origin /ˈɔrɪdʒɪn, ˈɒr-/ Show Spelled Pronunciation Show IPA – noun

the first stage of existence; beginning.

Countless machines whir and buzz, even as she rushes forward. She ignores them, instead focusing on the pod in the middle of the room. She had spent so long working on this, and now it's time to see if this has worked. Her heart is pounding in anticipation and excitement. The pod is opening now, and part of her is quaking.

The pod opens and smoke pours out. Shielding her face in the recent light, she takes slow, deliberate steps forward. As she takes in the dark figure contained within the white pod, she can't help but feel her quivering heart about to burst from joy. Yes, things have gone right, and she's about to face as close to a reunion as she can get.

But then the smoke clears enough for her to actually see the creature within. Her heart almost shatters in disappointment, but she holds her head high. There are always setbacks with these things, after all. Besides, this means she'll have company while she works.

The smoke has finally cleared enough for her to be sure. Seems she's right—the young boy within isn't anything like him. Where the hair of the one she'd attempted to make is blond, this one's is a soft brunette, and is spiked differently from the other's. His face also is a slightly difference shape, and he has just a slightly different build. Perhaps the only thing the same is the same brilliant shade of blue in his eyes—the color of sky.

She takes a few steps closer, coming right up to the pod, and her own eyes colored to match the deepest ocean take in the small boy even more. She swiftly unwraps the white cloth around her waist, using it to cover the small and fragile form of the child within the pod. Gentle hands then rest on his shoulders as she gazes down on him. Now is the moment of truth…

"…Now, open your eyes."

Her voice is so soft, full of prayer for something to go right. The boy is immediately awake, luckily, and blinking a lot before looking around. She heaves a sigh of relief, then takes a step back, holding out a hand to him.

"Good morning."

It's offered up in a kind and friendly manner, a gentle greeting to welcome the boy into the worlds. He takes her hand, using her to guide him on shaky legs out of the pod and into the dark, mechanical room.

"Good morning."

It's an automatic reply, mimicking hers. It worries her, though, because his voice, though soft and similar to his, lacks any emotion. Still, she leads him along, hand-in-hand, towards the door she'd entered from—towards light and warmth.

"Do you know who I am?"

A sudden question, her looking down at him from beneath blue bangs. He seems to think for a moment, turning it all over in his head as the two walk. He seems to be contemplating how he should answer before doing so, finally shrugging.

"You are the one who made me."

A simple response, but a correct one. Still, she can't help but feel her heart fall a bit in her chest. She doesn't understand why, but she feels sad for the boy—not because she failed what she was doing, but because he seems to not feel a thing.

They walk through the door, and she lifts him to set him up on a counter. There, she gives him a once-over before going a bit further down in the brightly lit room. She fishes in a box, then pulls out the makings of a sandwich.

"…Are you feeling well?" she asks idly, though she knows the answer. Still, it's conversation, and that's what matters. She's waiting for his answer, spreading mayonnaise on the bread while humming lightly to herself.

"There are no problems with me, if that's what you mean."

Another simplistic response, but what more can she expect from such a young boy? He'd just woken up, just been born. She has to cut him some slack… Or so she tells herself as she places two slabs of cool turkey on the bread, topping it off with cheese and lettuce. The blue woman then offers the sandwich to the boy, and he takes it.

At least he has a healthy appetite.

She watches him a moment, then goes to clean up the work are and tuck the food supplies away. She's humming again as he chows down on the sandwich. Apparently, being born makes one very hungry.

She's in the process of organizing papers on a nearby desk when there's a tug at her overskirt. She looks down, smiling a bit at the white-wrapped boy standing there, looking up at her with those sky-blue eyes.

"…Your name… …Is Aqua… Right?" he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly.

Her eyes go wide for a moment, and her heart nearly bursts from hope. She kneels down then, placing eager hands on his shoulders as she gazes into his soft, round face. Her ocean eyes search for any glimmer of recognition in his sky ones, but there is nothing.

