The girl with blonde hair looked out of the window of her cell—room rather. For a cell, she supposed it was nice enough, with its luxurious bed, the sheets pressed and comfortably placed upon it like a second skin. She hadn't slept in it in days, and Marluxia was beginning to notice. The window she was looking out of overviewed the front lawn of the Manor. She didn't know who it belonged to, she wasn't sure it even mattered. But in the back of her mind, she often wondered what pour soul would build a mansion in the back country behind some trees that would mask the ingenuity of the house, the leaves that would blot out the sun and the wall that would block humanity. Society—gone, in that instant.
She turned away from the window and continued to fiddle with the rosary beads, taken off the anklet of someone that she used to know. All around her, posted upon the walls in every direction, were at least fifteen pictures she had drawn in the confines of her white room. The lifeless faces stared back at her, and the one that was most painful was the image of Sora sleeping soundly, in peace for the first time in a year. It was technically her fault, but the price of peace was too much for the young hero—ignorance.
She heard the footsteps and sat down, shoving the rosary beaded necklace away a moment before the door was pushed open, to reveal Diz standing there. A strange figure, to be sure, he stood tall—two meters even, with his face masked in red bandages and donning a strange red robe over his body. He was calm, consistent—exactly the sort of person Roxas would hate. He nodded to her, and she rose from her seat, following him down the hallway into the next room on the opposite wing—the library. While he worked at the puzzle, she thought of Roxas.
Everything that Sora was not—Roxas was. Impatient, unfriendly, quiet—ignorant. He didn't even know the world around him was fake. And she knew that in helping Sora regain his memories, the last piece of the puzzle would be Roxas—his Nobody, like her. He would need to give himself to Sora, give back the memories he took away. The floor illusion disappeared in a burst of light, and she followed him down the steps, careful to remain in his shadow, even when the lights in the dark hallways flickered on and off. As she walked, the entered the first chamber. To her left were dozens, if not hundreds of detailed facts and specifications on Sora's current state. She understood some of it, but Riku was often down here with her to help decipher the rest of the archaic digital language that printed Sora's life, his energy, his everything. To her right was Roxas, balled up, his mind transferred to the digital world beyond. One day, he would have to leave it, possibly forever.
The fact made her sad.
The entered the next chamber, an L-shaped hallway, and Namine avoided looking at the still-frozen figures of Sora's two best friends in the whole wide world. She avoided their gaze, as unassuming as they were. They had helped rescue her, and the fact made her sad that they would never remember who she was, much less helping her in a desolate Castle in the middle of nowhere. He led her into the white room where Sora was held, similar—though much brighter—to her own. She stood by his pod and saw through the oddly transparent casing where Sora was, bobbing up and down with his breathing.
Sora—he was friendly.
Diz watched her curiously.
Sora could make friends with anyone, and at the same time, he could make friends with a Nobody. He had tried to make her his friend, even after she had revealed her betrayal. Roxas couldn't make friends on his own, Diz downloaded other people and made them be his friend. He was awkward in conversation, often stuttering with people he had never met, or fumbling on his apologies.
Sora expressed his opinion, never truly shut his mouth. He had an opinion on most anything, and nothing he said was very wise or inspiring. He said things friends would say—not that she would know anything about that. Roxas, on the other hand, often only expressed his anger, his absolute feelings for anything. His awkwardness was often evidence enough for whatever he felt.
Sora was always happy, bubbly so, infecting the people around him with his smile, he light. Roxas grimaced and sneered, he often spread his anger or released it on those around him. In all truth, with all that she knew about both of them, it was Roxas who was the complex and emotional one, not Sora. Sora was simple, irritatingly so. She sifted through his memories and found the simplest life one could live. Crush on a girl, guy best friend, competition for her attention, best friend is secretly kinda disturbed, run away together, shit goes bad, ultimate betrayal of best friend, loses girl, promises to come back. Roxas—much more complex. Born unknowing, joining a secret cult with ulterior motives, inherited ultimate power, betrays cult, goes on the run, meets girl, never makes any promises. He was angry, to the point where he had it out for Xemnas. Why not use him? Why use the stupid boy with the chestnut hair and the goofy smile and the tendency to not even want to fight? Why not use the traitor against his own organization, why not use the clearly more capable one? Why?
Diz left the room, and Namine pressed her hand against the glass, pretending to idly read his memories. How drab they were. She lifted her hand from the cold, perspiring surface and turned away, back into the other room. She passed Donald and Goofy on her way and went to where Roxas was. They were both so much alike, same hair, same eyes—same smile, rare as it was. She sat next to him and closed her eyes.
