Written with the mild AU assumption that Kairi does not, in fact, know about Namine being her other or that they reside together in the same body.

Made for the KH(underscore)Yuri community at livejournal and inspired by the drawings here: http / hitsuuji. livejournal. com/ 3042. html (Don't forget to remove the spaces!)

Editted 28 June '06, because I only just realised that my italics died...

Tremble

By Kayu Silver or some alias thereof

"No... Sora's in danger because of me..."

It was with a sense of hatred for herself and the situation at hand that Kairi watched a familiar portal of wicked blackness begin forming on the floor of her cell. Those gates conjured by her captors were the only way out of the cage she was trapped in, and it was rather obvious that no one from the same group that had kidnapped her would be releasing her any time soon.

In fact, if it was that awful man who looked like Ansem, yet claimed he was not, then chances were that he would keep the same plans as his predecessor to remain 'amused' until his own goals could be reached. They were plans that Kairi could not remember, but that she knew were awful nonetheless. The bruises on her thighs and breasts had told her as much once she had taken the chance to examine herself after the islands were reformed.

When the familiarly ominous black trench coat and white hair do not appear in the gate way, it is such a relief that she can almost see her tension slipping away. Instead there is an awfully revealing and strangely modest white dress, something she could see herself wearing, and pale blonde hair, and blue eyes that look far too familiar for her own taste. Like mine and Sora's, if we were to mix...

Before she can think about this, however, there are more important things to consider. Things like the escape that is being, against all odds, thrown into her hands.

"Who--"

"Believe in yourself! C'mon, hurry!"

Without even thinking about it, she grabs this girl's hand. This girl that looks almost familiar, but in a completely unknown way. It feels like, for that brief instant of indecision, to disagree with this saviour would be to break her own heart.

And when their skin touches, it's the most unbelievable feeling. Like electric shocks, and feathers, and warm, and home, and pure and...perfect. That's why when the bright light bursts outwards, Kairi doesn't need to shield her eyes. Because, it's just the reaction to the feeling. After all, if she'd had to keep it within her own body, she surely would have exploded. Besides, the idea of pulling her hand away just to cover her eyes seems so unimaginable.

And then they're running, the both of them. Kairi for her freedom, and her saving grace for... Well, she doesn't know why the other girl is running. She'd like to hope, however, that what ever she felt for this girl is keeping them tied together. That it's reciprocated. The thought of them separating again physically hurts her heart.

The sight of more white-suited creatures, this time with giant hammer-like weapons, drives the thoughts to a sudden halt. It is only when she sees the girl in white shiver as if she has overworked herself that Kairi's mind restarts, and it's lucky that her mind did figure itself out, because if it hadn't she would have missed the reappearance of the man with the X-scarred face, and more importantly she would have missed learning her angel's name.

"Naminé... There you are."

"Naminé..?" She repeats the name, and the way it feels on her lips is addictive, but she doesn't have time to think about the feeling, to realize the strange connection in her mind. Kai...Sea. Nami...Wave.

"Kairi. I'm afraid leaving is not an option." The man with the scarred face is talking again before she can register the name, and for a slight instant, she fears that she'll forget it. But it is already cemented in her mind, like everything else about the girl. "I'll take you to see Sora." the man offers, holding out his hand to her and her alone. Not for Naminé, just her.

The blonde by her side seems to be getting weaker with each passing second, and the thought of leaving her like that, no matter how much she misses Sora, tears the redhead apart inside. For that moment she wants nothing, nothing at all, more than to stay and protect the girl who saved her. To return the favour before she could wither away into nothing, because that was how she looked. As if she would collapse soon.

Because she's defying them. Kairi realized with a sudden clarity. Because she's as much their prisoner as I am. And suddenly she is so angry that it's amazing, but she doesn't know how to fight, so instead she tries her hardest to remember the mock battles on the island, to remember what little she can of Sora's real battles with Ansem, and her position changes to match the memories that seem so much clearer than they should. Maybe it's because she's fighting as much for her captured saviour as for herself, but every detail of every fight she's ever witnessed comes flooding to her, and though she's never battled in her life, she feels like she can.

The scarred man misinterpreted her change in attitude, but Kairi intends to use that to her advantage. To let them think she still wants Sora more than Naminé, even if she knows she doesn't. Because Sora is the other half of her life, but even after so short a time, Kairi knows that Naminé is the other half of her.

"You don't want that?" he asks mockingly, as if to imply she is a petulant child.

"I do." The redhead replies assuredly, and the pause of nervousness is invisible to anyone who isn't watching for it as she continues. "More than anything. But not with you around." Naminé smiles at that, because she was watching, and she does see the pause, and she knows in the pit suffices as a heart that it's not a lie, per se, but only a half truth. The blonde spares enough time for one hopeful thought that the other half of that truth includes her.

"If I had a heart, this would be where I die of laughter." Not for the first time since she met him, Kairi wishes she knew this man's name so she could curse it.

And as suddenly as they appeared, the strange hammer wielding beings are no longer circling threateningly. Instead, they are...falling? Torn in half by another of these black cloaked people. Kairi couldn't imagine why one of her kidnappers would destroy them, but perhaps there was a reason. Whatever it is, it drives a sharp spike of fear down her heart, because this one is obviously stronger than the scarred man.

"You... Didn't Roxas take care of you?" The strange half-fear is obvious in the man's voice, even though it isn't really fear so much as an echo of the emotion.

Kairi is out and out nervous now, but her stance doesn't change. If nothing else, she wants to give Naminé the chance to run while she fights. But a quick glance to the blonde in question reveals not nervousness, or even the same exhaustion. Instead it speaks of relief, something akin to happiness but not quite there.

Kairi turns back to the black-hooded fighter who so easily destroyed her captor- who, she notes with satisfaction, has run off like a kicked dog. When the soft, sweet voice of Naminé breaks the tense air something slithers up the redhead's spine that she couldn't define if she wanted, because it has never been there before. But if she had to try, it might be labelled 'want', though probably it would be called 'need'. And through this feeling, the excitement breaks like water through a faulty dam when the meaning of Naminé's words is understood.

"Riku?" And in that brief moment she lost her concentration on her blonde saviour, overwhelmed by the idea that this hooded man is one of the ones that she has missed for so long. So very, very long.

For the rest of her life, she regretted that moment, because if she hadn't dropped her undying concentration on the blonde, perhaps her angel wouldn't have disappeared. Perhaps it wouldn't have been the last time they saw each other truly.

Now, every day, she rises from the bed where she has been tucked between two warm bodies, her friends in childhood, saviours in adolescence, and lovers in adulthood. She makes her way groggily to the bathroom, while her focus still lost in the last vestiges of sleep, and stares blankly into the mirror.

These are the few moments she lives for, because in that half-asleep state she can imagine that the blonde swatch of hair she has dyed in commemoration spreads, and that her own dark eyes lighten just barely, and that her skin is pale and flushed. For those few seconds she can see, even though she truly can't, the only person she has ever really loved.