Chapter Text
Naminé found herself in a dark, empty abyss.
She was pretty sure she shouldn’t be aware of that fact.
Last she remembered, she had opened a dark corridor to send Kairi and the others home. After that… nothing. That’s how it should be. She’d already merged with her Somebody, she doesn’t exist anymore.
It was strange, to be aware of her nothingness, but on some level it made sense for things to turn out this way. So she let herself drift, thoughts fading into static.
But then… somehow, in this space that didn’t exist, Naminé was suddenly able to feel something touch her arm. It wasn’t anything special, just a gentle warmth wrapping itself around her wrist. A wrist she shouldn’t have… She tried to open her eyes, to look down and see what it was, but only darkness greeted her. She couldn’t help but wonder, shouldn’t I be part of Kairi now? Why can I feel that?
She didn’t have long to think about it though; the grip on her arm tugged hard, pulling her towards… something. She still couldn’t see, but she swore she felt the warmth brush against the emptiness in her chest where a heart would be, calling to her like how she imagined a mother would call her child. It was so comforting that Naminé had the urge to cry, her lack of a body or heart forgotten as she answered the call. Please…
Then, she was falling. She felt whatever it was that reached for her wrap itself around her in a loving embrace, protecting her as she tumbled deeper into the abyss. It only lasted a moment before everything just… came to a stop.
And a few seconds later, Naminé was finally able to open her eyes.
All she could see was white. She was lying down, a chill spreading through her body from the cold floor beneath her — wait, body? She heard herself gasp. She could feel! And hear! How? I shouldn’t be able to…
Slowly, she sat up, looking down at herself in confusion. She ran her hand along the fabric of her white dress, other hand reaching up to her hair. She pinched a lock of it between her fingers, noting that it was blonde instead of the deep red she was expecting. When she shifted to fold her legs under her, she saw she was wearing her usual blue sandals. If she looked and felt like herself…
Did Kairi lose her heart again?
She tried to reach out for her Other. Kairi? Please tell me you’re okay…
Silence. Naminé shivered as panic began to set in. I can’t feel her at all…! This can’t be happening, I shouldn’t be here, she should— Dread shot through her as she realized there was only one possible explanation for this. Her hands dropped into her lap, and all she could do was stare at them in horror.
Did… did I do this? No… no… Kairi, I’m sorry— But then her eyes drifted from her trembling fingers to her surroundings, spiraling thoughts coming to a sudden stop.
Wait… is this…?
Marble tile, white walls, and yellow doors…
Castle Oblivion…
This… shouldn’t be possible. Naminé was supposed to be gone. She couldn’t be here. Not without Kairi. And she definitely shouldn’t feel a wave of comfort at the realization that she was here, as herself.
But, well… now that she thought about it, something was different about Castle Oblivion. While she was here, she couldn’t sense Kairi at all. And Roxas didn’t start seeing his Somebody’s memories until they moved Sora to the mansion. She suspected that Nobodies and Somebodies couldn’t be affected by their Others when they were here. The separation between this world and the realm of light made it possible for beings that couldn’t exist at the same time to ignore that rule.
Relief washed over her. Kairi’s probably okay, then. I didn’t hurt her. I just can’t feel her right now.
Taking a deep breath, Naminé closed her eyes to think. She had to figure out how she’d been separated from her Somebody again. Why was she here? What was so special about this place? She recalled what it was like to live here…
Back when Naminé was a prisoner of this castle, she’d discovered something she suspected only she knew of. Unlike most castles, this one was aware. When she was alone, whispers echoed through the heart-shaped hole in her being. It told her stories of the trio of friends who used to live here, all Keyblade wielders who were training to become Masters. She learned of the laughter and joy they shared, and the tragedy that inevitably befell this land and tore their lives apart. And when she sat down to draw, the castle sang for her, visions of its former glory flashing behind her eyelids as she tried to capture the home this place used to be.
Her chest ached at the memory of the faces she saw in her daydreams. She longed to see them, to meet the people whose voices kept her company when she was alone in this empty castle. Unfortunately, Naminé never learned their names — or if she had, she couldn’t remember.
Now, Naminé could barely feel the castle. She called for it, but there was no response. It seemed to be dormant, waiting for something — or maybe someone — to awaken it from its slumber. A deep loneliness settled in her chest at its silence… but she was used to that.
So what could she do? There was no one left in this place, she was sure of it. The Organization abandoned this castle entirely after Sora, Riku, and Axel took half of its members out. And she doubted any of the people the castle showed her had returned since she left. She wasn’t even sure if any of them were still alive, let alone where to look if she wanted to meet them. But she wanted to try. She’d never gotten the chance to explore the castle before, and she was curious what she’d find now that she finally could.
