Work Text:
Xion vaults from a towering rock, her form climbing over the open field beneath her. Riku’s Fira burns past her, her exposed abdomen spared as the magic just skims her skin.She turns mid air, aiming her keyblade at him, and a flurry of amber lights burst from the end of Seconds to Sunset.
Riku raises a barrier to deflect the attack but he’s a moment too late; Bright lights hit his arms, drowning him in a twilight glow. He stagges as Xion rolls into her landing; graceful.
The students watching their demonstration gasp, awed.
Riku flourishes Mirage Split and charges towards Xion in a blur. He swings down, Xion blocks. They struggle against each other, faces inches apart as they push their keyblades. The show of strength and might earns them both the bated breaths of their students, and their eventual exhale is loud when Xion manages to push Riku back. He falters, finds his balance again, and they lock eyes.
They circle each other for a moment, daylight caught in the metal of their blades as each master flourishes their blade. Xion crouches, preparing for a jump. Riku takes a stance, his grip on his blade tight.
Xion surges forward, swinging low; Seconds to Sunset meets Mirage Split with a loud ringing of metal. The two struggle against each other again, then proceed into a series of parries, light bursting with each clashing counter. Riku and Xion’s faces are lit with blues, pinks, red, yellows and more - Frantic brushstrokes of light against their cheeks and leaving highlights in their hair.
Xion dodges low as Riku swings across, Mirage Split a mere moment above her head. Seconds to Sunset blurs from her left hand and reappears in her right as she steps forward underneath Riku’s outstretched arm. Her foot digs into the ground, her head turns; Riku cannot move fast enough to counter or dodge, and Seconds to Sunset strikes his back.
He falls with a shout, fiery light bursting from the impact on his back. The students around them cheer with excitement, awed by Xion and Riku’s display. Xion turns, proud, and taps her keyblade at Riku’s neck; teasing.
“Payback?” Riku huffs, but not unkindly. He looks over his shoulder and Xion can see his bemused smirk.
“Payback.” Xion confirms, chuckling. She offers her hand to Riku and he takes it, and she helps him up. She’d smile at him, but her eyes are looking past his shoulder, into the distance -
Namine waves at her. Her sketchbook lies on her lap, open to a page Xion will be asking to see later. But she doesn’t think much on that - Thinks instead of that brilliant far away smile, the one she hopes every day is just for her.
“As always, your skill with the keyblade is one to admire.”
Xion looks up from her dinner plate, a piece of bread broken off and between her lips. Her smile to Namine is lopsided, goofy. Namine grins and sits down beside her, settling her own plate down.
“And to envy, I hope?” Xion says after she swallows down the bread. Namine snorts quietly.
“I don’t need a keyblade to win a fight. Especially against you, Xion,” She says. There’s a hum. A smirk. “Haven’t I proved that enough times already?”
Xion chokes on nothing. She clears her throat, looks away sheepishly, and stills her heart. She can still see the smirk on Namine’s lips beside her, and, Heart above - She knows the triumph and pride on Namine’s face when it comes to her strengths will never cease to bring her heart to a rapid beat.
“How is your training coming along, anyhow?” Xion says instead once she recollects her self. She spares a glance in Namine’s why, spies the humored curve on her lips. Stares.
“Great, actually.” Namine’s fingers intertwine with each other and she rests her chin on them. Xion observes the soft skin, the sky blue painted nails. The slender curve of Namine’s lips as she speaks. She’s wearing a softer pink gloss today. “Aqua will be recommending me to Donald in a few months, and then after I finish my studies with him I’ll be formally tested and then receive my mastery and I’ll be back to traveling.”
Xion’s eyes dart to meet Namine’s.
“Oh.”
When Namine moved into the Forecourt at the Land of Departure, she had asked Xion to show her around. There was a secret she wanted to tell her, Namine had said, as Xion led her through brightly light halls.
“Do you remember the place you were born?” Namine hummed, stepping forward as her eyes swept over the frescoes painted on the ceiling. Xion observed the awed expression in her face; Subtle, but there. “Castle Oblivion?”
“Of course.” Xion said, frowning just slightly. She didn’t have many good memories of that time - Didn’t have many memories of it to begin with. “I don’t remember much, though. Why?”
“Because,” Namine turned to her, her grin widening as she stretched her arms and gestured towards the entirety of the hall - and, Xion figured - the entirety of Departure. “This is the same place you were born in.”
Xion stopped, brows raised as Namine’s words hit her. The other had taken her hands, looked up, and Xion followed the gesture.
