AN: A somewhat depressing Naminé-centric fic. It reflects the mood I was in when I wrote it. Prompt 58 - "Kick in the head".
"My muse has deserted me. I need some inspiration."
Naminé set down her unused paintbrush and glanced out of the window. Nothing unusual was happening. Since moving in together, Sora had no reason to climb out of his bedroom window to see Riku. There wasn't even an argument going on at Axel and Kairi's house. Everything was far too quiet.
Twilight was approaching, and she leaned on the windowsill, watching the sun setting. Not so long ago, the whole crowd would have been on the beach in the evenings, messing about in the waves and generally having a good time. Not any longer. The world had moved on, leaving Naminé behind. Her friends had found jobs, started acting like responsible adults, and treated her like the rebellious tearaway. That was what hurt the most. Until a few months ago, Naminé had always been the sensible one.
She understood, now, why Roxas had left. He'd felt the same way, which was why he'd just disappeared one day, not telling anybody where he'd gone. Naminé sometimes wondered if he was even still alive.
Alive. Perhaps not the right word. If you were only half a person, could you ever really be alive? The concept hadn't bothered Naminé until recently, but now it was on her mind almost constantly. And if you weren't really alive, you couldn't die, could you?
Returning to her blank canvas, she picked up the brush and started to paint. Inspiration had hit, and she wanted to finish the painting tonight.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
It was Kairi who found the body. Lying on the sofa, it almost looked as though Naminé was simply asleep. Her skin, though, was cold, and even paler than usual. Despite living on a tropical island, she'd never tanned.
On the low table, in front of the sofa, were three boxes of painkillers and a vodka bottle. All were empty. Naminé's actions had been very deliberate, despite what Kairi wanted to believe.
Moving slowly to the door, the painting caught her eye. It was a beach at sunset, two silhouettes walking side by side. Even in this picture, they were unmistakeably Roxas and Naminé. At the very bottom, a line of writing, highly unusual for one of Naminé's paintings.
"Maybe the next life will be better."
Realising the meaning of it, Kairi felt sick, and staggered outside. The picture was Naminé's idea of a suicide note.
.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
The memorial service was a week later, and everyone on the island was there. Throughout it all, Kairi sobbed in Axel's arms, the first real emotion she'd shown all week.
"Reality hits like a kick in the head, hmm?"
"You never know how much you need something until it's gone." Kairi wiped her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. "It feels like half of me has been ripped away, and I'll never find her again."
AN: I did warn you it was a depressing fic, this one.
