One Shot: A Reminder
Prompt: Scar
When: Takes place after MX plot, after returning to Siren's Port, etc.
===
The eyes.
They were his eyes.
That much was true as he stared hard at the reflection looking back at him. Steam dissipated, gradually crawling away from the edges and the center of the flat, rectangular surface.
He shifted his weight, leaning forward to place the palm of his hand against the mirror, feeling the contrast between the surrounding humidity of the room and the tinge of cool glass underneath.
Gold eyes became clearer, brilliant and piercing as they studied the next nearest features -- a defined nose, a firmly closed mouth. There was strength found within his facial structure. The ears...they had their own characteristic shape, bent and pointed near the top of each ridge, indicating the changes carried over from years past -- an event he was presently familiar with, but still had no real recollection of it ever happening. Both were now hidden under the mess of wet, layered hair that fell over and past broad shoulders.
Water droplets fell from the ends of his bangs, forming small rivulets as they ran down dark skin. Several strands tangled against the rest, damp as more droplets hung and wavered. Every other bead broke under accumulated liquid weight, adding to the lines visible.
The Nobody's gaze followed the trails, rampant as some of them were, as they slid down his chest...
...Across a large, jagged scar.
Darkness.
Glowing eyes.
Heartless.
Wordlessly, Xemnas lifted his other hand from the edge of the sink, letting it hover over the damage which was nothing short of temporary. A clean cut once existed where his heart should have been, now completely healed, leaving its mark as a reminder -- another memory to add to the rest he had presently stored away. A bad one, but a memory nonetheless.
He 'died.'
A slow, discrete realization settled itself within his body, filling the void temporarily with its weight. It came back all too quickly. He remembered how it went -- the stolen vessel, a forged keyblade, endless streams of living shadows, infinite darkness.
That voice.
Ansem.
The battle itself was tiresome. Fighting a smaller body was difficult. The Guardian served its purpose well. He had to be mindful of the tactics used, pacing himself as he drew out his attacks. Patience was vital. Thankfully the rush made shoddy work of the keyblade. It was disposed of in the middle of the fight, shattering to pieces after he stole it from the other's grasp. He almost felt smug, seeing this portion fall through and the reaction that followed.
From an outsider's perspective, it was a small victory in comparison to what the others had to go against.
Eventually everything started to crumble. Each attack became more erratic, more controlled. The Heartless left his present vessel, calling forth another weapon (that lance, that double-headed monstrosity, sharp, wielded expertly, aggressively) with little trouble. More strikes, equally matched. It was taking too long. It appeared that way. But both halves were able to land a final blow upon one another -- through the hearts they never had.
And then...nothing.
Pointless. It was pointless. It was an integral part of the grand scheme of things. The threat was gone, but when a City and its Core was able to pick and choose who left and who came back, it still amounted to nothing.
He was not helping them, the ones who were of the Light. Not completely.
And this was only his second 'death.'
He did not need to experience any more than that.
Xemnas stepped away from the sink, from the mirror. Reflected thoughts were ended. There was nothing he could do about it, He could not forget it ever happened.
He would not forget.
He slipped on a bathrobe, folding one side of the material over the other. Enough time had been spent contemplating the scar, that reminder, that memory. There were more important things to attend to.
When: Takes place after MX plot, after returning to Siren's Port, etc.
===
The eyes.
They were his eyes.
That much was true as he stared hard at the reflection looking back at him. Steam dissipated, gradually crawling away from the edges and the center of the flat, rectangular surface.
He shifted his weight, leaning forward to place the palm of his hand against the mirror, feeling the contrast between the surrounding humidity of the room and the tinge of cool glass underneath.
Gold eyes became clearer, brilliant and piercing as they studied the next nearest features -- a defined nose, a firmly closed mouth. There was strength found within his facial structure. The ears...they had their own characteristic shape, bent and pointed near the top of each ridge, indicating the changes carried over from years past -- an event he was presently familiar with, but still had no real recollection of it ever happening. Both were now hidden under the mess of wet, layered hair that fell over and past broad shoulders.
Water droplets fell from the ends of his bangs, forming small rivulets as they ran down dark skin. Several strands tangled against the rest, damp as more droplets hung and wavered. Every other bead broke under accumulated liquid weight, adding to the lines visible.
The Nobody's gaze followed the trails, rampant as some of them were, as they slid down his chest...
...Across a large, jagged scar.
Darkness.
Glowing eyes.
Heartless.
Wordlessly, Xemnas lifted his other hand from the edge of the sink, letting it hover over the damage which was nothing short of temporary. A clean cut once existed where his heart should have been, now completely healed, leaving its mark as a reminder -- another memory to add to the rest he had presently stored away. A bad one, but a memory nonetheless.
He 'died.'
A slow, discrete realization settled itself within his body, filling the void temporarily with its weight. It came back all too quickly. He remembered how it went -- the stolen vessel, a forged keyblade, endless streams of living shadows, infinite darkness.
That voice.
Ansem.
The battle itself was tiresome. Fighting a smaller body was difficult. The Guardian served its purpose well. He had to be mindful of the tactics used, pacing himself as he drew out his attacks. Patience was vital. Thankfully the rush made shoddy work of the keyblade. It was disposed of in the middle of the fight, shattering to pieces after he stole it from the other's grasp. He almost felt smug, seeing this portion fall through and the reaction that followed.
From an outsider's perspective, it was a small victory in comparison to what the others had to go against.
Eventually everything started to crumble. Each attack became more erratic, more controlled. The Heartless left his present vessel, calling forth another weapon (that lance, that double-headed monstrosity, sharp, wielded expertly, aggressively) with little trouble. More strikes, equally matched. It was taking too long. It appeared that way. But both halves were able to land a final blow upon one another -- through the hearts they never had.
And then...nothing.
Pointless. It was pointless. It was an integral part of the grand scheme of things. The threat was gone, but when a City and its Core was able to pick and choose who left and who came back, it still amounted to nothing.
He was not helping them, the ones who were of the Light. Not completely.
And this was only his second 'death.'
He did not need to experience any more than that.
Xemnas stepped away from the sink, from the mirror. Reflected thoughts were ended. There was nothing he could do about it, He could not forget it ever happened.
He would not forget.
He slipped on a bathrobe, folding one side of the material over the other. Enough time had been spent contemplating the scar, that reminder, that memory. There were more important things to attend to.