She doesn’t remember what the ceiling looked like when she had been born - Most of that time had been a blur. The earliest memory she had was that of being presented to the Organization as its newest member.
But to be able to think of Departure as her birthplace, to replace the long-gone memories of Castle Oblivion with the impressions she had first made when she arrived here as Aqua’s newest apprentice years ago brought a smile to Xion’s face.
“If I had my paints on me right now, the moment your face lit up would’ve made the perfect painting.”
Xion laughed sheepishly, pulling her hands away to hide the flush on her face.
Much of Namine’s time on the Land of Departure had been like that; Fleeting moments shared with Xion in between her training with Aqua and Xion’s classes of the newer wielders. They sought each other out in their free time, whenever they could, no matter where the other was.
“Namine’s probably at the courtyard right now,” Aqua would often tell Xion.
“Last I saw Xion, she was at the library,” Terra had often told Namine.
“I’m begging you two, please just memorize each other’s schedules,” is Ventus’ most consistent response to either of them. Usually it’s met with matching flustered exclaims and protests.
On the days when they have control of their own time, when no classes are being held or sparring matches being cheered for, Xion and Namine often find themselves in various locations around the Land of Departure. Xion would carry for Namine her easel, her paints, and Namine would let Xion watch her work.
There had been a time, earlier on, when Namine asked Xion what she thought of her work.
Xion had thought carefully; The easiest thing would be to simply say they’re beautiful, but the paintings on their own deserve something more substantial. And for Namine, they may as well demand speeches.
All of them - the landscapes, the scenes of people, the portraits - all share a distinct style that hinges both on color and the way the strokes have been placed. They’re simultaneously blurry and clear, and Xion can’t help but think of them as impressions ; Fleeting moments and memories captured before the next one takes its place, then the next, and so on.
The colors blend into each other formlessly, though the transitions between one color and the next aren’t smooth at all. They’re deliberate, sometimes softer and sometimes harder, but each press of color against the canvas underneath proudly displays a kind of care that is less thought out and more - felt.
And perhaps that is what adds brilliance to the paintings; Feelings that are committed to memory before they flee, only to be replaced by another.
But when came the time for Xion to speak to Namine and air her thoughts, she blanked.
“Sorry, I,” Xion laughed weakly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “They’re beautiful, Namine.”
And she was not disappointed in the slightest, finding only amusement in the awestruck expression on Xion’s face.
Sparring matches against Sora are perhaps some of the most brilliant displays of combat. Xion and Sora fight with different stages of the sun; Where Sora’s attacks and magic are relentless and demanding of attention, his presence in combat akin to the sun at its highest point in the sky, Xion’s style is simultaneously careful and instantaneous, announcing herself suddenly like the cusp of late afternoon and evening. Their keyblades meet often, producing rays of light that account for every stage of the sun as it progresses through the day.
They are both strongest with Fira; The spell and its successors burst from them in their own unique flourishes, stylized in such ways that one can always tell that the bright yellow flames are Sora’s while the flickering orange sparks are Xion’s.
Most of their matches end in a draw. Today, it ends with Xion as its victor, and Sora is cheerful when he promises that he’ll win the next one.
Xion spies Namine at the edge of the training grounds, her eyes glued to a page in her sketchbook and a mess of watercolors sitting beside her. When she visits Namine’s later that day, there is a fresh canvas on the easel, and a palette prepped with warm hues of reds, yellows, and orange.
“Good night , Xion.” Namine says firmly, stepping between the narrow space between the door and its frame. “You know the rules. You’re not allowed to see anything until it’s done.”
Xion pouts and leans on the doorframe. She looks over Namine - She’s taller enough that she can still see over Namine’s head easily, and Namine knows this. She gets on her toes, raises her chin, but all in vain - Xion can still see, and, oh. Her curiosity is eating at her.
“Just a peek?”
Namine pulls the door closer to its frame; The space narrows. “No.”
Xion pouts even more. Her eyes lower and there’s a split second of a moment when she glimpses at Namine’s lips. The soft pink gloss again today. She’s come to know it - She’s sure that even if Namine were to wear another with a near-similar shade, Xion would still be able to tell the difference.
There are words that threaten to come past her lips; Words that have waited months since Namine had moved to Departure. But the end of Namine’s stay draws ever near and Xion cannot find it in herself to force her lack of bravery against her intense longing.
There is something between them.
