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Oblivion; it was a word the witch grew used to hearing. She had grown up believing that that was all there was to life. Nobody would remember her peeking into their memories, because she wished them not to. At least, that’s what her memories told her. But who was to say that she hadn’t changed them herself?
(Does anyone really know? What I feel? Does anyone know my story?)
Her time in Castle Oblivion had changed her views. There was no good or evil, only cruelty and kindness; there was only grayscale. Her cries had echoed loudly around the empty white room. She used to see white as kindness, happiness. Now, all it was… it felt like emptiness.
(Nobody will care about someone who pulled their life out from under their feet.)
Then there was Roxas. When he left, nothing felt right. She hadn’t realized that in hurting him, she hurt herself.
(In the end something lingered in her mind.)
She felt whole around him, as stupid and corny as it sounded. His partial heart, the one he had “inherited”, she so begrudgingly explained to Marluxia as she shuffled Sora’s memories, putting her own pieces together. She needed to know her place. Maybe… some things really are… better left unsaid.
(She never said goodbye.)
She felt so unbelievably stupid, working against his Somebody. She was supposed to love both of them, or at least, that was how it was supposed to go. Her Somebody loved Sora; she was supposed to fall for Roxas. She felt guilty, pulling strings, she was astounded to notice. She felt something; not just an echo. Her work was almost finished.
(Why should she? He’s right there… isn’t he?)
She had finally finished, every piece falling apart and unravelling. The Organization, on the other hand, had a change of plans. They captured her Somebody, luring Sora, and… she combined with Kairi. Roxas had combined with Sora, as she figured out upon seeing him again.
(Nothing’s the same, though. He knows what I did.)
Roxas didn’t care though. He knew what his heart said, finally, with one to give; he loved her.