VIII.
I went to his funeral today, Sora's son. The man who claimed to be part of a Union that, if we were to judge by his words and actions, clearly had no tolerance for we Nobodies. I reported directly to our Council after the attack, and described every detail leading up to, and regarding the incident.
As an Organization, we have learned from the mistakes of the past. If we allow one of us to claim a full leadership role as Xemnas, the 'Superior' did, then we would be setting ourselves up for failure, and chaos. As such, we have an elected council of seven, Numbers I-VII. These Numbers are in title only, each one heading over a different area of expertise. Number I assigns missions. Number II could be called the head of our military. Number III manages lower Nobodies (i.e. the Dusks and Creepers.) Numbers IV and V orchestrate the training and recruitment of Nobodies, along with orientation. Finding yourself suddenly without a heart does require some explanation. Number VI presides over construction projects, while Number VII is a sort of internal security. Together, they form the Council, and are elected every five years. Very efficient, and without hearts, greed and power lust is hardly a factor. Once their terms are up, they take up their original Numbers once more, and cannot run again for fifteen years, regardless of which role they played.
I agreed with their judgment, and, assuming what one would call 'ordinary' funeral attire, I traveled to the Islands once more. Either by coincidence or perhaps the Heart of the World's response to the amount of sorrow I would have to assume every funeral attendee had in their own hearts, the sky was overcast, and rain seemed to be a certainty in the near future. Easily over one hundred people were in attendance, and I blended in perfectly. I made certain to keep my dirt-blond hair combed back, and my beard trimmed for this occasion. Feigning the right amount of sadness, one wouldn't suspect I was a Nobody. And since so many people seem to think that we are little more than emotionless machines, it would have been the last place anyone would have suspected one of us to appear.
I had to wonder if there were any other members of this Union attending. I would think if they had this man's sort of fanaticism they would honor a fallen comrade in public. I said little in the time leading up to the actual burial, which took place on a small island, the entirety of which acted as the graveyard for all of the others. I kept my head down, so everyone must have assumed I was grieving as much as the next person. I spotted Clara, standing next to her weeping mother and the rest of her family, surprisingly stoic when compared to the rest of them. The Master himself was next to the young girl, his wheelchair pushed right up next to the casket of his son, his eyes unable to hide the suffering his heart must have felt. It occurred to me, judging by the whispers that went through the mourners, that none of them were aware that he took his own life. They all spoke of him being killed, cut down, when in truth that it was not I that had caused all of this grief and hurt in so many people, but the man they were all weeping for.
Sadistic, by any definition.
The service was given and directed by a tall, strongly built man, who in my opinion should have considered cutting his neck-length black hair instead of letting it fall in front of his eyes, (edited note: It occurred to me later that he bore a certain resemblance to an Original Organization member, Zexion.) He drew my attention because of his eyes. Steel grey, like mine, but with a vaguely familiar sort of spark in them. The same sort of spark I saw as a would-be assassin ended his own life.
After several minutes, the ceremony was complete, and the grave buried. The suspicious speaker went with Sora and his family elsewhere while the crowd dispersed. I moved to leave also, but in the corner of my eye, I spotted a small figure still standing by the freshly packed earth. Somehow, it did not surprise me when it turned out to be young Clara, still staring impassively at the Key-shaped tombstone that had been placed during the ceremony. The phenomenon occurred once again at that moment. My body turned of its own, and went to the child. I was helpless in my own body, so I was forced to adapt to the situation, standing next to the child. I had no idea if she recognized me or not, as we just stood there for several minutes, silent except for the crash of waves, the brush of the wind, and the smell of an oncoming storm heavy in the air. I was considering leaving, before she spoke, her voice little more than a whisper.
"Poppa said he was going out to kill a monster, and that he'd come home tomorrow and bring that ice cream Grampa likes so much."
A monster, am I? How refreshing.
"He promised me he was going to come home, and he always keeps his promise...why'd he lie to me, Nilex? Why'd my Poppa let the Monster kill him? It was his job to go and kill monsters and make everyone safe, and then come home to me, and Diz, and Momma, so why'd he lie!?"
The child was weeping now, like her mother had been. The first act of sorrow I think this girl has ever truly expressed, and the only witness was a creature that had no heart and had, in a sense, been partly responsible for this tragedy. While I may not find anything funny, I certainly can pick out the universe throwing irony in our faces. That aside, I had to say something. This girl could be a font of information in the future, so it was best to have her as an ally...
"It wasn't your father's fault, Clara." A boldfaced lie. "I'm sure your father had every intention of coming home to you, he simply was not strong enough to kill this particular...monster."
I learned then that my skills with children in emotional pain are lacking. She began bawling, and sputtering facts about just how strong her Poppa was, and how many Heartless he killed, and how he never lost, and other such nonsense. Most likely lies considering what little I knew of the man's character, but in this situation, I came up with a lie of my own.
"Clara, not everyone can win every time. Don't tell anyone, but I was there that night." She stopped crying immediately save for a few sniffles, and looked at me with those wide, bloodshot violet eyes. "You asked why I have tired eyes? Well, I fight some monsters too. I had been hunting the same one your Poppa had been, but I got held back by a fire the monster had set to a barn, so your Poppa went ahead to hold off the monster while I pulled people from the fire."
To be honest, I set the barn ablaze to erase any trace that I had rested there, so how was she to know?
"I got there just as it looked like your Poppa cut the wicked beast down. He looked quite amazing, like a knight slaying a dragon. Everything seemed fine, but it struck him with its tail while it died, there was no preventing it. I held him as he passed, and do you know what he said to me? He said that he loved his family so very much, and that he just hoped you'd forgive him for not keeping his promise."
Whether she fully trusted me or not, I still do not know, but she started crying again, and hugged to my leg. I was forced to attempt and console her, by patting her head. (Another edited note: Why are people always crying when they hug me?) But, eventually, she calmed, just as the rain began. We walked to wards the dock, where everyone was caught up in the post-funeral reception, and she spoke again.
"Nilex?"
"Yes, Clara?"
"I didn't know you fought monsters with my Poppa and Uncle Alastor..."
"Uncle Alastor?"
"Mhm..well, he's not REALLY my Uncle, but he and Poppa were best friends with all their Union friends, and they all hunt monsters, and since you do too, I thought you were part of them?"
"No..like I told you, I'm just a traveler who was in the wrong place at the wrong time....which one is Alastor?"
She pointed to the man with the grey eyes who had spoken at the burial.
-IX
