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path to the beach, very early sunday morning

There's not particularly a lot for him to do right now - he finished his book last night, can't be bothered finding his new one (which he thinks he might have left in the dorms, anyhow) and he's not tired enough to go back to bed.

So what he's doing instead is simple: he's running. He doesn't have anyone to practice Struggle with, and only one bat (it seemed like a good idea at the time, really - but nobody else seems to know what Struggle is) so he's running. When he gets to the beach, he'll either keep on running, or head for the water. He's dressed appropriately for either.

And totally up for company.

[OOC: Open like an open thing that's open! Come one, come all~]

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Ever since her class on swimming on Wednesday, Naminé had found herself drawn to the beach. Sitting on the sand and sketching felt like the most natural thing in the world.

So early Sunday morning, she wandered down and contemplated her crayons, wondering what she should draw. Perhaps the juggler again, now that he had a name. Or maybe she would just sit and enjoy the sound of the waves, and let ideas come to her as they would.

It's probably going to be hard to be calm and serene when Roxas runs practically at her before seeing her, skidding to a halt about two feet from here.

"Woah. Didn't see you there," he says, rubbing the back of his neck and grinning at her. "Sorry."

Naminé looks up, perhaps as startled by his sudden presence as she is by the fact that it's him again.

"Roxas," she says with a nod. "Good morning. It's perfectly all right. How are you?"

He attempts to peer at her sketchbook, before shrugging.

"I'm alright. Just got bored."

He sits down on the sand, toeing his shoes off and digging his feet under the sand a second later.

"You?"

It's a whole lot less freaky that she sort of knows him now that she's not the only one. At first, he thought she was just a nut. Then the whole thing with Demyx helped. Now, she's not particularly nutty to him at all.

"I hadn't started anything yet," she said, holding out the sketchbook so he could see the perfectly blank page. She hoped he wouldn't ask about other sketches, ones that included him and people that ... she hoped he wouldn't ask.

"I wanted to come down here. I like watching the waves come in. Particularly late evenings and early mornings, when no one else is around." Naminé lifted a shoulder. "I've been all right, I suppose. There are parts that are completely overwhelming, that I still can't get my mind around. Other than that it's been ... nice, I think."

"I know what you mean," he says. "About the overwhelming, I mean. There are a lot of people here. An awful lot of people."

He sighed, and turned to look at the page. Blank.

"I met someone else, here, that knew me - or will know me - or whatever way it works. I'm sorry I freaked out at you about it. If you hadn't said it to me, then he wouldn't have made sense. And now... now it kind of does. If you know what I mean."

He laughs, just a little. It sounds more self-depracating than anything else.

"What I mean is... I'm sorry. I don't think you're weird - it was just a little... odd. And I'm sorry if I upset you, because I didn't mean to."

"There are. And yet so very many of them are nice. It's unexpected, the way that everyone sort of ... pulls you in. I think I like it here."

She glanced over suddenly, relief pouring over her features. "You - did? Demyx. He - he explained, then? About ... timelines, or reality, or whatever it is that this place seems to do." Naminé shook her head. "And no, I'm sorry. This must be hard for you, adjusting to all of those people knowing your name and being complete strangers. I should never have dropped that on you so unexpectedly. It's just ..."

She looked at the book again, a small laugh of her own escaping. "I didn't expect to see you here, that's all. You're somewhere else entirely, in my time, and you should be there, and the thought that you weren't was a bit unnerving." And she shook her head again. "It does make sense, as much as anything can, around here. I'm wondering if anything does."

He nods.

"Yeah. Demyx."

His voice takes on a little breathless tone that he can't help. Doesn't mean anything, really. Really.

"He just said that... well, that he knew me. But he could tell I wasn't the same person. Or, more to the point, that I wasn't the person that he knew - maybe I had been or maybe I would be, but I wasn't his Roxas. And so, maybe it's the same thing with you. Maybe I'm not your Roxas. But I'll tell you the same thing I told him: it doesn't mean we can't be friends."

He holds a hand out to her.

"Even if everything's all screwy and weird and I'm supposed to be elsewhere. We're both here now."

Naminé smiled a little to herself at that tone of his, wondering. Not her business, of course. But amusing all the same.

"It seems to me that, no matter where, or who, you are, you're always your Roxas. I think that's what matters the most. There's something about you that's very ... you." She shook her head, laughing at herself a little. "I'm sure that sounds odd. But if you were wondering, you're from the time I knew you. Or more precisely, I think perhaps just before we met."

