There was a certain blonde-haired boy who wouldn't let her go.

She'd loved it at first, of course, once she'd gotten her head out of her books long enough to notice. She was flattered, at the time. No one had ever looked at her in that way before (not that she knew of, anyway). After all, how appealing was a bookworm? She never really bothered doing much with her hair (though people often marveled at its currant color), and she'd never had the patience for makeup, either.

He didn't seem to care about that sort of thing, though. Actually, he'd once confided in her that the thing which had first drawn him to her was her indigo eyes (and there she thought they were blue). He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, taking the time to see that she was such a reader not because she was a nerd, but because she wanted to know more, see more, than what their little town provided. They would talk and laugh for hours, about the world and skateboarding and sea-salt ice cream, and for the first time ever, she was content. She imagined that maybe she could live in the world they created, be free of that nagging feeling that she was missing something. For a time, it was gone (though she didn't realize why until it was far too late).

Then senior year came (oh, how it came). While they were still technically an 'item', they drifted apart, busy with applications and schoolwork and jobs and such. They went from taking time out to see each other daily to seeing each other every week or so. That's when the nagging feeling came back with a vengeance. She threw out all her applications for the nearby schools, choosing instead to only apply to colleges in distant and exotic locales. If she really didn't like it, she figured, she could always transfer or something (she figured wrong).

They had their first real fight when he found out. He accused her of running away; she demanded to know since when her every decision was his business. That's when his love became stifling. Gentle bonds of affection became unbearable chains, keeping her from what she wanted to do—God, from what she was meant to do! No one could run her life but her (what a lovely delusion). She saw now how he was holding her back. He was refusing to let her go. Well, she would let herself go, thank you very much.

So the next day, when he came to her, she made a point of asking Sora to a movie. He was not pleased, which gave her a perverse sort of pleasure. He broke it off with her right then and there, saying he was glad she was leaving, after all (she'll never know he was about to apologize and even apply to some of the same schools, so they could be together). She just smiled at him, an innocent, smug little smile. That only set him off even more, culminating in him stomping off (Olette was quick to check on him, she noticed) and declaring that he was glad to have seen this side of her before getting too attached.

Graduation came and went, with her attending some far-flung university, while he stayed in state. While she thoroughly enjoyed herself, that nagging feeling never really went away, leading her to study abroad and travel extensively.

At the end of the four years, she decided, on a whim, to come home for graduate school. It would be interesting, after all, to see what everyone had made of themselves. Maybe that strange feeling of hers would go away if she went home. So home she went (if only she knew what awaited her there).

She crashed at home, unpacking her bags and letting nostalgia take her. She let herself remember, for the first time since leaving, what had happened between him and herself. It was rather terrible of her to let things end like that, she decided. The least she could do would be to visit him and apologize (such high-minded notions come before a fall when insincere). Yes, that was definitely the right thing to do. She looked up his address—he'd already moved into his dorm—and went up to his room. After knocking demurely on the door, she cheerfully greeted his roommate, introducing herself and everything. The boy—Hayner—seemed somewhat anxious once he heard her name, somehow. Still, she blithely pranced in, unaware of anything that could go wrong (blinded by her old feelings, no doubt).

She stopped dead in her tracks. They weren't…kissing…or anything, but somehow the sight of them holding hands and talking (to him, to her blonde boy) seemed incredibly intimate.

"Ro—Roxas?" she choked out.

He jumped up, clearly surprised to see her. "Kairi? Oh, wow, it's been so long!"

The blonde at his side smiled shyly. "Oh, are you Kairi? I've heard about you." She laughed suddenly. "Only good things, of course."

"Of course," was the hoarse echo.

"I'm Naminé. Nice to meet you!"

"Wonderful."

The nagging redoubled, and she knew what it was—or whom—that she'd been missing all this time.

But it was too late; he was gone, and she was left floating alone.

Hey! Okay, so this is a fic I'd originally written...oh, ages ago, for lunamaria's "Beautiful Words" contest. I don't think I ever posted it--though I'm not sure why; actually, I'd forgotten about it and only stumbled across it today. It's based off of a poem by lunamaria, though I'll not post it here, since I didn't ask her permission for that.

Nothing belongs to me but the plot!