Roxas—a much better choice.
She pressed the button behind her.
Roxas came awake, slumping back.
"What—what the heck just happened?" He asked wearily, rubbing his temple. Then he opened his eyes, and seeing her, he ducked back, summoning his weapon forth. "Namine? What are you doing here?" He was angry.
She took a deep breath. "I'm here to get you out."
"Out of what?" He was ignorant.
"Look, no doubt he'll come for me." She said, looking up.
There was a moment of silence.
"Please, come with me, we can escape together."
He took a step back as the footsteps started, on their way down.
"Okay," he said, nodding. "Let's go."
He was perfect.
The gloved fist came down on the table, hard. It shattered in two, and the two halves fell apart with a flying of splinters. The figure in the corner, leaning against the suit of armor, didn't even flinch. "That blasted girl! She took off with the subject. They can't possibly hope to escape!" He brushed his hand across the surface, sending a candlelight set into the wall, where melted wax splattered and the set fell apart.
"Well, clearly—they do think that."
The man in the robe yelled and turned around, kicking a shield to the wall, splintering its surface. "You!" He said, pointing. "You've caught the boy before, you can do it again!"
The figure simply cocked his head. "I captured him then, when he was alone, insecure, afraid. I caught him when he had nothing else to live for. Now—he has the girl, and the girl has him. They're on the run now—we need to get somebody else. We need to search for them."
"You act like you don't want him awake!" The man said, his voice booming.
The figure stepped forward and grabbed his neck. "NOBODY wants Sora awake more than I do. But I'm telling you right now, if we're gonna find him, it's gonna be more than me looking for him."
The man paced around the room. "I can subtly warn the Organization he's here."
"They'll be looking for us."
"The shopkeepers, I can warn them he's dangerous."
"They'll think you're perverted."
"I can wake Donald and Goofy up."
"Too dangerous."
The man stopped. It was silent for a moment, and he chuckled. The perfect plan, ruined by the element to create it. The entire plan hinged on her obedience, never had he imagined she would go against him. "They're running." He said, musing, wondering where they could be right now. "Hmmm." He looked up at the window. "I'll have to get into contact with him, then, you do realize?"
The figure nodded. "He's here, somewhere."
The man sighed and turned away, the image of the small mouse king in his mind. With both of them searching endlessly, it shouldn't be any trouble getting the boy and girl back into custody. No more dawdling—he would do the memories himself. They were alone, unknowing, unprepared, lost—they were Nobodies. It would be easy.
The train took off from the station, and in one of the many cabs, two people sat aboard who weren't even really people. One was reeling from the realization that this, all around him, was the actual reality. The other smiled at his every move, his wonder, his questioning—his naivety. Perhaps the only thing he and the original had in common.
He looked out the window, staring silently as the world rolled by around him. They both knew the stakes. They were running from a group of people determined to find him, and the rebellion group that had to stay low. Their seekers were on all sides of life and death, east and west and determined as ever to find them. They were two teenagers who were easily noticeable, easily lost and unaware. They would have to change their appearance, think of new names. They would have to blend in, live life—together?
Slowly, Namine's hand crept across the seat, to rest near Roxas'. He saw it, and turned away, not looking at it again. Minutes passed. An hour passed. Two hours. She sighed and pulled away—
He reached out and grabbed it softly, kneading it with his fingers. He smiled shyly at his jumpiness. She smiled back, and they nervously looked away, two young lovers on a train running away. Unlike Sora, they would do it together.
He looked to her. Stared. "Everything is going to be alright."
She smiled, though nervousness still crept at her. He saw it and lightly applied pressure to her chin with his finger, bringing her eyes to his.
"Hey," He said, letting go of her and grabbing both her hands. "Whatever I do—"
She nodded quickly. "I'm always with you, too."
"Remember what you said before?"
Sora and Kairi had their chance.
Namine and Roxas looked away from each other, one hand still clasped in the other's. Now it was their turn. The world was small and they were being hunted, but they had time on their sides. They didn't kiss or hug at all on that train. They didn't need to.
They had all the time in the world.
She and Roxas would still have to do the things Sora was supposed to-repel the Heartless, defeat the Nobodies, save the world, all that stuff, with the added burden of being followed by both the Organization and Diz's cohorts. How would it play out, the other way around? Would he still be able to do it?
Of course, Namine decided.
Diz thought he had everything down. But he could never factor in the determination of two lovers with no real lives and there glorified agenda. Freedom. Liberty. A real life.
Emancipation.