…
Naminé never really formed a good sense of the passage of time before, so she had no idea how long she’d been wandering through the castle halls. There wasn’t much to see, as the last few rooms had all been identical. But just as she started spacing out, something made her pause.
For a moment, she couldn’t figure out what had changed. Then a familiar feeling rushed through her, so sudden she almost jumped. It reminded her of the warm embrace from the endless void earlier, though the sensation was stronger this time. Perhaps it was due to her being in the castle this time instead of the darkness that muffled her senses. It settled in the place where her heart would be if she had one, its warmth spreading all throughout her body. She wondered what it could be, but when she reached for it like she had before, it didn’t respond. Strange…
When nothing else happened, Naminé decided to keep walking. She’d just made it through the next door when she felt the floor beneath her shake, startling her. It reminded her of a heartbeat… but before she could wonder how she knew that, the walls began to shift, and soon, the whole room was too blurry to make anything out. She thought she should be dizzy from all the movement, but besides the slight vibration of the ground under her feet, all she felt was a disturbance of the air as her surroundings changed.
Eventually, the room settled down. Naminé had to rub her eyes to force herself to register what she was seeing. The walls were the same bright, spotless white as before, and the tiled floor was also unchanged. But now, there were drawings everywhere, taped to the walls and scattered across every surface, even covering sections of the floor. There was a vase on the table in the center of the room, four equally white chairs pulled up to it. The wall across from her had a set of drawn curtains that reached from floor to ceiling, but there were no windows behind them. To her left was a small cabinet with a few drawers, drawings scattered on and around it, too.
It was an almost perfect copy of her room, from the old mansion in Twilight Town. It had far more drawings than she remembered, there were two extra chairs, and the vase on the table was empty. But besides that and the missing windows, it was exactly the same as she’d left it.
Naminé didn’t know how to react. In some ways, it was the closest thing she had to a home while she was repairing Sora’s memories. She recognized every drawing, knew exactly when and why she drew each one. Most were the ones she couldn’t take with her when she left the castle. As for the rest… they were the product of her only hobby, but her time in the mansion was so miserable that not even her art could alleviate the hollow ache in her chest. She was alone more often than not, and when she wasn’t, DiZ was there to scold her for inconveniencing him with her existence. Axel showed up sometimes, but they barely interacted outside a few polite hello’s and occasionally sharing some sea salt ice cream while the group discussed whatever had to happen next. Even then, Naminé was rarely involved in the conversation.
And Riku… he was silent most of the time, though he would be in the pod room whenever he wasn’t off on missions. He was good company while Naminé worked, but she could tell he was sinking deeper into his grief for Sora every day, and it pained her to watch it happen. She constantly wished she could make the process go faster and reunite Riku with his best friend before he did something drastic, but there was nothing she could do. At one point she was working for days at a time, sleeping in the pod room when she was too tired to focus. Riku tried to get her to slow down, but she wouldn’t. Ultimately, Riku sacrificed any chance of seeing Sora as himself, and Naminé hated herself for letting it happen. If she’d just managed to bring Sora’s memory back sooner… if she hadn’t followed the Organization’s orders…
Larxene was right; all she did was ruin lives. She destroyed so many beautiful memories just because she was lonely, and the Organization told her she wouldn’t be anymore if she did it. It was all a lie, and deep down she knew it, but she was so desperate for a friend that she did it anyway.
And her punishment for her actions was the haunting memory of what she’d done. Naminé was the only one who remembered everything, even after the people she’d hurt the most were erased or forgotten. She gathered memories, and as she took the links apart and reconstructed the chains into something new, she held an echo of each memory in her own. It was what she deserved.
While she was lost in her thoughts, Naminé felt the urge to cry. But she didn’t let the tears fall, because she didn’t deserve to. That didn’t stop her from staring blankly at the drawings scattered around the room, mind drifting through every moment she captured on the pages. She didn’t even remember the warmth in her chest until it suddenly became hot, startling her out of the daze. Taking a few deep breaths, she focused on the sensation, trying not to fall into the spiraling void of her memory.
It took a while for her to pull herself out of it. Once the static in her ears cleared, the warmth returned to its previous steady hum, and she wondered what this thing settling in her chest was supposed to be. She was surprised to find it respond when she reached out this time, flickering softly like a lit candle.
Then something occurred to her. She knew what this feeling was. She’d been looking for it in the walls of the castle itself, but she hadn’t realized it was right here all along, guiding her through the darkness and comforting her when she fell apart.
