Dreary
(Roxas)
He traveled down the empty, black alleyways. Sheets of rain came down on him as lightning lit up the sky above, his shoes squishing against the wet pavement of the streets. Neon signs illuminated the area, as if the night's large moon wasn't enough for the dark city. But it never got any brighter, because there was a reason this place was so gloomy and disheartening.
It represented the state of his heart. He guessed it was only fitting. Everything had fallen far from the tall, happy pedestals, where the lightning had struck and torn his world apart.
Water trickled down the side of his face and fell from the spikes on the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine as it went underneath his long cloak. The droplets slid off the leather, though his hair was another story; the rain clung there, soaking his scalp and matting his spikes to his forehead.
But did he care? Of course not. There was no one there to make him worry about the way he looked. He was alone now, deserted. Getting away from home was the only thing he had to do, a walk in the rain convincing him that somebody, somewhere, knew the condition of his heart.
Defeated. Broken. Shattered.
The pieces had all been lined up, but now they were scattered. What more could be taken from him?
Nothing. Nothing was as bad as her disappearance.
He stopped walking, clenching his hands into tight fists as he stood in the middle of the wide area. A skyscraper was just to his right, and he was briefly reminded of how he used to feel: tall, on top of the world. Now, he didn't feel anything. What was his purpose? He had nowhere to go, no one to see. At least, not anymore.
The boy lifted his blue eyes to the sky, blinking through the heavy rain. The thunderclouds couldn't hide the strike of lightning that blinded him momentarily, just like her smile. But if they scattered, and it was day, he would see the color of her eyes high above, looking down at him just as they used to whenever he kneeled down next to her white chair, assuring her that she was beautiful, no matter what any egocentric, pink-haired male or blonde terror had to say about it.
His jaw locked, his teeth grinding together as he stared up at the eerie sky. "Why'd you have to take her from me?" he roared, his voice echoing off the buildings surrounding him. But he knew the real reason why she was gone: he'd let her slip right through his fingers.
They may have taken her, boy, but you let her go.
His angry eyes squeezed shut, his chin lowering towards his chest as the rain continued to fall on his pitiful form. They took her, said they needed her for some special assignment. But what could be more important than keeping him stable? She was all he needed, his motivation to get a mission done so he could return to her.
But now her room was empty. All of her drawings were gone; only tape was left on the walls from where they once hung.
He knew he should've stopped it, at least tried to make a compromise with the Organization. But Marluxia and Larxene were in charge of her from the beginning, and neither of them took a liking to Roxas since he joined the group. He knew it was because of the weapon he wielded, but that was the reason he was in the Organization: he was needed.
She was needed too, but he felt his reason for her presence was more important than that of the Organization's. He went to her after every mission, whenever he got done eating ice cream with Axel on the clock tower. She listened to him when he told her what he did that day, sometimes asking him to go into detail. He couldn't blame her—she was locked up in her room all day to draw, for whatever reason.
But she seemed happy whenever she saw him, and the look in her eyes always made him feel a little lighter. He would often play with a layer of her platinum hair as she doodled, and she would laugh at him when he asked her how she could still draw after being forced to do it all day.
He tensed, his fists tighter as they shook with fury. She was gone now; all of those moments with her would stay only memories and nothing more. He couldn't track her down; he had no way to get off this ugly world and find her.
That was when he realized what the weather truly represented.
The rain was his tears, and the darkness of the sky was his world without her. The lightning, it was the brief memories that flashed before his eyes every time he thought about her. And the heart-shaped moon… That was the constant reminder of why she was taken away in the first place.
"Naminé. One day, I'll make things right again."
Just a little something I worked on the last day or two.
Kinda depressing, isn't it? Guess that's how it goes sometimes,
but Roxas had a hard life, so I figured he was a good character-of-choice.
Thoughts?