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“Maybe you’re still a little tired,” Aqua says, gently. Kairi blinks a few times to remember where she is. “Didn’t you wake up just a while ago? You were asleep for quite a long time…”
Kairi hums. She’s not really in this training session — her head feels quite far away, in a place where she can't reach. The guilt crawls upon her slowly—she requested to study under Master Aqua and didn’t even bother to pay attention? “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Aqua laughs a little. She pats her head, reassuring, and Kairi feels herself relaxing a bit. It’s been quite hazy ever since waking up and coming back from the Final World. “Kairi, it’s fine. You can take your time to get used to everything. Ven was the same when he woke up, you know.”
Kairi nods.
It’s a mess inside her head. It was easy to hold herself together after waking up--there weren’t many moments to truly stop and reflect. As soon as she woke up, she had been with the scientists at Radiant Garden, and then immediately after that—Riku had shown up. And, well, things were hard to process after everything that happened with Riku.
Now… Now, it seems like her brain caught up to the quiet and stillness of the Land of Departure, the peaceful surroundings, and the calm atmosphere that the world emanated. It felt only logical for her to start processing everything that happened. What sticks out the most is the memories of Xehanort—not the old man, but the young man who sent Kairi away with promises of hope.
“I think I really am tired,” Kairi says. “Can we take a break? I’m sorry again...I promise tomorrow I’ll be all set.”
“There really is no rush,” Aqua smiles at her. Kairi wishes she could believe her — there is plenty of rush. Every second that passes is a second that Riku is further away from her, getting into all types of risky adventures. “I’ll call you for dinner. If you need anything, I’m here for you. Okay?”
Aqua is very soothing. Kairi wants to tell her about what’s going on inside her head, but it’s so—
The words won’t come out, that’s all. It’s hard to even put a label on her feelings.
“Thank you so much,” she says. “I’m going to take a shower, if that’s okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Aqua answers with a question. “Try to relax, alright? Everything is okay.”
Kairi nods, not wanting to add anymore words that might land her in another awkward situation. She hurries to her new little room and sits down on the bed, willing to calm down. As Aqua said, everything is okay. So why is her head racing so much? Why does it feel like she’s going to lose her mind any second now?
The answer is pretty simple: Xehanort. Kairi’s head has been foggy since her memories came back to her, but that’s why everything is foggy—it hasn’t returned fully to her. She wishes some of it came back again, that way, maybe she’d stop replaying Xehanort’s speech to her over and over inside her head. Xehanort had said “Everyone you cared about and everyone you loved.”
And that’s where things get foggier. Kairi can’t remember the people she loved.
She knows she had a grandmother, barely, but the only memories of a family she has are the ones who adopted her in the islands, her childhood friends, and that’s about it. And it hurts. Xehanort ripped her away from a family made up of — who? Xehanort tore her away from what?
Being aware of it hurts. Being aware that there’s something missing—something inside her is empty—hurts. If she could reach out and touch her heart, she’d find a black void somewhere, with memories locked away and a family she cannot remember.
She’s never known any way to deal with memories that’s been lost. Even when she forgot Sora, all she’s ever had has been herself—Kairi and her letters. Letters.
Writing a letter would feel right, if there was a subject to write to. If there was anyone to write to.
Sleeping this off doesn’t feel right, either.
Clearly, the answer should be to remember what’s been lost. At least then she’d be able to properly heal, wouldn’t she?
Naminé, on the other hand, doesn’t seem too convinced. She sits on the other side of the table, the old mansion in Twilight Town being as quiet and as calm as ever. She looks conflicted, refusing to meet her eyes.
“Kairi,” Naminé begins again. “I can’t… lend you my powers for this.”
“But why not?” she asks, weakly. “I can’t keep going like this. It’s all I ever think about - I just want this to end so I can focus on my training. Please.”
She still looks at Kairi apprehensively. “Kairi… I understand. The memories inside your heart are locked for a reason—memories are never gone, the chain of memories never goes away. But your heart—Kairi, your heart is protecting you for a reason. The answers you seek may deeply hurt you, and I—” Naminé looks down at her hands, “I don’t want to use my powers to hurt anyone again.”
“It’s not hurting me,” Kairi says. She has to understand. “If it hurts me — it will only lead to me healing. I promise. You’d never hurt me, I know that.”
