prelude o1: the beginning
We were young, once. We lived, we played…we loved. We had everything—we were everything. We were kings, and queens, and rulers of the world around us; the Destiny Islands were our domain, and we were forever moving. Until, one day, we weren't.
We would always go rowing to the Play Island just off the coast of Destiny South—Sora, Roxas, Naminé and I would, at least. Riku would come with, when he deigned to grace us with his presence; that day wasn't one of those days. We were getting a little bigger, getting a little rowdier, but we could all still fit in the same boat. Mum and Dad were on shore with Uncle Z and Aunt Ari, watching and waiting for us to finish playing and row back.
I'm not exactly sure what happened next, not even know when it's around twelve years later. All I know is that, somehow, we were all out of the boat. There was so much water in my mouth, up my nose, filling my lungs; through sheer force of will I made it to the surface, and when I looked around I could only see Sora. He was screaming, calling for Roxas and feeling around underwater frantically and trying to find him. I couldn't see any sign of Roxas. I couldn't see Naminé.
I immediately tried to dive back under, even though she was always the better swimmer of the two of us, because I had to find her. I was desperate, I couldn't lose her! She was Naminé—twin sister, best friend, other half. Naminé was mine, and I wasn't going to give her up that easily. I think I may have gotten a good distance under the surface, I was never really sure, but then there were hands and they were pulling me back—up—away from the deep, away from the reason for my whole life.
I heard screaming when I broke the surface the second time, but it wasn't Sora. I could see him, and he was pale and shaking and looked so, so broken. In hindsight, I know the screaming was coming from me, but I was so distraught that I didn't know it. Daddy was holding me tightly to his chest and whispering to me while Mum tried to get some kind of reaction from Sora, and I could hazily see Uncle Z and Aunt Ari frantically diving underwater, searching for Roxas and Naminé.
A lifeboat came and pulled us up, and told the grownups that they would continue the search. The man in the boat said Sora and I needed to go to the hospital to get our stomachs flushed of seawater, and so we were whisked away toward Destiny Islands Medical Center.
Most people say that when something traumatic happens it seems to go in slow motion. To my young mind, the accident and our subsequent rescue seemed to take about ten minutes. I was told later that, in reality, the whole even took just over an hour.
Sora and I grew up, that day when we were six and lost everything. We were never the same after that. We never saw Roxas and Naminé again. They never had a funeral.
Part of me, and it is a very small and reluctant part, knows that they are dead. I know, logically, that they probably swallowed too much seawater, probably drowned, probably got tangled in seweed and pulled to the depths of the Destiny Pacific and died cold and alone. But there's another part, a much larger part, that just knows…
She is my other half—the missing piece of my soul that was separated from me at birth so that I would have a best friend, an confidant, a partner in crime and a shoulder to cry on. She is my life, my everything, and I would know if she had been taken away from me. Sora would know if Roxas had been, too.
They're both still out there. We will find them.