@wieldingtwilight
Kairi sat alone where the ocean met the shore, her knees drawn to her chest, her fingers absently twisting the edge of her dress. The warmth of the sand beneath her was a poor echo of his touch, the scent of salt and hibiscus no comfort compared to the sound of his laugh, now missing—gone where she could not follow.
And yet, the sea still sang. The breeze still played with her hair. The world had not stopped, even when her heart had cracked in silence.
Above her, gulls wheeled once before vanishing into the deepening blue. She watched them go without really seeing, eyes distant, fixed on some horizon no ship could reach. Her mouth did not move, but her soul called out—not loudly, not desperately, just a whisper carried on the wind like a falling petal:
Xion.
She’d never truly met her—not in the way memories usually allowed—but something in her heart knew the shape of the girl who’d never had a place. A flicker of sorrow wrapped in kindness. A name spoken in dreams. And now, with Sora gone—pulled away into the dark by threads she couldn’t cut—Kairi longed for someone who might understand. Someone who carried the same kind of ache. The tide rolled in, brushing against her toes like a quiet touch. She didn’t move.
Somewhere beyond the hush of waves and wind, she hoped the thread between hearts would stir—subtle, tremulous, but real. Not a scream. Not a cry. Just a stillness waiting to be shared. The stars would come soon. Maybe then, she’d find her. Maybe Xion would hear her silence.