“You put too much trust in me,” Naminé says, sounding like she’s forcing out a sad laugh. “I can’t really control if my powers will hurt you—I don’t want the risk.”
Kairi sighs. She doesn’t want to force Naminé to do something she doesn’t want, but this was her last resort. She doesn’t want to go back to Radiant Garden only to have her be looked into like another test subject—with the way things are currently inside her head, she’d rather not have anyone ever experiment on her again. Naminé — she’s her friend. A trusted one. Naminé probably knows her better than Kairi knows herself.
“You seem upset,” the other girl looks down. “Has this been bothering you for a while?”
“Yes…” Kairi sighs. “I can’t really sleep well anymore. I’m scared I might run into - into him, ” the name Xehanort isn’t uttered. She remembers him all too well - white hair and taller than her, white coat, elegant posture. Extremely terrifying. “I just want some closure. I don’t know what I have lost, and I don’t want to go on not knowing what I’ll never recover. I know… I know I can’t ever get back my old family, or my old life. I just can’t move on not knowing what I have missed. I owe my old life a proper good-bye.”
A silence stretches between them. Kairi folds her hands together and inhales. It’s so hard. Inside her, there are locked memories of a life that will never belong to her again. How could she ever say good-bye to what was left behind if she never knew of it? Is that what her old family deserved, to be forgotten without any regrets? Is that what she deserves?
Naminé clears her throat. “I don’t like seeing you in pain, Kairi. Please, you have to tell me — if my magic goes wrong — if anything I do hurts you— please let me know.”
“You’re going to help me?” she gasps softly. “Naminé…”
“Your happiness is worth the risk,” she smiles. “You’re my friend. I just… I’ll be careful. When you go inside your memories, I beg you, be careful as well.”
Kairi nods. “I got it.”
“Okay… very well.” Naminé stands up. “Follow me. Let’s go to sleep, one more time.”
She follows her to the insides of the mansion as Naminé explains that she must be asleep for her to go through her memories. Kairi’s heart beats loudly. She doesn’t wish to chicken out — Sora or Riku wouldn’t have chickened out. She owes this to herself, she owes this to everyone she wants to help. She has to help herself first.
As she lies down, Naminé holds her hand. “I’ll begin soon. Be safe, okay?”
Kairi hums. She offers her a big smile, in an attempt to be reassuring. Whether she wants to reassure herself or Naminé, she doesn’t know.
After that, Naminé puts her hand on her forehead, and soon enough she doesn’t feel anything anymore.
When Kairi wakes up again, she’s in Radiant Garden. She knows it’s not the current Radiant Garden: it looks different, the streets and houses don’t look the same as they do now, but the biggest sign is the people. She can make out a few familiar faces, at least eleven years younger, and she starts looking for herself.
These must be her memories. She feels like a ghost in a movie, looking inside it like nothing around her is real. She must be here somewhere.
When she finds her old self, she makes a full-stop. Holding her grandmother’s hand, she sees herself—small and with eyes full of wonder, holding a bouquet of flowers. Her grandmother is walking slowly while Kairi does her best to follow her pace, as to not be too fast, as to not disturb her grandmother.
It hurts. She can feel it; the warmth of her grandmother’s hand, the joy upon picking up the flowers… it hurts. It’s a perfect embodiment of a happy childhood, so far away from her, yet so close. She walks toward it, trying to reach out and touch someone — her grandmother, her younger self — but she phases right through them.
She doesn’t know why she expected any different.
“Do you think mommy’s gonna like the flowers?” the young Kairi asks, tugging at her grandmother’s hand. “I picked them up aaaall for her.”
“I think she’s going to love them,” her grandmother smiles at her. Kairi’s chest tightens. It’s such a warm smile, and it’s hitting now how much she misses it. It’s hitting how much she didn’t know she missed it. “What got you so interested in flowers now, mm?”
“Well!” young Kairi giggles after that, like she’s got the funniest secret in the world. “I met a pretty lady who liked them! So maybe everyone likes flowers! Do you want, too, grandma?”
“I’d love some,” she answers, patient and kind. “Next time we come together, I’ll wait for my own. Okay?”
“Okay! You’re gonna love yours too, granny!”
