Counterfeit Heart: Convergence

con⋅ver⋅gence – noun
the point at which things meet; the act of meeting.

Ten years. Ten long years. That's the amount of time since Aqua's death, since he'd been launched onto a never-ending journey from world to world. He'd been constantly plagued, too, since then. The offenders are small, black creatures, but sometimes they are large and fierce instead. Either way, they are always there, and he rarely gets to stay in one place long because of them.

Not that he cares, really. He can't, after all. It's just not in his nature.

So it's all normal when he finds himself sitting amongst tall, tall buildings in the pouring rain. He'd long since gotten himself a brown cloak to protect himself from the elements. It is coarse and rough, but it works. That's all that matters.

It's in this city, though, that his life's course is suddenly and drastically altered, all with one simple action. As the rain pours down, suddenly, it is no longer touching him. Cerulean eyes shift upward, and there, smiling down at him, is a kindly blond man with teal eyes. He's holding an umbrella over him, even though it means the man is getting soaked.

"You'll catch cold if you stay out here in the rain. Don't you have somewhere to go?" he asks, perfectly amiable with this complete stranger. Sora blinks, then tilts his head. He doesn't understand. Place to go?

"…No."

A simple response, really. And the simple truth. He doesn't have anywhere to go-hasn't for ten years. He's been a vagrant, wandering from world to world. There's no such thing as family or home, as they're abstract concepts he's never understood.

"…Then come stay with me for awhile. Just until the rain clears up?" the blond offers, leaning down and holding out a hand. Slowly, the brunet takes his hand, and he's pulled up. The blond then leads the way, jabbering about how the kid needs dry clothes and such.

~*~

They're now sitting in a large penthouse, the two of them at a table. Sora's been dressed in the other one's clothes, just to be kept dry, and there's now a stack of pancakes before him. The brunet blinks up, and notes the expectant grin on the blond's face.

Forcing a smile-something he'd only seen other people do and is awkward for him-he begins to dig into the warm food. It immediately warms him a little, and so he decides to eat more-for practical reasons.

"So, your name's… Sora, right? I'm Dyme."

A simple introduction. Just what Sora likes, and he forces another awkward smile and a nod. The blond then sets to quickly cleaning up his kitchen, giving a small giggle and a squeal.

"Hey, Sora… You have anywhere to go tonight?"

The question is out of the blue. Sora glances up, and thinks it over. What is he supposed to say? He's not good with emotions or emotional people, and he doesn't doubt that what he says next will trigger something in the poor man.

"…No. I've nowhere to go, ever. I simply wander."

It's a matter-of-fact statement, and immediately, he regrets it. There's a loud sound of disbelief from the man, who slams his hands down on the table. His eyes are wide, and he looks like his brain can't really wrap around the concept of Sora not having a home.

"What!? B-But… But you're only seventeen! You should have a home and be in school and not having to worry about things like your next meal…!" he insists, flailing his arms every which direction they'll go.

"Aqua is dead. I had no reason to stay at the facility after that." Another matter-of-fact response, and it's not liked by the other. In fact, he seems confused and uneasy, as if he doesn't know to approach the topic now.

"…Aqua…? …Who is she, your mother…?" Dyme asks, switching back to being calm for the moment. Sora considers his response, teal eyes watching him think. Finally, he just shrugs and takes a drink of his hot chocolate.

"…She created me, so, in that sense, I suppose she is my mother…" he says, musing quietly over this all. Immediately, there are arms around him and he can hear the steady thmp-thmp of a heartbeat. His head is pressed to Dyme's chest, and he can only blink. This is such an odd position…

"You poor thing! All alone in the world… I know! I'll talk to Braig! You can stay here long as you need!"

Dyme looks for the phone, digging for it everywhere. Finally, it is found, a call is made, and before he knows it, he's being ushered off to another room. The door is opened, and Sora is greeted by a bedroom.

It's beautiful, Sora supposes-not that he knows. To judge beauty requires emotion. There is a large bed with mahogany head and footboards, a matching dresser, varying other odds and ends… The bed is dressed in fine blues in patterns like the open sky, and even the walls are colored like the sky has come to rest in this very room.

The sky… Cerulean eyes flutter shut, and memories flood his senses.

Aqua is lying down on her back, bleeding from numerous wounds. She is dying, but he doesn't-can't-care. She's only alive because of a personal mission, he can tell, and now that it's complete, she is fading.

But as she lies there, she gazes up at the sky through a hold left in the ceiling. The dark room full of gears and machinery is now illuminated, seeming, perhaps, even hopeful and beautiful. And as Aqua lies dying, there are tears in her eyes.

"…The sky… …His eyes always… …Reflect the sky…"

It's borderline delirious, what she's saying. But he can only stand there over her, listening to her dying words. Her heartbeat, which he can somehow feel without touching her, is fluttering faintly, the muscle working hard to pump blood that only ends up escaping through wounds.

She turns her head slightly, capturing his blue eyes with her own ocean-colored ones. They remain like this for a moment, almost as if the two are frozen in time. And there, so much is said between them. About how she hopes he can one day find what he needs in life, that he won't always have to run, that she didn't fail him and he'll live…

"…Just like yours…"

Her final words, and then she's gone. The woman who created him is no more, her heart giving out under the pressure of having next to nothing to pump, her lungs giving one last shuddering breath. No more is the lonely woman to smile or cry or hold him close and apologize for reasons he doesn't or can't even begin to comprehend.

He stares down at her, and all he can think about is how, even at Death's Door, Aqua is smiling.