Xion purses her lips. Namine shifts her weight to another foot. “Goodnight, then, Namine.”
Namine smiles, sweet and beautiful and radiant. “Goodnight, Xion.”
The door closes, Xion remains leaning against the frame. For all of Namine’s talk of artworks, Xion wonders if Namine knew that she herself is a masterpiece of a painting.
She never gets a chance to see that one painting - Xion’s told it’ll be a work in progress for a while. There’s no disappointment in Xion’s reaction, just more curiosity, but Namine insists she cannot (and will not ) show her.
That’s fine. So long as she does not see any less of Namine.
Her departure hangs in the distance.
“Where would you go next?” Xion asks her, arms folded behind her head as she lies down on Namine’s bed, eyes gazing out through the window at the dimming sky.
Namine has her back to Xion, her focus solely on her newest painting. She has some pictures from her gummi phone arranged and taped around the easel, printed for her by Riku when he had run to Radiant Garden to purchase some paints- also for her.
Namine hums thoughtfully from where she sits, fingers brushing at various pictures until she picks one out. “Corona, I think. Sora’s been wanting to introduce me to Rapunzel for a while now, and I’ve been told she’s an artist herself. It’ll be nice to paint with her, I think.”
Xion turns over to her side, eyes falling on Namine. Her gaze traces her back, slowly, thoughtfully, then she turns it to the canvas in front of her. She can’t see much lying down, so she gets on her elbows and strains her neck some.
“What are you working on?” She asks her, leaning on one elbow and resting her chin on her hand.
Namine hums again. “Painting of someone.”
“Anyone I know?”
Namine turns her head slightly in Xion’s way. Xion can catch a small glimpse of her smile; coy. “Yes, but you’re not allowed to see it until it’s finished, so I will have to ask you to leave.”
“Do you want me to?”
“Of course not.”
Xion bites her lip. “I feel the same way.”
She watches as Namine’s shoulders tense somewhat. There is a moment when Xion counts one, two breaths.
“You know, it’s been almost ten months since I’ve moved here,” Namine says slowly, her shoulders relaxing some as she picks up a brush and sketches a vague image. There is something shaky about her hand. “I’ll be leaving soon.”
Xion nods mutely. She swings her leg over the edge of Namine’s bed, sits up.
“And I know you have responsibilities here, but maybe you’d like to join me for a trip one day? Even a short one, maybe. After I’ve received my mastery.”
Namine looks over her shoulder tentatively.
“I know it’s a lot of time to wait, but - “
Xion cuts her off with a smile, shrugging. “I’ll think on it.”
Her heart drops the second she leaves the room.
Namine progresses further with her magic; Soon enough, she’s able to match wits against Aqua. The first sparring match she wins, Xion uses her joy to stamp down the worries that puddle in her chest.
Before long, she’s helping Namine pack up her canvases, her easels. There is one moment where Namine asks if Xion would like to keep one -
“Any one of them. I won’t mind,” she says, her voice sweet and her fingers curled gently around Xion’s.
“It’s okay.” Xion replies, voice quiet and eyes focused on Namine’s hand in hers. She lets go, turns to the rest of the items in Namine’s room. “We should finish up soon. Donald gets cranky if you’re a minute too late.”
Never mind that something about the Land of Departure is empty once Namine’s gummi ship takes off. Never mind that the white walls, though filled with so much life, are too empty and colorless for Xion. Nevermind that she regrets not asking for one canvas, one spot of color.
The frescoes on the ceilings of the Forecourt are nothing like Namine’s paintings; They are tight, boastful. Gilded images of holy knights wielding giant keys and protecting various images of Kingdom Hearts and worlds.
There is no feeling behind these works, none except the desire to display keyblade wielders with extravagance. Xion longs to see what Namine colors a feeling; She longs for the impressions her works leave her, a softness that is more true to the nature of the heart than to the life of its guardian. She longs to watch Namine press her brushes gently against fresh canvas, to embody with paint the emotions that cannot be explained through words alone.
She longs for Namine, but she is far away, and will be traveling again soon, and Xion longs to know when she might be able to see her again - perhaps just once, perhaps just for a fleeting moment. Perhaps just enough for Namine to leave fast-fading impressions on Xion’s skin, sky painted nails pressing softly into the calloused palms of Xion’s hands.
It’s the middle of the night when Xion’s gummiphone chimes loudly, announcing the arrival of a text.
She squints against the blaringly bright screen of her phone, but smiles nonetheless at what is reveals to her. Namine’s sent her a text - An image taken of Pluto snoozing away in King Mickey’s castle, undisturbed.