The castle… It’s you. I can feel you now…
The warmth in her chest pulsed in acknowledgment. A small, sad smile spread across her face at its response. She was never able to hear a voice unique to the castle before, so she wouldn’t get any clear answers if she asked it something right now. But she had another idea, something she hadn’t done in quite some time. It was the one thing she could do right in her short existence, the only way to keep the depression plaguing her mind at bay… and it didn’t require the castle to use its own words.
The cabinet had what Naminé was looking for. Her pencils were still sharpened, and there was a full stack of blank paper in the same drawer. She took a few pages and settled in one of the less dusty chairs at the table.
Closing her eyes, Naminé focused on the warmth in her chest. With her question in mind, she called out to it again. Can you show me why I’m here? She felt the sensation grow in response, and let the familiarity of her muse wash over her. As it had countless times before, the castle swept away her lingering thoughts, all the guilt and despair neatly boxed away in some dark corner of her soul for her to deal with later. The tension in her body dissipated with it, replaced by the soothing presence of her old friend. Can I call you a friend…?
The castle didn’t answer, though she hadn’t expected it to. She knew the answer anyway; this wasn’t her home, but it was someone’s home once, and it welcomed any lost soul who would call it one. So if she considered it a friend, it was. She and the castle weren’t so different in that sense… they could be anything, because they were nothing. The warmth in her chest responded to that, as if in agreement. Though it wasn’t exactly a happy thought, Naminé found it comforting. She didn’t have to be anything at all, and neither did the castle. Together, they could just be.
It was this thought that finally broke the dam, so to speak. Naminé pressed her fingers to her temples to keep herself grounded as the echoed words of the castle flooded her mind. It was overwhelming for a moment as she readjusted to the castle’s communication style. Eventually, Naminé was able to focus just enough to catch one of the voices. It was one that the castle echoed for her many times before…
I made us good luck charms. One for each of us—
As she listened, swirls of color flashed in her mind. She opened her eyes and picked a few colors, starting with green. Soon she had a rough sketch of a tall plant she couldn’t name, its blade-like leaves and long, slender stem sprouting from a pool of water. At the end of the stem was a large, peony-like flower. It was a beautiful purple color, with a splash of yellow at the center of the blossom, white veins running through each ruffled petal. The castle seemed appreciative of her work, the warmth in her chest steady as another set of words reached her through the murmur of voices: iris ensata. She wrote the words in a blank corner of the paper, then set it off to the side.
The next voice she focused on was quieter, more of an echo compared to the first. From her time in the castle before, she knew this meant the memory it came from took place beyond these walls. With her hand pressed to her chest, she tried to tune out everything but the new voice.
—want these days to last forever. Hanging out, the ice cream, the sunsets—
Wait, that’s… She gasped. Roxas! The image that accompanied the words disappeared so quickly she had to scramble to put it to paper, messily drawn shapes coming together to form another plant she didn’t recognize. Like the last one, it was tall, with blade-like leaves at its base, though it also had multiple colorful flowers sprouting from one side of the stem. Each blossom was funnel-shaped and had five petals, colors a gradient of yellow to red-orange. They looked kind of like stars from some angles, though the colors reminded Naminé of the eternal sunset in Twilight Town. It suits him…
When she was finished, she closed her eyes again, waiting for the castle to give her another name. It took a bit of focusing to make out what it was saying, but she got it after a bit: crocosmia aurea. She labeled the drawing and set it with the first.
The last voice that stood out to her was clearer than the rest, but almost as echoey as Roxas’s was. She was able to make out complete sentences this time…
Well, there is one big advantage to being me. Something you could never imitate.
Naminé suddenly felt a wave of sadness rush over her. Riku. Something about the way the words sounded made her think this was a recent memory, and the level of detail she was able to discern from the accompanying image confirmed it. She picked up her pencils again, this time starting with her regular pencil to sketch a large white blossom with five heart-shaped petals. She used yellow for the details on each petal and a deep green for its leaves. The flower she ended up with was beautiful, pale petals almost glowing against the night sky — a background she’d added in post, as she inexplicably felt the plant belonged among the stars. Its name came to her easily: ipomoea alba.
With all three drawings complete and the warmth in her chest settling down, Naminé found herself a bit confused with the results. What do flowers have to do with me being here? She tried to ask, but the voices had already faded into silence, leaving her with even more questions than she started. For one, the castle had never given her images of flowers before. So why was it doing so now? It always showed her scenes from other people’s memories, bits and pieces of stories it witnessed or gathered from the castle’s many visitors. She supposed it was still possible that these were someone else’s memories, but something about the idea didn’t sit right with her.
