Broken Crayons and Shattered Dreams

Summary: ""I think it's my best drawing yet. I hope you like it." Namiku. Pre-KH2

Note: I'm going to clear up that I LOVE DiZ! So, don't misunderstand this as a story related to hate for him.

Riku hated solid white.

So, as you would expect, he was disgusted with the room already. White walls, white floors, white doors; it was unbearable. Why did DiZ have to mock the poor girl he now sought to find? Why did he mock her with the white, the white that mocked her at Castle Oblivion? Although, she was probably so used to it that it didn't phase her!

Maybe the white was one of the main reason he wore a blindfold.

Even if she was a Nobody, she didn't deserve to be treated so poorly. DiZ was so caught up in his research, in his revenge that he tossed aside the well-being of everybody, and used them as toys...including Riku.

He was aware of the fact that DiZ had an obsession, but it never dawned on him that he was just being used.

Namine, however, she knew she was being used, she knew she was acting as a toy for him, but all she wanted was to restore that one hero, that one savior of the universe: Sora.

He looked at Organization XIII: they all looked like their Others.

He had yet to see number XIII.

Namine looked up from over the long, white table. She was seated on the white chair that she spent most of her time on, drawing anything that crossed her mind. For a Nobody, she was so innocent, so tender, so very beautiful.

Riku stood, parallel to Namine, looking at her, through her, into her. Through the fibers of the blindfold he could make out the shape of her, along with those marveling blue eyes showing through the black cloth. Namine, oblivious to his situation, had no idea why he hid those eyes, those beautiful eyes she saw only once.

He was tainted, she knew that much.

Suddenly, she smiled, taking her hand out and motioning him to come towards her. Of course, he complied to her. His booted feet echoing through the hollow room, clicking roughly against the bland floor. Namine knew something else about her blindfolded friend:

He never smiled.

He stopped, still as could be in front of her, getting on one knee so that he met her face-to-face. She opened her sketchbook, turning to a page near the back of the little pad, smiling briefly, and blinking slowly. She hid it from his view, leaving Riku confused, but a second later she left it face up on her lap.

"I think this is my best drawing yet," she stated simply. "I hope you like it."

Why? Why oh why did a Nobody like herself feel such deep feelings for this boy? Kairi loved Sora, right? Where were they coming from? Why weren't they leaving her be? Maybe a piece of Sora and a piece of Kairi's care and love for their silver-haired friend caused this reaction. Could his replica have something to do with it? She couldn't be sure, not in the least.

Her dedication to this piece left her crayons dull and snapped in half. To all things moral, if it was for him...it didn't matter, not in the least.

"Do you like it?" she asked in her quiet, dreamy voice. She held it up closer for him to see clearly. Then, suddenly, she took her small and dainty middle and index fingers and her thumb, clasping a piece of fabric between them.

He grabbed her wrist gently, giving it a small squeeze and putting it down to her side. "No," he commanded softly, shaking his head. Instead, he held the drawing up to his face, his eyes out of view. After he was sure she couldn't see his face, his eyes, he slid the blindfold off soundlessly to examine the picture fully.

It was of Namine and himself , a familiar curved paopu tree in the background, holding hands with a star in the middle. Riku wasn't blind in this picture, aquamarine eyes brightly shining off of the page. She redesigned his clothes with a yellow and white vest, with a black, zip-up sleeveless shirt underneath. He wore baggy, blue cargo jeans and striped sneakers with white and gray.

Who knows, maybe he'd use this look when everything was over.

He turned around, back facing her, sending a lone hand backward and giving her sketchpad back to her. Tying the black blindfold over his eyes, making a tight knot in the back, he turned around to face her...Without eyes.

"Thank you," he said simply, a hint a life in his voice.

She smiled, satisfied with his brief display of happiness. "You're welcome." She hastily folded it in half. followed by a quarter fold, and wrote his name on it. "Keep it. It's for you."

"Thank you," he repeated, pocketing the drawing. "I'll remember this forever."

"Thank you."

A silence, not haunting, not cold, but a golden silence filled the room. He dropped down to kneel next to her again, pulling her into a tight embrace, feeling her shake slightly. Knowing her so well, Riku knew the trembling had nothing to do with fear.. "Thank you," he stated once more, the declaration muffled through the fabric of her shoulder.

"You're welcome," she whispered, hugging him back.

He released her from the embrace, standing up and letting out a breath. She stood up with him, only to make him kneel down again.

"Thank you," she said softly, kissing him on the cheek.

That slice of innocence was one she would treasure forever.