Xion isn’t sure what makes her happier - That Namine knows that Xion adores Pluto, or that she even thought to text her.
There’s a short message along with the image, popping up just moments after the image was sent.
Miss you!
So Xion sends a reply - Short, not quite thought out. It’s hours after midnight and hours before dawn and she needs to sleep, but her simple message of ‘ thats cute. Say hi for me’ starts a conversation of varying topics that soon turn into weeks of late night texts. Xion doesn’t mind; She’d never mind.
She lies in her covers, her plush blankets, her comforted smile illuminated by the soft blue light of her phone screen, and she learns a great many things.
King Mickey’s gifted Namine with a room fit for a princess, with large windows that overlook the landscape that sprawls outside the castle. New brushes and freshly assembled canvases are many and at her disposal.
Pluto accompanies her wherever she goes, though he is obedient enough to stay out of the way when she’s too busy to give him immediate attention. He’s become a sort of cheerleader to her when Donald is training her. On his worst days, Pluto makes warning barks at Donald, which the mage immediately takes note of and apologizes to Namine.
Namine’s first ball is an experience she struggles to type into words. There are some pictures sent to make up for it, but even so they are few - It’s a ball, after all. Namine wasn’t going to have many opportunities to take her phone out and record everything.
(There is an appearance made by Kairi during the event, which Namine was more than happy to talk about. They had worn matching dresses; Both were drowned in ivory fabrics, soft and flowing and exposing their shoulders and curving over their busts in a sweetheart neckline. Kairi had been accented with soft pink ribbons and warm colored flowers, while Namine’s accents were soft blues and golden stars and blue hydrangeas.)
(Xion had seen the pictures of their outfits on Kingstagram. Needless to say, Xion wish she had been there.)
Namine tells her more, and Xion learns everything. Goofy has a son named Max, who in a year will be completing his basic training and will advance further, to eventually reach a rank close to Goofy’s own in the royal guard. His wife, Sylvia, is also a mage, though she spends most of her time caring for the royal library and making sure all of the books are in perfect condition.
Despite being enthralled by all of this new information, despite enjoying hearing Namine enthusiastically share bits of her current life away, Xion only ever wonders and ask:
How are you?
And each time, Xion would wait a moment for a reply. She counts the seconds before the tell-tale typing animation appears, counts how long it is there, and only when she receives a response does she exhale; sighing heavily.
Tonight is no different.
I never know how to answer that, honestly.
Xion pouts at the message.
?
nvm, haha. Just being dramatic. Don’t worry abt it, I think I’m just tired from today.
u sure?
There is a pause before Namine sends her next message.
Have you thought about travelling with me?
Xion frowns. She rolls to her side on her bed, the screen close to her face. She types.
a bit. i want to be near u again
She takes too long to send it; The message sits in the text box a moment too long and Namine sends her next one.
oh! Sorry to cut this short today.. Gotta run, I forgot I promised Queen Minnie I’d join her today on a picnic. ttyl, bye!! x
Xion deletes what’s in her text box, types up and sends:
have fun! xo :)
Of all things, she tries sketching. Tries being the operative word; There’s one, two pencil marks on her piece of paper and not much else. She’s not even sure what she was trying to draw. She just wants to take snapshots of life, the same way Namine does with her paintings. Make small impressions last as long as they can.
Xion leans on her elbows and pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering incoherently under her breath.
Her gummiphone chimes. There’s a picture of Namine, grinning and making a little heart with her thumb and forefinger pressed against each other. Namine notes her dimples, pronounced moreso than she remembers.
queen minnie asked me if id paint portraits of her and king mickey!!!!!! oh my gosh!!!
Suddenly that sketch doesn’t even matter to her.
Ventus catches Xion scrolling through Namine’s Kingstagram during lunch, and the knowing way he grins is enough to bring a bright red flush in Xion’s face.
“Does she know?” Ventus asks her, leaning his hands on the back of the stone bench Xion sits on.
“Of course not. I don’t know how to tell her.”
Ventus hums. “You could just, you know, ask her out. Aqua won’t have any problem with you taking time off every now and then to take a cute girl out.”
Xion covers her face. “I don’t know...how.”
“You don’t know how to go up to Namine and just say, ‘hey, let me take you out for dinner sometime. wear something nice’?” Ventus snickers. “You and Sora are the same.”
That, at least, makes Xion laugh. Her phone chimes. Ventus whistles.
