Challenge 274
Oct. 5th, 2011 04:26 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kh_drabbleChallenge: 274 - Sleep
Title: To the Victor, the Spoils
Word Count: 566
Notes: No spoilers. Er, some mixture of personal and other canons involved, I suppose. Related to this fic, if anyone's interested.
It’s quiet.
The silence echoes all around him, loud and eerie. He is falling, slowly, towards a bottom he cannot see. There is no wind rushing past him, no sound filling his ears; it’s almost as if he was tumbling down in slow motion, the moment stretched infinitely.
There is no life, no warmth.
Only emptiness.
Sleep.
The word creeps out of the darkness, curling itself around him with a heavy sigh. It makes him weary; every muscle in his body relaxes in response, yielding to the unseen voice as naturally as trees turn to sunlight.
He tries to stay awake but his thoughts drift away from him, and gradually, he starts to dream.
---
Someone’s talking. Snippets of sound waft towards him, hazy and indistinct. He shifts, trying to pull away from the dreams long enough to listen. There’s something there, something very, very important that he’s forgotten. A faint sense of urgency seeps through him and he grits his teeth, willing the memory to come back.
The heavy numbness returns, enveloping him wholly in its soft embrace.
He goes back to sleep.
---
(My name is—)
It doesn’t matter.
---
The next time it happens, he’s ready. When the first hints of sound tickle his ears, he immediately latches onto them, straining to hear the words.
“—!”
It’s louder this time, almost audible. The voice is familiar but he can’t quite place it.
Someone giggles, the laughter bright and searing hot.
“—not funny, Kai—!”
The name is there in his memories, he’s sure of it. It’s dancing on the very tip of his tongue, only barely out of his reach. He makes a grab for it but something stops him, pushing him back.
Sleep.
His thoughts turn in sluggish circles as another wave of lethargy drowns him. He struggles in its grip, breaking through the surface and reaches out once more. Again, the pressure stands in his way, weighing down his body, his mind.
Don’t worry, it whispers, soft and alluring. Just go back to sleep.
(No.) The sharp urgency is back, and the inexplicable need to remember sends heat through his body, giving him strength.
Twisting in mid-fall, he fumbles blindly in the empty space until he finds a foothold.
(A name. Someone’s name. Who—?)
Sleep.
"No!" Drinking from the fire in his veins, he musters every drop of energy he can find and shoves back.
Suddenly, the lassitude disappears. When he opens his eyes, he is standing in a circle of colours, surrounded by darkness.
And Roxas remembers.
---
This isn’t right. You’re not supposed to be awake.
“I wasn’t supposed to exist either,” he replies, peering over the edge again; nothing, only acre after acre of empty space. “But I did.”
Go back to sleep.
“I’m done sleeping.” In the back of his mind, he can hear laughter bubbling in his throat; can taste salt every time his body inhales. The sensations are breathtaking, like life experienced anew.
But ultimately, they belong to Sora. The ocean breeze, the afternoon sun on his skin, the joy, the peace—everything goes to him.
And Roxas gets nothing.
Where are you going?
“Up,” he says, moving to stand at the brink of the coloured glass. A small platform shimmers into existence a short distance away; when he steps out, it solidifies. “It’s time I had a talk with my Other.”
Title: To the Victor, the Spoils
Word Count: 566
Notes: No spoilers. Er, some mixture of personal and other canons involved, I suppose. Related to this fic, if anyone's interested.
It’s quiet.
The silence echoes all around him, loud and eerie. He is falling, slowly, towards a bottom he cannot see. There is no wind rushing past him, no sound filling his ears; it’s almost as if he was tumbling down in slow motion, the moment stretched infinitely.
There is no life, no warmth.
Only emptiness.
Sleep.
The word creeps out of the darkness, curling itself around him with a heavy sigh. It makes him weary; every muscle in his body relaxes in response, yielding to the unseen voice as naturally as trees turn to sunlight.
He tries to stay awake but his thoughts drift away from him, and gradually, he starts to dream.
---
Someone’s talking. Snippets of sound waft towards him, hazy and indistinct. He shifts, trying to pull away from the dreams long enough to listen. There’s something there, something very, very important that he’s forgotten. A faint sense of urgency seeps through him and he grits his teeth, willing the memory to come back.
The heavy numbness returns, enveloping him wholly in its soft embrace.
He goes back to sleep.
---
(My name is—)
It doesn’t matter.
---
The next time it happens, he’s ready. When the first hints of sound tickle his ears, he immediately latches onto them, straining to hear the words.
“—!”
It’s louder this time, almost audible. The voice is familiar but he can’t quite place it.
Someone giggles, the laughter bright and searing hot.
“—not funny, Kai—!”
The name is there in his memories, he’s sure of it. It’s dancing on the very tip of his tongue, only barely out of his reach. He makes a grab for it but something stops him, pushing him back.
Sleep.
His thoughts turn in sluggish circles as another wave of lethargy drowns him. He struggles in its grip, breaking through the surface and reaches out once more. Again, the pressure stands in his way, weighing down his body, his mind.
Don’t worry, it whispers, soft and alluring. Just go back to sleep.
(No.) The sharp urgency is back, and the inexplicable need to remember sends heat through his body, giving him strength.
Twisting in mid-fall, he fumbles blindly in the empty space until he finds a foothold.
(A name. Someone’s name. Who—?)
Sleep.
"No!" Drinking from the fire in his veins, he musters every drop of energy he can find and shoves back.
Suddenly, the lassitude disappears. When he opens his eyes, he is standing in a circle of colours, surrounded by darkness.
And Roxas remembers.
---
This isn’t right. You’re not supposed to be awake.
“I wasn’t supposed to exist either,” he replies, peering over the edge again; nothing, only acre after acre of empty space. “But I did.”
Go back to sleep.
“I’m done sleeping.” In the back of his mind, he can hear laughter bubbling in his throat; can taste salt every time his body inhales. The sensations are breathtaking, like life experienced anew.
But ultimately, they belong to Sora. The ocean breeze, the afternoon sun on his skin, the joy, the peace—everything goes to him.
And Roxas gets nothing.
Where are you going?
“Up,” he says, moving to stand at the brink of the coloured glass. A small platform shimmers into existence a short distance away; when he steps out, it solidifies. “It’s time I had a talk with my Other.”
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