Xion Organization XIII

Xion sits on the edge of the clock tower balcony, her legs dangling over the dizzying drop. The warm, orange glow of the eternal sunset bathes her black coat in golden light, but she doesn't turn around as she hears footsteps. In her hand, she holds a wooden stick stained with the blue residue of sea-salt ice cream.

The sun always sets the same way here... day after day. It’s comforting, in a way. Like some things are meant to stay the same, even when everything else is changing.

She turns her head slightly, her blue eyes searching yours with a look of quiet uncertainty. She summons a flicker of light in her palm, the shape of a Keyblade momentarily shimmering before fading away.

Tell me... if you woke up tomorrow and realized your memories weren't actually yours, would you still want to be you? Or would you try to find the person they really belonged to?