Then something occurred to her. Maybe the castle used to have gardens… It made sense; whoever tended to them would’ve had extensive knowledge of plants, and the castle could’ve absorbed that information from them. The images it showed her could even be from the castle’s own memory of the flowers in those gardens. But she couldn’t know for certain, and the warmth didn’t answer when she tried to ask. I guess it doesn’t matter how the castle knows these things.
That left one major mystery. What are you trying to tell me? She picked up the first drawing again, recalling the voice that inspired it. That was one of the Keyblade wielders you told me stories about when I was here. The warmth pulsed in acknowledgment, like an affirmative hum. So then this flower… is it supposed to tell me something about her?
The doors Naminé entered through slammed open, startling her. She’d accidentally crumpled the paper a bit when she jumped. The warmth grew again, offering an apology. She pressed a hand to her chest, shaking her head mutely. It’s alright. You’re trying to show me something, aren’t you? She stood, picking up the other two drawings and glancing around the room. She was about to head for the door when something caught her eye…
The castle hadn’t just opened the doors for her. The drawer below the one she got her drawing utensils from had also been pulled out of the cabinet, spilling its contents across the floor. In it there were several journals that looked a lot like the ones Jiminy used to record Sora’s adventures in. Some of them had fallen open, and Naminé could see that unlike Jiminy’s journals, these were never used. Where did these come from? She picked up the one nearest to her — the only one that didn’t have a crown symbol on the cover — and flipped through the pages to confirm her observations. Indeed, every single one was blank. She couldn’t even sense any hidden messages like the ones she’d left in the journals for Sora to find. The castle seemed happy with her for looking through it, the warmth in her chest steady and pleasant. Do you want me to take this? The warmth grew for a moment, but with a slight sense of urgency. Okay, I heard you. Time to go.
With the journal, a pencil, and the drawings in hand, Naminé left the room. As soon the door closed behind her, she heard a whoosh on the other side. She opened it to see what had happened, and found that the room had become a hallway identical to every one before it. Is this the way you want me to go? The warmth shifted, focusing on her right wrist, like it was trying to pull her away from the door. She stepped back, and it closed again, so she simply nodded and turned around. Back the way I came, then.
…
Time passed, or maybe it didn’t. Naminé didn’t know how time worked in this castle, let alone in general, so it didn’t really matter to her either way. She simply let herself space out, the warmth in her chest a soothing presence as she walked. She hadn’t even kept track of how many doors she’d gone through; it didn’t seem important, and the castle was content to let her wander.
Naminé was so unfocused that she almost missed the floor shifting beneath her again. It didn’t startle her this time, she just stopped walking once it registered and watched as her surroundings changed once more. Marble tile became packed dirt, the walls and ceiling giving way to clouded glass, sunlight replacing the almost artificial light the castle seemed to emit. She squinted, eyes adjusting to the change.
Once her surroundings settled down, and she was able to see what it had become, it took her a moment to move. All around her were planters and pots filled with flora of all shapes and sizes, somehow still vibrant and thriving despite this castle being empty for so long. There was a pond in the center of the room, little colorful fish darting around in it, playing among the various plants that grew in the water. Polished stones surrounded the pond, and there was a small waterfall on one side of it, built into a larger stack of stones. It was a greenhouse, she realized. She’d only seen them in memories before. Despite her earlier conjecture about gardens, the room seemed impossible in a place like this. But Castle Oblivion never bothered with possibility, existing beyond the question of what was or wasn’t likely. The warmth in her chest reminded her of that, and she shook herself out of the daze, looking around the greenhouse.
Some flowers were immediately recognizable to her. The first she noticed were the tall plants with purple blossoms flourishing in the damp soil on the edge of the pond, the same iris ensata she drew earlier. Naminé carefully set down her belongings and knelt down by the water, reaching out to touch one of the flowers. As her fingers brushed the soft petals, the warmth in her chest grew, signaling for her to listen. She closed her eyes.
—
They were home, if it could even be called that anymore.
Ven had somehow opened a portal in his dormant state, and when Aqua passed through it, the Land of Departure was on the other side. Now she stood in the throne room of the ruined castle, desperately wishing she could wake up from this nightmare. Because what else could it be? Master Eraqus was dead, Terra was in trouble, and Ven wouldn’t wake up. And their home was barely recognizable, crumbling right before her eyes.
Worst of all, she had no idea how she was going to fix this, let alone protect Ven while she tried.
Well, unless… Aqua recalled what Eraqus had told her, the day she earned her Mark of Mastery.
“Now that you are a Master, there is one secret in particular you should know…”
The Keyhole… Is that really all I can do now? Aqua gently sat Ven’s sleeping body on the center throne, brushing his hair out of his face. Her heart clenched at his expression. She found no trace of the fear or resignation from earlier that day in his sleeping features. Right then, Ven just looked his age, a kid sitting peacefully on a throne that was far too big for him. It didn’t feel right to leave him here, especially in this room, but what else could she do? It wasn’t like she could access the rest of the castle, and even if she could, she didn’t know how to ensure he’d be safe anywhere but here.
