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Nov. 17th, 2006 05:29 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
aether.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
kh_drabbleChallenge: [083] Reflection
Title: Two Lives
Word Count: 536
Characters: the Riku Replica
Notes: Tried a different style with this and sort of failed at it. Ah well.
He knows now not to believe any of it, but he can't stop thinking about the past.
The three of them used to race down the beach after they'd docked their boats, laughing even though they were filthy with sand and late for supper. At home, he knew, his mother would be waiting with her arms crossed and a frown on her face, but he wouldn't mind a lecture later if it meant he could stay with his friends for just a little longer. In the morning he'd row back over to the play island to find the two of them waiting for him, and fight with Sora the way he always did while she cheered for both of them. And he would win, because he always, always won.
(He's forgotten a cold white room and a cold sharp-edged man who frowns and taps his chin with a pencil while calling his progress disappointing. You'll never be a match for the original at this rate, Vexen tells him, more statement of fact than reproach, but he isn't about to believe that. Of course he'll win against Riku. He illustrates his point with a slash of Soul Eater that topples a rack of beakers and sends Vexen into a rant about how insolent youths could at least have the decency to respect their creator, but that only makes the replica laugh. Soon enough he’ll get the chance to prove that it’s Riku who’s the pale imitation.)
One memory's clearer than any of the others, the one that begins with the whole island shambling bleary-eyed out of bed to watch the meteor shower. He wandered away and found her by herself, huddled still and silent and terrified under a palm tree. She refused to look at the sky however much he coaxed, until he told her that he wouldn't let anything hurt her. I'll protect you, he promised, brandishing his sword at the falling meteors like they were sparks of fire from distant dragons. She let him take her hand and pull her up to stand beside him, and gasped with wonder when she looked up at the stars.
(Having your memories torn apart hurts, even more than he expected it to, far more than being betrayed by Vexen when he'd almost thought he could trust the old man. Naminé stares at her sketchbook or the floor but never meets his eyes once she starts to draw, and Larxene's grip on him doesn't loosen however much he flails and snarls and curses. He can hear her laughing, distantly, while the witch tears him to pieces and puts him back together with all new parts made of lies and someone else's truth.)
The only things he's sure of are that he isn't named Riku and that nothing he remembers was ever true. He's a fake and his heart's a fake and none of it should matter to him, but Naminé's smile in his memory is still sweet and trusting and real, and he can almost feel her fingers twined with his.
He made a promise, even if it only happened in a lie, and in the end, it doesn't matter what's real, only what's worth fighting for.
Title: Two Lives
Word Count: 536
Characters: the Riku Replica
Notes: Tried a different style with this and sort of failed at it. Ah well.
He knows now not to believe any of it, but he can't stop thinking about the past.
The three of them used to race down the beach after they'd docked their boats, laughing even though they were filthy with sand and late for supper. At home, he knew, his mother would be waiting with her arms crossed and a frown on her face, but he wouldn't mind a lecture later if it meant he could stay with his friends for just a little longer. In the morning he'd row back over to the play island to find the two of them waiting for him, and fight with Sora the way he always did while she cheered for both of them. And he would win, because he always, always won.
(He's forgotten a cold white room and a cold sharp-edged man who frowns and taps his chin with a pencil while calling his progress disappointing. You'll never be a match for the original at this rate, Vexen tells him, more statement of fact than reproach, but he isn't about to believe that. Of course he'll win against Riku. He illustrates his point with a slash of Soul Eater that topples a rack of beakers and sends Vexen into a rant about how insolent youths could at least have the decency to respect their creator, but that only makes the replica laugh. Soon enough he’ll get the chance to prove that it’s Riku who’s the pale imitation.)
One memory's clearer than any of the others, the one that begins with the whole island shambling bleary-eyed out of bed to watch the meteor shower. He wandered away and found her by herself, huddled still and silent and terrified under a palm tree. She refused to look at the sky however much he coaxed, until he told her that he wouldn't let anything hurt her. I'll protect you, he promised, brandishing his sword at the falling meteors like they were sparks of fire from distant dragons. She let him take her hand and pull her up to stand beside him, and gasped with wonder when she looked up at the stars.
(Having your memories torn apart hurts, even more than he expected it to, far more than being betrayed by Vexen when he'd almost thought he could trust the old man. Naminé stares at her sketchbook or the floor but never meets his eyes once she starts to draw, and Larxene's grip on him doesn't loosen however much he flails and snarls and curses. He can hear her laughing, distantly, while the witch tears him to pieces and puts him back together with all new parts made of lies and someone else's truth.)
The only things he's sure of are that he isn't named Riku and that nothing he remembers was ever true. He's a fake and his heart's a fake and none of it should matter to him, but Naminé's smile in his memory is still sweet and trusting and real, and he can almost feel her fingers twined with his.
He made a promise, even if it only happened in a lie, and in the end, it doesn't matter what's real, only what's worth fighting for.
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Date: 2006-11-18 05:52 am (UTC)(Roxas: *shakes fist* I'll get you yet!)no subject
Date: 2006-11-18 06:48 am (UTC)...which is kind of a spectacular achievment but probably not what the poor thing was aiming for. XD
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Date: 2006-11-19 12:14 am (UTC)Why'd Squeenix make me kill him? He could have decided that 'to become his own person' he had to help Riku and DiZ and Namine save Sora, or something like that D: And then he could have been a little bit happy, you know, and... I'll stop now ^^;no subject
Date: 2006-11-19 05:43 am (UTC)