New Friend's (Naminé P.O.V.)

I hid myself behind the bed I slept in when I heard footsteps behind me. Ever so slowly, I looked around the corner of the bed frame, and see the blond boy from the night before. I whimpered quietly.

"What are you doing up here?" I asked subsequently.

He looked incredibly confused for a moment before Vanitas, the theatre director, and my guardian, entered the attic. He looked at the blond boy quizzically, and a bit protectively.

"Is there a reason you're trying to scare Naminé?" he asked coldly, only proving to confuse the boy even more.

He looked at me and then Vanitas before he began sputtering in defense.

"I wasn't trying to scare her at all," he explained, waving his hands in the air as if to delete the past minute or so.

I looked at Vanitas and nodded, taking pity on the befuddled teenager. Vanitas looked back and nodded slowly, signifying that he understood. After he left I came out from behind the bed and sat cross-legged on the mattress tentatively. I looked at the silent blonde boy and repeated my previous question.

"What are you doing up here?"

He jumped slightly, probably a little surprised that I was talking to him, after the way I reacted earlier.

"I was just curious. I found the article about your parents murder online," he told me, scratching the back of his head the second after he said it, most likely cursing himself for bringing up the heavy topic.

I looked down at the bed and felt the tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

"I try not to think about it too much," I said to him, my voice shaking.

At least he had the decency to look guilty for bringing it up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring back memories," he apologized quietly.

I looked up at him and smiled sadly.

"Oh it's alright, I'm actually kind of glad you did," I admitted gravely, wiping the tiny teardrops from the apples of my cheeks.

He looked surprised for a moment before he laughs somewhat awkwardly.

"Well alright then," he finished with a chuckle.

I looked at him and smiled again.

"You never told me your name," I stated quietly.

He jumped about a foot in the air, he was staring at me for some odd reason, but I dismissed it and looked at him pointedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my name is Roxas Akira," he introduced, holding out his hand.

I took his hand and shook it once, he seemed mildly surprised by how cold my hand was. But if he wants to be my friend he'll have to get used to it. I'm a naturally cold person, and living in the attic like I do doesn't help anything, but I have nowhere else to go.

"Are you always this quiet?" I asked him, breaking the small bout of silence that had previously engulfed us.

He jumped for the third time and studied me quickly before shaking his head.

"No, I'm usually more talkative," he said with a small shrug.

I nodded and smiled at him, I still wondered why he had decided to come looking for me.

"Did you like the play the other night?" I asked him softly, trying to strike up another conversation. It wasn't everyday I got to speak to someone that wasn't in the play.

Roxas looked at me and nodded vigorously.

"Yes, I did. I enjoyed it a lot," he replied with a small smile.

I smiled back and reached under the pillow on the bed and pulled out the sketchbook, Roxas eyeing me curiously.

"What's that?" he asked me, his head cocked to the side.

I gently patted the mattress beside me, inviting him to sit down, which he did. I opened the sketchbook and let him look over my shoulder.

"I draw a lot after the shows," I said, showing the picture I had sketched of him and his family.

I glance over at him, he looks stunned, I hope he doesn't think I'm too creepy...

"This is amazing. How on earth did you manage to draw us that well?" he asked, shock clear in his voice.

I looked sideways at him, mentally thanking the gods he hadn't been freaked out.

"I have a photographic memory when it comes to people," I replied.

Roxas looked at me and nodded.

"I see that. It's amazing, I've never seen anything this good," he said with awe.

I smiled happily, I've never shown anyone what I do after the shows, not even Vanitas has seen it. I keep it secret because I don't want anyone else getting their hands on it. I felt Roxas's eyes on me.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

Roxas looks at me, an unreadable expression in his dark blue eyes, I tilted my head to the side. The blonde boy looks back down at the sketchbook in my hands.

"What made you choose the theatre?" he asked me softly.

I looked back at him, confusion flashing through my ocean blue eyes.

"What do you mean?" I asked him just as softly.

He looks directly at me, as if it were obvious.

"After your parents got killed. Why did you choose the theatre?" he reiterated.

I finally understood what he was asking me, I looked at him and then back down at the sketchbook.

"My mother brought me here once. The moment I stepped into the building I felt safe," I replied.

I slowly got up off the bed, and walked over to the only window in the attic. I continue to think about the first time I had set foot in this theatre. My mother and father had brought me to see Cinderella, I was so excited, I had wanted to see the play for as long as I could remember. I was two, it was my birthday present from my parents, the last birthday present they had given me. I looked over at the blond still sitting on the bed, I smiled sadly, I missed my parents, but for some reason, I felt close to them here.

Roxas stood and came over to me.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up again," he apologized again.

I smiled sorrowfully.

"It's alright. Yes, I miss them, but I know that they're always with me." I responded, my voice no louder than a whisper.