Author: Scylla Desdemonia Ophelia
Summary: Larxene thinks about why she acts the way she does.
Disclaimer: All Kingdom Hearts character's are copyright Square-Enix.
XII
Sora? He was nothing but a puppet. But, what's the point of having a puppet if you can't break it a bit?
Those thoughts constantly ringing through Larxene's head and she fast paced through the echoing white halls of Castle Oblivion. She didn't exactly know where she was going, or why she was moving at such a fast pace, but she needed to get her thoughts straightened out. Was her way of seeing things really so…horrible?
She came to a halt in the hall, glaring at the ivory painted walls as if they had done her wrong. But it wasn't the walls fault they were such a pure, snowy color. It was the person who painted them that way's fault. Just like all of them. It wasn't their fault they had no heart, it was the heartless who stole their hearts. Just like her. It was all the people in her life from before that made her so "cruel."
"No. This is how I am." My normal is their strange, their normal is my strange, and they will just have to accept that.
XII
Hardly anyone visited Larxene soon after she had become a member.
She was alone in the library for much time then, but then again, how
was she to know, since time was not measured there? It could just be
that no one had bothered themselves to get to know anyone else, or it
could be that they all hated her. Marluxia told her they were all
missing out on a wonderful opportunity, and since the grateful assassin
was the only true person she trusted, she never doubted a word he said.
XII
"They are all jealous of you, Number XII."
She just nodded in reply.
"They all envy your beauty, and your cunning skills."
She smirked as she read yet another book in the Castles library. She had read them all already, but felt the need to read them again, to keep herself preoccupied.
"They fear your ability to twist their minds into the shapes of demons they constantly run from."
She finally looked up from her text, still smirking at the scythe-wielder. "Most people would find offense in that."
"You're not like most people."
Her smirk faded, and stared into the opposing blue eyes. Marluxia strolled across the library to her side, and leaned closer to whisper in her ear.
"I like that you're not like them."
Her grin returned the malevolent one replaced with a genuine one. "I like that you're not like them too."
XII