“It’s not that hard,” he sings, pushing off the bench and beginning to stroll away. He says something else, but Xion doesn’t pay attention because there are two pictures from Namine - One of her smiling with Pluto nuzzled against her cheek, and the other a snapshot of a painting of Queen Minnie and King Mickey, surrounded by soft blues and pinks.
beautiful
— is what she sends in reply, and Xion hopes it’s vague enough that Namine thinks she means the painting.
Xion has written and rewritten paragraphs, sections of paragraphs, sentences both long and short, but they never leave the text box she drafts them in. She still has another thirty minutes before her students start waiting for her at the training grounds. Thirty minutes to decide from where to muster up the courage to say something to Namine, thirty minutes to even send a text, and thirty minutes to figure out what to say.
She has twenty-five minutes left when the typing animation from Namine’s side appears briefly, then disappears.
Xion squeaks, deletes everything in her text box, and stares at her screen. Namine doesn’t type again. Xion waits until she has twenty minutes left.
At the fifteen minute mark she deletes her draft, closes her phone, shoves it in her pocket, and heads out of her room; flushed and embarrassed.
Their texts become less frequent as Namine and Xion both get busier. Namine’s mastery exam is only two months away and Xion has to start thinking about which of her students are ready to start training under the masters before her.
Late night conversations go from being hour long to small, fleeting texts - Sometimes Xion falls asleep before she receives something from Namine. Sometimes Namine only has enough time to send a cute emoji.
Xion hasn’t received a photo in a while. Before long, she doesn’t receive much at all.
She starts leaving her phone in her room.
Ventus notices her moping. Xion is sure that he’s the one that suggests to Aqua that she take a break - All of her students have advanced, anyway, leaving her free for a time.
So when Aqua eventually approaches Xion with the prospect of taking a month off to go home to Twilight Town, Xion does not hesitate to say yes.
At the end of that week, Seconds to Sunset transforms into a sunset gold glider and blurs past Departure’s blue sky, and reappears in the eternal amber glow above Twilight Town; home.
Roxas lives on a top floor apartment, so it’s no surprise to Xion when she catches him climbing over the fire escape and hopping onto the rooftop, his hair barely kept underneath the hood of his thrifted hoodie. She guides her glider to the rooftop, lets it hover low as she jumps off. Roxas crashes into her, strong arms embracing her as the glider disappears in a low orange light that matches the entirety of Twilight Town.
Her arms wrap around Roxas. “Missed you, too, rucksack. What’s for dinner?”
Roxas pulls away with a snort. “Lunch,” he corrects. “Did you forget to check the time?”
Xion grins sheepishly. Roxas snorts, leads her to the fire escape and they slip into his apartment. Axel and Isa are already inside, busying themselves with setting plates down. They both look up when Xion enters; Axel grins, hurrying to Xion and catching her in an embrace. Xion waves weakly at Isa, who smiles at her.
Xion relaxes. Her thoughts of sweet smiles and soft blonde hair are traded for familiar scenes of of her friends bathed in twilight, and the sunset glow across the horizon allows a solace she hasn’t felt in some time.
“So, you gonna talk about why you need an emergency vacation?” Roxas asks. A crumpled paper ball hits Xion squarely on the nose, and she frowns.
It’s been two days into her time back at Twilight Town; Roxas had left the question go unanswered for long enough.
Xion buries her face into the couch pillows, her groan muffling. “Aqua sent me home because she knows I’m bummed over Namine.”
Roxas laughs, tossing another crumpled ball at Xion. She catches it and throws it at him, her aim impeccable as the paper hits between his eyes. He yells, Xion scoffs.
She rolls to her side and reaches for her phone sitting just a little ways away from the couch. She tilts it, opens the screen, and hides her disappointment when no new notifications show.
Roxas hums from where he sits, legs dangling over the arm of his seat. “You know what you need?”
“What?”
“A distraction. Let’s go skate.”
“I don’t skate.”
“Fine, I’ll skate, you bike. Your shitty bmx is in storage.”
A month becomes another, and Xion’s vacation gets longer when Aqua calls her one day telling her that it’ll be awhile before new wielders are found. She tells Xion she can settle back on Departure or Twilight Town, and that she’d be sent on missions every now and then.
Xion returns for a day, packs up more things, and she’s back on the lazy streets of her home. Roxas’ couch becomes hers, and clocktower hangouts with their friends becomes Xion’s norm once again.
