a/n: Alright, to be honest readers, the earlier version of this story wasn't exactly my best. I rushed through it and I didn't put my best effort into telling the story, and even if it sounded good, I know I can't continue a story I don't put my heart into. This is the same as the earlier version, except a whole lot better, because I'm thinking this time and I'm going to make sure I'm proud of my work.

note: There will be slash and mentions of fem!slash in this story. If it's not your cup of tea, then please hit the backspace button. There will be mentions of drugs, sex and alcohol.

Also, if you'd like a visual representation of Naminé's/other character's outfits, there's a link on my profile: Story Linkage that will lead you to pictures.

disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts belongs to Square Enix and Disney. All quotes, songs and references used belong to their respective owners. I do not make any profit for this work.

props to: John Green & Iain Thomas.

Without further ado: 'Drown'

& bgm: Conversations With My 13-year-old Self - P!nk

Drown

Ten Years Ago

If you really think about it, is there a moral to the story of The Ugly Duckling?

The duckling didn't exactly do anything so good or so righteous that the sun started streaming out of his fluffy duckling bottom. All he did was silently endure all of the torture that was thrown at him. He froze in a pond and was dunked in butter by mean little kids. He was hoping for something better, a random stroke of luck, right? And by chance- boom! You might be an ugly duck, but you're a beautiful something else! It was luck. Unpredictable, unattainable luck. And no amount of four-leaf clovers is going to rearrange the shape of your face, is it? Can the ugly duckling morals be applied to humans, concerning appearance? NO! They can't! So what becomes of malformed, ugly kids, huh? They're forced to deal with the hand that they've got- or should I say face?

To this young eight-year-old girl, it was a harsh reality that she often found herself refusing to wake to. Of course, I know what you're thinking, how was an eight-year-old exposed to that kind of harsh realisation so early? Well, it wasn't like it was printed on the back of her cereal box, or tattooed into her skin as soon as the very idea of vanity came to realisation. The despised idea of ugliness was ingrained into her brain, etched into her skin, branded into her bones. Because of it she found herself staring into the mirror for hours on end, or avoiding it all together, like her reflection was the living embodiment of the devil itself.

Children could be so cruel.

Naminé couldn't explain where the never ending brutal streak came from, or what even fuelled their hatred for her. She didn't know her face alone could incite absolute rage like it did in her tormentors, but apparently something about the slope of her nose, or the distance between her eyes animated some kind of primal passive-aggressiveness that resulted in –you guessed it- bullying. She was trying to figure out the formula right now, staring into her reflection in the girl's bathroom. Examining herself for some kind of scream-inducing deformity.

She pressed two fingers to the tip of her nose, sliding them across her cheek, pulling the flesh of her eyes down. Naminé liked her eyes. Her stepfather called them 'lake eyes', which wasn't an official term, but she entertained the thought that something about her could be as majestic and beautiful as a lake by sunset. They were the only facet of her face that she could proudly say she adored. But the rest of her; squashed-in nose, her too red, puffy cheeks, too-thin lips, large ears, dirty blond hair and round face, all accounted to a horrifying look that the other kids despised and detested, or at least, Xion Shapiro did.

Xion was who all the other girls aspired to be. She was rich, she was pretty, and she had total control of the entire second grade. Naminé's own family was wealthy as could be, possibly wealthier than Xion's, but the young blond couldn't afford to add more fire to the flames that were spurring the most popular girl in school to hate her more. Instead she kept her distance, envying her from afar. Xion was the arguably the cutest little darling to ever grace the face of Rising Falls Elementary. She had a cute button nose, big blue eyes, rosy cheeks, perfectly shaped lips as well as long, silky black hair that went all the way down to her hips.

How was she supposed to compete with that? Easy. She didn't.

What she did was sit in the Prayer Garden, a small little hollow hidden by the trees, housing a few picnic tables and a small pond, minding her own business. She'd reflect on the reasons why she couldn't play with the other kids, all the time. Her dad said that she was too good for them, that they just didn't get her. But what he didn't understand was that she would sell her soul for a chance to play Tag or Hide & Seek with them, because all Naminé wanted to be, was accepted. Instead she passed the time quietly eating, drawing and finishing her homework early.

This worked for her, because it minimised the damage she knew they could cause, without one ounce of guilt weighing them down.

& bgm: Halcyon - Ellie Goulding

Eight Years Ago

In grade four they were assigned tables. Naminé was placed next to one of Xion's best friends. Her name was Kairi Blackwood, and was arguably just as pretty, maybe even prettier than Xion. Despite the fact that she was her right hand girl, Kairi was actually very nice and was even willing to avoid performing the normal torture regime when it came to sitting next to Naminé. She was easily as popular as Xion, coming from a wealthy fashion designer mom, and being as cute as a button. She had all the features of a doll, perfect face and gorgeous red-velvet hair that even Xion couldn't beat. That was why she kept Kairi on such a tight leash, because she was the kind of girl that could easily surpass her in popularity, should Kairi ever break the chokehold that the dictator had on her.

