(Hello everyone! It's me, Topaz. Here I go again with one of my risky Kingdom Hearts escapades...don't you love that word? "Escapades"? Um...regardless, this is obviously a CoM/KHII fic, just as an FYI. It's about quite the interesting little family. Enjoy, and make sure to tell me your thoughts! --Topaz Fox)
(Disclaimer:I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any of its various attachments.)
There was a gentle knock on the door. Namine looked up very slightly, flicking her cool gaze to the sound and then back to her sketchbook page. "It's open," she called softly, her voice rising and drifting down like a feather on a breeze.
Someone turned the doorknob, causing it to emit a little series of rolling clicks. Footsteps sounded, coming into Namine's room, and then the creak and thunk of the door closing again. Namine knew who her visitor was even before a voice said, "Hey, babe. How're you doing?"
Namine didn't bother to look away from her drawing. She slashed a couple of pencil strokes across the page. "I'm fine, papa." The words came out as a sigh, partially agitated and partially sorrowful.
More footsteps thudded across the white floor and stopped next to Namine. In her peripheral vision, she could see the black-robed man with the wild red hair, and just barely caught a glimmer of concern in the eyes that were so like hers. "Nami."
The single word, the lowly pet name, was elevated into a command. Namine obeyed and looked at her father, annoyed that he would interrupt her like this. "Nami," the man continued, "baby, I know you're not fine. Something's bugging you. What's up? Tell me."
Silence. A whisper of pencil crossing page in a zigzag river was the only noise that perfumed the air. The man sighed and stood, revealing his unusual height and boyish, lanky build. He crossed his arms. "Would you just fess up already?" he said, nearly snapping. He tapped one black boot on the spotless floor. "It's not like I'm gonna make fun of you." Namine knew she was on the verge of awakening her father's fiery temper, a trait she had not inherited. Actually, she didn't act like her mother, either: her mother was snippy and made a habit of bringing people down with cutting words. Namine was the polar opposite of her parents: she was quiet, reserved and reflective.
Though her demeanor revealed neither parent, her appearance mirrored them both. She had the petit build of her mother, a build some might classify as "scrawny", and the strong, attractive, well-featured face of her father. Like her father and mother both, her eyes were a powdery blue, and her hair was a combination of passionate red and sharp yellow: a mulled, contented gold.
Namine sighed. "It's Maluxia," she murmered. "I…I don't like what he's making me—us—do. It's not…it's not right. Sora didn't do anything to deserve this." She cast her face up towards her dad, searching for agreement, approval, anything that showed he felt the same. But there was nothing there but worry and a small bit of arrogance.
"Nams…you know this'll make it better. For all of us." The man began to pace back and forth in the burning white room. "Hey, our motives are pretty simple if you think about it. And your job isn't bad at all—you just hafta swap around some kid's memories, right? It's not like you're even really changing them. You're just…uh…editing."
Again, the only sound that could be heard was the scraping rush of penciled lines being drawn. Namine knew for a fact that her father was wrong…deadly wrong. Sora wasn't just some kid, and ruining someone's memories came with immense responsibility and even pain. But she wouldn't say so. By now, she had learned to let people run with their own realities.
The man stopped pacing and stood above his daughter. "Y'get me?" he said brightly. "All these things are good." Namine nodded slowly, and the man placed a heavy hand on her head. "That's my girl." He turned towards the door.
"…Papa?" Namine's soft voice made the man turn around once again, his mane of red hair bobbing like a bloody ocean. He blinked. "Yeah?" Namine gestured with her head, looking from her father to the open sketchbook. He knew enough about his little girl to decode her silent requests. Arching over his daughter's shoulder, resembling a black-cloaked, handsome gargoyle, he looked at the colors on the page and saw three figures lined up side by side.
All of them were turned away; their faces were not visible. The man inhaled sharply when he recognized the people in the picture: one black-robed with a great mass of jagged red hair—himself—one small and clothed in white, adorned with golden locks—Namine—and one dressed in black like he was, with a smooth shock of electric blonde hair—"Larxene," he said, too quietly for Namine to hear. Then, more loudly, "That's us all together." Namine nodded sadly. She looked up and over her shoulder, her eyes round and pleading, their patina as wet and sleek as marble. Her gaze was the only thing that could make her father melt. "Will we ever be like that? You and mama and I?"
Uneasy laugher choked its way from the man's lips. "Not likely, babe. We gotta keep this one secret, 'kay? For a long time. Maybe…maybe forever. But we still all love each other, right? So it's all good." He kissed Namine on the forehead. His lips were dried and cracked, and they felt sharp against her skin.
He spun around to face the door once more, this time actually walking to it, and before he left, he said, "Keep up the good work, Nami. I'll see you soon." Namine looked at him. She was withering from the inside out, and although it was barely noticeable, the man at the door saw it. He tried to ignore how hollow his daughter's eyes had become.
"Bye, papa."
Before the door had entirely shut, Namine heard a different voice from outside: "Axel? What are you doing now?" Her father's voice answered hotly. "I'm just checkin' on the witch, Zexion. Is that a problem?" Zexion grunted in reply, and then Namine's door was shut.
-Fin-