Kairi watches as they walk away. She follows them, hovering behind, picking up their idle chatter. It’s hard to fathom that this is her - at one point in her life, this had been Kairi. She lived this. Knowing what’s to come is almost like a storm waiting for the rain to start, and it hurts—being right here and not being able to change anything.
They reach her house eventually, and Kairi takes a step back. She doesn’t remember this. It strikes her like the hardest Keyblade on her head—this is familiar and unfamiliar. She can’t recognize the house, but she knows it’s hers. Like this used to be home. Like she used to belong in this place.
Hesitantly, she follows them inside. It’s a lot more overwhelming than she expected. Her head begins to hurt—the memories are banging at her brain, willing themselves in. She sees the pictures on the walls and knows the girl in the pictures are all Kairi — all her. She recognizes her mom, her dad, her grandmother — it’s always been them, inside their little house.
She chokes up. She hasn’t even seen her mom yet—
“Oh, sweetie, you’re back!” And there it is. Her voice cuts through Kairi like the softest knife in the world—sharp and swift. It’s like touching a wound when it never closed. “Such pretty flowers!”
Young Kairi jogs happily to where her mom is, flowers in hand, putting them up as an offering. “For you!”
It’s so much to see her again. Or, better put, seeing her for the first time. Kairi sees the long red hair, the warm smile, and the same blue eyes she has, and immediately grabs her head. Her head is about to split open and pour out every single memory she had once forgotten. Her mother’s warmth when she hugged her, the way her eyes would follow every single movement Kairi did like she was the most important thing to her— and maybe she was. Everything comes crashing down at once.
She rushes toward her mom, desperately trying to reach for a hug, for something - and phases right through her.
“Mom,” she whispers.
Her mom kneels down and picks up the young Kairi with her flowers. “These are for me? You’re so sweet! The sweetest girl in the entire world!”
She hugs her, breaking Kairi’s heart a bit more. “Mom,” she tries again.
She can’t interfere. She can’t interfere. She can’t interfere.
“She said she’ll pick up for her granny, too,” her grandmother walks slowly past them, no doubt heading to the kitchen. “Isn’t she so kind?”
“Sooo kind,” coos her mom, “my tiny little princess! Do you want to tell me about your adventures at the park?”
The young Kairi cheers. Her and her mom sit down at the table as her grandmother starts to cook.
More hits her. The taste of her food. The meals she used to prepare for Kairi especially - the funny little scenes that would come out when Kairi didn’t want to eat her vegetables, or the times she was promised dessert if she ate all of her food, or the time—
It hurts to remember. It’s not good to remember. She shouldn’t have done this.
Kairi takes a seat on one of the opened empty chairs, looking right at her mom. Why couldn’t she see her? Why would she be invisible? Why, why, why?
“I’m here,” she says, as the young Kairi takes a break to run around the kitchen and help out. “I’m here. I’m sorry I forgot you—I won’t—I never will again—I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving. You loved me a lot, didn’t you? I’m so sorry. Mom, I’m sorry.”
Her mom, as expected, doesn’t reply back. She looks at Kairi’s direction, and the illusion of her eyes being met by her mom’s is enough to bring the tears up - not spilling, just welling up. Kairi reaches out, trying to hold her hand, trying to do anything, yet again to no use.
She gets up from the chair, walking to where her grandmother is, trying to give her a hug — it fails, again. “I’m sorry. I miss you. I’m so sorry.”
Her grandmother doesn’t acknowledge this Kairi. Instead, she smiles down at the young Kairi, letting her taste her cooking, and for a brief second Kairi is mad. She’s upset, looking at the young child, and she has no clue, huh? She has no idea of what she has, or how important this is. All this child cares about is her next outing at the park.
“I hate you,” she says. It’s true. This child—this child—she… Kairi shakes her head, rubbing her eyes furiously. No, no, she doesn’t hate her—she doesn’t hate herself, she just… she just… “I just wish I could be you,” she laments, finally, and starts crying.
Young Kairi keeps cooking with her grandmother, unaware of everything. It’s so sweetly cruel.
She doesn’t know how long this keeps going—she watches them eat with the utmost normalcy, having jokes, mentioning how her dad would be back late from work today so they’d save him another plate. It’s so normal.
