towerofanimus | The meaning of being lonely

Characters:

reverse_destiny and you!
Setting: Floor eleven
Format: I will change to suit
Summary: Sora is realizing how alone he really is with no Ansem to order him around. An identity crisis ensues.
Warnings: Possible psychological stuff and violence. If anything else crops up, I'll add it.

Alone. Alone. Alone alone alonealonealonealonealonealone--

Even surrounded by other survivors, others who are trapped here and finding themselves at the whims of this strange place, Sora finds himself alone. But that's what he wanted, right? To always be alone with Dad so no one could ever hurt him? But... Dad isn't here now. He's not been abandoned, but he still finds himself yearning for more contact, more interaction that's positive. Praise, attention, anything so long as he isn't alone anymore. And yet...

And yet he just sits here in the open air, on the side of that strange lake. The Green Requiem and the Shadow both tumble about behind him, paying no heed to the boy they came with. the sound of the waterfall, at least, is somewhat comforting--a constant rush and ripple of water, drowning out his own thoughts while the creatures, oblivious to the internal plight of their master, roll across the floor and enjoy themselves.

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She left him to his silence until he chose to end it, and when he did... well, her expression was very telling. It betrayed both her surprise and her immediate concern; why ask something like that unless that was what was bothering him? The weight of her own experiences crept up on her and forced her eyes toward the ground.

"...Yes." And what it was like to be worse than alone. "Very... very well."

"...How... Do you stop?" he asks after a moment. He's only ever had Ansem and the Heartless. But now, there's only two Heartless and Dad's nowhere to be found. He's... Alone, really.

"...." It was... ironic, really, to be explaining this to the alternate version of the person who saved her from exactly that, but that thought didn't cross her mind. "...Find someone to be your friend." It seemed like too obvious an answer. "There are-- a lot of good people here." ...And some not so good ones.

"...Friends? I... Haven't had friends that aren't Heartless in years..." he says with a sort of bitter laugh. It's true, though, isn't it? Humans were the things he didn't have to deal with. He'd been pretty much isolated since Dad took him in...

The sympathy that was already there only grew. It was difficult to imagine what kind of life this Sora must have lived. "You can still try, can't you?"

"...I destroy worlds. Kinda late, wouldn't you think?" he asks, now seeming a bit bitter at his whole situation. Maybe some people are meant to be alone, like him? He isn't sure. He wasn't good at that psychology stuff. That's Dad's department.

There was definitely that, although it was nearly impossible for her to imagine ANY Sora deciding to do that of their own volition unless coerced. She chose to swallow her discomfort. "...But you're still alive. The rest of your life can be different, if... you want it to be."

He wasn't coerced, just raised that way. It'll take a long time for him to change that aspect of himself, too.

"...Maybe."

He's not so sure, though. He's seen the worst sides of humanity, so he's not nearly that optimistic.

~~One might say that's one form of coercion.~~

She was quiet for a long moment, uncertain whether or not it was dangerous to say what she was thinking. On the one hand, it could encourage something good, and on the other, it might encourage something dangerous. "...What you do next is your choice, here. We can't leave, but-- they don't tell us what to do, either." He was probably aware of that, but it was a point she frequently had to bring up with herself.

"...I'm not used to having that option."

It's easy enough to admit. Ansem used to order him to do things. There wasn't much room for choice. So it's a very new concept for him, and part of what has him so lost.

She could definitely understand that. "I'm not, either." Her admission was slightly colored by relief and also a tiny hint of... shame? Or was it embarrassment? "But I guess we both have to learn."

"Learn... Can you learn that?"

It's genuine curiosity. He isn't sure. He's never had friends or had someone to talk to like this. It's strange, as if a piece of him fell back into place just by talking to her.

Offering a smile she hoped was encouraging, she nodded. "Everyone has to learn it some time. We're just... doing it a little later than most people." Well, a lot later than most people, considering almost everyone has some kind of choice about what to do at some point in their early childhood.

"...Yeah."

He's quiet then, just sitting there with the Heartless and then Naminé and it's peaceful. It's strange, and nice. And it's like something he didn't know was lacking is suddenly being filled in.

"...Thanks."

She made no attempt to break the silence herself. Oddly enough, it wasn't so bad an experience, sitting there with him -- or, rather, she'd been concerned at first, but now it was getting harder and harder to be intimidated. It was almost like he'd never said anything about destroying worlds, at least for an instant; then she glanced at the Heartless and was reminded all over again. Still, what she'd said held true. His future didn't have to be that way. Hadn't she seen enough people find redemption to believe that it could happen for him, too? He still hadn't really said anything about the details of why he did why he did, after all.

The thanks were unexpected, and she turned her head quickly to focus on him. After the moment it took to process that, her mouth spread into a gentl smile. "You're welcome."

"...Naminé, right? That's a nice name."

It's an off-hand comment, awkward in an attempt to make conversation and yet sincere. He's enjoying her company, really, even if he's also awkward about it because he has no idea what to do. He's not socialized in the least, so he has to do guess work on how people actually talk to each other normally.

The compliment was thoroughly surprising and that surprise showed fairly clearly on her face for the brief moments before it was replaced by a smile. "Yes, that's right. ...Thank you." She was quite familiar with the certain amount of difficulty a lack of experience added to socialization; in fact, she was stuck casting about for something else to say, herself. After a moment, "Yours is nice, too." Her tone is ever so slightly questioning, but it's out of that same uncertainty about what to say rather than any doubt about that being the truth.

He smiles a bit--just slightly, not too much--and then goes back to looking over the water. He's not sure what else to say, but he's feeling much better. There's someone here and he's not alone anymore.

The meaning of being lonely

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