This was actually one of the first fan-fictions I ever wrote. I... kinda forgot about it. Whoops.
As always, reviews aren't required but they are appreciated. I also don't own anything. Please enjoy.
He was so familiar.
That boy.
That thin, confused boy who just decided to waltz into their lives one afternoon, accompanied by two walking, talking animals, and overall being the strangest sight Hayner had ever laid his eyes on.
He was certain he had never met this boy before. How often, after all, do you come across someone like him? No, Hayner definitely would have remembered.
So why was everything about him so... nostalgic?
The feeling only became stronger as Hayner inspected the boy further. His peaceful expression and natural skill while lazily weaving between buildings on Hayner's old skateboard seemed like déjà vu. When the kid let that perpetual grin slip off his face, leaving him looking gloomy and suspicious, Hayner could have sworn he had seen that look somewhere before, on a different face... lighter hair, lighter eyes, lighter skin... darker personality, darker aura, darker smile.
The name, the name... What was it?
Hayner wished he knew the answer.
He asked the kid several times whether they had met once before or not, and occasionally he would see just the faintest spark of recognition in his eyes. But it was quickly snuffed out and the boy would just smile.
"I've told you before Hayner, I'm positive. Hey, could you give me directions...?"
Hayner, for reasons beyond his own comprehension, would sigh internally but smile weakly back.
Even if Hayner wasn't sure why he seemed to know the boy from somewhere else, he never liked bidding farewell to him. Every time the boy started rocking a little, words starting to carry a tone of finality, before he finally straight-out told them he really had to get going, Hayner would try to convince the boy to stay just a little longer, just a couple more minutes—one more race, one more ice cream bar, one more struggle match, one more memory. He wanted to watch, wanted to listen, wanted to figure out just what made the kid so familiar.
But more often than not, the boy's smile would take on that sad tinge and his shining eyes would dull in the utmost world-weariness.
"I'm sorry... I really do have to go."
And Hayner couldn't help but feel that every time he watched the boy throw his hand into the air in a cheerful goodbye before beginning to head towards the train station, he was watching a life-long friend of his slip between his fingers.
Hayner sighed one day. The boy was leaving again.
The boy's best friend had ended up here but had been kidnapped almost as soon as she'd arrived. And while Hayner wasn't usually the best at reading people, the spiky-headed teen always wore his heart on his sleeve and it was pretty easy to tell that he was miserable.
But there had been a bright flash of light, and everything had faded for a moment... and when it all reappeared, the kid had a new conviction in his eyes, a look that brought forth the familiar feeling in Hayner's gut.
And now he had to go and save the worlds, he said, and he really couldn't stay any longer.
Watching the boy walk away, Hayner, almost unconsciously, pulled a picture from his pocket.
It was of he and his friends, standing in front of the old mansion and grinning like mad. It was a memory Hayner vowed to keep forever.
But as he stared at it, he couldn't help but feel... that something was missing. Something light-haired, light-eyed...
Starts with a... R?
He looked up, hoping to see one last fleeting view of that oh-so-familiar spiky head, but saw that the boy had already vanished.
With a sigh that seemed more becoming of a middle-aged man who was finally starting to realize that his days were limited, he pushed the precious, incomplete memory back inside his pocket and began the slow walk home under the never-ending sunset.
No, it must have only been a trick of his imagination.