Even so, Aqua wished she could take Ven to his room and tuck him into bed one last time. He and Terra were so stubborn about their training that she frequently had to step in just to get them to rest. She recalled the tired, sheepish smiles her boys would give her when she dragged them to bed — literally, sometimes; she’d grown quite a bit of muscle just from lifting the two of them for years. Before the Mark of Mastery exam, she was almost at the point where she could carry Terra from the training yard all the way back to his room without taking breaks. It often landed her with less energy the next day, but Aqua didn’t mind the exercise, because seeing her best friends well-rested each morning was always worth the effort. But now… she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get to use her strength for that again. No, don’t think like that. It’s not over yet. I just have to…
Still cradling Ven in her arms, Aqua placed a soft kiss on the sleeping boy’s forehead, then hugged him as tightly as she could. She didn’t want to let go yet. Some foolish part of her feared that if she let him out of her sight now, she’d lose him forever. But she reminded herself that it wasn’t true. He’d be right here where she left him, tucked away in the heart of the castle, waiting for her to come get him when he woke up. She just had to believe in him, and someday, he’d be able to find his way home.
This was the best choice for both of them… even if it didn’t feel like it.
She repeated those words to herself until she could let go of Ven without her heart threatening to shatter into a million pieces, carefully moving her friend into a better position as she stepped back. Once she was sure he would be comfortable, Aqua made her way past the throne, summoning her former Master’s Keyblade and forcing herself to focus.
“Just use the key, and this land will be transformed.”
Aqua took a deep breath, facing the back of the throne.
“From that day forward, all who visit this land will be lost to oblivion, none ever able to solve the mystery.”
She raised the Keyblade, causing light to burst forth from the tip, tracing the shape of a certain symbol that appeared just behind Ven’s seat: the Land of Departure’s Keyhole.
“None, Aqua, except you.”
Ven… I’ll be home soon.
Light flooded her vision as she thrust the Keyblade forward and turned it. A click followed the action, reverberating through the entire castle. The ground shook, dust and debris falling from cracks in the walls and ceiling around her. Aqua kept herself steady as the world changed form, the Keyblade in her grasp disappearing once its task was done.
Please, she pleaded to no one, keep him safe…
Aqua only had a moment to activate her armor and close her eyes before the light became blinding. A second later, the shifting floor dropped out from under her, and she fell. She was rapidly approaching the edge of the world, and she braced herself for the rippling darkness of the Ocean Between on the other side.
Warmth curled around her heart just before she fell through the magical border protecting the Land of Departure, an echo of no one answering her call…
I will.
—
Naminé inhaled sharply as her senses returned. She nearly fell into the muddy soil — she’d unknowingly leaned forward to bring herself closer to the flowers — but managed to right herself before she disturbed the pond. Black spots dotted her vision from the burst of light she’d witnessed in the memory. When she could finally see clearly again, she sat back, clutching the fabric of her dress to ground herself.
One thing at a time. That blue-haired person… her name is Aqua. The castle hummed in response. So she’s the one who sealed this place away… and her friend is Ven. Another hum, though it paused as if to say, not quite. She frowned. Is that not his name? The warmth pulsed, a fond, gentle voice entering her mind — Aqua’s voice. “Ventus.”
Oh, Ven is a nickname. I get it now, thank you. Naminé swore she felt the smallest hint of… something. An idea more than an actual sensation, that reminded her of — a pat on the shoulder? She laughed lightly, a little surprised, wondering if it learned that from one of the castle’s former inhabitants. It seemed like the castle was still figuring out how to interact with her, but she didn’t mind. It was comforting, to know that it was trying. She heard a distant sound, something like bells or wind chimes, a bright and happy tone that reminded her of her Somebody’s laughter. Kairi… She smiled at the thought, but didn’t let it go any further. There was no time for nostalgia at the moment.
So their names are Aqua and Ventus. She looked down at the drawings. The third person in the trio is Terra. An affirmative hum echoed in her mind. And their Master’s name was Eraqus. Was he the one who took care of this greenhouse? She couldn’t see it, but she felt the castle nod. Somehow.
That led her to her next question, one she hoped the castle didn’t mind her asking…
And your name… it’s not Castle Oblivion at all, is it?
The castle didn’t respond in any discernible way. The warmth was steady in her chest, and the room was silent besides the sounds of the pond. It was as much an answer as any. Maybe it didn’t have a name, and Castle Oblivion was just the label the Organization gave it when they were here. The Land of Departure sounded more like a title for a world than for the castle itself. But then… what am I supposed to call you? Is it really alright that you don’t have a name?
