She was called a witch.
Naminé had never understood her title, or why she wasn't part of the Organization. In the storybooks Demyx brought her, witches wore black. She wore white. She didn't brew poisoned apples, or turn princes into swans, or cook children and eat them. She didn't have a broomstick, a cauldron, or a pointy hat. She didn't even have proper magic. All she did was draw, and those drawings sometimes came to life. Other times, they didn't. She didn't know what the difference was. The nature of her power was a mystery to her. She was seen as harmless, yet she was always under guard. But why, if the only power she had was notoriously faulty?
Once she had touched Demyx's face and he had jerked away with a gasp, as though she had burned him. He had laughed and made an excuse about static shock, but after that, they never let her touch them. They were always cautious, like she was going to pop them into the oven or turn them to stone.
She dared to ask Xemnas about it. For a long moment he only looked at her, his face expressionless, his empty eyes burning into her.
"Because you are a familiar face in a house of strangers," he replied cryptically before vanishing in a swirl of darkness.
14. Naminé/Poison