Desiderium

I.

I don't belong in your memories.

"Forgotten, but not lost."

I remember your words so vividly… they're branded into my mind. You have engraved something within me, Sora. Something that I can't remove, no matter how much I urge myself to forget. And that's just it. You aren't having a hard time forgetting me. Your memories of me are slowly being deleted, one by one, when I can't even bring myself to thrash away a single thought of you.

It's unhealthy.

The truth is, the only thing that fuels my faith is your forgiveness. But I don't deserve it. I don't deserve any of it. I have toyed with your heart, your emotions. It wasn't right. It was foolish of me to think only of my loneliness, my yearning for someone special, my unquenched thirst for affection.

You hydrated that unquenched thirst.

But I had to manipulate you in order to fulfill my thirst.

… I'm sorry.

I have always found refuge in my sketchpad. When something felt amiss, I would swiftly flick my fingers over the crisp pages, gripping my pencil, ready to draw whatever my heart desired. Then I would plummet into my own world, my own galaxy, with its very own constellation… all the while I hear almost nothing except for my steady breathing, the rhythmic reverberating of my heart… the etching hymn of pencil against paper… I would draw for hours on end with an absence of interruption or halt.

But it happened today, Sora. I ran out of space in my sketchpad.

II.

Naminé knew she could easily replace it. Her drawing pad, that is. But something felt out of place… more than usual, in fact. Her iced blue eyes bore into the final picture on the final page of her sketchpad.

Sora.

Her dainty fingers flipped back a page, and she gazed at yet another previous picture.

Sora.

It can't be…

Naminé quickly thumbed through the rest of the pages, scrutinizing each illustration. Sora… Sora… Her pupils dilated, her breath felt strangled in her throat, a fresh paper cut went unnoticed. Sora… Sora… Sora… Naminé swallowed hard, taking in all the flurries of jagged brown hair—that innocent smile—that cheerfully tilted head—that outrageously adorable pout—

Sora… Sora… Sora… Sora…

—Her hands finally reached the flimsy orange cover. Trembling, she released the sketchpad from her grasp and willed herself to breathe properly.

"They're all of you," Naminé whispered. Her voice was weak and airy. Fresh, bittersweet tears began to pool at her eyes. "Only… you."

Naminé refused to let herself cry—she squeezed her eyes shut. In spite of this, the crystalline tears began to spill, splashing against the plastic cover of her refuge… her sketchpad.

III.

You are almost as addicting as my passion for drawing.

But it's not love. It is simply a fragment of something else… I'm almost certain.

Almost.

Because although you will easily forget me, I'm unable say the same for myself. You will always be in my thoughts, Sora. A shadow, haunting me.

Even in the darkness, your shadow lingers.

Only, in this case, I am the shadow.

That is why—your memory is the last place I should be.

And I can feel it; I have finally descended into the darkest depths of your heart. Oblivion.

But to be within your heart at all, puts me at ease.

And that is simply enough.

fin.

For Princess Kairi.

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts is not mine.