"Alabaster Lady"

Disclaimer: Disney characters are © Disney. Square characters are the property of SquareEnix.

Author's Note: Contains some spoilers for the ending of Chain of Memories.

Nobody tells the secretary anything. I just serve coffee, keep records, file papers, and clean up messes. My role in Operation Skeleton Key was minimal. I didn't even hear about Marluxia's plot until after his demise. My main concern was Naminé - bringing her meals, sharpening her pencils, and tucking her in at night.

A few days before Sora, his companions, and Riku arrived, Castle Oblivion was full of activity. I went about my usual duties, including deciphering Vexen's illegible handwriting to type up his lab reports, ironing, and making enough custom coffee orders to fill a Starbucks warehouse.

I handed Axel his coffee cup. "One fully-caffeinated Colombian latte, nonfat milk, exactly one teaspoon of sugar, with a whisper of cinnamon." It had always been a thankless job; my efforts to give Axel a dictionary with the words thanks' and gratitude' bookmarked and highlighted in bright yellow notwithstanding, he didn't seem to know the meaning of the phrase thank you.'

He sipped cautiously from the mug and set it back on the tray. "Everyone else is busy. Want a little on-the-job practice?"

"A practice duel?" I asked. I didn't trust that scheming redhead any farther than I could kick him. "Sorry. Not in my job description."

"We'll see about that." Axel pulled out a sheet of paper - my job description. "Here. Sparring partner' is between shining Axel's shoes' and stamp licking.'"

I laughed scornfully. "That said Superior's shoes.' You just scratched it out and substituted your name."

"So what if I did?"

"If it'll make you leave me alone, I'll fight one duel. Whoever draws first blood is the winner."

"Fine by me," he replied. "I'd be in hot water with the Superior if I offed his best secretary." His two shuriken-like weapons materialized in his hands. "Don't hold back."

I silently took out my deck of cards and my own weapon, a trident.

Axel made a mock bow. "Ladies first."

I quickly used a sleight - Cloudburst, a torrential downpour of rain. It was as if a waterfall pounced on Axel. He was drenched from head to toe. His spiky red hair had fallen flat, and his robe was heavy enough to hamper his movement.

It barely saved me from being on the receiving end of those blades. He was unable to ignite his fire due to my water-based attacks, but he teleported repeatedly. The only way I could avoid the rings was to deflect one with the handle of my trident and teleport before he could swing the other. He never stood still long enough for me to attempt a stab with the trident's prongs. I was puffing and panting, barely managing to stay unscathed.

Axel stopped, still dripping wet. There were holes in his cloak from my acid rain attacks. "Let's call this a draw."

I was relieved. "Accepted, sir."

I heard my beeper and reached for it. The text message was from Marluxia, summoning me to the thirteenth floor. I turned my back to leave.

Big mistake.

One of Axel's blades sliced into my shoulder. The fabric of my black robe tore along with the skin underneath. I looked at the injury. Not deep enough to be serious, but would leave a scar. "Ugh! Axel, you creep!"

"Shouldn't be so trusting," the redhead sneered. "It doesn't suit one of the Organization."

I let out a moan of pain and teleported away to clean and dress my wound.

When I finished, Marluxia was still waiting on the thirteenth floor. "You will be Naminé's maid for her stay. Bring her anything she wants - within reason. Do not make eye contact. Address her only as Naminé' or Miss.' Keep your sentences short and to the point. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"And relax. She's only a little girl."

I didn't say much that first meeting, only introduced myself and put a chocolate mint on her pillow. I remember thinking about she looked younger than her twelve years.

I don't remember much about my childhood, but I was a lot stockier and taller than Naminé at age twelve. My hair was always mousy brown, not golden blonde. Nevertheless, she reminds me of myself at that age. Ever heard the expression "little children are angels without wings"? That's what Naminé looked like - the long golden hair, the big blue eyes, the white dress. Although her skin was peach, the dress made it look pale. Like alabaster. She looked like a statue that could tip over any minute and break.

It was pretty obvious from the start that Marluxia frightened her. Naminé didn't want to manipulate the Keyblade Master at all. I wish I had said more to her when Sora was going through the castle. I was afraid of Marluxia, too - he didn't carry that big scythe just to look cool. I've gotten to know her better in the past few days. Everyone else had left - Axel, Sora and his companions, and the white-haired demon. I had to stay behind to clean up the mess. For some reason, in all the bathrooms (located near the save point crystals on every floor), the stalls had been defaced with permanent marker. Most annoying of the upstairs graffiti was all around the walls, two inches from the floor: the words 'Jiminy was here.' The basement bathrooms were even worse: vague obscenities and some crude caricatures of Ansem.

