AN: Xifta belongs to RairakkuFenikkusu on deviantArt - she's Tifa's Nobody.
A cruel laugh filled the air as Ansem's keyblade swung towards the cornered group. One member, a tall, busty brunette, stepped forward, a determined look in her dark eyes.
"Tifa, no!"
Aerith Gainsborough's scream was the last thing Tifa Lockhart heard as the keyblade cut cleanly through her body. She fell to the floor, her shape changing from human to that of a Shadow Heartless, which was obliterated with a second stroke from the keyblade.
"Tifa, you will be avenged, I swear it." The normally silent Cloud Strife uttered these words as he raised the weapon known as the Buster Sword.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"Good, she's awake."
She blinked, then looked around the unfamiliar room, trying to work out where she was. Actually, it would be nice to know how she got here, what she was doing before... not to mention who she was, as well. If she'd ever done anything before this awakening, she didn't remember it. Her eyes focused on the hooded figure next to the bed.
"Who... who are you?"
The hood was pushed slowly back, revealing blood red, spiky hair and emerald green eyes. "The name's Axel, got it memorised?"
"Axel. And I'm..."
"Xifta. Welcome to the World That Never Was."
He handed her a coat, identical to the one he wore, and helped her to her feet. She pulled the coat on over the clothes she wore, and it fitted perfectly, like it had been made for her. The clothes seemed familiar in a distant sort of way, but she shrugged off the feeling. Of course they were familiar, they were hers, after all. Something about her name didn't quite seem right, but it was a name, something to give her an identity. The niggling doubt at the back of her mind wouldn't go away, though.
"If you're feeling up to it, I'm supposed to show you around."
She followed Axel around the building, trying to commit to memory all of the rooms he showed her. Castle Oblivion, it was called, in the World That Never Was. He introduced her to some other people, on their tour - Demyx and Zexion, total opposites who looked to be very close friends; Larxene, who simply snarled something that Xifta hoped was a greeting; Xemnas, the boss; and a young blond boy whom she almost greeted as Sora, without knowing why.
"I'm Roxas."
"You seem familiar, somehow."
Roxas shook his head. "We've never met before."
Later, sitting in the room that was apparently her own, she pondered her situation. Roxas looked very familiar, and there was no obvious explanation - she was new here, after all, and had never met any of these people before. Axel had told her to stay in the room until he came to fetch her, but she was already bored. Apparently, she was the newest member of something called "The Organisation", and there was to be a meeting that evening. Deciding she could probably find her own way there, she sneaked out of the room and set off down the corridor. The walls were eerily white, almost glowing, and it was somewhat disturbing.
Xifta paused when she heard raised voices coming from behind a closed door. Two, no, three people were arguing loudly, something about a fight and a boy known as the Keyblade Master. Those words brought an image to the forefront of Tifa's mind - a boy, no older than fifteen, brown hair and blue eyes. Sora. But how did she know that, or was she imagining it?
"Even if her memories return, she isn't one of them any longer! She's a Nobody, just like we are!"
The door crashed open, and Axel came storming out in a fury. When he saw her, though, his expression softened. It seemed almost like pity, somehow.
"You weren't supposed to hear that, Ti... Xifta."
The slip on her name was enough. Memories flooded back, causing Xifta to reach out for support before she fell, overwhelmed. The final, fatal swing of the keyblade, Aerith's scream, her name, who she was, everything. Just as she was beginning to find her way in this strange new world, it too was taken away from her.
When she opened her eyes again, she was staring directly into pools of emerald green, framed by dark lashes and accented by teardrop shaped tattoos. Axel's eyes. She clung to him, recovering her balance and getting over the shock.
"Tifa Lockhart. I'm Tifa Lockhart."
"You were, babe." He corrected her gently, remembering how difficult the adjustment had been for him.
"You're right. Xifta. I could get used to that, it's not so bad."
"That's the spirit." She'd make a good Nobody, be a good friend, once she got her bearings. He regretted the fact that he'd never know Tifa, then brushed it aside. Regrets like that were pointless. He slung an arm around her waist and they strolled around the castle, Xifta learning about the Organisation, Axel fascinated by the stories she told.