AN/ Update in 2017: I thiiiiink the blog post / commentary for this chapter has some further explanation for the stuff going on in this chapter, if you're interested!

Chapter 89: Promise

They reappeared in her room. Riku held Namine closer to him, and she slowly relaxed into his grasp, calming down significantly. He sighed in relief. Maybe this meltdown would be as bad as-

She pulled away rather suddenly and put a rather large distance between them, sending her sketchbook to the floor as she did so. She threw a glance at him, and then turned away, like she was ashamed. Very slowly, she drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in them. She was shaking.

"I- I'm so s-sorry," she said, voice barely a whisper.

He stared at her a moment, confused. Then he sighed. She was having a meltdown. This particular behavior was common.

He was just… really tired of dealing with it.

He slowly reached down and picked up her sketchbook, setting it aside on the bed. "Namine," he said, calmly, gently. "Don't apologize. I'm sure whatever it is, it's not actually your-"

"It's not that," she interrupted. He turned to her, shocked. "I- I'm not worried about- this wasn't really a…" she trailed off, and then said in a voice quieter than before: "I faked a meltdown."

He stared.

"You…" he began, slowly, but then thought better of saying it. She was already upset about the fact, and he knew what she said, he didn't need to have her clarify for him. Not really. He… sort of understood.

"That wasn't very nice," he found himself saying, instead.

He instantly wished he could take that back, though.

"I- I know it wasn't!" she stammered, her voice shaking with what might have been tears. "I just- I thought that maybe- I- I just- I just wanted to talk to you! Alone! And I- I don't know- I guess I was embarrassed or something, because I thought that this would be- I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I'm alright."

"No," he whispered, though he wasn't quite sure why he was saying it. "You're not alright. Not if- Not if you had to fake a meltdown just to talk to me."

She turned to him then, tears in her eyes.

He swallowed, unsure of what to do next. He wasn't even quite sure why had said what he had just said. It felt natural. But… he had no idea what he was supposed to do now. Well, he had an idea, he just wasn't quite sure if he wanted to-

Very hesitantly, he crossed the distance between them. She glanced up at him, uncertainly, still shaking. He gently reached out and wiped her tears away. He lingered for just a second, stroking her cheek softly before pulling his hand away. She stared at him, eyes filled with an expression that he couldn't quite read. He quickly backed away from her, thinking that maybe he'd done something wrong…

But…

He smiled then, as if he were trying to smooth it over.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Well, I-" she began, but then paused. She was still regarding him with that look. A look of… trust, was it? Very… uncertain trust, like she wasn't quite sure what to do with that trust, or whatever it was that she was feeling.

"I'm scared," she said, voice quiet, like she didn't quite want to admit it. "I'm really, really scared. I don't want to be Rewritten, especially not if I'm Rewritten to-" her voice choked then, and she turned away, unable to say the rest.

He reached out to her, but then pulled his hand back.

"You don't need to be scared," he said, slowly closing his hand into a fist; he wasn't quite sure what to do with it now. "I'll protect you. Saix isn't going to get a hold of you. Promise."

"I know," she whispered, fingers slowly clutching the sheets of her bed. "I know you'll protect me, and I trust you more than anything- I just… I'm still scared."

I trust you.

Those words echoed in his brain. He smiled slightly.

For some odd reason, it felt like a weight had been lifted from him, with just those words. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he was grateful for it.

He turned back to her. She still wasn't looking at him. He started to tell her that it would all be okay, tell her again that she didn't need to be scared-

"You were Rewritten, weren't you?" she asked, though it was hardly a question.

He stopped, slightly shocked. He blinked a time or two.

"Yeah."

"Weren't you scared?"

He swallowed.

"Well… Larxene had me-"

"I know, Larxene was advancing on you, you were backing away, and then there was a wall. I saw that memory."

He frowned.

"Then why are you asking me if I was scared? You should know."

She turned to him them, eyes fierce, though they didn't quite meet his.

"Weren't you scared?" she repeated.

He stared for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes," he said. "I- I was very scared."

"And- you can't tell me that that was all because of Larxene," she continued, slowly. "You- you didn't want to be Rewritten either. The thought of- of being changed completely to someone else's liking, the thought of becoming someone you couldn't even recognize as you, that scared you, didn't it?"

He nodded.

"And the thought that I could be changed like that-"

"Scares me even more," he finished.

She looked over at him, shocked. He just smiled.

