Solace:
I.
Naminé.
AU. Naminé, a broken artist with a faulty heart. Roxas, a weary photographer looking for his purpose in life. Two hearts burdened by the expectations of others find solace tumbling in the darkness of each other's hearts.
"I see you."
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Rejection.
It was a simple world.
But such an intense conviction.
"Aoiki residence? Twilight Town Bankers speaking about the loan your mother took out on this day of the year..."
"Destiny Islands Center of the Arts. It was listed in your transcript papers that your withdrawal is in progress, pending the results of having been excused..."
"Miss Aoiki? We regret to inform you about your most recent physical..."
It had filled the years of her life.
Naminé Aoiki wasn't sure how many more rejections she could really endure.
She was twenty-two and already she felt like she had lived a life heavy with turmoil.
Growing up in the small area of Twilight Town with her mother had always been an easy life. She went to Twilight Academy, had graduated with high honors, and had left to her father's hometown of Destiny Islands to fulfill her adult dream of being this famous artist.
But.
Having parents who were separated, and a dream that seemed quite frankly impossible to obtain - that left her with limited options.
Limited choices.
A fate that was already predetermined once she had made the choice to try and make a life for herself. A life away from her mothers' decrepit Inn. A life away from her father's meddling that she do something more with her life besides draw. A life away from the struggles she herself faced.
A constant internal battle with her own heart.
She had known from a young age that her heart wasn't like others. It was this faulty little thing. Her brother Demyx always joked that it was like that faulty pipe in a sink that refused to act right, not wanting to be fixed.
Her heart was like their kitchen sink. Permanently bandaged with no real outcome of ever being able to be fully repaired.
It wasn't as though she hadn't been confined to a hospital bed with no chance of seeing the outside life.
Her life had been normal.
But.
Of course that had all changed when she had actually grown up.
When her brother Demyx had gone off to college first and came home and showed her that there was this huge world beyond their hometown of Twilight Town.
Demyx had always been fascinated with the mechanizations of water. He loved the ocean. Anything really that was in cahoots with a source of water.
So he had left home when she was eighteen to become a scuba diver off on the shores of Destiny Islands.
Destiny Islands.
It was this huge bustling island that brought in people from the local neighboring beach town, and also revenue from the huge city that was mere minutes away.
It was the place their father had run off too after he had left their mother.
Their mother who had worked hard to convert her once shabby Old Mansion home where she had fallen in love with their father, into this Inn she had always wanted.
When Naminé herself had turned ninteen she had, with the encouragement of her mother, gone to Destiny Islands to enroll in the farther city's arts program.
Destiny Island's Center for the Arts.
Her father had been against it from the start.
He had always been the one to dampen things. A constant stormy forboding cloud.
He had allowed her to stay with him however for the duration of her studies, she had at first thought because he was concerned.
It was always about the money though.
A way to cut down on the costs.
He had already had to scrounge for payments because her heart medication was so costly.
And when Demyx had left home, he had disowned his son. Saying if he wanted to go and play in the ocean all day he needed to find his own way to make money.
Their mother tried really hard to sway his opinion. But Naminé had always known that his opinion of the world and their entire family had changed when she was born.
She was this defected baby.
A baby that her father hadn't even wanted.
She had stayed on Destiny Islands for about three years.
Three long years of studying art, of progressing farther than she had in her shabby but quaint high school she was too talented for.
But of course with a life that she had fought so hard to get, there were always setbacks.
That lingering taint of rejection.
She had just finished one of her art exams. An important exam that would determine whether she passed or failed this entire course. An exam that determined her ultimate future. On whether or not she could be enrolled after into an even more prestigious program, helping real artists make work. And eventually creating her own.
That was the day her heart had decided to stutter.
She could remember that fresh night ocean air breeze, brisk against her cheeks.
Filling her with the memories of her brothers scent as he ruffled the top of her head. The memory of her mother making the two of them steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the days when their Old Mansion's roof had caved in and they huddle for warmth among mounds of blankets.
And all of a sudden her chest felt tight.
She couldn't breathe.
And of course, when she had needed her father the most, they couldn't get in contact with him.
He had had the nerve to tell her at the hospital later that night, that it was because all along he had wanted her to realize that she needed to know she couldn't make these decisions about her life so foolheartedly, when her heart was always in question.
He had never wanted her to come here.
To fulfill her dreams.
To become an artist.
She was too frail. Too weak. Too much of a burden.
So she had done what she knew was her only option. She had run back home away from him, to the only place she knew she would never have to see him - Twilight Town.
To escape the exam she had failed. Failed because her heart had failed on her.
' ' '
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
Demyx was staring up at her with a sheepish grin on his face. His arms full with a rusty old yellow toolbox.
His jade eyes were staring up at her, blinking away the two pieces of hair that always seemed to want to fall from his mohawk into the line of his gaze.
Naminé stood precariously up on a wobbly step ladder.
Her arms reached above her head, trying to jab a screwdriver into this tiny screw that was refusing to budge on the chandelier affixed to the ceiling.
"No...," Came her hesitant answer as she struggled to glance down at him, "But this might fall on someone."
Bright hair, such a light shade of ashy blonde that it almost seemed silver in the sunlight, was bunched in a haphazard bun on the top of her head.
Bangs framed each side of her cheekbones, and a particular long few strands hung down the bridge of her nose.
Arctic stone eyes blinked in exhaustion.
It had been a few days of this, of the two of them trying to make haphazard hasty repairs. She had been home for a few months after her incident in Destiny Islands.
