Hello all! This fic was very fun to write for me, because it's so unrealistic and surreal, you might say. It was inspired by a a scene from KH Re:CoM cosplay musical by the Tsuki no Senshi cosplay group. (The link is on my profile if you wish to know more.) The first scene in this fic comes directly from the game script, the rest inspired by the musical.

Rating: K+

Implied Pairings: Namine/Repliku. MaruNami if you squint.

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts Re: Chain of Memories belongs to Disney and Square Enix. "Kingdom Hearts- Chain of Memories- The Musical" belongs to TnS. I own NOTHING but my writings.

Please enjoy!

"Relax, kiddo. I don't think its going to hurt…that much." Larxene, the mastermind behind Vexen's puppet's current anger, finished her statement with a little giggle.

"I'll hurt YOU!"

The sound of Soul Eater being summoned in Riku Replica's hand was heard, and said replica sprinted forward on Castle Oblivion's pristine floors, all his anger and hate charged on Larxene. Not Vexen, his maker. Not Axel, the bystander. Not even Naminé, the one who would be remaking his heart, changing it to be like the real Riku's. Riku Replica wouldn't stand for it! He wouldn't be tossed around like a child's toy, made into a coward—

"Gyaah!" The replica shrieked when he weapon struck Larxene, as lighting electrocuted his body, spreading into his veins and setting them aflame. The force of the electricity sent him sprawling face first onto the ground, his head narrowly missing the wall. Trying to stand, he cringed at Larxene's evil, high-pitched giggle.

"Ahahahaha! Stupid little toy! Think you could defeat me? Where would you ever get a thought like that?"

Riku Replica rolled over to look upward at Larxene. The malice in the air around her seeped into his heart and made him shiver. Afraid she would strike out as she came closer slowly, he gingerly held up an arm to his face. He'd done the math; fighting back now would make it even worse for him.

"But, look on the bright side – along with everything else in your head…" The Savage Nymph gave a furtive glance at the memory witch to her left, who had a hand over her mouth in shock,"… Naminé will erase the memory of me knocking you flat."

Larxene came closer, faster this time. Riku Replica scooted back just as fast, eyes wide, trying to keep a distance between them. But this proved futile, because soon he was against the wall and Larxene meters away from him.

"Instead," she continued, "she will implant the loveliest little memories you could ever hope for!... It's no big deal that they're all lies." A very creepy smile turned up on her face, as she inched even closer, leaving the replica defenseless against her approach.

Left and right he glanced, trying to find a way out, but Riku Replica knew Larxene would catch him. Though his breath caught in his throat from fear, he managed to choke out a hoarse, "No…"

Her hand reached out toward him, nearing closer and closer… the replica covered his face with his arm, knowing this was it. His fight was over.

"NOOO!"

Riku Replica was vaguely aware of his surroundings when he awakened next. The dark, inky blackness covered everything… if things even existed in this world. The surface he lay on was hard, cold, creating a numbness that made his thought process sluggish. Wanting to know where he was, he managed to lift himself to his knees for a brief second, only to fall back flat moments later. It was as if all the strength had been sucked from his body, his mind… but not his heart. He could still feel that pulsating light, burrowed deep under darkness, but still there.

He laid there for what seemed like hours in that stationary position, his left side against the surface, his legs and arms at a odd angle, so it came as a surprise to him when he – no, someone else – made him rise back to his knees, his head and arms dangling. His arms jerked at a 90-degree angle by his elbow, his head snapped to face forward. Not of his own accord, the silverette's head moved up, down, left, right, before being roughly dropped to his original kneeling position. He couldn't feel a single person touching him, making his move this way… it was as if he was held by invisible strings.

Was he really what the Organization said he was, then…?

Nothing but a puppet.

Riku Replica heard the voice, closing his eyes in surrender, but paid no heed to its sound. It could be his own, after all…

Naminé bit her lip as she pulled at the strings of Riku Replica's body, jerking his arm up, moving his leg this way and that. It was difficult, to her, to get used to being the puppeteer, not the puppet. She'd always been the one being yanked in the Organization's direction of wants and needs, so now, it felt… – as she tried to think of a word, she crossed one arm over the other, watching Riku Replica's motions mirror hers - …good to have all the power. But she was only stalling by toying with the replica's limbs; she was supposed to meld his heart, form it so that his memories reflected the real Riku's, thus reflecting Sora's false memories. But Naminé just couldn't. Her non-existent heart told her that Riku Replica just wanted a sense of belonging… much like her. But if she failed to do as she was told – Naminé spread apart her arms—then he would…

Naminé! You insolent girl! Cease your holding back!

