Eraser
Her movements were strong, confident, and quick, her hand moved up and down in a smooth, sweeping motions as she watched him, her eyes never leaving his face. He looked so content as he slept there- really, he was the only one she knew who could be running around in circles like a crazed chocobo one minute, then fall flat on his back and be dead to the world the next. She smiled to herself, remembering childhood adventures and explorations that inevitably ended up with her talking with Riku as Sora snored on the sand below. Only the innocent could sleep so soundly– not that Sora was innocent, far from it, but he never lost that childish glee and cheerfulness that made everyone who met him love him. Not carefree, either; content. He was content. That was why he could sleep easily into the afternoon.
She paused her movements as she thought that, sighed, and began again. She took in those ridiculously spikey brown locks as they bobbed up and down in the ocean breeze, tickling his nose and falling across his cheeks. Though he lay in the shade, he was still in his usual black attire- a slight change from his old blazingly red and childish outfit from before. She wondered if she should wake him to get him to move, but he looked so content, and really, what was the harm in it? If he got too hot, he'd wake up and reposition himself, or spring back to life with renewed vigor and demand ice cream, like he always did. Well, since he got back, anyway. Her hand faltered in its movements, though the change was slight. His hair was noticeably lighter than before as well- was He to blame for that? Then again, it was always possible that his hair was just lightening with age. That happened sometimes, right?
But sometimes... she just couldn't tell if it was really Sora anymore. She'd look up and he'd be staring off into space, a pensive look creasing his brow and making him look sulky. Sometimes he'd stand in such a way that the sun would bleach his hair in its light, and the wind would choose that same moment to sweep those wayward bangs upward and back. She'd be looking at Him again, and she would find her breath catching in her throat, waiting for the moment to pass, and yet wondering if it would last forever.
Of course, he'd snap out of it, the sun would move, the wind die down and the moment would be lost as he turned to beam back at her. He'd give her that goofy grin and scratch the back of his head, apologizing for zoning out on her again. Of course she'd giggle and call him a goof, but after they parted ways she would always run home and look through her book. Sketches of Him and the Others too- everything that happened that could shatter the happiness that was finally returning to their peaceful island life. After days like that, she'd pick up her pencil and start to draw- the best way to make sure you would remember something would be to get them down on paper, right?
At first, she hadn't wanted to do it. She vowed never to pick up a pencil again, knowing the terrible power she possessed, knowing what sad things had happened because of it. She was whole again, the other now diminished back into herself, but how many times had she looked in the mirror and seen Her? She wondered if Sora ever saw Him when he looked in the mirror– wondered if he ever saw Her instead of her. She tried telling herself to stop being silly, and that she would always be herself. Nothing- and nobody- could change that.
But then there was that night he had come to her, that night when she'd been sitting on the beach and thinking about Her and Him and all that had happened. He'd come and told her about the horrible dreams he'd been having. Dreams about the shadows enveloping him and his losing control of himself, the battles he'd fought and all the sorrow he had seen. About those who had been lost to the darkness, and friends he met only to lose at the end of his journey. But mostly, what scared him most was when he woke up after dreams about Him; dreams of His "life", His actions, His thoughts and memories combining with his own until he couldn't tell where he started and where He began, and if he was really himself or both of them. He was afraid of losing himself to Himself, or, even worse, to the darkness that promised the sweet embrace of nothingness.
When she asked him why he'd come to her, and not to Riku, who undoubtedly had more experience with darkness than herself, he simply looked at her.
"But you know what it's like to lose yourself in you," he said simply, and she did.
She had hugged him, promised him everything would be alright, and that things would get better in time. And he believed her, because when had she ever lied to him? And they did– gradually, of course, but they did, because she hadn't lied to him. Those dark circles under his eyes started to fade, and some of his old joviality began to resurface. He began to act like himself again– except, of course when he was acting like Him. She increased the speed of her hand.
"Scribbling as usual, I see."
She jumped, slapping the sketchbook shut as Riku materialized from behind a palm tree, his shoes silent in the soft sand. She stared up at him, not sure what to do, and Riku, for his part, said nothing. She didn't know about him– she suspected that he suspected, but he hadn't said anything and she wasn't going to either, so their silent truce hung in the suddenly heavy air. She forced herself to breathe, not sure if he'd finally call her on it– he didn't look like he knew either, though he did begin to open his mouth to say something. What he was going to say, however, was lost when Sora decided that he was going to wake up.
"Ahh, nothing like an afternoon nap to clear the mind!" He grinned as he saw the two of them. The atmosphere immediately brightened, and any shadow of what might have been said was swept away. Riku smirked and walked towards the younger boy.
"You'd better watch out, or you won't have anything left in there to clear" he said, helping the other up. Sora scowled, sticking his tongue out at the other boy,
"Nyah, it's because you don't fully appreciate the benefits of a restorative nap that you're always cranky! Right?" He turned to her, making her jump, but she smiled and giggled at his joke. His smile grew, though he tried to look suspicious.
"What were you two doing before I opened my eyes, huh? Riku?" The silver haired boy snorted and looked away, leaving Sora to turn to her. She grinned again, and reached forward to tug on a spiked bang.