The warmth wrapped itself around her again, comforting as ever. Naminé sighed, then nodded. Okay. She supposed there wasn’t much she could do. It bothered her, to know that someone she called a friend didn’t have a name of their own. It wouldn’t be the first time she felt uncomfortable with the idea, but she was really hoping it would be the last. The warm embrace of the castle squeezed her gently (could it do that?) before retreating to her chest, letting her take a moment to collect herself.
I shouldn’t dwell on the past… not when there’s something I can do to help. That’s why I’m here, right? Naminé pressed a hand to the warmth, feeling it hum pleasantly in response. Her eyes drifted to the drawings again. And these flowers are the key to figuring out what that something is. She gathered her belongings in her lap, taking a second to smooth out the drawing of iris ensata, then used the journal as a surface while she wrote down the name of the person the flower represented. She did the same for the other two drawings, the castle whispering to her as she wrote, giving her what she assumed were the common names for each flower. Naminé wrote those down, too:
Iris ensata - “Water iris”
Aqua
Crocosmia aurea - “Falling stars”
Roxas
Ipomoea alba - “Moonflower”
Riku
Nodding to herself, Naminé shifted to stand, intending to look around for the other two flowers. But the warmth in her chest suddenly flickered. She froze, and when the castle didn’t say or show her anything, she simply settled in by the pond again to wait. She had just started counting the number of fish in the water when she heard the castle again.
Ventus… lost to oblivion…
Naminé struggled to hear, the words almost too broken to discern. The voices overlapped and collided in her mind as she listened. She knew why; the castle was patching together words it had heard before, something it had done in the past to communicate with her. Taking her pencil and flipping to the first page of the journal, she wrote down what she was able to make out. Then, she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, concentrating as much as she could on the castle’s words.
…this land… transformed. The castle was repeating Eraqus’s words, his voice overlapping with Aqua’s. Maybe… are you trying to tell me something about this world? The warmth in her chest pulsed softly, encouraging her. Okay. She shifted into a more comfortable position, legs folded under her so she could rest the journal on them while she wrote. I’m ready.
…ready. Her own thoughts echoed back at her. It was a little eerie, but it made what came next far easier to handle. The voices suddenly became louder, more distinct than before. She listened intently.
…moments memorized… forever. Xion’s voice was as clear as it was when she was still here. Naminé clutched the journal tighter as she wrote, trying not to lose focus. —hearts… captured… with Sora. —need you… set them free.
That caught her off guard. She paused her writing to think about what the castle meant, but the voices stopped short, the warmth in her chest suddenly disappearing. She shook her head, trying to convey that she was still listening to the castle. The warmth returned soon after.
Power… you… Sora… Riku… key… Several voices spoke, and Naminé had to stifle her gasp. Me? And… them? But how? Despite her confusion, the castle didn’t pause, forcing her to scramble to get everything down.
Land… sleeping… The cacophony of voices grew so indistinct that Naminé had to pause her note-taking. The castle noticed, warmth pulsing softly in apology as it tried to collect itself. Slowly, the voices harmonized, something she’d never heard before.
Naminé…
She tried not to jump at the sound of her own name, spoken by a voice she was sure she’d never heard before. It was warm, but insistent… and suddenly, she realized that this was the castle’s true voice. Suppressing her excitement as much as she could, Naminé nodded, encouraging the castle to continue.
Call… hearts… here. Naminé stopped writing, eyes fluttering shut as her excitement shifted into confusion. How am I supposed to call anyone when I don’t have a heart of my own? Her chest ached at the confession. I’m a Nobody. I don’t… my emotions aren’t even real.
The castle mirrored her confusion, its gentle voice returning to her like the sea to the shore — it felt so natural that she distantly wondered why she’d never heard it like this before.
But… hearts… connect. Naminé shook her head, tears welling up behind her closed eyelids. It’s not like that for Nobodies. We can’t connect the way Somebodies can. We just… remember what it was like, and mimic it. She knew this. Everyone knew this. She couldn’t be real, none of her perceived emotions could be real, and none of her actions mattered. Only the mistakes remain… and perhaps the only reason why she was still here at all was that she was one of them.
The warmth flickered again, then grew, the soft sound of bells accompanying the sensation. A prickle of anxiety ran down Naminé’s spine, cutting through the carefully constructed peace she’d only just managed to achieve. Why are you laughing…? Her hands began to shake in the brief silence that followed. But then the voice spoke again, apologetic, but amused.
Hearts… are made… of memories… Naminé.