"…There are words on the inside of the wrap. It says 'Property of Aqua.'" the boy says after a moment. She'd forgotten about that. She'd put it there in an attempt to stop a certain someone from playing with her wrap like a toy.

Once more, her heart falls.

"…Do I have a name?" he asks. An innocent question that makes her think for a moment. She hadn't named him yet, had she?

"Would you like one?" she questions gently, smiling at him still. He gives a brief nod. And before she even realizes what she's saying, it all begins to fall out of her mouth.

"Then your name is Ve—"

She stops herself mid-name and looks down. Sadness overcomes her as she stands, keeping a hand on his shoulder. No, he's not him. She can't act like he is. He's someone different and deserves a different name.

"…No…" she whispers, slowly shifting one hand to her side and the other to rest two fingers beneath his chin. Aqua tilts his chin upward, so that she can look into his eyes—eyes he should be named after.

"…Your name is Sora."

~*~

Months pass. He is lucky, she says, in that he can summon a similar weapon—she can then train him much more easily, even with how simplistic his looks. He's also lucky in that he has a gift for magic and that he's good with caring for himself.

This is all especially good, she notes as she gazes herself in the mirror. She'd not really been eating well lately, what with her extra work for Sora, and sleep's almost non-existent. She's too busy working on a way to let him feel emotion.

Today, though… Today that all changes. She looks warily at the parcel she'd put together, worry flashing over her face. Perhaps, she begins to think, it's sometimes good to not feel emotion. Because this could break the poor boy…

"Aqua?"

The voice is sudden, and it causes her to jump. With a weak smile, she turns around to Sora, resting her hands on her knees. He's dressed in burnt oranges and dark grays—the colors she chose for him.

"Sora… I want you to go run to the nearby store and get us some ice cream. Today, we celebrate." Aqua says, her smile growing. The boy nods, and she reaches over to the desk. There, the woman digs in a drawer and produces enough munny for two ice cream bars.

With the munny tucked safely in his pocket, the boy leaves their home—the facility she'd long-since revamped into this place. With a sigh, then, as the door closes, she sits down on her bed, wearily staring at herself in the mirror.

What had once been a form-fitting top is now loose, and she only has to raise it a bit to see her ribs. They aren't too visible, but a little is enough to be worrisome. She really needs to get back into the habit of eating... And then there are the bags under her eyes.

Once more, her gaze shifts over to the parcel. Something in her chest tightens, and she bites her lip. It's not too late—she can hide them before he gets back, and she'll never have to worry about him breaking or being hurt. He wouldn't feel, but she could pace herself now that he can defend himself—get herself healthy before working on a new route.

With a determined nod to herself, Aqua stands, takes up the parcel, and makes her way to the main facility—the rooms where Sora's first hours were.

Doors are pushed open, passwords put in, and many other such obstacles to reach the depths of the facility. The parcel is held close to her chest, and her heart aches at the thought of what it contains. So close, and yet so far from giving that boy emotions…

Once she reaches the chamber that had first produced the boy, she opens the pod once more. The parcel is placed within, and she heaves a sigh, running slender fingers over the brown paper packaging.

"So this is where you've been hiding…"

It's a deep voice, one that sends chills up her spine and makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. But at the same time, it's so familiar—comforting her in some odd way. Immediately, her heart clenches in her chest, and with the gravity of what's actually happen, she straightens and slowly turns.

Tears from a past life, one she'd left behind with his death, stream down from eyes that reflect the ocean.

As she stares at the figure, she subtracts and adds in certain places—removes the deep color of his skin to make him paler, adds it to his hair to make it brown, and takes the gold from his eyes to make them blue once more.

"…Terra."

It's a hesitant whisper, one she almost fears will break the world if she lets it out. But there it is, a simple name laid out in the open with a single breath, and here they still are, world and all. He seems almost to hover just off the ground, arms crossed over his chest, and she stands with fists clenched at her side.

"I no longer go by that name, Aqua. In fact, for the same reasons as to why, I've sought you out…"

His tone is dark, almost amused at her confusion. Even as his arms fall to his side, her mind once more adding and subtracting and changing him into something he no longer is. Even as he begins to take slow and very deliberate steps forward.

