Every time he visited, one of her crayons would disappear.
Namine didn't think much of it at first, imagining they must have fallen into the void that exists beneath every child's bed, but once they started disappearing from plain sight she thought something must be wrong. She confronted him about it-politely, of course-only to get a dumbfounded look and a who, me? Couldn't be! Hey, listen to this... in response. It seemed like it would just be another bother, something she had to endure but couldn't do anything about-until one morning she found a row of teacups on her desk, each filled with a different color.
"Whatcha got there, doodlebug?"
Like he didn't have anything to do with it.
She'd already found a use for the colors. They stuck to paper as well as crayon, and only smudged when wet, but they just didn't listen to her like crayons did; they wandered all over the pages, mixed and mingled and were...well, they were just rude!
"There's not much I can do with th-"
The twang of strings tuning interrupted her. The tip of her paintbrush twitched.
"Are you kiddin'?" Demyx chimed from somewhere out of her sight. "There's nothing you can't do with it."
Then the colors began to dance, rainbow beads pooling together and bouncing and stretching and quivering to the rhythm of a playful tune; she shoved the page away at first, squealing like it had just become a caterpillar, but the kaleidoscope of swaying palms and shifting seas drew her close. Her eyes had never been so full of wonder as when the boys she drew started running across the shimmering sands.