She reached out to take his hand, clasping it. A flash of memory: pulling him from the darkness into the white room. Still Roxas. "Even thinking that you should be elsewhere? I'm glad that you are here now. It's good to meet you, then. And I would like to be friends." Her smile was light, almost teasing. "I promise to not be so cryptic in the future."

"That's a relief. Cryptic is weird," he says, taking his hand back, shoving it into the sand and leaning back. "So, I'm from just before I meet you, huh? I'll remember not to be such a freak next time."

He smiles at her.

And maybe it's the smile that makes him Roxas, and the fact that he doesn't show it too often. Doesn't show it to people unless he knows he can trust them.

And there's something about Naminé that he knows he can trust.

[OOC: Back in about an hour!]

"I think so," she said lightly. "At least I'm certain it's not just after, after all. And I didn't mean to be so weird. The situation was ... very strange, not only for you. It's complicated." Which was, all things considered, an understatement.

"Hopefully, there won't be a next time, if I'm to meet you again and you've no recollection of it." She was only teasing a little. "But should that happen, I'll be less bizarre and you'll be less frightened, and I'm certain that's a relief for us both."

She smiled back at him, really smiling for once. His smile was a little like sunlight, and it was hard not to think everything would be all right when he beamed it at you.

"Do you and Demyx ... talk often?" She hesitated a little in asking, wondering if maybe he would know somehow if it was safe to trust the other boy.

"I'm pretty sure I couldn't forget you," he says. He'd remember a girl who reminded him of clouds. "At least, not now that I've met you."

He couldn't forget friends. He's sure of that.

He curls his arms around his knees, looking out to the water.

"Haven't seen him in a while - I should probably go and check on him, make sure he hasn't drowned or something."

That'd rank somewhere in the Bad.

Naminé flushed slightly. "I seem to keep encountering people here who don't know me at all. At first, before I understood about realities and timelines, I thought perhaps I was in a bad dream. Or that I'd become a paper shadow, not quite leaving a mark on anything around me." She smiled at him, tentatively. "And I shall remember you, as well. Friends and promises ... both are deeper than memories, down in your heart. Harder to lose." And she would know.

"I doubt he could drown, considering his skill with water. But he may wish to speak with you again. Old friends, once found again, are a treasure." She stared at her sandals, wondering. "I must confess, I'm concerned about ... other friends of his."

"I don't think that'd really be any better than people knowing who you are without you knowing them," he points out. He'd know. "But the timelines and things is just confusing. I'm more taking it on faith than anything else, since there's more than one of you saying it."

He touches her elbow.

"Other friends of his? You're saying that like he's got mobsters or something as friends."

"Oh, I've no doubt that's confusing, as well, though in a very different way. It's hard to say which would be more unnerving, if one tried to compare at all." Naminé looked over at him. "You should speak to some of the others here. There's a girl named Katara whose own brother is someone she knows-but-doesn't. It seems to be almost commonplace, on this island."

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "N-no, nothing like that. I ... I simply don't wish to see them, again." She swallowed hard and stared back over the ocean again, trying not to shiver. "If he ... m-manages to reach them, will you tell me? Please."

He keeps his hand on her elbow for a moment, and then nods.

"Okay. If it stops your voice from sounding like that."

Naminé flushed slightly, looking down. "You mustn't mind me. I seem to have a flare for the melodramatic, lately. Just that ... if he reaches them, I need to know, that's all."

Preferably with enough time that she can portal to anywhere else.

She smiled at him, almost bemused. "I suppose I haven't stopped being cryptic after all, have I?"

He shakes his head.

"Nope. But it makes more sense like this," he says as he lays back, leaning on his elbows and looking at the sky. "Don't worry; I'll let you know."

"I suppose, compared to before, just about anything would make more sense," she said lightly. And then looked over at him for a long moment before nodding. "Thank you. I ... I trust you."

She leaned back a little to look up at the sky herself. "Do you see anything interesting, in the clouds?"

"It's kinda weird, but I know what you mean. It's like... I can't help but trust you. Heh. Maybe it's that future-self thing."

He looks at her for a second, and looks back up at the clouds.

"There's one that looks like a cat, just over there on your left."

