From the very hour of her existence, Naminé knew she was… different. She had no memories to call her own. She knew she was unique in that aspect, and that is what separated her from the rest of the other Nobodies: she was born from Kairi's heart when it left her and entered Sora's body, yet she held none of her memories. And yet, she was tied to Sora, entwined with his soul and mind. She knew each of his memories intimately despite not truly belonging to them. She was on the outside looking in, never meant to be. Her only purpose, her very destiny, was to sift through these memories and piece them together.
Sora was still out there, seeking out Kairi, blissfully unaware that she had lost her heart and that her heart now resided within him.
And she, Naminé, was locked away with his memories, confined to the pure white halls of Castle Oblivion. She was a flightless bird, trapped within a cage without a key. It was the only existence she'd ever known, unable to recall a past life of her own. It didn't trouble her unduly, but lately, she was unable to shake one of Sora's memories that occupied her waking thoughts and made her long for the past life she never had. A memory that grew increasingly strong as the month of December passed by her.
Naminé picked up her sketchbook and turned to one of her recent drawings. A wistful smile crossed her face as she lightly brushed her fingers over the page. She traced the outline of a Christmas tree, gazing at the shining lights and the bright, upturned faces of three overjoyed five-year-olds: Sora, Riku, and Kairi on Christmas morning in Destiny Islands, back in the days when they were still enchanted by the magic of Christmas.
She turned to a blank, crisp sheet of paper and, picking up a crayon, began to sing softly as she worked. Naminé may have been a caged bird, a nightingale locked away and unable to fly, but she was not without song.
"Where are you, Christmas? Why can't I find you?" Her clear, lilting voice filled the air, pure and true, as she began sketching anew with broad, sweeping strokes of color. "Why have you gone away? Where is the laughter you used to bring me? Why can't I hear music play?"
She wasn't able to discern where the words came from, if they originated from within herself or if they were drawn from Sora's recollections. Nevertheless, they came effortlessly, and she allowed the song to flow, humming along to the music within her head.
She wasn't prepared for the sudden rush of darkness opening in front of her and the crackle of electricity that heralded the unexpected arrival of the Organization's Number XII. She squeaked involuntarily, unable to prevent a frightened gasp escaping from her lips. Naminé held her sketchbook protectively to her chest as Larxene stepped out of the dark corridors, her heeled boots clacking on the cold, marble floor.
"Well, hello, Naminé," Larxene crooned, her usual impish smirk in place, but her expression soon changed when she processed the look on the smaller girl's face. She frowned. "Why do you always have to look like that every time I come see you?" she asked, placing a hand on her hip. "Do I really scare you all that much? You could at least smile every now and then. I don't bite, you know."
Naminé's tense shoulders relaxed somewhat, but she was still plainly on her guard. "Well, um, you just frightened me. And, and I never know what to expect when I see you," she managed, a slight stutter to her voice.
"Oh, please," Larxene scoffed. "Now, I know that you are naïve, and I like you that way, but even you can't be so dumb as all that. I mean, can it get any more obvious? All my surprise visits, all my reasons to drop in on you unnoticed, all my excuses to touch you any chance I get…"
Naminé's tense shoulders relaxed somewhat, but she was still plainly on her guard. "Well, um, you just frightened me. And, and I never know what to expect when I see you," she managed, a slight stutter to her voice.
"Oh, please," Larxene scoffed. "Now, I know that you are naïve, and I like you that way, but even you can't be so dumb as all that. I mean, can it get any more obvious? All my surprise visits, all my reasons to drop in on you unnoticed, all my excuses to touch you any chance I get…"
She couldn't help it; her eyes widened slightly as she stared at the taller blonde in front of her.
Larxene laughed, her voice high and sweet, at the expression on Naminé's face. "Oh, yes, I know you've noticed. My hand on your shoulder, my fingers on your chin, all blatant, pre-planned ways to simply come in physical contact with you." She knelt in front of Naminé's chair, reaching out her hand and tipping Naminé's chin up to force her to gaze directly in her eyes. "Just. Like. That," she sang.
She dropped her hand and stood up again, folding her arms as she stared at Naminé. "So, you see…" she said, as if it was plain as day, "Yes, cruel, cold-hearted Larxene does have feelings. For you, at least, little one. Now can you stop looking like I'm going to stab you with a kunai any second?"
"It's not that…" a stunned Naminé said slowly, putting down the sketch pad that she had unconsciously been using as a makeshift shield. "I just, I was surprised to see you appear out of nowhere because, um, I was working on something for you." A faint blush tinted her cheeks, but she was a little less nervous about exposing her vulnerabilities after Larxene's straightforward confession. Naminé took a deep breath and took the plunge, holding out her sketchpad. "I made you a Christmas gift, Larxene," she said, shyness tingeing her words.
Naminé may not have had a Christmas to call her own, but within the sanctuary of these white pages, she was able to create one. The still unfinished drawing featured a childlike Christmas tree as its centerpiece, with two figures that were unmistakably herself and Larxene beside it, bathed in the red and gold of the tree's lights.
For once in her life, both before and after losing her heart, Larxene was speechless. "It's not bad," she finally said once she managed to regain her voice, sitting down next to the smaller girl and taking the sketchbook from her to study the picture.
Naminé smiled, understanding that, from Larxene, this was one of the biggest compliments she could receive. And she was content with that. She let her head tip to the side so that it was resting on Larxene's shoulder, which was strangely comfortable.
Larxene glanced down at her and allowed a small smile to curl her own lips, but it was unlike the malicious, teasing smirks that so often crossed her face. It was almost… tender, if such a word could be applied to the Savage Nymph. "See? That wasn't so hard, now was it? A smile now and then never hurt."
Naminé murmured in agreement. Satisfied, Larxene brushed a lock of golden hair out of her eyes, but she still felt it crucial to warn, "Don't think this changes anything."
And although she never would have said so, a leather-gloved hand resting on a small, knobby knee told a different story.