A/N: This was a promptfic for my friend Emi, and my first completed fanfiction. Hope you all like it!
Naminé jumps, her pulse racing, as she hears the inevitable knock.
She slowly makes her way through the myriad of white hallways. Every corridor is empty. The rooms are empty. Even the frames hanging along the walls are empty, devoid of any photographs or portraits.
She then reaches the looming pair of doors at the entrance and opens one slightly, squinting through the small gap. She promptly covers her eyes with her hands, peering through the small spaces between her fingers as she adjusts to the harsh sunlight, and makes out who awaits her.
Naminé exhales a breath of relief. "Oh, it's just you. I thought you might have been someone else."
She proceeds to open the heavyset door completely, her feet almost slipping on the marble floors over the momentary strength it requires. Her guest reaches out to assist, but she shakes her head politely.
"So did you get my message?" Naminé asks when finished, her face brightening.
The blond boy stands precariously in the doorway, looking as uncertain as she had mere moments ago. "Yeah, I did. Um...you said you wanted to see me?"
"Yes, I wanted to talk with you about something. Come in, Roxas."
She gestures at him to follow, deciding that they would speak in the white room devoted to her art. It's where she feels most comfortable, as the other rooms are not truly hers and it seems to her as though she doesn't really belong in them.
Neither speaks a word as they make their way through the various spacious hallways that winded through the castle. Roxas shivers. The cold is numbing, and each room and walkway they pass is as lifeless as ice. Not only is it clear that Naminé is the only one to have resided here for a very long time, but she had left no trace of even her own existence. There isn't food, water, or bedding anywhere to be seen. He wonders how she could possibly live like this.
"This castle seems even bigger than how I remember it!" he says, breaking the silence. Roxas starts whistling quietly, unsure of what he should do to keep this uncomfortable atmosphere from spreading. Naminé begins to suspect that he might be becoming uninterested, so she speeds up, wanting to reach their destination faster. Roxas doesn't immediately notice the feeling of urgency her pace has adopted, and soon falls behind. He looks up, seeing her pale blond hair streaming behind her in the distance, and quickly matches his own pace to hers.
"We're here."
Roxas stops. It was the first door he'd seen in this entire castle since the entrance, and it was just as oversized and intricately detailed. Thin rose-vines are carved along the frame like thorny veins snaking through the marble, and delicate sandstone blossoms are in bloom over the four corners.
"I've been meaning to tell you something," Naminé says, "I've just been afraid to."
Roxas swallows, uncertain of what to expect. Naminé's hands are clasped together tightly, and her lips are thin.
"Well," she started, "Not long ago, I had little hope for myself. The Organization had been using me like a puppet, but I don't think I really minded, because at least I was wanted by someone." She made her way into the blindingly white room, each step slow and hesitant. "But lately, things have changed. Something happened that made me feel like I could be important. Made me feel like I didn't have to rely on the Organization to feel like I had a purpose in this life." A hollow smirk betrays her apprehension. "A Nobody with a purpose, isn't that funny?"
Roxas frowns, still standing outside the door. "Don't think like that! You always had a pur-"
Naminé puts her finger to her lips, and Roxas inhales sharply in surprise, his sentence cut short. She makes her way over to the long white table in the center of the room, staring into the pearly surface and seeing her face reflected back at her. She wants to see that face carefree, and cheerful. But it seems to become more difficult every day. "You don't understand. I'm a Nobody. I was never meant to exist in the first place; I'm not entitled to any kind of happiness!"
"Stop saying things like that!" Roxas walks into the room, and hesitantly places one hand on her shoulder in reassurance.
She shrinks away from the touch at first, but then lowers her gaze to her feet as she continues. "What I've been trying to get to is that the Organization doesn't like how I've changed. I'm not as much use to them when I have dreams of my own. You should know more than anyone that they just don't understand things like that. I'm being neglected already, and I know they won't be keeping me around much longer."
"They wouldn't do that!" Roxas' hand slips off her shoulder.
"I'm not doing my job anymore," she says, "And that was the only reason they kept me in the first place. Don't mistake their motives for sympathy, Roxas. Remember who, and more importantly what, they are."
Roxas inhales sharply. He had never heard her refer to the Organization in such a way, or even heard bitterness in her tone before.
"At first it scared me, but I knew I would be disposed of eventually, and pitying myself won't change that." She smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "But before that happens…there's one last regret I don't want to have."
Naminé suddenly leans in and grasps Roxas' hands in hers. He takes a step back, caught off guard.
"If I do leave, I first wanted you to know how I felt about you."
She stands up onto her toes, bringing her face close to his. He feels her hair brush softly against his forehead. Naminé shivers at the sensation of the gentle warmth of his breath.
She averts her gaze for a moment, but then regains her resolve. She closes her eyes and brings her lips to Roxas'. It lasts only a second before they break away, and Roxas turns his head away immediately to hide the scarlet flush spreading across his face.
"I didn't…expect that," Roxas says, "But I just…I-I feel the same way about you." He looks anxiously at her as he says his, unsure of her reply.
She takes a breath. "To be honest, I was thinking of just giving up and letting my future unfold around me, without trying to change it myself," Naminé brushes her hand across his forehead, and moves some strands of hair away from it to see his eyes. "But now, I think maybe I can try to fight it. I can become who I want to be, with you by my side inspiring me."
So while the rooms may be colourless, the corridors may be empty, and the atmosphere may be cold and desolate, there is at least one thing in the castle that doesn't contain any of these traits.