#drawing samples

Naminé woke up and checked the calendar. Father’s Day. A small smile came to her face and she got out of bed to get dressed. It was still a little early; surely he wouldn’t be awake. It gave her enough time to go downstairs and cook breakfast as a surprise.

She crept downstairs and sighed in relief when the kitchen was indeed empty. Now she could work in peace. Naminé wasn’t planning on cooking him a feast, especially because there were only two of them, but she was making something a little extra special today. Having access to better ingredients improved her cooking, and now she was cooking two omelets, some bacon, and four slices of toast.

Naminé set the table and placed a card addressed to “Dad” to the left of his fork, where he wouldn’t be able to miss it. She hurried, wondering if the smell of the food would awaken him and make him come downstairs. If it did, she wanted it to be perfect and on the plates before he came down.

She was about halfway through her meal before she realized that he must have slept through her cooking, or maybe he was just now waking up. Naminé got to her feet and climbed back up the stairs to his room. By now she had had enough trouble sleeping or coming into his room to wake him up that she usually wasn’t nervous about going into her father’s room, but today... today was a little different. She really wanted him to be in there, but she didn’t want to admit that to herself as she pushed it open.

Empty. The bed was empty, the room was empty. Even the closet was empty. “That’s all right,” she told herself as she shut the door behind her, “he’ll just come later in the day.” With that, she finished her omelet and all four slices of toast, and then put the other omelet and the bacon away.

As soon as she finished washing the dishes, she headed into the living room to curl up on one of their armchairs. Naminé placed a small gift bag and the card from before onto the coffee table. She wanted to be there the second he got home. In the meantime, however, she would draw. Sketches upon sketches of him, of them. He smiled in some, laughed in others, frowned and was angry--it didn’t really matter what he looked like, so long as he was there. Naminé loved her father just as he was, and she wanted him to know it.

It was tiring after a while, though. Naminé had skipped lunch by the time she realized she had been drawing all day. She’d need to cook dinner soon. Of course he’d be home for dinner, surely. Even if he was a little late, he’d be home and she could warm up food for him. So she--with some difficulty--mashed potatoes and cooked steak in the oven. A special occasion, she reasoned. She wasn’t going to make steak every day, but if there was any day, it’d be Father’s Day.

Again she laid the card by his plate and, after waiting a few long minutes, began eating her dinner. “He’s just late,” she reasoned, but her bites were getting smaller and smaller and her heart less in it than before. Finally she finished her portion and slowly stood to put the food away and clean the dishes.

There’s still time, she told herself. Cloud was just late, or he forgot the day. It wasn’t like the worlds all ran on the same calendar or the same time. She knew that. He’d be home soon, he just had to be.

Dishes cleaned and on the drying rack, she went back to the living room and sat on the couch this time. Naminé had her card in her hands, running her finger along the letters and occasionally pressing it to her chin. He’d be home soon. Cloud would be home soon. He had to be. She just needed to stay up late enough. When he came through the door she’d jump on him and squeal, “Daddy!” just like she had wanted to when she would have seen him come down the stairs this morning for breakfast.

Naminé went to bed around ten usually, so when eleven rolled around her eyelids were drooping. She was tired, but there was still an hour left. Still an hour for him to come home for Father’s Day. By now she had stretched out across the couch and had wrinkled the card so that it wasn’t pristine anymore. She barely registered the clock when it chimed that it was fifteen after.

Naminé was asleep, curled up on the couch, the card clutched in her hand, when she felt herself awakened by a strange sensation. Someone was gently taking her into his arms and carrying her up the stairs. She knew who this was, she thought drowsily. Cloud. Cloud had come home, just like she had known.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy,” she mumbled, snuggling closer, the card still in her hand. “I love you.”

Naminé's feet soon became full of glass shards of all colors, but she couldn't feel them. Trails of blood followed her as her footsteps continued to take her across the field of glass flowers.

There was something here.

Something important.

Sora.

She picked up the pace, dashing through the field, the sound of thousands of glass flowers shattering shadowing her every step, crashing around her in her ears, obliterating any other noise.

Sora.

Naminé tripped and threw her hands up to break her fall, but instead of any ground catching her, she simply fell through the flowers, her arms cut by stray pieces of glass along the way.

She fell what felt like miles, tumbling deeper and deeper through a glass forest, when finally she slammed onto something.

Or someone.

Gentle, sweet, soft–terrifying.

“Where did you take her?”

She could see them trying to keep their distance from her. They skittered backwards as she slowly came forward.

“Do not make me ask again.”

The fear in their eyes should not be so enjoyable.

“Where did you take Kairi?”

One opened his mouth, quailing when she swiveled her gaze over to him. “Sh-she’s…”

His stammer was no help. “She’s where? Now.”

“We don’t know!”

Naminé’s glacial gaze moved over to the new speaker. “Wrong answer.”

