Vincula Amicitiae [Bonds of Friendship] - KH Fanfic contest

[VexenReplica 154]

Hey everyone, this is my first attempt at writing fanfic, so enjoy! 

 

~~~

 

“You are nothing more than just an imitation,” he would always tell me. I would nod, glancing at my boots – the stock black ones that everybody (if we were even people) wore. He had told us from the start that we were nothing more than copies of him. We existed only as failed experiments, serving no purpose other than to occupy space.

 

If we did even occupy space.

 

Vexen made our lives bearable in the most simplistic term of the word. He created us, and then left us out on our own. We could not be human, deprived of a heart that could dwell within us. Whenever someone joined our group of failed copies, he always asked why we couldn’t live inside the white castle. The answer was simple: it is for those who serve a purpose. We do not.

 

But there was this one imitation who defied its place. Originally it was placed in our group, but then, shortly after, showed signs of success. Vexen himself came out and re-acquired this clone, apparently surprised at its progress and development. It was a prototype, a new development, and it was expected to fail. We had all heard the same speech when we had awoken. But, finally, one made it through. It broke through the barrier of failure and became something. Nearly someone.

 

Later we learned that this stranding was intentional. But that's another side to another story.

 

This is the story of the first Replica in the Program.

 

It came out to us on another bland, cold night; all the heat was sucked into the white castle to run Vexen’s machinery. Another always came to us on those nights, as it signaled that a new prototype was being fabricated. We huddled together in groups of twos and threes outside the rear exit, waiting to see our new comrade. It did not take long to see that Vexen had a new blueprint. This creature stood erect coming out on the steps, unlike the rest of us, hunched over and depressed, shivering in the cold.

 

A few days prior, we had seen what we had assumed to be the Original being led in by another like us – black trench coat with the black boots, but hair vibrant with fiery energy, contrasting his dark and brooding exterior. We had seen his type before, entering and leaving the castle. As for the Original, it was dressed in black attire, but hair much akin to ours (and therefore Vexen’s as well). It looked confused and dazed, as if not fully conscious.  We had taken nothing of it – another privileged Original taken in to be immortalized in a lesser substance that would last eternally. It had happened before, and it would happen again.

 

But the creation – what had become of the copy – was far more strange and different than what normally came out of the doors. It stood tall, proud to occupy the space that it was given. Vexen, strangely, followed it. The master spoke.

 

“See to it that she is taken care of,” he spoke in an abrasive tone.

 

“She?” one of the copies questioned. “What is a ‘she’?”

 

“A ‘she’ is a subcategory of human existence. One can be born into one of three existances: a he, which denotes a masculine undertone, a she, which denotes a feminine undertone, or an it, an indeterminate creature. This Replica is posing as a she, unlike you Replicas, who pose as hes, with reference to me,” Vexen replied nonchalantly. “In summation, its original was a ‘she.’ Your original, mainly myself, was a he.”

 

Vexen then walked back into the white castle. We huddled around this strange creation, perplexed at what we saw. It looked similar to us, but in some aspects was quite different. It kept its hood up, just as we had our first days out of the castle. It was silent. We then disbanded, slowly, as the new Replica just stood on the steps, not moving. I stopped for a moment, letting the other copies walk by, looking for shelter in the bleak night. I wondered, while searching, what Vexen had meant when he had made his first comment. By what did he mean for her to be taken care of? Vexen had explained to us what a ‘she’ was, but not what we were supposed to do with this ‘she.’ Perhaps he would come out and explain it to us. Doubtful.

 

Then, I reasoned, I ought to go to him. Perhaps he will have some time to explain to me what ‘to be taken care of’ means. I turned around and walked back to the large silver doors, the entryway into the white castle. The Replica was still there, all alone. I walked up to the doors and pounded on them. No response. Again. No response. I stood at the door for about an hour, knocking on the door. But, just like all the other times I had knocked, there was no response. I sat, unsure of how to continue. How could I, without knowing what ‘to be taken care of’ meant?

 

