A/N: Well, surprisingly, here's my second fic... IT'S A MIRACLE! Lol, anyway, thanks again goes to Chibi for the proofreading(hopefully it's better than Sinless) and all you readers-to-be! Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or it's characters, but I do own the idea for the story!
She sat in the big, white room, on the floor. There was no furniture there, just four walls, a floor, and a ceiling that were all that blinding shade of almost neon white so that if you squinted really hard it blurred into one lineless mess and it looked like you were floating in a pretty, endless white abyss. Now that she thought about it, she had to wonder if she was really on the floor after all—there was no way to tell up from down in her big, white box of a world. She didn't complain, though, it was all she knew, and it provided her with the two things essential to her life; a sketchbook and pencils (graphite and colored and every other kind imaginable) that never dulled. She could at least keep busy by herself in this lonely world with her favorite pastime.
So she sprawled out across the "floor" and drew. The sketchbook didn't seem to run out of paper either, and it was her favorite kind, one of those big, spiral-bound sketchbooks with the perforated paper the made it so much easier to tear out the paper so that it looked nice and pretty and just like so…and there, perfect! Another work drifted on the force of her halfhearted toss into the growing pile beside her. This pattern continued on, as she never seemed to run out of ideas to fill the pages of the sketchbook with; she drew portraits, scenery, scenery with people included, surreal pictures that didn't seem to make sense, the list went on, but they all met the same end—crease perfectly, fold back over the crease, fold back again for good measure and then riiiiiiiiip! before being tossed into the pile where all the other works went until she was surrounded by a literal ocean of sketches.
She liked naming the recurring characters as she went, and of course they all recurred because she liked they way they came out, always perfect, like she could dip her hand into the page a pull them out as a living, breathing, real being. She couldn't really do that, of course, it was absurd. They always came out looking real, like they were people that she knew, but that was impossible, wasn't it? She had never known anything beyond the big, white box world, wasn't that true? Or was it? Whenever the thought came to mind, she just buried herself back into her world of art, oblivious to the sea of paper that filled the space around her and the fact that nothing in her world ever changed. All she could do was create, drawing out her characters and naming them, giving them personalities and backstories and weapons and traits so that the people that she drew on paper were so close to the real thing that it made her want to cry because she knew that all they would ever be was graphite on paper and she would still be alone…
Except, there was that one…
She called him Sora, he was a lanky, slightly muscular teenage boy with wild, spiky brown hair and the most beautiful blue eyes. He was the hero of them all, he defended people from the black creatures who tried to take away people's hearts, the creatures she called Heartless. He came from these really beautiful islands in the middle of the ocean on a very peaceful world, and he had two friends—Kairi and Riku, who caused him to set out on an adventure to save all the worlds when Riku was tricked into being bad and Kairi was hurt. She couldn't help but think "I know him, I know him…" every time she drew him, and while staring down at the page she would feel sad, as though she had done something bad to him and she just couldn't remember what it was.
"Their hurting will be mended when you return to mend it."
She found herself looking at the neatly-written words on the paper in confusion, her newest drawing of the boy she called Sora discarded relatively close by, identifiable by the fact she'd ripped it free of the spirals without pulling it out from the perforated edges in her sudden haste to write the now very ugly-seeming words. "What...? Why did I…?" She shook her head and tore the page out, discarding it with the rest of her sketches.
Why did I write it?
I don't know.
Once more.
What?
I need to see him just once more.
Why?
I need to tell him something.
What is it that I need to tell him?
He connects everything. He is the key to everything. Their hurting will be mended when he returns to mend it. He has to know.
How do I tell him?
He'll come. He always comes when someone needs him.
Why do I know that?
He came for me, once.
"Once more. I need to see you once more, Sora." The words echoed through the room as she stood and spoke them, eyes widening at the sight of all that paper. Piles and piles and piles of it that seemed to go on forever in every direction like the ocean that surrounded the islands Sora lived on.
All at once, the paper is gone; the room becomes smaller, much less limitless. It takes on a form that she realizes with a jolt is very much familiar. There is a pod that looks like a budding flower before her which stands in the middle of the room. The sketchbook and pencils are still at her feet, but she ignores them, steps over them carefully, to step up to the pod.
"I'm sorry, Sora, I let the Organization pull you off track once before, now I'm going to try and right that, I just need to see you once more… Wonder if Kairi's mad that I'm monopolizing you?" She shook her head as she pressed one palm to the pod and sighed. "Well, I guess that there's one last time for everything."
With that, Data-Namine stepped back from the pod and returned to her sketchbook. It appeared that her waiting had begun, but it was only a matter of time before Sora came. He always came to those that needed him.
Annnnnnnnd that's it! Thanks for reading, hopefully you enjoyed it, and if so, please review, I'd really appreciate it!