And There Are Storms We Cannot Weather (Ch. 1)
Pairing: Terranort x Anti-Aqua
Rating: M
Word Count: 4,457
Summary: If light won’t give Aqua her family back, she’ll use darkness to free them instead. There’s just one problem: she loves him when she shouldn’t.
A/N: Happy TWO-YEAR fic anniversary to me!! I’m releasing this a week ahead of the big day, I was just too excited to keep it to myself. This is such a rarepair (strangely? WHYYYY) and it’s exhilarating and liberating to get on something different! It’s an Enemies to Friends to Lovers fic and it’s such a scary thing to work on. I need to thank my two betas: @steadyknight who is my sharper edge and will push me to my limits, and @lyssala who is my soft embrace and will keep me hopeful. Together, they balance this piece out and without them, I would not have the courage to post this. Thank you both so much for your insight, encouragement, and critiques. ;-; ;-; ;-;
Laced With Nitroglycerine
If she asks anyone in the world whether she exists, they’d say no - they don’t remember her, after all. Like ants, they only see the path ahead, never bothering to go back for what they left behind. They don’t even know why she disappeared in the first place, nor do they want to.
At least, no one today remembers her. She led a whole life a long time ago, and she spent twelve years recounting those memories like they were printed in a book, word for word. Each one of her loved ones has a book of their own, and if she had her way, she’d have them all on a shelf along with hers, together.
But there are empty spots on her shelf now. One is dead.
Another is sleeping, and she can’t retrieve him without the right key, unless she risks losing her mind.
The last one is unaccounted for.
So she traces her steps like she’s reading backwards, and watches people from places they cannot see: within the cracks in between cobblestone, where they step on her; by the dumpster, where they recklessly abandon waste all over her, never realizing she’s there; under the storm drain, where they don’t bother to look; inside of closets, where they’re too preoccupied to peek.
After hours of eavesdropping useless conversation, she decides staying in Radiant Garden isn’t worth her trouble. She leaves, heading nowhere until she’s distant enough to wonder where she belongs.
Nowhere is a wasteland, with only a graveyard. And a man.
When the man sees her coming, he’s delighted to see her again, the way a child imagines a demon would be: lips curled, showing both rows of teeth, and a hungry glare where she’s the feast.
He looks the same, but he doesn’t, golden eyes ambered and deep which pierce through her. His hair is whiter than the sun - there’s no denying his presence, even yards away in the middle of an unmarked Keyblade burial site.
“All worlds begin in darkness, and all so end. The heart is no different - such is its nature. In the end, every heart returns to the darkness whence it came.”
These are his first words to her, rich and smooth like the hum of a distant earthquake.
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