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Things about magic Naminé would never take for granted: she would never want for lighting ever again.
It would be a long, long time before she would reach the level of Donald or Aqua, but summoning and maintaining a small sphere of light was a simple feat, even for a beginner. This especially came in handy when she wanted to draw in a time or place where the light available to her might not be ideal.
Such as now. The Mid-Autumn Festival of The Land of Dragons was still ongoing in the streets of the capital below, the noise of life and celebration drifting up to the curved rooftops where she sat with her sketchbook open on her lap. It was the kind of distance she preferred when she wished to simply take a moment to draw. Far away enough to not be distracted but still close enough for her to avoid the feeling of isolation despite her distance from what was ongoing.
The existence of distant worlds had always been, to her, representative of everything she could not have: freedom, adventure, friends. Things she could only experience vicariously through the memories of others and fantasize about joining in while knowing the reality was that it would never be.
Or so she’d thought. Those days had long since passed. All she had wanted then were no longer the dreams and fantasies of a lonely girl, but her reality. A reality where she was free to travel the many worlds of this one sky and experience an adventure that was not Sora’s, but hers. An adventure that she could share with those she held dear instead of looking on as someone who did not belong.
Since it had begun, she had seen sights, smelled scents, and heard stories, music, and sounds she never could have dreamed of. Things, so many things, that stirred her imagination like nothing else. Drawing was a remnant of a past life, a life of crushing loneliness and ever-present whispers of fear, but one she was more than happy to bring into her current one. Especially now that her drawings were recordings of her own memories and experiences.
So the ability to simply create her own light source when she needed one was very convenient indeed.
Focused as she was upon her current creation, she almost missed the sound of Roxas’s arrival. Turning around, she caught sight of a flash of light as his Keyblade disappeared, but she didn’t need to have seen it to know it had been in glider form, as Roxas was attempting to juggle a porcelain bowl of rice, tofu, eggs, and vegetables and a pair of ivory chopsticks in each hand.
Goodness!
She was instantly on her feet and rushed to help before disaster struck. Even from here, she could still smell the delicious aroma, and it would be a shame if any mouthful of food was lost. And whoever made it would not appreciate them returning the bowls broken.
“Thanks Naminé. The chef told me the fireworks were starting soon so I hurried back as quickly as I could,” he said with a sigh of relief as they settled down on the—thankfully flat—peak of their chosen roof. Then his eyes trailed down to where her open sketchbook lay between them. “Although I think it’s safe to say you kept yourself busy?”
Swallowing a mouthful of rice, Naminé nodded. “Just a sketch,” she said, “but it seemed appropriate, given the occasion.”
Roxas tilted his head sideways as he tried to get a look from a better angle. “Chang’e?” he asked.
“Tonight is her night, after all,” Naminé replied softly. She’d heard the story of the moon goddess from a vendor who caught her eyeing a calligraphy drawing at his stall. Several versions, in fact, but they all ended the same way: alone on the moon.
It was such a sad story, she had thought, behind a festival so lively and bright.
When she shared this opinion, the vendor had snorted unsympathetically. “If she had been my wife, I’d hope she’d know she got off easy.”
“But if she didn’t know or was trying to protect the pill, then—”
“Women are weak and foolish by nature. That is why we tell our daughters the story of Chang’e. Teach them to know their place and obey their husbands. Ever since that woman—”
She hadn’t wanted to make a scene by arguing, so Naminé had beaten a hasty retreat afterwards despite her indignation on behalf of her friend. Mulan had saved China, saved all these people, but she supposed it made sense it would take far more than one extraordinary woman to change the opinion of those who still held such…beliefs.
It was also a shock to be reminded of what kind of world they were in. She and Roxas had first stayed as guests of Mulan’s family for a few days after the latter introduced them as “friends of a good friend she met during the war.” While Roxas had been quick to build a rapport with the heroine of The Land of Dragons and her soldier friends, Naminé had instead found herself drawn to the rest of the Fa family and spent more time keeping them company.
It had been quite obvious that Fa Zhou did not fully buy the story she and Roxas had given in regards to their origins but trusted his daughter enough to not ask more questions. Naminé remembered how he kindly praised her artistic ability when he saw her working on a sketch of some magnolia flowers and taught her to play xiangqi, a game he’d noted Mulan was “quite good at” in a way only a doting father could.
Fa Li had given her some curious looks here and there but was a welcoming hostess, encouraging Naminé to eat more and making sure she always had tea and sweets within reach while she drew by the gardens and ponds. It was a little embarrassing, but Naminé nevertheless shyly accepted Fa Li’s fussing.
Grandma Fa, of course, had been a delight. Irreverent, but oddly insightful in moments, like when she observed how a quiet girl like Naminé was a good match with someone who would protect her heart as well as her person so when were she and Roxas getting married? Naminé dearly wished she could introduce the funny, sweet old lady to Kairi’s grandmother even as she blushed and stammered at the forwardness of the question.
It was clear how much Mulan’s family loved their daughter, no matter how far the latter strayed from tradition, and that love was what had saved China. Naminé wondered which version of Chang’e’s story Mulan grew up with, what kind of moral, if any, she learned from it. Maybe Naminé could ask before they left this world for the next…
More personally, though, Naminé could easily imagine the vendor’s words about Chang’e could be said about her. A pill of immortality was not the same thing, no, but they both had their reasons for doing what they did.