To be completely cautious, Naminé kept as much distance between herself and Kairi as physically possible, but fate had other plans, of course. One day the red-head forgot her pencil case and she was forced to ask Naminé if she could use her supplies.

"Sure," she answered, because she couldn't exactly say no. To do so would be even deeper social suicide.

Over time Kairi came to rely on Naminé's utensils because 'they're just so much better than mine, and I have no idea where you buy them'. But for some reason Kairi was content to not ask where Naminé bought her art gear. She noticed something miraculous soon after she'd stated this: Kairi was letting her guard down. She was being nicer to Naminé, greeting her in the morning and after lunch with a friendly hello. Deep down the blond did harbour a small hope that Kairi would eventually invite her to eat lunch with them, but alas, the opportunity never arose. She was just glad at the moment that one of the populars was being nice to her.

"Your pictures are really pretty, Naminé," Kairi complimented one day.

Naminé gulped and offered a strained smile, she reached for her backpack and pulled out a slip of paper. "Thanks… Kairi, I was wondering if y-you'd maybe… like to come to my… m-my birthday party?"

"O-oh…" she said in surprise, taking the slip from Naminé's small hands and examining it.

Just when the little blond thought she was going to get a response, Xion walked up to their table, Selphie Tilmitt and Roxas Evans at her side. She always had someone, like Hayner Cruz or Rikku Charbonnel, to flank her sides. It completed the image of someone to be feared, to be respected. "Well, what do we have here."

"I-I'm going to have a birthday party!" I said excitedly, thrusting her invitations at the other kids. She took her time to hand one to Selphie, Xion and Roxas before making her way around the room, giving one to every kid in her class. They looked at the invitation with varying mixes of confusion. "It's going to be at my house and I'll be renting out carnival rides, there's going to be a small petting zoo, a moon bounce and my jungle gym is always fun to play on. There'll be cakes and fairy floss and-"

"Listen, Naminé…" Xion said, holding the end of her invitation between her pointer and thumb, as if sustained contact with the paper was going to infect her skin, "Here's the thing about parties; they're a reflection of their host, do you understand?"

Naminé, eyes wide, caught Xion's gaze and nodded her head profusely.

"And if the party is hosted by an ugly… boring… talentless person like you, how are we supposed to have any fun?" the black-haired girl grabbed both ends of her invitation and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, started ripping it apart.

Naminé's heart was thumping in her ears as everyone around her started following her lead. From Roxas to Hayner, and finally Kairi, who looked like she was in pain as she shredded Naminé's invitation to pieces, without even the slightest order from Xion. Naminé's eyes burned as tears slowly started to trickle down her cheeks. All around her was the sound of ripping paper, the sound of rejection, repeated again and again and again. This was true pain.

What a shame we all became such fragile, broken things…

The bell rang and everybody went out to recess while Naminé was left to pick up the pieces of her invitations before the teacher came back. Her eyes were blurry with tears as she picked up all that she could, throwing it into the bin while trying to keep her crying in check. Dad always said that crying for sadness was unbecoming of a lady. When she brought her wrist away from her eyes, a boy was standing in front of her.

The first thing that she noticed wasn't that he was black-haired, or had his ears pierced. It wasn't that he was wearing commando boots or a shirt that said 'grunge is dead', neither the fact that he was an outcast or had the most frightening pair of amber eyes she'd ever seen resonated in her mind. No. The first thing she noticed about him, was that he hadn't ripped up her invitation.

"Listen," he said, scratching the back of his head, as if he was nervous. She didn't know, Naminé couldn't tell at the time. "I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, but parties… they aren't really my thing."

He gave her back the invitation, and her eyes travelled from his arm, wearing an array of bracelets, to his shoulder, to his face. She noticed that she didn't even know this boy's name. Nevertheless, she nodded her head. Before he turned away she spit out a thought that blossomed in her mind like a nuclear explosion.

"You have beautiful eyes."

He stopped- apparently shocked by the confession. He didn't answer though, he just turned back around, a flash of curiosity in those enchanting eyes of his, and nodded his head in silent thanks.

"My name's Naminé. What's yours?" she held out her hand.

He shook it, the corner of his lips turning up in a crooked smile. His hands were slender, and longer than her own. She would have swooned if the sound didn't come out as a staggered sigh. "Vanitas."

"Vanitas… Thank you, for not ripping up my invitation."

"Some people need to be high-fived. In the face. With a chair."

She let out a true, happy laugh. And the feeling was like euphoria. It was so rare, it sounded like wind chimes. He wouldn't admit it, but he was stunned by how beautiful it sounded.

"I'm sorry the first time you meet me, I have to be an absolute mess of a person. I just wish… you know?"

