Chapter Text
“But one day, she was gone, just like that. I think the grown-ups knew the reason. They might even have tried to explain some of it to me. But I was little. I probably didn’t understand what was happening. I remember crying after she was gone.”
– Sora, Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories
Naminé’s hands moved across the blank page in her sketchbook, creating the clear blue sky, the curved trunk of the paopu tree, and the beautiful, fragrant flowers of her island. Years had passed since she last heard the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, felt the water rushing against her legs and sand slipping beneath her feet. She could still remember Kairi’s laughter and how they would sit together while Sora and Riku pretended to fight with their swords. The drawing contests and the sleepovers they’d shared. The time they tried painting pictures with her mother’s nail polish. The way Kairi always rushed to her defense whenever someone teased her.
She remembered that big fight that she’d had with Riku when she thought he might leave her behind to go on adventures to other worlds. His confidence that he could watch out for the rest of them if they ever got into trouble. He and Sora always tried to outdo each other in everything they did, but he didn’t act that way around her. If there was something she didn’t know how to do, he’d drop everything to show her, and never mocked her for it.
And she remembered Sora.
Naminé lowered her brown colored pencil to give her wrist a break. Her eyes were drawn to the walls of her small room. Once, they’d been as white and bare as the pages of her sketchbooks. Now, they were covered with pictures she’d made of the Islands and her best friends, spread out from the floor to the ceiling. She shifted her body away from one picture in particular: the one that showed her holding hands with Sora while they watched the meteor shower that brought Kairi to their world.
She still remembered his smile and the way he’d waved his toy sword in the air as he declared, “If a shooting star comes this way, I’ll hit it right back into outer space! Like THIS! I’ll always protect you. No matter what.” And she’d given him her lucky charm because she’d stupidly believed him.
Outside her room, at the furthest end of the hallway, came the steady sound of footsteps. Naminé pressed herself up against the wall next to her bed. Though her arm muscles tensed, she kept drawing the paopu tree. She’d learned that they didn’t care what pictures she sketched in her spare time, as long as she followed their orders when the time came.
The footsteps stopped outside her door, which slid open without a sound. Naminé raised her head just enough to see the new arrival. They all wore the same black coats that trailed down to their feet, and sometimes they pulled their hoods up so that she couldn’t see their faces. But today, her visitor wore his hood down, revealing his silver hair and golden eyes. Her body tensed even more. Their leader never came to visit her, yet there he stood.
“Hello, Naminé.” Her visitor smiled at her. Naminé shivered. His tone sounded polite, but she knew better than to mistake his manners for kindness.
“Hello,” she whispered.
“I greeted you by name, and yet you don’t extend me the same courtesy?”
Naminé swallowed. “I’m sorry…Lord Xemnas.”
“Very good. I accept your apology.”
He entered her room and pulled up a chair next to her bed. Naminé drew her knees together and went back to coloring the trunk of the paopu tree. But her hands only went through the motions. She made jagged marks on the page, unable to stay within the lines that she’d drawn. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Xemnas gazing at the pictures that decorated her walls. “What lovely drawings,” he remarked, “It’s good to see that you’ve made yourself comfortable in this room.”
Naminé brushed her hair over the side of her face so that he couldn’t see her glaring at her lap.
“Who is this?”
Xemnas reached out to peel one of the drawings away from the wall. Naminé looked at it and cringed. Of all the hundreds of sketches she’d made, he’d picked the one of the meteor shower. And when she didn’t answer him right away, he asked again, “Who is this, Naminé?”
“A friend,” she answered quickly.
“Yes, I can see that.” Xemnas gestured to the walls all around them. “You’ve drawn him so many times. Someone from your islands, I presume?”
Naminé nodded.
“What is his name?”
She gripped the sides of her sketchbook. Something was wrong. They never asked her questions about Destiny Islands, or her friends and family. They’d never had a reason to care before.
“You see, several of my colleagues thought your friend looked familiar and brought these drawings to my attention. He bears a strong resemblance to a boy that we have been watching very closely, the hero who can wield the Keyblade.”
Her chest tightened. She took slow, deep breaths to stay calm.
“Who knows? Perhaps they are the same person. So, I will ask you again, and I expect an answer: what is your friend’s name?”
Naminé could feel his eyes on her. She kept her gaze fixed on the drawing of the paopu tree in her lap. It was the same tree where she’d loved to sit with her friends.
“Sora,” she whispered.
A triumphant smile spread across his face. “Interesting. The same name as the Keyblade Master.” He paused for a moment. “Do you think- if they are the same person- he would be distressed to know that we are keeping you here?”
Don’t worry, Naminé!
I’ll protect you! I promise!
Acid churned in her stomach. “No,” she admitted, “He won’t come. He doesn’t remember me anymore.”
Xemnas chuckled. “But that would not be a problem for someone with your abilities. You could bring his memories back, couldn’t you?”
She could. They both knew it. He didn’t have to ask. She didn’t want to do it, but that wouldn’t matter to the Organization.
“I already have a plan in mind and I would appreciate your full cooperation,” he continued, “We will be taking you to our second headquarters in Castle Oblivion. I have placed Marluxia in charge, to act in my stead while I remain here. You will do exactly what he tells you to do, as if his orders were coming from me. Do you understand?”
Naminé nodded.
“Good. We will see for ourselves if Sora cares enough to try and rescue you.”
Naminé struggled to keep back her tears and managed to do so until the sound of his footsteps died away. A few splotches landed on her sketchbook. She stared at her drawing of the empty paopu tree and thought back to one of the games that they’d played so often on the Islands.
“Let’s pretend that Naminé’s the princess and we have to save her! ”
Sora always came running to rescue her, even though it was just a game. But this wasn’t a game. The Organization wasn’t pretending that she was in danger. Worst of all, she’d never needed to remind Sora of why he might want to help her. Or Kairi. Riku still remembered her, but he'd allowed darkness to corrupt his heart and destroy their home.
She didn’t know what would happen if any of them came for her, or all three of them together. She did know that it didn’t matter if they tried. The Organization wanted Sora’s powers. They would use her as bait to lure him to their castle whether she liked it or not.
And this time, she didn’t think it would end in the way that her friends’ childhood games always did.