Disclaimer: Not mine, not at all.
Author's Notes: Here's part two, from Roxas's point of view. Please review! Thanks for reading!
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The white was blinding. The only bits of color were the pictures. Roxas ambled around the room restlessly, observing each of the pictures in turn with bright blue eyes. He recognized many of the people in these pictures – Sora, Donald, and Goofy, among others. He had dreamed about all of them.
There was a chilling illustration of him and Axel in a deserted street. It disturbed him to think that this scene before his eyes had actually happened to him, yet he didn't remember it. He didn't like thinking that someone else had messed with his memories. Not one bit. It left a nagging feeling in the place where his heart would have been – were any of his memories real? What was in his past anyway?
Roxas was just about to leave, having made a full circuit of the room, when he noticed a small piece of paper that had fallen under the table. It looked like it wasn't important at all, but he stooped down and picked it up out of curiosity anyway.
His breath caught in his throat. It was a shockingly realistic image… of him. He was apparently asleep, against a wall somewhere he didn't recognize. He was sure it was himself – he couldn't mistake his own spiky golden locks. Roxas recognized the black, cloak he was wearing from the picture of him and Axel.
This must be something he'd forgotten. Or maybe it was something he was never supposed to remember.
Unnerved, Roxas stuffed the small drawing in his pocket and left the White Room in a hurry. His past was a question, and he wanted the answer.