Categories > Games > Kingdom Hearts

Somebody's Lullaby

by Ariel_Tempest 1 review

Strange girls appearing in your basement are a good reason to procrastinate on getting your butt kicked, aren't they? Demyx certainly thinks so.

Category: Kingdom Hearts - Rating: G - Genres: Drama - Characters: Demyx, Kairi - Warnings: [!!!] - Published: 2006-07-20 - Updated: 2006-07-20 - 1498 words - Complete


He was procrastinating.

It was painfully obvious he was procrastinating and that's why he was in the lower regions of the castles rather than his room or taking in the odd, blue-silver-grey scenery of the not-stone hallways. It was why he wasn't standing in the Proof of Existence, absently counting the cracked headstones in the pulsing, purple light of the castle's heart and possibly attempting, again, to compose a requiem for each one, not that he cared, but requiems always sounded cool. There weren't many of anything in the lower regions of the castle, perhaps the occasional Dusk if it got lost, and if he didn't meet anyone (any other no one?), he couldn't be asked why he was still there and not on his way to Hollow Bastion to have the Keyblade master probably hand him his ass.


And he really didn't want to think about that any more than he really wanted to be wandering through the unending halls of white and grey and carvings of organic, gothic circuitry, but at least the halls weren't going to beat him up. At least, he didn't think they would. One could never be entirely certain about these things, but if the walls did attack him, he was at least pretty sure he could win that fight, because really, how hard was it to fight an inanimate object? It had to be easier than being beaten up by one.

"And now, I'm just being ridiculous." A sigh, a turned corner, an attempt to get his focus back on the upcoming fight and trying to figure out how he was going to beat the Keyblade master because really, if he didn't win this time, they'd just make him try again. Assuming he didn't die. Or cease existing. Or cease not existing. He'd never understood how that worked and he was running out of hallway which meant he was running out of excuses to procrastinate.

On the other hand, purple seemed like a good excuse, purple not-marble (or maybe it was not-metal, he couldn't really tell) that formed bars around a softly glowing room, a patch of dusky twilight black-framed in the stretch of shining white hall he'd just entered. Behind the bars sat a shining girl, brighter than the cell or the hall, and, well, that would be a dog, wouldn't it? An odd looking dog, but more dog than anything else.

There were no other Nobodies around, which wasn't surprising, and no Somebodies, which would have been less surprising if it weren't for the girl and the dog who were both watching him, which was surprising enough. The silence and moonlight stretched through the bars and just staring wasn't a very good excuse for not getting his ass kicked, so finally he asked, " Who...who are you?"

The girl hesitated, wary, then, "Kairi. Who are you?"

"Demyx." He was Demyx and she was Kairi and he hadn't bothered to ask about the dog because really, that wouldn't help. And there was still no one to explain to him why this girl was in the castle, sitting in her purple dusk cell and shining and watching him, and why things were generally being more confusing than normal.

He'd looked around one more time just to be sure and there wasn't even a Dusk or Creeper.

Was he even supposed to be talking to this girl? Well, no, he wasn't, he was supposed to be going to Hollow Bastion, but ignoring that, was he? "What are you doing here?"

There was no hesitation this time, just emotion and light and a lot of words flying at him. "There was a man with lots of red hair and a black cloak like yours and I guess his name was Axel but he grabbed me and pulled me into this really dark place and I kicke - er - that is I got away and then there was this other man with lots of blue hair this time and a cloak and a scar and a huge sword! A big, big sword! And," a pause for breath and the dog growling to underscore the size of the sword, "then he brought me here and put me in this cage and I can't just sit here waiting because I really, really need to find Sora and Riku and can you let me out now, please?"

She was looking at him now with big, shining eyes and her big, shining heart.

It took his brain a minute to catch up. "Big sword? Like," he cast about for a good means of comparison and settled for stretching one hand above his head and pointing to the ground with the other, "this big?"

"Maybe a little bit bigger."

Perhaps fighting the Keyblade master wasn't the worst thing he could think of. In fact, he should probably be trotting off to do that, except he still didn't want to, and really, there was just the three of them so there was no hurry just yet. "I see. Um. Sorry, but I can't really let you out. Saïx would kill me, you see, or, well, he'd hurt me a lot and I like living. Well, okay, not living, really, but exist...wait, no, I'm not really doing that either. Um. Well, whatever I'm doing, I like doing it and I'd kind of like to keep doing it a little bit longer."

He smiled for good measure.

She still looked irritated or frustrated, one or the other, maybe both, and as confused as he felt. She sighed and sank back (sunk back? Which was it anyway?) against the wall, muttering. "Oh. Damnit."

She didn't exactly dim, that is the shine didn't go away, but it flickered, cooled, like blue light instead of yellow or white, and she didn't look happy. He watched her, not feeling sorry because he couldn't feel sorry, but very much aware that, were he Somebody, this was when he should feel sorry for her. He should do something to make her less unhappy, but what was he good for, other than target practice for the Keyblade master and (shit, he hadn't meant to think about that) working with water and hey. There was an idea. "Here, I know. Since I can't let you out, why don't I play something for you?"


"Yeah! I'll just..." his fingers moved over his sitar's strings, searching for a tune. Notes were always easy, but it was harder to think of a way to link them together, to remember a tune that he'd once called happy or calming or something of that sort. He found one, eventually, as always, although he was fairly certain that lullabies aren't supposed to be played on sitars, at least not the way he was doing it. And he could only remember a few of the lyrics, but that was okay because he was a better player than a singer anyway and the words were lies. She wouldn't be - couldn't be - in his heart always, couldn't even be there now, because he had no heart. It was soothing though, and wasn't that the point? A steady cadence of notes that didn't require too much thought, a fall of memories that were peaceful and full of breezes and comforters and stars shining outside the window and someone, somewhere, stroking his hair as he snuggled into the pillow.

Of course, he didn't know if she had any memories like that or not, but he figured she must because the next time he looked up, she was curled up on her side using the dog as a pillow. The dog was snoring.

He stepped closer, peering through the purple to watch them. She was smiling, just a little but it was there, and even the dog seemed happier, his tail slapping against the floor in sleepy wags. It made him almost feel worthwhile, like he could do something other than screw up and run away and procrastinate. If he concentrated hard enough on her smile and his memories he could almost convince himself that this was /happy/.

"What are you doing here?"

He jumped, spinning, swallowing a reflexive yelp. Looking up into Saïx's eyes, not unhappy eyes, but eyes that could go insane at a moment's notice, he forced a smile and his mind babbled at him.



Not touching your girl!

Fortunately, whatever might be said about his ability to feel, he had a very strong survival instinct. "Oh, nothing, just passing through, on my way out, just leaving, thanks bye." And he fled before Saïx could question the validity of the statement or the appropriateness of the action or his eyes could turn to livid moons in his face and his scar a ragged gash. Robes and sitar melted into shadow and as the white faded in front of him he could almost feel relief and almost, if he thought further to the shiny girl in the purple cage, regret.

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