Naminé didn’t know what drove Chang’e. She was a story, a legend. She may have once been a real person or she might never have existed at all, but what the man said about her struck too close to home. The hand Naminé played in what had happened at Castle Oblivion and the reason why Xion was forgotten…Was it ignorance, selfishness, or a choice between two evils?
So maybe that was why Naminé couldn’t help but see the moon goddess as a kindred spirit. Or, if nothing else, why Naminé wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Surely, one bad decision did not automatically make someone a bad person?
“I keep thinking about how lonely she must be. How she didn’t have a chance to say goodbye or apologize.”
I did get to say goodbye. I did get a chance to apologize—and was even forgiven.
Understanding crossed Roxas’s face. “I’m sure she manages. I was told she isn’t alone after all. If you look closely at the moon…you can see the jade rabbit, pounding away making rice cakes. Or the elixir. I don’t know? The kids who told me can’t seem to agree.”
Naminé giggled. It was not hard to imagine a rabbit doing such a thing after all they had seen thus far. “That is true,” she agreed. Briefly, she wondered if things would’ve been easier for her if she had a companion, something cute and fluffy, during her time with the Organization but dismissed the thought almost immediately. Such a companion would not last long in the presence of the cruelty Marluxia and Larxene were capable of, after all. Even in a hypothetical, she hated the idea of someone or something innocent suffering just so she wouldn’t be alone.
And besides…
“I’m not alone anymore,” she said firmly. No point thinking about a past she could not change when her present alone was more than she’d ever hoped for. “That’s what matters now.”
“I can’t say I disagree,” Roxas agreed. “Everything worked out in the end for us, so…” He trailed off.
Naminé nudged him gently. “Something on your mind?”
He blushed and promptly scooped a rather large portion of rice into his mouth with his chopsticks. Naminé patiently waited for him to swallow before giving him an expectant look.
“You’re going to think it’s silly.”
She always found his ‘silly’ to be actually quite endearing. “I promise I won’t laugh.”
Roxas took a deep breath. “Okay, so…You know those kids I mentioned earlier? The ones who can’t agree what the moon bunny is making with its mortar? Well, one of them asked why Houyi didn’t just take the elixir, and I said, ‘Isn’t it obvious? He would rather be with his wife.’”
To Naminé, it seemed obvious too. Once again she thought of Fa Zhou. The Land of Dragons didn’t hold their women in the same esteem as some other worlds, but it didn’t mean individuals were incapable of valuing their daughters, wives, and mothers for who they were despite that.
“That doesn’t sound silly to me.”
“That’s not the silly part,” he grumbled as he picked at a piece of tofu in his bowl, “The silly part was…Well, I was just thinking how if things hadn’t been so urgent or if Sora and Xion and Axel weren’t in so much danger at the time, I would have waited until they found a replica body for you too before I became my own person again. It…It kinda felt like I was leaving you behind too, but…”
Naminé found her eyes beginning to water.
“…It wasn’t like I could just say that to some brats telling me to prove it…Um, Naminé? Are you alright?”
Of course she was. How could she not be? He’s the one they all miss, she’d thought, and there had been only one replica body available at the time, so…Why wouldn’t they bring him back first? And once they did, did she really believe they would keep working to do the same for her too?
She’d been so afraid of being forgotten again that her answer at the time had been a definite no. Roxas’s heart waking was what she’d expected from him when his friends were in trouble—she would never begrudge him for that—it just never crossed her mind to think he would have chosen to do the opposite for her.
And besides. Naminé had been able to play her part despite her lack of her own body, so as he had said earlier, everything had worked out in the end for them.
“I’m fine.” More than fine. “I don’t think it’s silly. I would have done the same for you too, you know.”
Roxas smiled. “I know.”
Conversation alternated between a comfortable silence and small talk as they resumed their meal. Tofu, eggs, mushroom, bamboo shoots, and cucumber. She made a mental note of it. With the recipes they and their friends all collected on their travels, maybe they should compile a cookbook…
“Naminé!” Roxas’s excited whisper alerted her just as she caught sight of the streaks of multicolored light ascending into the night sky. A cloudless night. Perfect for fireworks.
She excitedly put the last mouthful of rice into her mouth, trying not to wish too hard for a second helping right this instant as much as she tried not to swallow so quickly that the food went down the wrong way. Then she carefully placed the now empty bowl and chopsticks down on the flat peak of their roof.
Not anything she’d never seen before, arguably, but it was supposedly The Land of Dragons that invented fireworks back when all the worlds were one. Invented for no reason except as a means to celebrate. It made her happy to see that they were still used for the same purpose in so many other worlds despite such time and distance separating them.
She scooted closer to Roxas and laid her head against his shoulder.
“I saw an altar dedicated to the moon goddess earlier,” Roxas said suddenly. “People were leaving offerings, so maybe we should too before we leave.”
"Great idea," she said, and already ideas were spinning in her mind, invigorated by the fireworks and Roxas's words. An altar…a detail to perhaps make the picture in her mind’s eye a little less lonely…
Later.
Right now she was too comfortable.
Even though you are gone, you still exist in the hearts of those left behind.
