A/N: Mm… I really don't like this. Then again, I never really like anything I write. But I'll chance putting it up here anyway.

A warning, though, this is my very FIRST fanfic, and of my favorite pairing in the entire KH universe.


It's like falling in love with your reflection…

You know it's wrong, that it's strange and even narcissistic. You just don't care. Why care when you know she's so beautiful, when you know she looks at you with those cerulean eyes and thinks the same.

(I'm falling and falling hard.)

It's a silly wish, a foolish little inkling that has you gazing day after day into the mirror, hoping beyond hope that your reflection will show. Not the kind most would expect, not a natural type of reflection.

Your other. Your twin.

You find yourself desperately touching the glass, milky skin cool against the surface, a wistful desire to see her no matter what tugging at your heart. You wait and you wait, and still nothing shows.

Just the same old reddish-brown hair, same sun kissed skin, same sullen blue optics staring back at you. You want to cry, you want to scream. Why doesn't she show? She was once there, you remember, back when you were younger. When the foolish you was in existence.

Before you understood love and what happiness it could bring. Before either of you knew it…


You recall the simple days when you and the boys would play around. At the beach, in the park, at your house. Most times it was just Riku and Sora goofing off, fooling around like the little hard headed children they were. You'd always sit back and watch them play in the end, a sort of longing taking over.

You could see their connection, their relationship and how much deeper it grew with each passing day. Why couldn't you find someone like that? Someone to speak with in such a free fashion, someone to hold you when you were down or to brighten up your day? Why couldn't you have someone to goof off with when the boys were away, someone who understood what it was like being a country girl in the big vicinity of Twilight Town?

Why couldn't you have someone to love?

It was that very thought that drove you to tears one day, when your favorite brunette and platinum haired teens finally announced their feelings for each other, finally acknowledged that there was a connection between the two of them.

You were happy for them, really…

But you were jealous too.

For the longest time you'd always thought that, maybe, you had felt something for either one of them but it wasn't so. Sora and Riku would always, always, always be just friends. Just friends, just friends.

So what was it then? What was missing?

Then came that day… The day she showed up, like a fallen angel.

It just happened one day, when you were sitting around in your room, slumped down on your bed in a tired fashion. The old fashioned, life sized mirror staring you in the face.

You just started talking, tiredly, tears slipping freely down your face about how lonely, lonely, lonely you were getting, how the boys were spending more and more time together while you stayed home. About how sick and tired you were of not having anyone, anyone at all, to tell these things.

At first you thought it was your eyes playing tricks on you, but sure enough she appeared.

A simply dressed girl with a small frame, similar to your own. The face, the mouth, those eyes and that nose—just about everything's the same.

Though you find her golden hair something to die for, pale and luscious in every way, and her eyes seem much, much, much more bluer, far more hopeful then yours ever were. She's dressed in a simple white garment, the gown hugging every small curve on her paled body.

An angelic, beautiful, and lovely reflection.

And you talk, and you talk, and you keep on talking to her, as if she were real, as if she were there, and she just listens and listens.

And, maybe, you think you've found a friend.

An imaginary one, but a friend no less.


And the simple days of childish hopes and dreams fade into mature wistfulness. Not a day goes by that you don't sit before your polished mirror and call out your reflection, speaking to her as if she were another individual.

Naminé, you call her, a beautiful name for someone described as such.

She sits when you sit, laughs when you laugh, cries when you cry, and so much more.

Most would find it scary how a mirror image moves on its own, speaks on its own, thinks on its own… She even draws for you, wonderful pictures. Pictures of birds and fish, of blossoms and lilies, of children and adults. Wonderfully blended hues of oranges and reds, yellows and greens, blues and purples.

She draws what you want to see, the world you dream of and a world she imagines so vividly. Often, you wonder what goes on in her head, what makes her tick and what she wishes for. You wonder if she has any friends, if she had anyone she felt she had feelings for.

Or maybe, you can't help but ponder, she's the one peering in at her own reflection.

It doesn't matter. So long as she's there.


Your innocent friendship is pushed further to something more, something you wish so much, so much, so much was real. Something closer, something more intimate.

You wake one morning, stepping up to the mirror with a bashful expression. Would she mind? Would she hate you for what you were about to do?

No, she's just my reflection, a figment of my imagination, your mind tells you. But your heart says otherwise.

Your heart tells you there's something more.

So you do the first thing that comes to mind when she shows, when her apparition finally flickers itself into view.

You press soft, ruby lips to the glass's surface, just where her own mouth would be. A chaste kiss. And, without warning, you find yourself silently crying, wishing she were real and that she were there, that she were a live human being with a heart and with a body, and with feelings like you. But you know, deep down, she'll always, always, always be a figment of your imagination.

Just a reflection.

A reflection you were falling in love with.


As the days go on, you find your life passing you by. Like you're stuck in time, stuck with childish dreams and hopes of loving someone who doesn't exist.

You're older now, just out of college and moving into a new home. Someplace close to friends, especially seeing as Sora and Riku plan on visiting you every now and again, so you don't get lonely. You know that they're trying to cheer you up, but…

You still feel like something's missing. Even though you've filled your house with mirrors and reflective glass left and right, enjoying the way they catch the light and reveal a copied image of yourself.

Every day you wake up and you look forward to peering into one, hoping to see her again, hoping she'll be there to talk to and to admire.

But, as the days go on, you find yourself seeing her less and less. Your imagination, your childish dreams, are fading more and more as you grow older, and you grow depressed because of that fact.

Is your love fading? No, that can't be it.

Just… What is it, then? Why does she not show? Why is your heart aching to see her smiling, blond face again? Even though she's not real…

It just isn't fair.

And you wonder, maybe, she doesn't love you any more. Maybe she finds this foolish charade wearing thin? It's scary, really, how dependent you've grown on her, how much you love seeing her—yourself.

And, always, always, always…you wish she were real.

But that's all it ever was. A wish. A silly, childish wish.


Loving yourself has never been so lonely.


- A n d T h a t I s A l l ? -