Sora's Heart had gone silent, she felt like she was holding her breath. Ventus's face lit up in distrust, and took a step a back. When she reached for his hand, he snatched it away.

"Are you working with him?" He asked. This boy was a stranger. "With Xehanort?"

"Who's Xehanort?" She was babbling, grasping for words. She didn't want to lose him. Not like this. "I'm sorry—I said that and I didn't think—"

"You let it slip. Get real! You were hiding it from me. Maleficent was evidence enough to never trust a witch. Why… Why do people keep lying to me? Master Eraqus, Aqua, Terra," he tore his gaze away from hers, tearing the ghost of her non-existent heart with it. "I expected it from them. I hated it—but as much as I hate to say it—they had their reasons. But you?"

There was so much disgust in that 'you', so much resentment and hate and apathy, that she couldn't take it. She had been so happy a moment ago, but now she was dying inside. She was dying.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Nobody ever cares about a Nobody witch like me! Nobody has ever looked at me—knowing what I am, what I've done—and thought of me as a normal person. I just wanted to be… I wanted to be somebody! A Somebody! Please, just—"

For a moment, he softened.

She could barely see him now, her vision was blurring, her chest was tight, and noticed how his hands had reached her face and felt them wipe tears away. She wanted to push him away. They're not real. They're just another method of making you stay with me.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm not real," she said. Naminé explained her existence—the coincidence, the anomaly—slowly, but Ventus did not stop looking at her, his gaze ever constant. When she told him about her powers, about what had gone about in Castle Oblivion, the monster that she was, his brow creased, but never once did he interrupt her. A last kindness, one she did not deserve.

She breathed in, and out. His eyes were so bright, and so beautiful, but now they would never be hers again. He would never dazzle her with that blissful smile, or make her blush with his compliments. After all, who compliments a criminal who was atoning for their mistakes?

"You're not a monster."

"How can you say that? After what I did, Sora forgot what mattered. Sora thought he was happy." She pulled his hands away. "How can you pretend that what I did didn't mess everything up? I could be using my powers on you right now."

"When we're alone, we are weak. That man—Marluxia—he used that. You can't blame yourself for doing what you did. Not when you're trying your best to fix it." She blinked, but he carried on. "Strength of heart will carry you through the hardest of trials, Naminé."

"Ventus, I don't have a heart."

"If you don't have a heart, then explain this."

And he kissed her.

There was no electricity, no fire, no thunder. There was only the wind, and she felt it blowing from all directions. She was a balloon, and she was flying, the sky was bright and blue and the clouds were white and soft. The sun was shining on her skin, warming her up, but the wind held her steady, and did not let her go. She tried to grab him, but he kept slipping through her fingers, through every stolen breath she managed, through every hungry look she managed to find in those endless eyes.

She let herself be carried away.

"There is someone inside Sora's Heart."

DiZ looked up from his papers. She had gathered the courage to stare him down, blue on gold. After so long of being wary of him, of almost hating him, she had come to him. Not reliable Riku, not enigmatic Axel. No, cruel, brilliant DiZ.

To her surprise, he blinked. "Another Nobody?"

"No, a Heart. With no body," She replied. "He has been inside Sora for years. But his body," Naminé showed him her sketch. "Is somewhere in Castle Oblivion. I need to go back."

She needed to find it for him. She had not felt a purpose so deeply, not even when she was fixing Sora. Ventus was a promise of a normal life. Of a friend she had earned from scratch. Of being a good person.

"Castle Oblivion is not yours anymore, child," he said. He picked up the notebook, and Naminé noticed, with her artist's eye, how he looked surprised. The flicker was gone in an instant, but Naminé saw it. "This is him? The boy?"

"Yes. His name is—"

"Don't." His voice was as cold as a fledgling Heartless. She stiffened. She felt as if she should be used to him treating her like a show dog already. "This new information is, just that, new. And it has added another factor into the fray."

"What do you mean?" As if she hadn't fucked up everything enough. Perhaps she could become a part of the despicable Organization XIII. She certainly has the tact for it.

"It explains why Sora's Nobody looks like this." He slid her sketchpad back, but on top of it, was a photograph. A boy with blond hair and indigo hair. A flat, lifeless expression graced his features, and Naminé bit back a gasp.