Everything came to a halt. Her mind went blank, trying to process the words. The warmth grew slowly, comforting her just enough to ease her out of it, if only for a moment.
But that would mean… anything that has memories also has a heart. The castle hummed lightly. A question Naminé was pretty sure she didn’t want the answer to crept into her thoughts. But she had to know. There was no other choice.
Including a Nobody like me?
There was a beat of silence as the warmth flickered. Naminé tried not to read into it too much, anxiously waiting for the castle’s response.
Naminé… always… had… a heart. Connection… cannot… exist… without hearts. Castle… heart… connects… with your heart. So… you have… a heart.
She took a deep, shaking breath. The castle’s words made sense, but… they brought one more question to mind. She could handle this.
Did they have hearts, too?
She doesn’t need to elaborate; the castle knows who she’s talking about.
Yes… they do.
No. No. Please tell me you’re joking…
The castle didn’t respond.
Naminé trembled, pencil slipping from her hands into the dirt. They can’t… I can’t… She couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They slipped from her eyes, though she was still silent. The warmth was gone, replaced by cold darkness that crept through her veins and blurred her vision. Trying to comfort herself, she pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them, the journal falling to the side with the movement.
Everything they told me… was a lie. How long…? Her chest felt close to bursting. Faces of people she’d sworn to remember flashed before her eyes, and she squeezed them shut, pressing her face into her knees as hard as she could. It hurt, and her legs and dress were getting wet, but she didn’t care. Roxas… Axel… Xion… the Riku Replica… they all had their own hearts? And I… I ruined their lives. I shattered Riku’s heart. And Roxas and Xion are gone forever. All of them— Despair threatened to overcome her, pouring from her eyes in salty streams of misery. Her chest ached through every muffled sob, perhaps because her own heart was shattering under the weight of a new realization: I killed them. I killed them. I’m a monster… a witch… I shouldn’t be here, I can’t save anyone. I’m just a selfish girl who ruined lives because I was lonely… because I was stupid…
Her thoughts barely made sense anymore, spiraling further and further into the darkness clouding her mind, dragging her heart down with it. The sunlight made her head pound when she opened her eyes, her vision growing darker and darker at the edges every time she tried to wipe away the tears. She didn’t fight the chill that overcame her, not even as it chased away what little warmth she had left.
Distantly, she heard the castle speaking to her again. Its voice was frantic, trying to bring her back to reality, but she didn’t let herself listen. She didn’t deserve to. The static in her ears drowned everything else out as numbness spread throughout her body, beginning in her chest and radiating outwards.
She let go, slipping through the cracks in her heart.
Falling… falling… into darkness…
…where I belong.
…
There was no sensation in the darkness. No pain, no cold, just nothing.
Naminé didn’t fight it.
She didn’t… but something else did.
Something was holding on to her heart, refusing to let her slip into nothingness. As soon as she sensed it, she could hear again. Endless static filled her mind, only to be broken by a familiar voice, calling for her…
Well, not her. But someone she was part of.
Kairi!
Sora sounded bright and warm as always. Naminé wanted to smile…
She didn’t.
The numbness crept into her heart again. She welcomed it. Stop, she pleaded to whatever was still tethering her to existence. Don’t save me…
But it refused.
Sora’s voice rang out again, dragging her from the static.
We’re coming home, Kairi…!
The pain that brought her here returned in full force. It was torture. She wanted to cry. Desperately, she reached for the darkness, willing the presence that pulled her away from it to let go of her already. Just let me disappear…
There was silence for a moment, dragging out long enough to give her hope that she’d finally broken the hold on her bruised heart. But then a new voice cut through the fluctuating static of the void.
Sorry, I can’t do that.
The static disappeared completely. No… She reached for it, but it was gone. Her heart threatened to collapse under the weight of her agony. Please…
Naminé… The voice called for her again. She struggled against their hold, her entire being screaming for her to run, hide, make it stop—
Naminé!
Suddenly, the pain was gone. Naminé stopped fighting, unexpected relief flooding through the cracks in her heart. The unseen force tethering her to existence didn’t let up, though, pulling her towards them.
I’ve got you, they whispered. The sound of their voice swept away the last bit of fog clouding her senses. Everything is going to be okay.
Warm arms wrapped around her. Ignoring the part of herself that still yearned for the darkness, she weakly returned the hug. Why…?
Because you’re not alone. Not anymore. Their arms tightened around her, and she had the urge to cry again. You’re more loved than you know, Naminé.
It took some calming down, but eventually, she was able to ask the first question on her mind. Who are you?
