Namine popped her bubblegum as she dropped her spray can into her bag.

Smirking, she stepped back from her work to see how it turned out. She nodded; it had to have been her best piece yet – in her opinion. Grabbing the white spray can, she knelt down, signing her name at the bottom of the picture.

"Looks like Enima has struck again, huh?"

Namine froze momentarily as she looked over her shoulder. She shook her head, her braids moving slightly at the motions. "You're out early, Roxas."

Putting her spray can into her paint smeared bag and slinging it over her shoulder, she made her way over to her twin brother. "So, do you like it?" she asked, pushing a strand of hair behind her ears.

"It looks alright," Roxas shrugged. "Mom's going to mad though – she told you to stop."

Namine shrugged, blowing another bubble as they started down the dim street. "You won't tell her," Roxas threw her a disbelieving glance, which Namine shrugged. "If you do, I'll tell her about your party last weekend . . ."

"That's not fair," Roxas glared at her, frowning. "Anyways, you're lucky. I told her you'd left already. I brought your backpack and uniform – you're so forgetful."

Namine took the bag he shoved into her arms. "You jerk!" she yelled, as she opened the bag. "You packed me a skirt!"

Roxas snickered, running away from his twin. "You love it, you know it!"

---

Namine sighed, pushing the girls' bathroom door open, her school uniform shoved into her backpack. Her hair pulled back into two messy braids, a black hat over her blonde hair, a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose. Her white tank top was smeared with the paint from the cans, short jean shorts and her flip flops finishing the outfit.

"Nice outfit Nami, where are you going now?"

Namine jumped at the voice, turning around to find Selphie smiling widely at her. "Down to the Underground Lake," Namine said, pushing the school doors open.

Selphie kept up easily, her nose curling up. "Why do you want to go there? It's soo . . . creepy and dank there . . . don't you want to be out in the sun?"

Namine shrugged, heading down the cobbled staircase to the doorway concealed beside the fountain. "I like it, it's quiet and I can think."

Selphie rolled her eyes. "How can you see? It's so . . ."

Namine pushed the door open. "Then don't follow," she shrugged, pushing the door open.

Selphie stopped, blinking as the blonde let go of the door, it falling into place again. She huffed, hands on her hips as she glared at the door. Rolling her eyes, she shrugged it off, turning on her heel to try and find the blonde's twin.

Making her way down the back alley behind the hotel, Namine rooted through her bag for her sketchbook. She idly flipped through her coloured pages, jumping down into the ankle high water as she slipped between the bars of the unused alley. Flipping through her pages, Namine past by her past drawings on the walls, the sound of the rushing water echoing in the abandoned and forgotten alley.

"This might do," she mumbled, stopping on her recent drawing.

Although the page was not very colourful, it was interesting. There was a white castle looming above the darkened city, the moon full, but in the shape of a heart, a pink line encircling the moon-heart. Taking her cerulean eyes off her page, she glanced around at the walls, looking for a space. She frowned, the walls were almost completely covered . . . she'd have to find another abandoned place sometime soon.

Not that it's hard, she thought, letting out a breath. Traverse Town isn't exactly bustling . . .

Finding a small space of brick between two of her older drawings, she grinned. Quickly, she shrugged out of her bag, dropping it to the floor immediately, the aerosol cans clanging together, her school bag sitting farther down near the waters' edge. Kneeling down in front of the bricks, Namine ran her hands over the bricks, brushing off any dirt that could destroy her painting – in her mind, at least. Glancing once more around the alley to make sure no one was around – she normally snuck out the window after dark – she took her spray cans out of her bag and lining them up in front of her, she got to work, propping her sketchbook up against the now-colourful wall.

---

Hours later, Namine stepped back from her artwork to admire it. Although the picture was dominantly black and white – a tad of yellow and pink within it – it stood out in contrast to the bright and colourful pictures on either side of it. Brushing her hands off on her shorts – her mother wouldn't be happy if she came home with paint on her hands again. Picking her sketchbook up, tossing her spray cans into her bag, she slung the bag over her shoulder, and casting another glance around her, started into the water, the rustling water echoing against the walls.