But before she’s back, Ventus stops her and gifts her an old camera - Second hand, he tells her.
“Why me?”
Ventus shrugs. “Cause you can’t draw for shit?”
--
So she takes up photography, and her Kingstagram fills with pictures of Twilight Town. Roxas is a common appearance, and there are a few shots of Lea and Isa. She gets snapshots of life on Twilight Town; Roxas’ sheer joy when he skates through the town, the rare moments of softness on Isa’s face when Lea isn’t looking.
She also takes photos of the lazy streets, empty and bathed in dim light; Of friends running atop rooftops and dangling legs over the edges. Sea-salt ice cream melting in familiar hands.
They’re all posted on her Kingstagram, all except for one -
A wide window on the second level of the mansion, a mysterious draft brushing its white curtains. There is something missing there, someone.
Xion’s Kingstagram chimes with a flurry of notifications; One person clearly going through her photos, liking them. There is a comment, short, the user someone Xion has not heard from in quite some time -
Beautiful, Namine says. There’s another comment after that, shorter -
<3
Scrooge stops her on the street one day, asking if she’d be willing to display her photography in the bistro.
There would be a large reception, he says, and continues to talk but Xion’s too busy thinking about how she’s going to get all her photos printed for the show.
Two weeks later, Scrooge sends her off to San Fransokyo to get them printed professionally. Isa is the one who joins her to bring her photography back, printed beautifully on canvas. She runs to the restaurant with the photos in arm, but Scrooge insists she just leave them -
“It’s a joint show, Xion, dear! And I have a team to hang them professionally.” At Xion’s conflicted expression, he continues - “Oh, trust me. I think your works and hers will compliment just nicely.”
So she and Isa leave the bistro with curious expressions.
“She?” Isa hums.
“I wonder who it could be.” Xion says, looking at him. “Do you think my work will compliment hers?”
He smiles, looking over his shoulder to glance at the bistro. “Well, I don’t always trust his judgement, but he does have a certain knowledge of the arts.”
Xion shrugs, nodding reluctantly.
“Thank you, by the way.”
She looks at him, brow quirked.
“Your photos of me. They’re quite nice,” Isa explains. He clears his throat. “I often worry I don’t show Lea enough of my feelings. Your photos - They’re proof of them. So they are dear to me.”
Xion grins.
There’s a text late that evening, just before Xion falls asleep.
Heard about your show!! I hope it goes well!!!! >:)
Another week passes, the reception comes.
Roxas and Xion are digging through his closet, passing clothes between each other and trying to find something remotely formal enough for the reception. Roxas settles for a plain white button up and red slacks, and Xion finds a black button up somewhere in the mess of his closet.
When she puts it on, she leaves much of it unbuttoned, the rest tucked into her high-waisted pants. Roxas doesn’t say anything, but he does roll his eyes at the outfit.
Lea and Isa come by the apartment, bouquets in their hands meant for Xion. Xion sorts sheepishly when she receives them, but she does hold them tightly when they all go to the bistro together.
Inside is beautiful, and Xion is amazed to see her own works up on the wall. Some of her students are there, Ventus is, too. Sora and Riku are walking arm in arm looking at the images, but look over towards Xion with thumbs up for her. Kairi comes a little later, an audible gasp leaving her lips as Olette guides her through with her hand clasped in hers. Roxas and Pence pull away, and Xion watches Lea and Isa stroll around as well.
Xion smiles, sighing, and eyes the one image she had printed that she hadn’t posted on her Kingstagram. Her eyes observe the white curtains, and then lower.
There’s another room - Or section, really, further into the bistro. Xion takes one sweeping look around her section before she moves on to the next room.
Familiar paintings are hung up; Paintings she’s known and has missed seeing. There are new ones, too - There's one of her. That's her on there, with her dark hair and shaved undercut, her expression soft and perfectly captured by a delicate hand. Last she'd seen of that painting, it was still in the works.
Xion gasps as she walks to the center of the room, looks around her.
Her heart beats a touch faster. Hope rises in her chest.
She hurries around the restaurant, politely making her way through the growing crowd and looking for a familiar head of blond. There are some kind words of congratulations said in her way, but she’s too focused on finding what’s missing.
Xion comes to the end of her section, where the image of the white curtains hangs. She frowns.
There’s a tap to her shoulder.
She turns, and Namine is there, smiling softly.
“I missed you.” She says, and Xion laughs, pulling Namine into a tight, tight embrace, because, oh.
She wants this impression to last longer than a snapshot.