Naminé nodded, still considering. "I do know. I only knew you for a short time, before, but ... I thought the same." She shook her head. "Perhaps we're going to be such great friends, in the future, that we can tell already. Or maybe it's a strange sort of kismet. You never know. Perhaps I'm your long-lost twin sister. When's your birthday, anyway?"

She laughed, looking up at the sky again. "Oh, I see it! Taking a nap. Or maybe eyeing that bicycle over to its right."

"January 13th," he says, trying to find the bicycle in the clouds. Maybe it had pedalled away by the time he started looking for it. "Yours?"

He absolutely thinks that if hers is the same, he might well just have to assume they're long-lost twin siblings.

Naminé laughed. "March 9th, unfortunately. So much for that." She looked over at him, considering. "Of course, if this island can hand you a sibling when you arrive, I suppose family works differently here. We shouldn't let a couple of months tell us otherwise."

She looked up to the sky again. "I can't decide if that's a man on a park bench or a very strange-looking butterfly."

He rolls his eyes, and nods. "Yeah, I'll agree with that. Family doesn't mean 'blood', anyway." He counts his friends as family. Well, most of the time.

"I'd say man on a park bench. Butterflies are supposed to be pretty."

Naminé shrugged lightly. "I wouldn't know. I don't have a family. Perhaps that's why I'm so eager to fashion my own, here."

She eyed the cloud again. "I suppose that makes you an idealist, then? Butterflies must be pretty. Maybe they are, even the strange ones, just because they're butterflies."

He shrugs a little himself, as best as he can with his elbows and hands in the sand.

"I thought it was a definining definition of a butterfly. 'Must be prettier than a caterpillar'."

"I should hope there's more to it than that. Otherwise there are kittens out there who might just be butterflies and don't know."

She stretched out a bit, finally lying back on the sand to get a better view of the sky. "And some caterpillars are rather cute, in their way. Unless wings are always pretty."

He laughs.

"You make a good point," he says, and closes his eyes, laying back in the sand with her. "Caterpillars are kinda fuzzy, though. Prickly."

"The fuzzy is a definite point towards the cute, I think. Prickly, perhaps not." Naminé breathed in the sea air with a smile. "Maybe it's a balance. Caterpillars would be far too cute without prickles, like the way roses have thorns. It makes you wonder about butterflies."

"Butterflies don't have thorns or prickles," Roxas points out, logically. "Just patterns. Although their wings are dusty."

"Have you known many butterflies?" she asked. "I didn't know their wings were dusty. And if you can't see their prickles or thorns ... perhaps there's something else, balancing out the beauty. Unnerving thought, that."

He nods. "I caught one when I was smaller. The colour of their wings came off on my hands," he says, and grins. "And their feet tickle."

He then looks over at her, tilting his head.

"We're veering dangerously into the cryptic again. The both of us."

"I never knew that," Naminé mused. "Maybe butterflies aren't dangerous. Maybe they're just ... fragile."

She met his eyes with a smile. "I know. It's completely my fault, I'm afraid. I must be the strange twin. You can be the normal one."

"I think they must be. Their wings aren't very thick."

He chuckles, and it's a strange sound, bubbling in his throat.

"Alright then; I'll be the normal one. As much as it pains me."

"Couldn't be very thick, I suppose, or they'd never fly." Her eyes danced a little with amusement. "Would you rather switch? You can sit and mumble cryptically, and I'll be as normal as I can manage."

He shakes his head, "Nah. I'll be fine as the normal one."

He closes his eyes, his head resting back on the sand.

"You know something, though? I think I'm gonna head back to the cabins. If I stay here I'm gonna fall asleep again, adn I'd really rather do that in my bed," he says, and yawns.

Naminé nodded. "I think I'm just going to sit out here a bit and enjoy the waves. Maybe draw a little."

She smiled. "It was ... good seeing you again. I'm glad that you don't think I'm crazy. Any more so than I already am, that is."

He gets up to his knees, shaking sand from his hair and standing up to brush it off the rest of his body as much as he can.

"I'm sorry I ever thought you were crazy. But don't worry, I'll see you later. It'll be fine - good, even."

He grins at her, sticking his feet back in his shoes, gritting his teeth at the amount of sand he was going to be taking back to the cabins with him.

"See you around, Namine," he says, and a quick spurt of speed, and he's gone.

Naminé laughed, settling back against the sand, and watched him leave. Thinking about everything and nothing all at once.

After a few minutes, she pulled out her sketchpad and began to draw.

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path to the beach, very early sunday morning

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