"Naminé, that is Roxas. Does he look like the boy in Sora's Heart?"

"Identical," she breathed. "A carbon copy."

"Not another word." DiZ stood as he spoke. He got close to her, and Naminé didn't feel that hatred towards her anymore. Only curiosity, only interest in seeing how she ticked. "This boy has affected Sora's Nobody, somehow. And we do not know what saving him—giving him back his body—will do to Sora. And when Sora comes back—"

"I won't be around anymore." So, she could do nothing. Nothing for Ventus, who had kissed her and set her free. He was trapped, and Naminé had to throw away the key.

For a moment, DiZ looked at her. And he saw the one thing he had never him give her: pity. She thought of that girl, the one who had come to her a while ago. Perhaps that would be the last time she saw her. Or anyone did. "Now you know how powerless knowledge can make you."

Ventus, that had been bad. Ventus, you shouldn't have done that. Ventus, you are—by far—the most insane student I've ever had.

The voices spoke in his head in a loop, as he banged his head against the glass floor. Had he kissed Naminé on impulse? Yes. Had he been a bit too willing? Sure. Had he regretted it? No, absolutely not.

Naminé was a breath of fresh air, a kind angel sent down just for him. She had been so afraid—he could tell as she told him about her, about her coincidental existence—that she had been shaking, but her eyes did not lie, not once. They had never lied to her, only concealed. But when she told him her story, she let her true eyes shine through. Blue, rimmed with gray and stars and—Oh, god.

And this ridiculousness about her lacking a heart was insane. How could a girl who seemed so bright and alive and real believe she did not have one? She insisted it was a ruse, one she was born with, but wasn't that what a heart was? To be born with a fake heart, is it any different than having a real one?

Did she kiss him back?

He stopped tearing at himself for a moment and grinned, the endless void in Sora's heart wincing under his bright smile.

Yes.

Naminé had been brutally honest: after his confrontation, she couldn't bear to leave him in the dark anymore. Everything she knew, she had told. Even the kiss had been a bit of a tell, a girl who had been desperate for company giving into a boy who had fallen for an angel. But, perhaps, maybe her loneliness was only a lapse, one he had come to end. Maybe that's what these ten years had been for.

Still.

He had been in Sora's Heart for ten years.

Of course, he had seen Sora grow. But for some reason, his mind didn't correlate that information into the passing of years. It felt like a movie, and time wasn't very clear anymore.

Did that mean that Terra and Aqua were older now? Had his body grown old and withered away without a heart? If so, then maybe he should just stay inside Sora. Any trace of his home was gone now. Naminé hadn't found anything about a world called Land of Departure.

No, but she had insisted that her database was small and limited. That he should try to venture for himself. Aurora was still around, with her heart intact. Maleficent had endured this long as well. Who was to say that his friends were not made of the same steel?

He got blasted out of his thoughts when Naminé landed on the glass platform with the grace of a princess. He rose to meet her, his hands almost going to her waist or to her face, to place her down, to hold her. Play it cool! Chill out!

"I'm sorry, Ven."

He got a flash of Aqua saying those very words to him, and he felt tears gather. He blinked them away. "What for?"

"I can't get you out. I have an idea of where your body is, but with you being such an important part of Sora," she said as she handed him a photograph. It was him. Except— "DiZ doesn't want to risk it."

"And neither do you," Ven said. It wasn't a bitter statement, but a fact. Naminé had been working on Sora for so long, and to imagine losing her work, it must be killing her. "This is his… Nowhere? And he looks like me?"

"Nobody," she replied with a laugh. Sora was lucky to have the affection of such a pretty girl. It was obvious Naminé felt something for the boy; something like adoration, a fixation to a far-off dream, one that she felt would never be hers. "And yes, though, we don't know why. On top of that, we only have a couple of days left together."

That tore threw him like a knife. "What? Why? Naminé, you don't have to leave me—"

"It's not you I'm leaving, it's Sora. I can't see him anymore after I'm done. And not seeing him means not seeing you."

"How much time is left?" How much time until I'm alone again?

Naminé was smiling, but it was so sad that he felt his heart break. This girl, so beautiful and radiant, would leave him too. "Even though I've been slacking so much, I'm done. The memories he has are complete, I'm just missing two pieces."

"The Nobody…?"

She nodded. "The Nobody and his Puppet."