What?" asks Roxas, sitting up from where he is glancing through his little glass spheres again, at different angles. Not like they ever show him anything new. White, white, white, white, white.
"I brought them here."
Roxas' blue eyes widen and he drops the spheres. "What?" This time, it's not a question.
They both turn to look at the little silver-haired boy who is stumbling around, trying to get his bearings and see where he is. Namine doesn't mention that it is because he is best friends with Sora and Roxas neglects to bring it up.
"How?"
They both turn to stare at the little drawing pad and pencil that she has with her. If Namine can fall in love from afar, then perhaps she can fall in love up close as well.
She ponders Kairi's fate for the first time.
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If she doesn't keep doing it, then it will all come rushing back to Sora, and she will disappear once more. She was alone in that heart for so long, in that place where the Other Half always goes—and her sketches allowed her to end up here, with him. The real him, not the fake (Roxas).
Kairi shouldn't have to pay for Namine's bad luck, and neither should Riku. But to get them back, she would have to—
"Namine!" cries Sora's voice from outside on her porch, knocking on one of the windows. She glances up through her lashes at him, with his sincere smile that was meant for Kairi and his life filled with energy that was meant to be spent with whom he chose.
She chose for him.
Namine draws and erases and draws again.
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Author's Notes:
Alternate Ending (I wrote both and I just couldn't bear that no one would see this one, even if the real one ties it all up better):
Sora deserves to be with the friends that he used to have, and he used to remember because he wanted to. And yet, how could she give up someone who makes her feel so warm inside, who makes her forget that she is the Other Half, the one destined to hide behind thumping emotions her entire life.
With him, she isn't alone.
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Sora wakes up somewhere white, white, white, white, white. He opens his eyes and sees silver hair, red hair, blonde hair.
"What…?" he asks blearily, blinking.
"Sora!" Cry three different voices, two ecstatic and one astonished.
The silver and the red help him sit up, as the blonde studies him, the aura of shock never dissipating. "You're not supposed to be here," says the blonde, shaking his head as he looks around, eyebrows drawing together.
Another, lighter blonde appears next to him.
"He's here now." She says.
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"I wonder why they never had children… I feel like there should be more children running around the place."
"Didn't they?" Another asks, scratching a head and drinking from a mug.
"Where have you been?" Laughs another. "We've tried convincing them, but they say that they don't want any kids."
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Namine draws and erases and draws again.