It all hits her at once—his reasoning, the realization that the Terra she knew is long gone, that he's no longer human and that she's going to have trouble with this fight. But so long as she keeps him from finding out about Sora…

…No one should have to die because of the actions of another. No one, even if they didn't share the same way of being born, even if they're an artificial being. To have one's life extinguished because of an old grudge is a terrible and wrong thing.

And that is why, even though she can feel death breathing down her neck, Aqua summons her Keyblade and prepares to fight the ghost of her old friend.

~*~

It had taken him an extra long time to retrieve the ice cream today. The store nearby had been unusually busy, and so Sora'd had to sift through crowds and aisles to find the ice cream before even thinking about paying. Luckily, with his one item, he got precedence.

However, all ideas of a simple afternoon off are dashed as soon as he opens the door. The air is oddly heavy, and there is a thin veil of grey mist hanging over everything. He proceeds with caution, setting the ice cream down on a counter as the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

That's when he notices it: the door to the labs has been ripped off its hinges, left open like an inviting package just for him.

He's not worried, but he really should make sure Aqua's okay—especially with the state their home is in. So, he takes off into the dark depths of the labs, leaving the ice cream behind to melt on the counter, forgotten.

All he has to do is follow the path of the destruction, and he easily finds the place he's looking for. It's in the depths of the lab, near where he'd been born, that he finds the broken woman. She's bleeding from multiple wounds, gasping for breath. He wagers one of her lungs has collapsed by now.

But he doesn't care. He feels no sympathy for her, nor does he feel sadness for her pain. He simply walks up to her and stands over her, staring down at her with his sky-colored eyes. And all she can do, even as she's in pain and probably dying…

…Is smile up at him.

"S-Sora," she whispers, "T… There's a lot I h-have to tell you right n-now."

The boy nods, kneeling down next to her. He can feel the tension in the air, understands that this is important. So he listens, listens with his ears and mind open to accept what she is giving him.

"…You were created by me… Because I lost someone dear to me. Two someones, really, but… Only one of them could I ever bear to even think about replicating. The other, I will never forgive."

Her voice is shaky, even as she struggles to speak slowly so as not to stutter. She must be clear, concise. One day, the boy may understand her reasoning. One day, he may be able to comprehend the whys of all of this, including why Terra did this…

"…The latter was named Terra. He gave in to darkness one day, and the other went to try to talk him back into the light. …Terra killed him in cold blood."

She shakes her head, then winces, forcing herself up. She has to give Sora the parcel, she feels. This is her only chance. So she stumbles along, into the room and back to the pod. Thank the Light Terra had left it alone.

"…This is for you. They're books I've compiled."

She turns to him, placing the parcel—brown paper stained with her blood—into his hands. She then kneels, pulling her to him. He doesn't react, though. He doesn't know how to—this is an emotional response to something.

"…Ventus… Forgive me… I've done such a horrible thing, to damn this child to a life of running…" she whispers to someone unseen. Sora can only assume she means the other one—the one this Terra figure killed.

Then, Aqua releases him and lies back down, staring up at Sora a few more moments. There is longing in her ocean-blue eyes, and they are deep pools of regrets and hopes. She reaches up with a weak hand, gently cupping his cheek.

"…Don't ever open those books, Sora. It might be too much for you. And I'd sooner see you without emotion than broken."

Sora nods, just staring down at her quietly. Her hand falls away, and she rests them on her stomach. She seems oddly peaceful as she gazes up through a hole in the ceiling. In fact, her smile even seems restful.

"…The sky… …His eyes always… …Reflects the sky…" she whispers, her own eyes slipping shut as she began to fade. Her breathing is slowing, as is the blood flow.

"…Just like yours…"

And with that, no longer does Aqua's heart beat or her chest rise. There is no more breath in her tired body, and she slips into a sleep so deep there is no waking from it.

Sora only looks down at her. But he feels nothing. There are no tears, no pain, no sadness. Just emptiness, like always, making up his very being. For how can one mourn the loss of someone when they can't even feel emotion to begin with?