Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Disney, or any of the Final Fantasy characters.
"Dad… have you ever wondered if a conscience is more than just a little voice that tells you the difference between right and wrong?"
"Brissa I never wonder about a conscience one way or another. It's a stupid idea, we can think for ourselves."
"But dad… I think…"
"Get out of bed Brissa, I need your help around the shop."
I nod and watch my father descend the small wooden ladder that's in the corner of my bedroom. It's the ladder that leads to our shop below. Well, really our shop is on the very bottom floor; there are some moogles who set up shop directly below the floor of our living space. Our home isn't much, just a sort of shared studio space at the top of a building in the middle of the first district of our town. In our shop, we sell accessories, trinkets, and small oddities to the strangers who wander in from time to time. The local residents don't usually need any of the items that we make and sell.
I sigh to myself as I contemplate the lack of concern that my father has for my worries. Shouldn't all parents take their child's problems into constant consideration? He completely brushed off my query about the conscience. Speaking of the conscience, I'm slightly concerned there's something wrong with my mind. Is it normal to be able to communicate with people inside your head? I'm sure it's not, but I've been able to converse with someone ever since we moved into Traverse Town. I used to think that maybe it was this place that caused these strange, internal conversations. However, Traverse Town simply isn't that special – it just houses refugees. I've been living in Traverse Town for a while, yet I can't figure out what this voice in my head is.
The voice is too real for me to truly believe it's my conscience. I know that the person is male, maybe even a boy- he sounds young. He doesn't have a face, though. I just see his shape in my minds' eye whenever we make contact. It sounds crazy, but I know he's real. He's been there for me during all of my difficult times, and I've been there for him. Ever since Traverse Town, we've been mental crutches for one another. No one knows about this voice though; they'll tell me I'm just traumatized by the events of my childhood.
When I get up from my bed I'm struck with a sudden headache that forces me to double over. My friend is in pain... I can feel it. I know it in my bones. My veins are on fire. My head is pounding. My heart beats faster and faster. My muscles begin to ache. Everything he is feeling is coursing through my entire body. I call out for help as the pain rapidly increases, but my voice is miles away. No one will hear me. I become less and less aware of my surroundings, until the ground comes rushing up to me and my vision turns to black.
"Briss? Brissa?" I hear my dad say softly as I begin to regain consciousness.
"I'm fine dad," I respond hesitantly, and sit up to examine my surroundings. How did I get down here? Somehow, I had managed to stumble from my third floor bedroom to the bottom floor of our shop. My ears are ringing, and my vision is slightly blurry. There is a dull pain throbbing somewhere in the back of my head. My fingers feel a little bit tingly.
"Are you sure? I mean, you just fell an incredibly long way. You could have died, kiddo," my father says to me as he checks for bruises around my head. I gasp involuntarily when he places pressure on the back of my scalp where the dull pain is coming from.
"Mmm, maybe I should just go lie down dad," I respond as I hazily stand up. My dad grabs my arm to help steady me.
"Right, you go do that. Take it easy, I'll handle the shop for today."
I nod, and slowly ascend the ladder to the second story where the moogles are. I take a moment to clear my vision once more, and then pull myself up the next ladder, which brings me back into my bedroom. My arm is still sore, but the ringing in my ears and the blurred vision have mostly subsided. I contemplate lying down for a while, but I decide against it. There's no sense in wasting a day due to a minor injury, so I make a move to change my clothes instead.
I examine myself in my body-length mirror. My father says I look mostly like my mother, but I have his personality. I can't remember my mother, and my father never talks about her. I think she died before I was old enough to comprehend the fact I had parents, but I've also never been directly told she was dead. Dad doesn't like to talk about her at all. I sometimes get the feeling that something terrible happened, something I'm not supposed to know about, so no one ever wants to talk about it. No matter how hard I pry, no one will tell me what happened to her... Easier to just assume she's dead.
The farthest my memory goes is to a time when I was a little girl, but even those memories have always been difficult to recall. I know I lived in a castle with my father and an array of other people. There's Leon: strong, quiet, intimidating. Yuffie, who is quirky and skinny and athletic and makes me laugh a lot. Aerith is quiet like Leon, but in a different way. She's not reserved, just soft spoken. I know we also lived with this guy named Ansem, and he was mysterious and a little spooky. He didn't come to Traverse Town with us. I also have this vague memory of another girl being there, but everyone always tells me that I must have had an imaginary friend. I wonder if they would make the same assumptions about my voice-companion.
My dad built gummi ships when we lived in the castle, and that's how we left and came to Traverse Town. Ansem and the other girl were never seen again. My memories of them are so distant that they feel almost made up. I would think they were made up, if the others didn't mention Ansem from time to time. He was (is?) some sort of researcher, I guess.
At the time of our departure from the castle, my father gave me a necklace that was a golden heart strung on a golden chain. I never go out without it, so I pull it over my head before turning to my closet. I remove a sleeveless black top and a pair of thick, black shoes that are sort of worn out. From my dresser, I yank out some light blue shorts and a pair of black cuffs to wear around my wrists. Finally, I tug a pair of cushioned gloves up past my wrists. They're good to have on if I need to lift anything heavy like a weapon; they prevent blisters from forming on the palms of my hands.
In order to avoid my father, I climb down to the second floor where the Moogles are ("Kupo!"). I exit through the door of the second floor, which open up to a clearing behind our shop. I turn left and hop off a small ledge to a lower level of Traverse Town. The ledge overlooks a small alleyway that runs alongside my father's accessory shop. That's when I see a boy passed out against a wall of our shop. I'm stunned for a moment, because we haven't had refugees in quite some time. I shake off the surprise, and run over to him to make sure he's okay.