Don't own KH.
It was a cold night in the coliseum. Sora had been training for so long that he didn't know whether it had been hours or seasons, and his breath frosted in the moonlit air.
A fog had been rolling into the coliseum since earlier that night, that week, that year—Sora had, after all, lost track of time. The mist was thick around him now, but the shape that emerged before Sora's eyes, from the vast, dark gate against the coliseum wall, was too easily recognized.
A dark keyblade was gripped in dark fingers, the Heartless symbol on his chest seeming to shine despite its darkness.
"Riku."
"Miss me, Sora?"
Both keyblades raised to a fighting position at the same time, green eyes and blue meeting despite the mist around them, the moon overhead turning the scene silver despite the night around them.
A smirk was exchanged with a grimace, the two keyblades glinted in the faded, mist-filtered light, and both of the boys started toward each other at the same time. There was a clash of metal on metal, and Riku lunged at the same moment Sora did, the air filling with a spray of blood—
And Namine jerked herself out of her reverie, and stared at the scene she had sketched on her notepad.
She turned her pencil over, rubbing out some of the false memory before hesitating for a moment.
Maybe it would be better this way, maybe it would be easier—
And, instead of erasing the memory she had drawn, tore it out of her sketchbook and crumpled it, leaving it on the floor to her side.