Kairi wants to grab young Kairi by her shoulders and shake her—warn her—anything. Stop running around by yourself. Please stay at home more. Please don’t be alone in the big plaza. Please. Please stay away from the castle. Please stay away from the castle please stay away from the castle please st
“I think it’s time for a shower and for bed, isn’t it, Kairi?” Her mom smiles, getting out of the table. Young Kairi hops off the chair happily, without a care in the world. She grabs her mom’s hand as she makes her way to the bathroom.
Kairi goes up to what she assumes is her old room. Everything is intact—everything looks the way it should. The plushies, the pink sheets, the clothes Kairi never wanted to put in her place and tried to be a rebellious little kid about it. Everything is there. Kairi stands in the middle of the room and tries to come to terms with the death of this kid — this Kairi stopped existing. This room had been destroyed. The Kairi that stands now might as well not even be named like this — she feels like she should have another name, another identity, because Kairi belonged to this kid; this kid who was loved by her parents and had fun with her grandmother.
Not her.
Right on time, Kairi turns around to see her younger self walking in with her mom, ready for bed. With more detachment than expected, she watches as her mom tucks her in and pats her softly. Even more unexpected it is when the door opens again, and Kairi spots a man — and after a few seconds, the shocked gasp that leaves her would have made anyone pay attention.
“Dad?”
Of course the man doesn’t reply. The young Kairi excitedly waves at him, even when Kairi can see her becoming sleepier as the seconds pass. Kairi can’t hear anything anymore.
She watches as her dad pets her hair, as her mom tells her a story before she falls asleep. She watches as the young Kairi slowly drifts off, going in and out of sleep, like she wants to spend more time with her parents.
She’s shaking.
Kairi’s mom kisses her forehead. “We love you so much, alright? Never forget it. We’ll always love you.”
“I’m sorry,” Kairi says again. Maybe if she says it enough, they’ll hear her. She reaches out, trying to be in this perfect image, in this perfect moment of two parents simply loving their daughter. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I miss you. I miss you—I really, really miss you. I’m so sorry.”
Young Kairi falls asleep and Kairi wakes up.
Naminé is still holding her hand when she wakes up, and Kairi feels her cheeks wet, even though she doesn’t remember still crying.
“Are you okay?” Naminé asks, hurriedly. “I didn’t know if to wake you up or not—I was scared I’d mess up something if I interrupted you, but you were crying…”
Kairi inhales and exhales. “I was very loved,” she says, and the admission of it makes her break down again. “Naminé, they’re gone. They’re gone. ”
Naminé holds her for a long, long time.
Kairi goes back to Radiant Garden with a letter destined to the family she lost, and to the old self who’d never return.
“You didn’t have to come,” she says to Aqua. “But thank you so much, Master Aqua.”
Aqua had been kind to her — more than she even thought she would be. Kairi knows she’d been slacking off in training, and yet, as soon as she explained everything to Aqua, all she had done was hug her. It seems like these days, Kairi got many, many hugs. Even Lea had been awkwardly kind enough to give her a hug, which they agreed to never speak of again.
“Don’t even mention it,” she replies. “I’m here for you, alright? I’ll be waiting for you right here.”
Kairi gives her another hug, just because, and then sets off on her small mission.
It’s quite a simple mission, actually: get to the top of the castle and make her letter float away. If her letter to Sora had arrived at the Realm of Darkness, then, who knew what would happen if she made her letter fly away?
It doesn’t contain anything long.
It contains an apology, a confession of love to a family that won’t return, and a promise to continue to carry them in her heart.
That’s where they belong.
She takes in the view of Radiant Garden below her — a place she once used to call home, a place where she once belonged. She inhales, and releases the letter way up. The spell Aqua casted on it helps it float, and Kairi watches it float away, until she can’t see it anymore.
It feels like hours until she comes down again, into Aqua’s arms.
“I’m proud of you,” she tells Kairi, letting her go and squeezing her shoulders gently. “You’re so strong.”
“Thank you,” Kairi replies back. She’s willing herself to not cry anymore. “I’m ready for my training. My two dumb friends can’t save themselves, can they?”
Aqua laughs. “You’re right about that. They’re going to get the surprise of their lives.”
Kairi takes one more look at Radiant Garden while Aqua summons her armor, and puts her hand on her chest. Right.
It’s time to start healing.