She had come home to open up a flower shop in town. Perched right beside the infamous clock tower. Along with returning to help with her mother's struggling payments to refrom their once childhood home, this cranky Old Mansion into this beautiful Inn their mother had always dreamed of owning.
It was daunting.
She had hoped the flower shop would bring in more revenue - and it had.
Yet.
She was tired. Her heart was always trying to scare her.
It was part of the reason why Demyx had come home too. Well. He had always known their mother was in turmoil. So he had saved up a lot of money working on Destiny Islands and had come home to help with the repairs.
Their mother had said that along with another man they had found in an add pasted along the cobblestone walls of the town square, Demyx was trying to help with the reforming.
The Inn had placed many business repairs over the years. But she couldn't really afford to pay anyone a sustainable amount, so there weren't many, if at all any, offers to help.
Naminé admired her mother immensely.
She was this broken hearted woman who had gotten back up on her own two feet after the only man she had given her whole heart and soul too had departed.
She had turned their home filled with memories of their love and laughter into something she had always wanted for herself.
Though she knew age was creeping up on her.
She could already see the telltale signs of dark spots of gray in her flaxen head of her eyes. Her eyes, although so warm and golden were always shadowed with exhaustion.
Her life had been built with this man she had wanted to give everything to. Filled with two kids who tried so hard to make something of themselves.
But they all were over-casted with a man who had broken.
Over her.
Wiping sweat from her forehead with the hem of her off the shoulder white sleeve, she sighed softly at the concern in her brother's gaze.
"Demyx. Go take a break."
"Why don't you go take a break. Don't you need to go open your store?"
"Shoot."
Naminé hurried to scurry off the ladder, tossing the screwdriver against Demyx's chest " - Oof!", and rushing towards her bedroom.
It was on the second floor.
A huge bay window was pasted against the farthest wall when one walked through the door. A sheer white lace curtain covering the panes of glass.
The walls were a soft pale yellow.
White stained hardwood floor.
Her room was very bare.
A square white table was in the center, two white chairs with green cushions on opposite ends. It was where she sat and just had drawn her life away.
On the center of the table was a vase of white daffodils.
A white cabinet was on the far right wall, more flower vases perched on the top of the surface. A huge white oval glass chandelier was on her ceiling, four hanging bulbs dangling on each side.
Her room was just plastered on all the walls with drawings. Drawings from all her life. It was like an open catalogue of memories.
A tiny white futon was on the far right corner of her room. Where she had curled up most nights and fallen asleep reading novels under the light of a flashlight.
She had missed her room.
Her mother hadn't changed it one bit and it had refreshed her to know she hadn't. This had been her place to hide from the things that had always bothered her.
Naminé rushed to pull on her pale light green work tee-shirt. Hastily braiding her strands of hair into a haphazard long braid that fell over her right shoulder.
She fastened her brown apron over her shirt, and stuffed the excess fabric into her form fitting light blue jeans. Her mismatched white and gray socks were peeping out of her nonslip gray shoes.
A soft sigh slipped past her lips once more.
It seemed she never could get herself together.
Slinging a gray messenger bag over her shoulders she rushed out of her house towards the one place she never had to pretend to prove anything to.
Her flower shop.
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She had opened the shop when she had come back home.
The ultimate reality was that she needed a job.
A place to collect herself.
She had always admired flowers. For their resilenicy. Their capability to grow in the harshest conditions, to endure the most difficult hardships.
She had always wanted to be like a flower.
Beautiful. Strong.
It brought a bitter smile to her face.
Her fingertips, nail tips glossed over with a clear polish, lovingly glazed over her inventory. A pencil was tucked behind one of her ears. A clipboard clutched close against her chest.
Work had been slow going.
It usually was.
Twilight Town always tended to be more uproarious in the sweltering summers. When the Struggle tournaments they were famous for were going on. When the old movies festivals the local Bistro owner put on.
She loved Twilight Town in the summer.
However.
At the moment, autumn was already in full force.
Crisp leaves always fluttering to the ground.
Chilling winds that ruffled the hairs on the back of one's neck.
Her store was small. A one story building located near the clock tower. A clock tower where she often had spent most of her nights.
She would let her feet dangle off the edge as she sketched beneath the stars.
The front of the store was this huge window with criss crossed panes. On each sill was a different hand crafted vase from local businesses. Each one depicted some kind of image from other stores. And in each vase were those beautiful flowers.
She changed them out frequently. Never letting one die in those vases. It was how she collected foot traffic. There was always something against the glass to catch somebody's eye.
Too busy humming quietly to her self and debating what vases to interchange for the next day, she blinked in a haze when her front door chimed.
The counter was against the back wall. A tiny tan door led to a storage unit where behind that, outside, was a tiny greenhouse. She kept a garden out there.
Footsteps pressed against the tiled gray floors. Little sunpetals speckled on each floor tile.
She glanced up and her heart trickled as though a little bell was clamoring around inside the depths of her heart cavity.
"Kairi?" She was staring up into warm violet-azure eyes.
A small smile was affixed on her childhood friend's face, "So when can I start?"
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I don't own Kingdom Hearts.
Holy heck.
i've forgotten how much I loved this universe. But after waiting for YEARS for the newest addition to the Kingdom Hearts collection I was able to fall in love all over again with these games.
With Naminé. And especially Roxas.
So hello, Kingdom Hearts, fandom! I hope this prologue of sorts piqued your interest for this story has a lot in store.
Hope you enjoyed (:
- Ink Kissed.