"Naminé?" I entered her bedroom. She was seated on her bed, drawing in her sketchpad.

I set down the tray. "What are you drawing?"

She showed me. A sketch of Sora.

"Cute kid," I commented. "Though what's with the shoes? Not that I have any room to talk." I smoothed my black robe and sat down. "It doesn't get any more cliché than long black cloaks. Not to mention their heaviness. I spent half my time sweating and the other half wondering why Axel never spontaneously combusted."

I saw a bit of a smile cross her face.

"You miss him that bad," I said. "Why did you hide when he woke up?"

"I'm too ashamed," she replied.

"For manipulating him? It's not like you actively chose. Marluxia practically had a gun to your head. Sora could see that. He saw Marluxia use you as a human shield, for crying out loud!"

"He's forgotten me. Forgotten Marluxia, too."

"So? All you have to do is find him, be his friend without any manipulation involved and make new memories. Real ones."

"He could be anywhere."

"Anywhere but here!" No answer. I continued. "Why are you so afraid of seeing him again? He forgave you. You didn't put that in his head. He did it himself."

"Sora has someone else. Kairi. She's waiting on the island for him."

"Is he married?"

"What?"

"Married? Yoked? Hitched?"

"No."

"He's fair game, then. Teenage romance is fickle. What's to say he and Kerry…"

"Kairi."

"Whatever. What if it doesn't work out? Sora will be yours to fawn over and he'd have to have a heart of rock not to return your love. And what you saw wasn't even Kairi. It was Sora's perception of Kairi. She could be a little jerkette. What does she look like anyway?"

"Skinny as a stick, red hair, revealing outfit."

"Gentlemen prefer blondes. How are you ever going to know if you just stay here wondering about it? I had a crush on Lexaeus. He was the only one here who even bothered to say thank you' when I served him his coffee. I waited and waited for him to notice me, and look what happened. He's dead. I'll never get to tell him how I felt."

Naminé was quiet for a few minutes. "What if Sora rejects me? Here, I'm safe. I hated this place at first, but now that they're gone..."

"But you have so much to offer the world. And so much to receive from it. There's no reason for you to be stuck here like Repunzel in the tower." How could she lose hope at age twelve?

"Like false memories? I don't know how or why I have these powers."

"The castle itself has an effect on memories. Like you said, you rearrange the links, but this place clouds them. Maybe you've just forgotten how you got your abilities."

"No. I've never understood them. I can't leave. Not alone. Come with me, Aveluxe."

"I can't come with you. The Organization could recall me any day now. If I try to run, well, I won't get far. And I'd be putting you in danger."

"You're not like the others. Why?"

"Why did I join the Organization?" I asked. "Nobody's ever asked me that before. Can't recall. Lousy answer, but it's all I can come up with. Money? Power? Masochistic streak? Maybe I'm really a horrible person."

"I could read your memories and see."

"No thank you, Naminé. When I leave, I'll remember. That's not what I fear."

"What do you fear?"

I sighed. "Time."

"Time? Why?"

"It goes fast. One moment, you can say something, but if you stop to think, the moment's gone. Time only goes one direction. And it's permanent. You can't go back and make a different decision. Changing the course of history is impossible. And it's so uncertain what tomorrow will bring."

Naminé opened the heavy velvet powder-blue curtains. Dawn crept across the floor like musical notes wafting through a concert hall. "If you could live your life again, would you have done anything different?"

I shrugged and poured myself a cup of tea. "If I could remember. My job had its irritations, but I managed to take it in stride. Most of the time."

She sat down again, and picked up a piece of toast, carefully peeling the crust off it. "I remember witnessing a meteor shower when I was little. It felt like the sky was going to fall in. That memory of Sora promising to protect me was a lie, but it was rooted in truth. Do you know what he said to me?"

"What did he say?"

"He said, Even though it started with a lie, I'm happy I met you.' I made him happy, even for a minute. And he saw me as a person, not a shadow of Kairi. If I could go back in time and change what happened, I don't think I'd do anything different."

"Not even to kiss him while you had the chance?" I said teasingly.

Naminé laughed this time. "Maybe I will someday. Like you said, we don't know what'll happen tomorrow."

I had never had a child of my own, probably never will. But seeing that smile, that light in those blue eyes made me feel complete. As if I had finally accomplished something worthwhile in my life. "I'll miss you if you go."

"I'll miss you too." She threw her arms around me. An odd sight we must have made - a twelve year old girl in a white dress and a thirty-one year old woman in a black cloak. Black and white. Innocence and experience. Unrelated by blood, but mother and daughter in memory.

"I will remember you," we said together.

The End