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Roxas admired his face in the mirror, the glass cold beneath his fingertips. He turned his head from side to side, intently staring at the baby face still clinging on for dear life. This was Soras face.
Roxas was too pale, the pale cold lights of the castle and sun beating down on him during missions was the only source of vitamin D he got. Soras face was littered with freckles and he had a nice, tan skin color. It was expected for an islander. A weird feeling overcame Roxas, he wondered if he’d look like that too after many trips to the beach.
Roxas hated his face, yet his body was all he had aside from his name. All the scars he collected from endless battles were all he could really call ‘stories’ of his own. Maybe Roxas really only hated his face because that wasn’t even his own either, it was Soras. It was a pretty face, he hated that thought.
After he found out who Sora was he couldn’t help but stay awake to look at his own body aimlessly. There’s a beauty mark on the small of his back, is that his or Soras? Are these knobby knees his? What about these crooked teeth? He hated Sora, Roxas decided. He hated him.
When he looked at the pictures Naminé drew of Sora he can’t help to think that no one ever could encapsulate the beauty of him. Never. Roxas thinks she knows that too, by the knowing smile she sends his way. Maybe she understands how he feels too. She also comes from Sora. A weird feeling in his stomach arises at that, but he’s never been able to tell what it is. Or really anything he feels.
Looking at Soras face when he is finally returning to him, he can’t help but think he was right about everything. They really were no match for the real thing.
—
Roxas inspected his face in the mirror, this time not in Naminés room in castle oblivion but now his own in twilight town. Not a simulation or anything, he was finally real.
Unlike before, he had acne scars littering his face, cheekbones that now stood taller and baby fat almost gone completely. He was older now. He finally had his own birthday now too. His own face and everything. It was the little things but Roxas treasured them so. The way the bridge of his nose was slightly raised, how his eyes were more downcast and eyebags seemed permanent. His teeth were straight too, yet Xion expected him to get braces along with her because she didn’t want to do it alone.
This was his body, his own. When he scratches his back he has to do a double take at not being able to feel the small bump of a beauty mark. When he looks in the mirror he sees himself, not the one he yearns for.
Sora is far away now, he kind of has been since the beginning. Sora has always been a presence that was so close to Roxas that he could almost feel it everywhere he went, yet it was never close enough to stay. When he confessed that to Kairi, she understood completely.
It took getting used to Kairi. They had only ever spoken once, and it was when Roxas had almost died in the simulation. She looked a lot like Xion, but again, the differences were stark. Roxas found it weird that Kairi related to his feelings at first, but then remembered that Kairi has also been victim to always being left out and left behind. It was almost scary how similar they were in that aspect.
For a long time he thought he hated her, but then when he actually took the time to learn about feelings, he realized he just saw a lot of himself in Kairi. Wanting to do so much that in the end you do much of nothing at all.
Roxas blinks out of his thoughts, his face staring back at him from the glass. It was strange. It was his face, yet he felt disgruntled at the sight of it. Multiple times he had to stop himself from getting angry and start picking at his skin.
He was just tired now, not having any energy to nitpick at it. He wonders how Sora looks now, he didn’t get a good look at him when he was finally awakened for the final battle. He wonders if his skin is still as tan despite his time flying in space. He hopes that Sora will come back before he forgets his face.
He stares, and stares, but Roxas is not looking for himself.