Only when the rustling of the water stopped echoing, did footsteps sound against the cobbled flooring. His cerulean eyes looked at the retreating form of the blonde haired girl, to the contrasting picture she had left on the wall, her name scrawled at the bottom of it. Stepping out of the stairwell's entrance, the taller figure made his way over to the painting, stopping in front of it.

"Who ever would have thought Enima was a high school girl," he mused, frowning at the picture. Shaking his head, he shrugged the large black case off his back, laying it carefully onto the ground. Unzipping the case, he brought the instrument out, leaning against the wall, eyes closed as he tried to tune the instrument. "She was pretty cute . . ."

---

Namine groaned, rolling over in her sleep.

She sighed, frowning, rubbing her eyes.

Midnight, her clock read.

Fidgeting, she sat up in the bed, throwing the covers of her bed back.

She shivered as her feet hit the cold hardwood floor, making her way over to her wide window.

The moon was full, reflecting off the river that ran behind the hotel.

Unable to sleep anymore, Namine made her way over to her closet, swapping her light pajama's for her paint smeared clothes, picking her overused bag from the closet as well. Being the middle of summer, Namine didn't have to worry about her window creaking as she opened it, slipping out onto the balcony and down the lattice work lining the back of the hotel, ivy climbing up it.

Namine let out a sigh of relief as the water rushed around her ankles, the damp underground calming her as she slipped between the bars.

Her tranquility . . . and only hers.

Namine paused, a frown coming to her features as she heard a light melody. She blinked, continuing tentatively into the alleyway, the walls opening up into the circular room. She paused in the mouth of the alleyway, her eyes taking it all the surroundings. For once, she had to curse the dark lights making it hard for her to see.

The melody continued as she looked.

Namine let out a low gasp as her eyes fell upon her most recent painting. Someone was sitting beneath it, their eyes trained on their guitar.

Namine walked slowly closer to them, not wanting to interrupt their melody. "That's beautiful," she whispered as she stopped before him.

Taking his eyes off his guitar, he cast his cerulean eyes up to her. "Thanks Enima," he said with a crooked smile.

Namine blanked. How did he know?

She looked up as he laughed, smiling at her, placing his guitar back into the black case at his feet. "You're really good, you know, at painting," he said, indicating behind him. "You should set up a stall out in the market square, people would pay for these. It's a shame for them to be here."

Namine watched as he spoke, placing his guitar into his case, before standing the case against the wall, brushing his khaki's off, a short sleeved, half zippered shirt finishing off his outfit.

"Thanks." Namine smiled, as he shouldered his guitar.

"No problem," he shrugged, moving away from the wall, passing Namine. "I was surprised the first time I came here and saw your fist painting – you've gotten better. I knew if I stayed here, I'd get to see you eventually. I never thought you'd be a high school girl though."

"Is that bad?" Namine asked, keeping pace with him.

The blonde laughed, rustling her hair. "No, we're the same age then," he grinned, the light catching on his earring. "Say, what's your name?"

"Namine," she said, shifting her bag as she ended up back in the alleyway. "Yours?"

He grinned back at her, stopping suddenly. Namine blinked in surprise, walking into his back.

"What was that –" she got caught off as he quickly brushed his lips against hers.

"See you later, Namine," he called, waving over his shoulder at the frozen blonde.

Namine blinked, dumbly waving back to him as he disappeared through the door leading to the Market Square. Shaking her head as the door swung shut loudly in the silence, she raised an eyebrow.

Who the heck was that?

Her eyes narrowed, he never said! Rolling her eyes, she dropped her bag to the ground – her spray cans clanging loudly in the silence – did she start after him, her steps turning into a run.

---

A/N: So who exactly was that?

It should be obvious

But I'll tell you anyways!

It's . . . Demyx!

He needs more stories . . .