… then Marluxia would scold her, take away her limited power. Dropping her arms, she turned around slowly, seeing the Graceful Assassin linger over her with a furious scowl on his face.

M-Marluxia… Marluxia, I didn't—

Silence! , he ordered, as Naminé felt her body go limp as he pulled at her puppet strings, lifting her arms at that odd angle like she did Riku Replica's, only higher so that the half-unconscious shadow of Riku would stand.

If you're not going to do this right, I'll do it myself!

And Marluxia tugged at her strings again as Naminé took a tighter hold on the replica's. She regretted this, however, because that sent them sprawling back on unsteady feet. Naminé righted herself quickly, however, but the replica didn't, and the force of his weight against her chest might have knocked her down had not her malevolent puppet master been holding to her strings.

She stared down at Riku Replica's pristine face as her arms moved to accommodate him in her caress. Her right arm gripped his back, her left lay wilted at her side. Even in his sleep-like stupor, he was still a wonderful person – she could see it on his face. She didn't want to change him. That would change the hope that emanated from him, the longing to be someone…

You're not Riku, she thought, and I'm sorry you have to become him.

And her once limp hand moved to his chest at Marluxia's will, her nimble fingers clinging to it like a magnet. His heart struggled against her touch at first, but then relented, its light forming around her hand. The replica gave an audible gasp and his eyes snapped open – whether from pain or shock she couldn't tell – as she streamed the fake memories from her head, through her arm, to his heart. Marluxia's chuckle was obviously proud in her ears.

Her grip released slightly, and then tightened. Release his heart. Implant more memories. Grab his heart. The process was tedious, but soon Naminé had finished. A groan escaped the replica's lips as he slipped from her arms, fully comatose now, and landed in his kneeling position.

Naminé blinked, feeling Marluxia's strong grip loosen slightly. Her hands shook from the reforming of the replica's heart, though they trembled with trepidation, not fatigue. She'd made a possibly irreversible change on his heart. Tears rolled down her cheeks, warm and glistening, and fell into the silverette's hair. Maybe they were right - destruction of memories was all she was good at. She couldn't even understand the full extent of her power yet, and she felt truly angry at herself for letting Marluxia use her again with a limited knowledge of just how far she had pushed herself. Naminé wanted to be stronger, to not be a marionette anymore… but how? Pressing her hands to her mouth, she let the flow of degrading emotions come.

I'll never forgive myself for this.

The pink-haired Nobody scoffed at Naminé's pitiful reaction to her powers upon the replica. He'd let her strings loose for a mere second, and the reaction he got was tears? This little doll was even worse than the replica. At least it could learn not to have an emotional breakdown every time something didn't go its way.

His hold tightened on her threads again, causing the witch to give a little whimper of surprise. She sounded self-pitying, distraught even. Marluxia didn't have all day. Now that she was complete with her work, it was time for him to get on with his own plan – pursuing the Keyblade master.

Another second passed and Naminé still had not picked up the replica's strings. With a sigh, Marluxia reached down himself and lifted the tender cords, bringing the male puppet to a stiff upright position. A small smile crept onto the Assassin's face.

Let's have some fun with this.

He maneuvered the strings, so quickly, so effortlessly; it was as if he had been the master all his life. His two precious puppets whipped around to face him, and he spread his arms, bidding them to walk forward. Rigidly, they did as ordered, the blond one whimpering while the other – who had woken from his coma - stared blankly ahead, his eyes dull. He dropped his arms at just the right moment, leaving the two in a subordinate kneeling position, side by side, heads bowed.

So this is how it feels to truly be Lord of the Castle, he thought wickedly. Naminé and the Riku Replica were almost like his royal subjects – they had no say or do in anything as long as he ruled. These two would get him to the Keyblade Master and soon the Organization would be his – even if he had to fight tooth and nail to get what he wanted.

You two are pawns in this game of power. You will do as I say. But Naminé…

The girl looked up at him, her face still streaked with long ago tears.

Yes?

You have so much to give. Your power is unmatched by any other, and yet you choose not to use it with pride. You could be the puppet master all the time if you would face your gift. As the girl bowed her head in shame, he finished his thought, but only to himself –

The link is simple: Naminé is the puppeteer and the replica is the puppet. But that doesn't mean I can't be the one pulling the strings.

So, was it good? Bad? Horrible? The best thing ever? Please tell me in your review!