Different Memories, Separate Lives
Chapter I: The Owner of a Common Thought
How had this happened?
This thought, with its indiscriminate wording and universal meaning, could have belonged to anybody and been applied to anything. In fact, on any given city street, it could safely be said that at least a dozen people within view held this thought inside their minds.
However, in this particular case, the thought belonged to only one person. Although he stood at the corner of a city street, as in the description above, if any other person had been thinking that same thought, one glance at the man would instantly change their dominant thought from that to something along the lines of, "What happened to him?"
If there ever was a true owner of that contemplative line, it would have been him. It had run itself through his mind so many times in the past few days; there had barely been room for anything else. Mostly it was thought or spoken in sheer bewilderment, as he worked tiredly to express confusion at the situation he was in. But now, the words were taking on a new meaning. They were no longer directed at what had gone on in his life, but instead, in the life of who he was watching…
His attention was focused on a group of people inside a… Coffee place or restaurant thing, he still didn't know what kind of label to put on this type of building. Near the large front window, they all sat, as though they were purposely put on display for him to see. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. All of them had caught his eye, for he had seen them all before. But the last time he had seen them, the situation had been very different… And they'd all looked different, too.
There was a brunette girl who looked as though she did her best to be trendy—He didn't know much about whatever styles were popular here, but since her clothing and hair were mostly indistinguishable from what he'd seen on other people in his few days here, he assumed she kept on top of the latest fashions. Seated to her right, there was a guy who seemed to think himself to be a punk, based on his purple hair and mangled black clothing. To the girl's right, in stark contrast, there was a brunette boy who looked as though his mother still laid out his clothes for him every morning before waking him up with a kiss to start the day.
He supposed that was how the kid was always bound to end up, had he not been forced to cultivate some independence.
Across the table, there was a small and noticeably pale blonde girl, whose disheveled hair and mismatched clothing suggested that her mind was usually elsewhere. And seated beside her… There sat the main focus of his attention. It had taken his eyes a short while to wander over to him; perhaps they were fearful of what they would see. Maybe there would be a different boy there, or an empty seat… But as soon as he looked, he could tell instantly that it was him. A boy with golden hair and perfectly tanned skin, with eyes that could be cut out and sold as two flawless, deep blue sapphires…
His outfit looked as though he'd had a bad run-in with too many of the popular clothing stores he'd seen, but then again, he'd always preferred him in a plain black leather cloak or nothing at all.
He'd simply stood and gazed upon the group for the longest time, trying to decide what to do. He still knew precious little about this world, and he had no idea how his appearance would be received by the boy… After all, the last time he'd come to him out of nowhere, it hadn't ended well. And with this many people around… He'd decided that, no. he couldn't risk going up to him right now. He might need proper time to explain things, and it would be difficult to do that in public. And if his first introduction didn't go over well, then he could lose his only chance to be with him…
He'd thought that he'd lost his only chance to be with him so many times already. So many times… Fights in the Organization that had usually ended up with one or both of them maimed and angered, he'd think that either he or the kid had screwed things up too badly for them to make amends. His act of leaving the Organization to find whatever meaning that damn Keyblade had in 'choosing him'. How he hadn't remembered him when he'd found him in fake town… And then, how he'd remembered, but too late. And when he had faded away without getting the chance to say goodbye…
"We'll meet
again… In the next life."
"Yeah. I'll be waiting."
"…Silly. Just because you have a next life…"
Those had been his parting words, the last time he had seen him. Though the bewildered boy had agreed to them, he himself hadn't placed any faith in them. After all… He was a Nobody, and the boy was a Nobody—or, had been at the time, anyway. He'd supposedly become 'whole', after… But Nobodies weren't supposed to have next lives. They didn't have beings, or souls, that could be passed on to another life. They never truly lived, and never truly died. They simply appeared, and faded away…
He'd faded away after saving the boy's other half from a swarm of attackers. He'd spent what seemed like eternity, but just as easily could have been a day, in the timeless void, waiting for whatever fate come his way… Waiting… Waiting… Waiting. And then he'd drifted off, in what he assumed was a Nobody's form of death, but what ended up seeming no more than a simple sleep, for he'd woken up… Here.
Where was 'here'? He didn't know. He'd inquired around, and eventually discovered that he was on a world called 'Earth', but… He didn't recognize this name of the place at all, and his knowledge of geography, while not top-notch, wasn't so bad that he'd have forgotten the existence of a world. He'd tried asking again, to see if there'd been a mistake or if he'd misheard the person's words, but people tended to look at him strangely whenever he asked. Perhaps this was one of those worlds that the other worlds had no knowledge of, and that had no knowledge about the existence of others…
But this confusion had led him to another hypothesis, one which seemed to be far more likely. Maybe this world wasn't real after all. Perhaps it was just another simulated town, where he was being kept until the Organization could pull him out and use him again… Or something like that…
Even if the world wasn't real, though, he knew he would have to find his place in it, so he could examine it without attracting so much attention. Because if this ended up being some purgatory, or maybe a hell, that he would spend eternity in, then it would be best if he could find a way to enjoy it, and it was hard to do that without first learning what there was to do. Unfortunately, despite his best efforts, he still stuck out in a crowd. After all, he was tall and pale with long, spiked red hair, and he had a penchant for black leather, after having worn it all his life. The markings on his face, no matter how small they were, didn't do him one bit of good either.
That was why, during his increasingly long vigil, he had begun to attract more and more stares. He was hardly aware of them, though. The amount of attention he paid to the boy left little room for him to notice anything else.
He didn't know how long it was before he'd begun to notice something strange. The main focus of his attention, and the girl he was sitting beside… He felt as though there was some kind of connection between them. Although it seemed that everyone in the group was friends with one another, these two had something… Something more… But he pushed the thought out of his head. No, that wasn't possible. Last he'd known, the two of them had nothing between them. They were a jailer and her captive, and that was all. He'd hated her… In the last life…
…In the last life…
…But in this life…
…Something had…
…Changed…
His thoughts were shattered and thrown apart as he saw the two of them lock lips. He was only able to watch, his mind a blank and his jaw agape, as he saw the two of them… No, this wasn't true. His mind had teamed up with his eyes and they were both playing some kind of cruel trick on him. This wasn't… real, it couldn't be…
But it was.
He'd thought, when he first saw him, that this life would give then the chance to try again. For one final time, they could try to make things work… But Roxas had already found someone.
How had this happened?
Maybe this was Hell after all.
Notes: Okay. This is a little story I wrote. As with many of my stories, I'm not sure how good it is, or if the idea is overused, stupid, etc. Because, as I've said, I don't like to hang around the fanfiction areas of some of the more popular fandoms, because of reasons many true fans would probably understand.
Anyway, I'm not sure if/when I'll be writing the second chapter. Yes, I'll probably end up writing a second chapter, because a few of my friends have already requested it. I hope my writing can bring joy into my readers' lives. Or… Something. Besides, I've been wanting to write this story for a while, and I really enjoyed writing the first chapter. And for once, I'm somewhat pleased with how it turned out. So, if you enjoyed this installment, perhaps I'll see you next time