AN: Written for the hell of it - mostly, experimenting with writing styles. I'm still working on my longer stuff..This is mostly just for stress relief. I've been having fun with writing one-shots like this a lot lately.
I don't own Kingdom Hearts - Wish I did. Don't.
Thank You
Straw blonde hair, cascading down over pale bare shoulders, white dress, frail and thin. She seemed so out of place, a pale shadow among the white walls, pad of paper in her lap. Crayons spread out on the floor around her,like a child had dropped them when a parent caught them drawing on the walls. But she wasn't a child. At most the frail girl was only three years younger than Zexion. Or three years younger than the person he used to be.
He didn't often venture to the upper floors of the castle. The Schemer was usually content to stay in the basements, but something had caught his attention that day, drawn him away from the dank darkness, something that brought him to the upper floors. He walked slowly down the hall, a scent that was a unique blend of the sweetness of light and the bitter scent of darkness...A small yellow crayon rolled across the floor, stopping as it came into contact with Zexion's boot. He leaned down, picking it up, wondering vaguely from whence it had come.
There were footsteps, and there she was. She said a polite hello, with a smile, introducing herself as Naminé. As much as someone could without a heart, Zexion decided he liked her. She was unique, unlike any other. Not quite a Nobody, but not a Somebody either - a fleeting reflection, an echo, caught in-between the two.
"May.." Naminé paused. "May I have that back please?" she said quietly, pointing the crayon in Zexion's hand.
He noticed the small sketchpad in her hand. He blinked, handing it back to her.
"Of course." he murmered, the faintest smile playing on his lips. Yes, he liked her.
.:-xXx-:.
Time passed, the occasional visits to the upper floors increased, simply wanting to sit with her again. There was hardly a need to talk, just being together. Listening to the soft sound of the crayon moving across the paper...Naminé was the only reason he ever went up to those floors - he despised Marluxia and Axel and Larxene..Larxene was a sadistic psychopath, no reason to speak with her.
But there was Naminé. Kind, gentle and sweet Naminé, who always had a kind word, some observation. And she was intelligent. She wasn't an archetypal dumb blonde. Naminé had the kind of intelligence that was oh, so rare in people. The kind of intelligence that made it possible for the Schemer to be in their company...
.:-xXx-:.
Things had changed since then. Zexion didn't dare go to the upper floors anymore. Marluxia, Larxene and Axel were hostile now. And somehow, he missed Naminé . Missed those quiet conversations, the glint of light on her soft blonde hair, the sound of her voice, her dark blue eyes, looking meekly into his own...
How could it hurt so badly when he didn't have a heart?
.:-xXx-:.
And everyone was gone. Everyone except for himself and Axel - Axel, the wildcard...And Riku. Riku was still there..
.:-xXx-:.
So this was what failure tasted like. His own plans twisted against him as he looked at the Replica, and at Axel in horror. Horror caused not simply by knowing that this was the end for Zexion, but knowing...
As the hand closed on the collar of his cloak, hoisting him up, he saw flashes of her.
Of Naminé who Zexion would never see again.
A crayon rolled across the floor, stopping as it came into contact with Zexion's boot.
It can't end this way.
He looked at it, then looked up, knowing who it belonged to.
He couldn't let it end this way...
A kind face smiled up at him, dark blue eyes, straw colored hair cascading down bare shoulders.
"May I have my crayon back, Zexion?"
He nodded, smiling a bit himself. "Of course, Naminé ."
Naminé 's smile widened and she nodded, taking the crayon from him.
In that final moment, the only thing he could see was swirling darkness, losing consciousness.
"Thank you."
Comments: Oh and..The official plot sucks D