Painless
All these reckless nights, have left me spinning out of control:
Is there not a cure for sorrow?
…Roxas?
Roxas, you don't have to cry.
Roxas, c'mon, don't be like this. It's not you. Please, I beg of you, don't cry.
…Please?
Sleep? Non-existent.
Tears? Gone.
Pain? Numb.
Emotion?
It left. With her.
A breath drawn. A breath released.
A shift.
A sigh.
Everything felt so fake to him.
A glow cascaded across the blackened sky.
The sunrise was speeding up.
His heart was slowing down.
He couldn't get away.
He couldn't possibly get away from her.
Everywhere he went; everything he saw...
Everything reminded him of her.
Her sweet, soft ocean gaze.
Her small, petite frame that fell so nicely in his arms.
Her soft silk hair, bright as the sun.
A spurt of blood and adrenaline coursed through his veins at the thought of her.
The memories in his head were all just a blur; like reading a love letter, full of emotions, that had been left out in the rain.
Smudged; imperfect; blurred.
He just barely lived his life, no more than a ghost of a spirit.
It was as if his very existence was an act for all the world to applaud.
And until this emptiness was filled, he'd keep right on pretending to live.
But he knew… the emptiness would never be filled.
So what was the point in pretending to live?
He didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore.
But he found a simple pastime that the world might call a pleasure;
He could look at nothing but the sun.
The sun was his love.
She was his sun.
And when he looked at it, she smiled down at him.
He didn't notice how blurry his vision would get, or how many stinging tears would pour down his cheeks at the bittersweet pain of brightness.
As far as he could tell, staring at her didn't hurt anymore.
It felt good.
The people he called 'friends' told him to stop – said it was bad for him to look at her anymore.
This made him angry.
He didn't listen to them, because they didn't know what they were saying. He didn't care about his health anymore; couldn't they see that?
He'd give up anything for her – his sight for her.
And that's exactly what he'd done.
Living in this world was a fight that he was steadily losing.
But he kept holding; he kept trying.
Because of her, he kept fighting.
Fighting a battle against the night.
When the night came, she disappeared, and he felt alone.
That's why when night came, he didn't sleep, because sleep scared him.
He didn't like to close his eyes.
It was dark.
Darkness scared him.
But he didn't cry.
He would never cry again, because she asked him not to.
He would simply think of her and sing for her when the night came.
So that's why, when she woke up, he was ready and waiting for her to rise into the sky.
Then he'd watch her all day long, because she was more beautiful than anything he'd ever known.
But there was so much missing in his life, she just wasn't the same as she was before.
He couldn't hold her in his arms.
He couldn't hold her hand.
He couldn't kiss her.
Everything that had happened between them was now destroyed.
Lost.
Gone.
And now he felt…
What did he feel?
Whatever it was, did it have a cure?
Was he allowed to feel the cure?
…Would she let him be cured?
The only remedy he knew of was pain.
Pain was the only remedy that could erase his sting.
But the problem was… he felt…
Painless.
…What would he do now?
"Please, Roxas, don't cry. I hate to see you cry."
He looked up at her, tear-stained cerulean eyes against pale, aqua blue. He wrapped his hands around hers, clenching his teeth and trying to contain his tears in his burning throat.
"Naminé…" he choked, "I'm scared."
She smiled sadly.
"I am too."
She squeezed his hand, stroking it soothingly with the fingertips of her fragile, frail hands.
"But whatever happens," she said hoarsely, "you have to promise me something."
He looked up at her, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her ghostly pale, beautiful face, leaning his elbows on the white hospital bed.
"Anything," he breathed.
She smiled, and kissed his forehead gently, trailing down to his cheek, and beside his lips.
"Promise me that you won't cry anymore. No more tears."
She kissed his mouth, and smiled.
"It's not manly to cry, remember?"
And he remembered.
From that moment on, he remembered.
He never cried again; because he couldn't.
His eyes were... broken.
He couldn't see the world anymore.
But he wasn't sad.
He was happy.
Because now, the only thing he could see was sunlight.
The only thing he could ever see before his broken eyes was her beautiful, warm sunlight, wherever he went.
That's all he wanted to see.
He no longer felt numb and painless.
He felt happiness.
Because wherever he would go, she was always in front of him, shining for him.
A/N - I know this story makes Roxas sound kind of insane and scary, but I think it's kind of sweet (in a twisted sort of way) when it all unfolded. Naminé's sickness was perhaps tuberculosis or something - you fill in the blank. Either way, she didn't make it.
Roxas lost his sight due to his non-stop gazing at the sun, but he's not like ordinary blind people. Instead of pure darkness, he sees light; he sees Naminé.
I was just making sure everyone understood. :D