“No!” they screamed when they saw her lift her hand.

She smiled and snapped her fingers. “Too bad.”

One by one they fell, the life stolen from them as their bodies forgot how to breathe, how to pump their hearts, how to move, how to live.

The days where the memories were simply too overwhelming. The days where she lay on the floor, incapacitated, writhing under the pain of so many memories clamoring for her attention. Her light would spread, unheeded, uncontrolled, enveloping everything, feeling everything.

It started with a headache, one that was distracting her from her drawing, but she paid it no mind. She could take a painkiller later if it didn't pass. Then the headache became more insistent, and the room started to swim, other images appearing before her eyes. Naminé tried to stop it, tried to rein everything in under her control, but since today was one of those days, that would not happen.

With a scream, she toppled sideways, collapsing to the floor. Everything was drifting away from her; all she could feel were memories upon memories flooding her, demanding her to relive each moment. The pain, the joy, the sorrow--every emotion passed through her in a flash, the colors of the memories whirling together at what felt like impossible speeds.

Somewhere, far in the distance, she could hear something. Someone ran towards her--or was that just a memory of Kairi's?--and shook her, calling for her. More voices joined in, but she was pretty sure it was only in that memory of someone else. It was hard to tell past from present when she was like this.

In a moment of coherency she saw a young man with dark hair, shaking her. She couldn't see the expression on his face, but she felt he was worried. Then that moment slipped away and she was swept up by the memories again.

Naminé was growing tired, so tired... Until suddenly she felt darkness brush up against her arm. She jolted, her senses focusing on it, feeling her light interlock with this darkness. It didn't feel like it wanted to eat her--no, instead, it felt like it wanted to help her, protect her.

She had been listening to Reeve--having decided to go along with him was a good idea--and felt dread curl in her stomach. An actual combat situation. There was absolutely no way she was staying, not when there was a possibility that she could help. Naminé knew she was small, and probably a liability, but she didn't care. Sora had done so much for everyone had he had been young and small. She could do the same, or at least try.

So she ran. Naminé followed after the others, tagging along so that it wasn't pathetically obvious she was not exactly a part of them. After all, they were more used to combat situations than she was, and had a lot more experience as well. Try. Just try your hardest. You may be able to help.

A part of her reminded her to be on the lookout for Kairi, or a way to go back. She knew her other half was still alive; they were linked in a way that twins were, but much, much stronger. Maybe I'll find her. I need to find her, and Sora.

She looked up. There, a boy. No, he was a man. He was holding a small box and he held it out to her when he came over to her. "Happy Mother's Day," he said quietly, although she could see the emotion in his eyes.

"Thank you," she said, taking the box in her hands. Something rattled inside, a sound she knew well. Pencils. Naminé opened it and smiled. "New colored pencils. That was sweet of you."

The dark-haired man smiled, his eyes lighting up. "You're welcome. I'm sure the others are going to bring presents too."

The second he finished speaking, the door to her white room burst open and a young boy ran in. "Momma!" he sang, rushing to her side. "Happy Mother's Day!" And before she could really react, he shoved a glowing bouquet of lilies into her hands. It was an extraordinary piece of magic, as each and every one of them was made out of light.

"Thank you, sweetie," she said, taking a moment to brush them against her face. Warm and happy. "You didn't have to."

"Sure I did Momma. I wanted to give you a present too!" His wide eyes widened even further, as if astonished by the idea of not giving his mother something.

Two more people came in, but this time Naminé had enough time to put the flowers and the box of pencils onto the table. "Happy Mother's Day!" the pair said together, coming over with their own presents. The young woman handed her a card and another box, while the man offered her a differently shaped box.

Inside the woman's box were markers, but the man had given her a porcelain bird. At the look on her face, he laughed. "Well, one of us had to give you something that wasn't art supplies, right? We decided it'd be me."

"Thank you," she repeated, getting up to hug them all. "You've made me happy."

That’s a lie, a part of her whispered. You love him too.

No. I can’t. Sora and Kairi are the ones who matter. I would do everything for them.

Naminé had been right about it not taking too long to reach where the Lady Galadriel was staying. She had wondered the entire time as to why Maglor would not go with her, but he must've decided that it would simply be easier this way, so he could focus on whatever other tasks he had to do to prepare everyone.

Her elf escort helped her off the horse and said, "The Lady will most likely be waiting in the gazebo down this path. Would you like me to take you there?"

She thought about this offer. "Is it directly down the path? No turns or anything?"

"That's right." He didn't really seem to know what to call her, so he left off a name or a title.

"Then I can do it myself." She nodded decisively, although now she'd said it, she was feeling nervous. What if, despite Maglor's assurances, Galadriel would not train her? "Thank you."

He nodded too and got back onto the horse, turning back the way he came. Now she had to walk down to where her new mentor would be waiting.