When the Organization provided no answers Roxas left. He wanted something solid for once. Ground beneath his feet. He couldn't stare at nothing all day and never know anything about everything. So he left.
It shouldn't have felt like breaking.
He had liked his friends, when he thought he had them. Fate and destiny are the same things, really – Roxas thinks that real people use them to describe some kind of subtle difference but when you aren't handed a choice you take what you get.
He isn't a real person. He still doesn't know anything – can't find the words to speak the hate out of a heart that doesn't belong to him. The people he sees beneath his eyelids aren't his, yet he can feel them; they are burrowing into his chest and filling the hollow places found there.
None of the people he would have called his own – not a single one of them – had been real. Why fight?
But…he wants to stay. He wants to stay. Somewhere, anywhere.
Don't signal now.
Sora is very glad he feels so calm because he is losing his mind. Or maybe it was already lost, going, going, gone, stardust. He thinks he needs to get out of this place, wherever it is.
He feels like he's being put together piece by piece.
It's just too hard to hold on to anything here. Whenever he tries to reach out his arms remain locked at his side and memories flow like sand through his fingers. He doesn't know why he's even holding sand in the first place. Lost, lost, lost.
He is flying though stars, through skies, through water and glass. But everything is so dark. He is falling straight down and sideways to nowhere, no way out. Faces flash before him, over and over and over again. Sora's chest aches but his throat won't make the sounds he wants.
It doesn't matter, though. Everything's okay. Except for that missing…thing. He needs to find that. Sora's hands inch forward, reaching and reaching, but he hits glass and smells flowers, sickly sweet. He shudders back, unrestful.
I can't stay much longer.