The Replica turned toward me. I believe that was the first time it had moved since Vexen had gone back into the castle. It, slowly and haltingly, stepped towards me, and once it was reasonably close to me, sat down on the cold concrete steps.

 

“What did you want from him?” the Replica murmured in the chilly night. The moon had just started to come up from the horizon. I was surprised to hear it speak. I do not believe I spoke a word until a few days after my release from the white castle.

 

She spoke up again: “So, where would you like to go in this world? One day, I’d like to go to the beach. I want to hear the sound of the surf hitting the sand. My original went to the beach; in fact, he lived there for many years.”

 

I did not immediately respond; I was trying to formulate the best way to convey my message to it about my lack of comprehension.

 

“You don’t talk much, do you?” she said.

 

I nodded.

 

“Well, take your time.”

 

I thought about it for a few minutes. The Replica was looking at the stars and the moon.

 

“For you first question… I… I wanted to know what Vexen meant by stating ‘to be taken care of.’” I stammered.

 

The Replica looked at me, and then back up at the dark sky. “You know, I don’t really know either.”

 

“Then I can’t adequately do my job, can I? Vexen’s word is sacred. He is our creator. If I cannot do what he asks, do I deserve to live?”

 

“It’s funny, isn’t it,” the Replica murmured. “Vexen is so close to you guys here, but you never see him. I watched you when I was inside, and you looked like you had nothing to do. Vexen is so close to you. And you guys are so close to him.”

 

“There’s… a communication gap.”

 

“I got that.”

 

“But still… what does he mean…?”

 

The door creaked open. The Replica and I turned around to see Vexen standing there, in the doorway. He looked tired and slightly annoyed.

 

“Which of you was knocking?” he grunted at us.

 

“I, sir,” I responded.

 

“Well?”

 

“Sir, what does it mean… your phrase ‘to be taken care of,’ in reference to the Replica?”

 

“It is a phrase that is commonly used by those with hearts,” Vexen replied. “To take care of someone means to be a friend… another concept you can’t grasp. I have memories of it, but you don’t. To take care of someone is to make sure that they are alive and content.”

 

“Content, sir?”

 

“To not have any worries or needs. It also means being with the person if he ever needs you. Do you grasp this concept?”

 

I shook my head, confused.

 

“As you should be. You have no memories of emotions, nor will you ever. Just… make sure no harm comes to this Replica. It may have use in the future.” Vexen turned around and left, closing the door behind him.

 

“And there he goes…” the Replica said. We stared, together, at the sky and stars and moon.The moon was so full of life and energy, unlike us. It was peaceful.

 

And then the Replica convulsed on the steps. It was jerking this way and that, moving painfully. The Replica’s hands were around its cloaked head, trying to take it off, as if the cloak was suffocating it. It screamed a loud and choking scream.

 

And then, as soon as it had come onto the Replica, it vanished. The Replica lay prone on the concrete steps. No other clone but me was there nor came to help. It looked like the cloak was the issue, so I reached down and gently took it off. It had no face; it was just a brown cloth stitched to a cloth neck, which I assumed went to a cloth body as well. How it spoke with no mouth was a mystery to me, but I knew better than to question it. Vexen was a master craftsman. He could make an inanimate creature talk, and who was I to use logic to rationalize what was going on?

 

I then remembered that beforehand, I had never answered the Replica’s second question. The place that I would like to visit. I turned around. Maybe one day...

 

The doors opened again and Vexen meandered out. He saw the Replica lying, sprawled out on the steps. He looked at me, and then back at the Replica.

 

“Good,” he mused. “It’s feeling and absorbing Sora’s memories. It is time to take it to No. I, Xemnas.”

 

He saw me, sitting next to the shell. He looked as if he wanted to say something to me, but just shrugged and took the lifeless Replica back into the castle.

 

The doors shut behind him. 

 

~~~

 

Thanks for reading!