An alternate version of "Locked Hearts," except Lokii's name isn't Lokii. Course, it doesn't matter if you've read that or not. It works pretty well as a stand-alone. As some may have guessed, the title comes from a David Bowie song.
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Shivering… freezing… so cold… so lonely… so dark… freezing…. The pain… it hurts… burning… surrounded by fire… no… ice… so cold… it burns….
He awoke in a dim, wet alleyway, surrounded by the bustle of humans. They paid him no mind, the bloodstained heap against the wall. Flashes of memory blazed into life, overwhelming him. His senses took their leave, and everything went dark.
Where am I? Who am I? Where did I come from? What… hurts… so badly? Why am I in so much pain? WHY AM I IN SO MUCH PAIN?
He awoke feeling alone and despondent, still against the wall. Flitting touches of pain moved over and through him. He couldn't find a reason for their existence. Despairing, he brought his knees up under his chin, sending more pain through his form. A lone tear dropped from his eye and rolled down his cheek as he fell into the black waves of unconsciousness once more.
Why… am I… in pain? What… happened… to me? What… am I? Am I… even… human?
He awoke again; disappointed he still lived. However, he felt a new sensation beyond pain and cold. A comfortable pressure, and a warm something pressing against him. He turned his head to the left. Someone was holding him. Her arms encircled his shoulders. Her pale skin glowed against his own, and her raven tresses tickled his chest. She looked up at him.
"Who art thou, and why dost thou sit against thy wall?" she asked. "I am Kyoshu."
He tried to make a sound, but merely got a tired-sounding croak. Kyoshu's eyes softened.
"Thou art mute," she murmured. He shook his head vigorously.
I can talk, he tried to say. I'm not mute.
But how did he know this?
Kyoshu pulled him to his feet. He found she merely reached his shoulder.
"Wouldst thou desire to go home with me? Dost thou desire to live?" she asked.
In truth, he didn't. He felt like he'd no reason for life, and thus no reason to go with her. She read the answer in his eyes.
"Thou hast no desire for life?" she said sadly. "I will not stand for thus." She took his hand in hers and drew him out of the alley. "Thou art as a pale flower in a snow-covered meadow. I cannot allow thee to perish."
He barely paid attention to where she led him. He made no attempt to run when she released his hand to open her door. She took his hand again and led him inside. He barely looked around. A carpet and a table came into his field of vision. Kyoshu picked up a comb and gently pushed him to his knees. Carefully, she began combing his long hair. His blankly staring, half-lidded eyes gazed at the wall without truly seeing it.
Who is she? Why is she being so kind to me? And… what… hurts?
When all the tangles had been worked out of his hair and the comb slid through effortlessly, she laid the comb down. She gently embraced him from behind, running her fingers through his hair, which was now silky to the touch. She leaned her head against his.
"Thou art so beautiful," she whispered. "I must surely be blessed to have met thee. Thou must not die."
Why is she holding me like this? Who is she? What is… this feeling?
A crimson tear slid down his cheek.
Why do I feel so sad? What hurts?
Before he knew it, tears tinged with scarlet were flowing freely down his face.
Ah. My heart. My heart hurts. It aches with a pain I feel will never go away.
"Thy tears are blood," Kyoshu remarked. "Why dost thou weep? What tears are these?"
He slumped forward, tears falling to his tightly clenched fists. Kyoshu moved in front of him, and embraced him again, touching her forehead to his.
"If only thou couldst speak. Then I might be able to help thee," she whispered, heavy sadness evident in her voice. Tears of her own mingled with his. "Thou art so beautiful thine tears bring me sadness. I cannot bear to see one so heavenly as thou weep so," she choked out.
His lashes stained with red, he turned his head to look at her face. He was shocked to see the remorse on her countenance. Though the movement felt clumsy and not oft used, he lifted his arms and wrapped them around her. She relaxed into his arms.
After some time, she stood and pulled him up. She led him to a room on the second story. His eyes flickered over the room. A bed, and some shelves. She pulled him to the bed, and sat down against the headboard.