"I was wondering what you were using to lighten your hair," she giggled. "At this rate, you'll be as blonde as Tidus by the end of vacation." He frowned, straightening the abused lock of hair.
"Aww, you know I don't do anything! It must be the sun or something, or maybe all that clorine from the Blitzball practice Wakka and Tidus have dragged me into." She grinned as he pouted, though her smile faltered slightly when Riku spoke up again.
"We could say the same about you, you know. I don't remember your hair ever being quite that color before." He emphasized the that, looking pointedly at her. She blanched, though didn't look away, and again, there seemed another tense moment on the threshold of confrontation– only to be interrupted by the growl of Sora's stomach.
"Man," he laughed, "all that sleeping worked up an appetite! Let's go get ice cream!" he brushed off the remaining sand from his pants and headed towards the docks with a light bounce in his steps. She wondered if it was the nap that had renewed his vigor, or the prospect of more sugar. Sora and sugar... Well, it could be an overwhelming experience. The only scarier thing was Sora without sugar. Riku seemed to think the same thought, shuddering as he watched their friend bounding towards the boats. He began to follow the brunette, but not without sending a look back to her.
She didn't smile, but stood and brushed the sand off her skirt. Sora looked up at her expectantly from the seat of his boat, holding it steady against the dock.
"If you want me to row you back over, I can come by again later for your boat," he said, a slight inflection of hope in his voice. At that, she did smile, but shook her head, stepping back to allow Riku to unmoor his own boat. The silver-haired youth gave her that look again, but she ignored him, waving them off enthusiastically.
"No ice cream for me today, thanks!" she grinned at the boy. "I'm going to sit out here and draw a little more before I head home. There's... a picture I want to finish." Sora seemed disappointed, but he beamed back at her all the same.
"Well, I'll eat two then, to make up for what you're missing out on." She laughed at his foolish logic, and waved him off as he heaved into the deeper water. She watched him go, her attention completely on him. That was why Riku startled her again.
"Hey," he said, and she jumped, turning to look at him. His blue eyes were intent and his expression blank, but she shivered just the same. She'd seen him with an expression like that, once before... at Castle Oblivion.
"Don't over-do it. Even if something is unpleasant, that doesn't mean it's bad." She looked at him, really looked at him, and nodded, once.
"I know."
He stared one more minute, then turned, rowing away to catch up with their quickly disappearing friend. She watched the two of them go, then sat down upon the dock, dipping her feet into the water. She opened up her sketchbook again, and looked down at the half-finished image.
Roxas sat laughing with his friends, Hayner, Pence and Olette on top of the clock tower in Twilight Town, each holding a sea salt ice cream. The group had been enjoying one of their few remaining days of summer vacation, and the group had been particularly chummy that day. She stared at the picture for a moment, then gently tore it out of her book. Carefully folding the picture in half, she tapped it a few times against the book before reopening the paper. The image she'd sketched so furiously was gone, returned to where it had come.
"A few bittersweet pieces aren't so bad" she said to nobody in particular, "I guess that's what you would've wanted anyway, isn't it Roxas? Salty, but sweet, your favorite flavor."
The ocean breeze held no reply, just the laughing of waves and the scramble of seagulls on the shore. She flipped through the book, pulling out pages and giving some the same treatment as the first. One by one, images sunk back into Sora's memories. Others she put aside, holding those for another time to return, perhaps in a dream or some other subtle way. There were some she kept though, some memories she never wanted Sora to have to face again.
And then there was the one she kept for last, that final sketch that she had drawn that night when memories of nobodies haunted Sora's every thought, and she didn't want him to have to remember any of them, good or bad. She looked at the picture now, guilty that she had taken so precious a memory away. Appropriate then, for her to return this one at this time, the last memory to be returned for some time to come. She smiled down at the two figures in the image.
Axel and Roxas sat content on sunset hill, staring out over the wide horizon at the ever setting sun. In their hands were ice cream bars, the first time Roxas had ever tried the flavor. The first time that Axel had ever willingly lied to his best friend. She sighed, folding it and tapping it thoughtfully against her chin.
"Another bittersweet memory, huh Roxas? Salty, but sweet." She closed her eyes, releasing another deep breath.
"I'm sorry I took this one from you. Forgive me, for taking such a dear moments away. I hope you'll understand that I did it for Sora." She tapped the picture against the book, shaking the pigment away.
"This one, though, I did for you." And she knew He would understand. He always would.
She'd return them all, of course, when she thought he could handle it, or when He would be able to take the slack where Sora had stumbled. For now, though... she finished tapping the memory back into Sora's heart, and put her book and the loose pages away. There would be time for them again later. But for now... now, she'd just watch the sea.
owari
AN- well, that was fun, in a trippy "WTF is going on??" kind of way. :D
So, who do you think it was, Namine, or Kairi? For fun times, read the fic once with Kairi in mind, then go back and reread it as Namine. Or, you know, don't, but say you did in the review :D It could be either or. Did I write it with one or the other in mind? I'll never say... Anyway, this is kind of a post-21 fic, referring to one of the stories I plan to write as soon as I get the inspiration to do so again. In the meantime, though, let me know what you think, k?
Thanks SLS