"That's why it's never going to happen," he continued, laughing slightly as he did so. "I swear, I won't let it. There's no way that…" he trailed off, watching as her face fell and she turned away again.

"How can you be so confident?" She clutched the sheets of her bed even tighter, so that her knuckles turned white. "Something could still happen."

He made a face.

"Why are you so worried about this?"

Very slowly, she reached for her sketchbook. She groped around for it for a second, until he pushed it into her reach. She didn't even notice. She just flipped a couple pages in the book and then pushed it towards him. He glanced down at it.

The picture was very rough, only a basic outline, and unfinished at that. There were two forms standing across from each other. One of them was him, he could just tell. His shirt was terribly torn, but that was the only specific detail he could see. The angle was an odd one. He held his blade in front of him, like he were about to block an attack.

The other figure hadn't been finished. It was only a rough outline of a body and a couple small details. They held a blade of sorts, and something that looked like it might have been armor was on their left arm.

"That's me," she whispered, pointing at the figure. "I- I couldn't finish drawing it- I- It was scary- I was scary…"

She was silent for a moment, and then she turned to him. There was an odd expression on her face. She still looked a bit shaken, because she had been crying recently, but other than that she seemed surprisingly calm.

"Do you want to see?" she asked.

He gasped slightly, taken aback by the question.

"No, that's alright, you don't have to draw it for me-"

"I never said anything about drawing it for you."

He stopped short, regarding her with a rather curious expression.

"What do you plan on doing, then?" he asked.

She took a deep breath, and then crossed the distance between them, a bit uncertain, but determined. Slowly, a bit hesitantly, she took his head in her hands. "Close your eyes," she instructed. He did as he was told.

She touched her forehead to his, and then slowly breathed out. He breathed in, and as he did so (though it was probably just coincidence) a twisted image came to his mind. It was faint at first, but it grew stronger.

It was… her, and yet it wasn't entirely her. She wore clothes that were more suited to fighting; pants and a fitting shirt. She wore a glove on her right hand, and she held a blade that looked much like his own, though it was blue and white instead of purple and red. Her left arm was completely covered in armor. She was smiling, but it was a very cocky and rather cruel smile.

"What, too scared to fight me?" she taunted.

The image shifted slightly, and he could see himself standing there, too.

His grip on his blade tightened uncertainly. "I- I don't want to fight you-" he stuttered.

She laughed and then charged up what looked like a lightning bolt. She threw it at him, though it missed by a good distance. It hit the ground with a very lightning-like impact. His eyes darted over towards the impact point, before returning to stare at her.

He swallowed.

Then, very slowly, he let go of his blade. It clattered uselessly to the ground.

"Fight back!" she screamed, furiously, almost desperately.

"No," he whispered.

She stared at him for a moment, like she was unsure what to do with him, and then she scoffed.

"Fine, sit there and let me kill you! Like I care!"

Namine pulled away rather quickly, then, putting a large distance between them again. The image faded as soon as she did so. Riku blinked a few times, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"What- what was that?" he stammered.

"A nightmare," she whispered.

"No. What did- what did you do?"

She shrugged. "I- I don't know…" she replied, hugging her knees to her chest again. "It just felt… felt like it would work."

He swallowed. "Don't worry," he told her, firmly. "I promise that I won't let that happen. Saix is not going to Rewrite you!"

"But what if it does!" she asked, voice desperate. "What if he does Rewrite me! What would we do? If I was- I was Rewritten to- to fight you, to- to kill you-" The sentence came out strangled, falling into a sob.

"That nightmare-" he gasped. "You- you didn't actually-"

She didn't respond.

He swallowed.

"I wouldn't fight you," he told her simply. "Nothing could make me fight you."

"So you'd just let me kill you!" she demanded, voice shaking with anger. She turned to him then, furious tears in her eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you…"

"I don't want to hurt you either!"

They sat in silence for a moment. Riku slowly clenched his hands into fists, unsure of what else he should do. Namine turned away, clutching the bed sheets again. Then, very quietly, she said:

"Riku, you have to promise me that you won't just sit there and let me kill you."

"But I'd sooner-" he began, and then stopped. She had turned back to him as she said this, and the look in her eyes was unbearable. She looked so scared, so upset.

He sighed.

"Yeah," he said. "I promise I won't let you kill me."

She let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," she whispered. "That makes me feel better."

He swallowed. That certainly didn't make him feel any better, but…

She felt better.

And…

That was all that mattered.