"Come," she said. "Lay thine head in thy arms, and sleep." Slowly, he moved towards her, and lay against her. She cradled his head in her arms. As his eyes closed, she brushed stray strands of hair away from his face. A dim light surfaced in his eyes for a moment; then it faded.
He closed his eyes, and slept a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
When he awoke, Kyoshu was also asleep. He stared up at her with his blank eyes. She awoke, and looked down at him. Their eyes met. He sat up, and she brushed strands of hair away from his face. She stood.
"I wilt find some clothes for thee," she said, crossing to her closet. "Thy clothes thou art wearing now art torn beyond repair." She rummaged around for a few minutes, watched by his empty eyes. She pulled out a long shirt, and he wondered why she had it. "This belonged to my brother. It shall now belong to thee."
She moved behind him, and carefully slid off his shirt, noting the scars crisscrossing his back, marring his otherwise smooth skin. She slid the shirt over his powerful shoulders, leaving it undone in the front. She embraced him from behind again, and he reached up to touch her arm, turning his head slightly towards hers.
Then she rose.
"I must leave now. I hath business elsewhere. I am sorry," she said mournfully. He followed her to the first floor, and sat on the sofa. He watched her leave like a dog. Then he tried to uncover his past. Black wings of amnesia flew up and enveloped him, stealing away his senses. He blacked out.
When he came to, Kyoshu was holding him tightly. Her tears fell onto his face. Something seemed to stir in his eyes, but it faded as quickly as it had come.
She is… crying? Why? Did she think I was dead? I'm not. But… she must not be sad on my account. I must never make her cry.
He reached up and touched her cheek, wet with tears. Her eyes snapped open and saw he was awake. She sighed, and held him tightly.
"I thought thou had left this world," she whispered.
I wish I could speak, and tell her how I feel.
He sat up, and again she brushed out his hair. When she finished, he leaned back into her arms, and she embraced him. They fell asleep that way.
Soon things fell into a familiar routine. He would fall asleep in her arms, and she would hold him until he awoke. She would leave in the mornings, and he would await her return like a pet. He never tried to uncover his buried past again. Sometimes, when he awoke, she would brush his hair, and he would lean back into her arms.
Sometimes, they would simply sit on the sofa, he with his head in her lap, and she would stroke his face. His eyes remained eerily blank.
This went on for months, until one morning.
He had fallen asleep in her arms again, as usual.He awoke later, but he lay against pillows rather than Kyoshu. She had gone to stand in front of the window, watching the sunrise. He stood, dimly aware that his heart no longer ached, and had not ached since the day he'd tried to recall his past, fallen unconscious, and reawakened in her arms. He stood next to her, and she slid her hand in his. A breeze from the open window stirred his silver hair, and chilled his bare chest.
The first rays of the sun peaked over the treetops, and a torrent of memories erupted in his mind.
A brown-haired boy, wielding a giant key… the doors opening… pure light… a king… what does this mean? The light… it hurts… oh god, it hurts. Why does it hurt so? Another boy… seven princesses… what are… who are they…. What is that creature? Why does it hurt? WHY DOES IT HURT?
He fell to his knees, face twisted in pain. The woman dropped down, and held his shaking shoulders. He cried out, the volume and depth of his voice shocking him. The woman held him tighter. His eyes were no longer blank and half-lidded. They blazed like twin embers, wide-open and fiery red. Strands of silver hair clung to his tanned skin, which had a sheen of cold sweat.
"I… I know…" he whispered, panting harshly as the pain slowly ebbed away. "I know… who I am…. I am he… who nearly destroyed the worlds… who relinquished his body to the darkness… who summoned and controlled the Heartless…. I am Ansem."
-end-
Eh… I started that in American Government class. I'd rather laugh at the government than study it. XP Oh well. Should I continue this? I don't know if I should or not. It started out a harmless oneshot. Will it grow and warp into an epic or something? Who knows? I sure don't.