A/N: Prize for Medli45 for her entry "Warmth" in KHPlatonicLove's "Protection" event. C: This one-shot was inspired by her sketch of Naminé sitting with sleeping!Ven in the Chamber of Waking. There were a lot of ideas I had from lots of her sketches, but this one was the one that formed itself the most coherently. ^^;
Naminé's breaths pounded out as quick and frantic as her fleeing footsteps. She only had a few seconds before Larxene would be out of the bathroom; if she could just find a way out, anything, a door, a window even—
There were plenty of doors, but every one she threw open only led to blinding white rooms, white halls, white prisons with black stains of Heartless. She had no idea how to fight, so she ran. Faster, faster, but her sandaled feet weren't used to running, wasn't strong enough—
"Please," she gasped out, begging the castle itself for help. The Darkballs were catching up, chattering behind her; two Defenders clanged their shields against the marble floor in a pounding rhythm that synchronized with her out-of-control heartbeat.
She ran towards the door at the far end of the room, pushing herself as hard as she could go. "I can't – I can't go back there – please…"
She slammed against the door, trying to force it open, but for the first time it stuck fast – no card had been inserted in its key slot. Dread rose in her chest.
"No! Please, I just want to find—" She flinched as a Darkball swooped towards her, "—I need to find somewhere safe! Please!"
To her surprise, the door swung open, and she tumbled inside. She kicked the door shut before thinking about anything else.
"I – I…" She stuttered, catching her breath in deep gasps. "Wh-where… am I?"
Translucent chains pulsed like a heartbeat down the walls and in the floor beneath her. Her eyes traced the pattern to the center of the room.
"…Wow," she breathed. In the center of the room, the pulsing chains fed into a large white throne, which had some sort of symbol embossed on the back, the same symbol that floated on the walls, drained down into the chains. It wasn't the Organization symbol, though. She thought the Organization controlled everything… had the castle taken her somewhere safe, a place the Organization hadn't touched?
The room was filled with soft silence, except for the echoing tiptoe of her footsteps that she timed with the glow of the chains. As she approached the throne, she was surprised to find she wasn't afraid of this unfamiliar place at all. Her caution was out of respect, reverence for the castle that had saved her.
The sound of steady breathing startled her. She momentarily held her breath, making sure the noise wasn't her own. It wasn't.
More nervous now, she peered around the throne. She caught her breath and ducked back – there was a boy there. For a moment she panicked, thinking the Organization had already caught her, but she peeked out again. His eyes were closed in sleep, and he wasn't wearing their black coat, either. His clothes were weird; his jacket wasn't white or black, but half of both. Her hand automatically reached out to touch it, but she stopped herself.
"Who are you…?" She whispered to the peaceful sleeper. "Were you born here too?"
His only response was to continue breathing. The quiet noise calmed her, but it didn't yield any answers.
"You're… not going to hurt me?" She wasn't sure if she meant it as a question or a statement. Seeing that unconscious, content smile… no one who rested that peacefully could be bad, right? Besides, in a way she couldn't explain, she could feel that he wouldn't wake anytime soon.
With one finger, she timidly poked his nose.
"Haha," she laughed a little. "You're kind of soft…" Nothing like Marluxia's hands, or Larxene's boots, or Axel's cold stares.
Without a second thought, she squeezed into the chair next to him. There was plenty of room; she just had to gently nudge him to one side. He didn't murmur in his sleep, didn't even let out a snore.
"There." She smiled. Now… now what?
She still held her sketchbook, tucked under her left arm. It had been second nature to carry it with her when she fled. She'd never had a real person to sketch from before…
She only had one crayon, a yellow one, tucked into the spiral of her sketchbook. The last thing she had been coloring was the boy in red's yellow shoes. Oh well, a monochromatic sketch would be a good challenge too.
Adjusting her sketchbook in her lap, she flipped past several drawings of the boy in red and set to work laying out the sleeper's blonde spikes on the paper. They swooped upwards and to the side, like they had a mind of their own. She liked that; it was pretty.
"So how did someone like you get stuck in here?" She spoke more to the sleeper than she ever had in the presence of her "caretakers." Something about exercising her vocal chords in that otherwise-silent room felt invigorating, even if the boy couldn't reply.
"I've been here as long as I remember," she said while shading his face, outlining the edges of his jaw and nose. "The Organization has too. I don't know what they want me for yet, but Marluxia says I'm the 'key to getting the key.' I think it has to do with the boy I have visions about…" She flipped back a page, showing the sleeper a picture of the red-clothed boy swimming in the ocean. Then she went back to coloring her new drawing subject's ear. "Anyway, I know they're not allowed to hurt me too much. Well, they do hurt me, especially Larxene, she's just not allowed to 'break' me…" Naminé sighed, frowning at where she'd colored outside the line of the boy's ear. "She scares me. That's why I ran away. And that's how I found you."
She smiled again. The sleeper kept breathing peacefully; she could feel his chest rise and fall.
"I know you can't talk to me, but thanks for listening anyway."
To her surprise, his head softly dropped onto her shoulder. His expression and breathing pattern didn't change; he just rested on her, like she was his new pillow.
"…Alright." She laughed a little, closing her sketchbook on her finished drawing. "I guess you like me."
She half-expected a reply at that, but wasn't surprised to be answered with silence.
"Oh. My name's Naminé, by the way," she felt like she should tell him. In case he did wake up someday, and wanted to find her… it was silly, but the thought made perfect sense in her mind.
She yawned deeply. "Oh… I think you're making me sleepy too. I should…"
I should go, she thought. But she wasn't ready to keep trying to escape, and she wasn't ready to turn herself over to Larxene's fury.
"I guess this is a good place for a nap." She smiled, resting her head on the boy's mane of soft spikes.
Deep down, she knew she wouldn't find a way out of the castle. Larxene and Marluxia and Axel would punish her when they found her. But for now, she let that slide from her mind. For now, she had found a sanctuary.
It must have been a dream, but as she drifted in sleep, she could have sworn she heard a boy's voice…
"Nice to meet you, Naminé. You can call me Ven!"