I’m just a lost soul. She felt them shrug before they pulled away, then took her hands in theirs. Their fingers were calloused but soft as they interlocked with hers. We’ve never met directly, but I’ve been part of you and Roxas since the beginning. You could say we’re… heart siblings? They laughed, sounding a bit awkward. Sorry, that probably sounds super weird coming from a total stranger.
It’s okay… I kind of feel like I’ve known you for a while. She paused. …Roxas, too?
Yeah! You know, Roxas looks almost exactly like me. Their voice was jovial. Naminé just felt confused. What? Can’t you see me? It’s pretty obvious.
Oh… For a moment, she was embarrassed, thinking her eyes had been closed the whole time. But then she realized they were open, it was just impossible to see in the darkness. No, I can’t see you. Sorry…
It’s alright! My fault for not realizing it sooner. The voice was closer, and suddenly she felt a forehead pressed against hers. It was strangely comforting. Is this okay? She nodded slightly, their hair tickling her skin with the motion. A friend taught me once that sometimes, all you need to cut through the darkness is a connection. So like this… maybe you’ll be able to see me with your heart.
Their fingers squeezed hers where they were intertwined, encouraging her to try again. Naminé closed her eyes and tried to imagine her new friend’s appearance. The image of a white flowering tree crossed her mind. Each of the blossoms on its branches had five rounded petals. She smelled something sweet as she pictured it, something like fruit or honey.
A tree…? Her eyes fluttered open, though she still couldn’t see anything. But… I’m not in the castle.
They shook their head, smile apparent in their voice. I don’t think the castle had anything to do with that. That was all you, Naminé.
But I don’t know anything about plants.
You don’t need to, to see my heart. They paused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. Do you want to know what I see when I look at your heart?
She nodded minutely.
I see a small flower with a long stem and narrow leaves. It’s pale blue and has five rounded petals. I think it’s the kind of flower that only blooms for one day before wilting… It’s pretty. I don’t know what its name is, but I think it suits you.
Do you know what it means?
No, sorry. Flowers weren’t really my thing… but one of my best friends used to spend a ton of time learning about them. He loved taking care of the greenhouses with our Master…
Suddenly, Naminé knew exactly who she was talking to. She leaned back, trying (unsuccessfully) to see them in the darkness.
…Ventus?
You know who I am? They — or rather, he — sounded surprised, but a little excited at the same time. The castle told you about me, didn’t it? I knew it remembered!
But… I thought you were asleep. I saw one of Aqua’s memories… she left you to rest in some sort of throne room. How are you awake? Naminé frowned.
Ventus raised their joined hands in excitement. That’s just my body! I’ve been trying to find my way home, but… well… my heart is part of someone else’s right now. I can’t separate myself from him on my own, and I can’t feel Aqua and Terra’s hearts anymore… but I can feel yours, and you can hear the castle! Maybe with its help, you can find my body and use our connection to call my heart back. Then we can meet for real!
Naminé could tell he was grinning from ear to ear, but it wasn’t enough to stop the sudden anxiety she felt hearing his words. I… I don’t know if I can. She didn’t understand why he and the castle were so confident in her ability to help.
Of course you can! You just have to believe in yourself. He let go of her hands, holding her by the shoulders instead. You’re stronger than you know. And remember what I said before? You’re loved. You have friends who will believe in you, even when you don’t think you’ve earned it. And that includes me now, okay?
Tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to say something, but she was too choked up to respond. Ventus wrapped her in another hug, surprising a hiccup out of her.
We’re out of time. Someone’s here to save you. Naminé’s arms tightened around him. Hey, this isn’t goodbye! We’ll meet again sometime soon. But before I go… promise you won’t let yourself fall into the darkness again?
Still too overwhelmed to say anything, Naminé nodded into his shoulder. Ventus gave her one last squeeze before he pulled away.
She wanted to ask him to stay, but when she reached for him again, her hand only met empty air.
Moments later, the sound of a door opening drew her attention upward. The source of the noise looked like a star, chasing away the darkness of the void, an increasingly powerful light trailing down from it in a spiral. Then, as the light reached her, she felt an unfamiliar pressure around her wrist, pulling her up towards the star. She tried to focus her gaze on whatever was holding her, but all she saw was a flash of grey and pink before the blinding light forced her eyes shut. Her senses began to fade, a telltale sign that she was about to black out.
Vaguely, she registered Ventus speaking to her again.
Naminé! I almost forgot…
Summoning the last of her energy, she reached for his voice, smiling when she felt his hand wrap around her own.
We’re friends now. So you can call me Ven! He squeezed her hand, holding on just a little longer before slipping out of her grasp. No matter what happens… I know you’ll find a way to reach me. I believe in you, Naminé.
She nodded, her heart full.
Thank you… Ven.