"Well," he shrugged, "the world is not a wish-granting factory. But I'm sure you'll get by fine." He started to fiddle with the bracelets on his arm, slipping one off without obstructing any of the others. "Here. You can have this. Happy birthday."

She stared at it questioningly, taking in its features. It was a small hemp bracelet that was black and knotted together with purple, green and white string. There were beads of gold, blue and silver around two beautiful charms; one was a green peace sign, and the other was a hanging, intricately designed leaf. It was the first present she'd ever received from someone that wasn't a family member.

"Thanks," she sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve. She held the bracelet to her chest, keeping it close to her heart.

He winked lazily, "Stay excellent, Naminé."

And then my soul saw you and it kind of went, 'Oh there you are. I've been looking for you.'

& bgm: Very Busy People - The Limousines

Six Years Ago

She was twelve years old, and she was listening to Nirvana and the Limousines as well as learning how to play the guitar. She figured that if no one wanted to have anything to do with her, she'd stop trying to impress people with her appearance. She was ugly after all, and nothing was going to change that. She still stuck to the Prayer Garden, her works getting bigger, more emotional. Her sketchbook became a great place to hide, to express herself the only way she knew how. She wasn't so far into the musical development to start composing her own work, so she practiced by playing Oasis songs and hiding in her headset.

One day, on a whim, she saw a particular video on the internet of some fantastic skateboarding, and so decided that she wanted one as well. It looked like great fun, and she found that anyone doing it looked cool, no matter what they looked like. So after class she researched the closest store and walked in with her pocket money in hand.

Money was never a problem. Her stepfather had never grown out of the habit of trying to buy her love, and she had never tried to stop him. He was also very supportive and kind to her, so she couldn't really fault him, except that he and her mother were never around, developing a really lonely and somewhat eccentric kid.

The shop that she walked into was called Highwind Repair and was also half a garage, half a shop that catered to bikes and scooters. She started to examine the skateboards, not paying attention to any of the weird looks that the other people in the store were giving her. The little blond thought she had made a choice and was about to ask for the price when a gruff looking man walked up to her, cigarette in his mouth, raising one of his hairy eyebrows.

"Hello, darlin'."

She tilted her head at him, her lips curling into a smirk. "Hello."

"You know, I should be saying little girls aren't meant to skateboard."

Naminé's smiled widened, "I suspect that's what they said to Joan Jett when she started guitar."

The old man produced a smoker's cough and held out his hand, "Cid Highwind, young lady."

"Naminé," she replied. "I'm looking for a beginning skateboard."

"I'll go get my nephew. He doesn't work here, but he'll show you what to choose."

Naminé nodded and returned to examining all the board work. They were all creative and very beautiful, she wouldn't be able to choose which one to ride. Cid had been gone for five minutes before he appeared, holding the arm of a fairly reluctant young boy.

"Uncle Cid, I don't wanna talk to her."

"She may want to skateboard, but she's a bloody lady, young man, and I expect you to treat her like one."

"But-"

"I'm not askin' you ta marry her, just help her choose a board."

Naminé turned around and widened her eyes as they landed on Roxas Evans. She tilted her head to the side before making a motioning gesture with her neck, beckoning Roxas closer.

"These are all really pretty," she admitted, trying to start the conversation.

Roxas narrowed his eyes, "It's not the design that-"

The blond turned her entire body to him and crossed her arms over her chest, "I'll give you twenty dollars if you don't lie to me about which ones ride the best."

He blinked, his body language straightening itself up. He scratched the back of his neck nervously, "Listen, I might not talk to you at school…"

She shook her head, a 'seriously? what the fuck' smile melting into her features, "I'm not asking for your spleen Roxas. I'm just asking you what kind of board rides the best. I'm asking you to forget your hatred towards me for five minutes, and rewarding you for not letting petty social standing get in the way of telling me the truth."

He stared at her in shock before shaking his head, "I was saying I'm not going to lie to you. I don't want your money."

"Really?" she put her hand on her hip. "It's an easy twenty. Or do you want more than that?"

He shook his head more rigorously this time, sighing. "Alright, first, tell me how tall you are."

They ended up speaking about twenty minutes about the board and all of her preferences about wheels, bearings, trucks and grip tape before Naminé finally settled on her perfect dimensions. She picked a pretty black, white and pink design of the brand Element that Roxas took off a rack for her.

"Aren't you even going to look at the price?"

She flipped the board and her eyes flickered to the sticker for little more than two seconds. "Oh, okay."

"'Okay'?" he repeated.

She stared at him and nodded her head, "Okay."

"Are you serious? That's a bloody expensive board."

"You said it's a good board, so I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and trusting you." He blinked at her and shrugged. He just couldn't understand her.

"Alright. If you say so."

Curious about how she was going to do, Roxas followed her to the nearest skate park, which happened to be only a few streets away. It was sunset and Roxas' older friends would be there. Just as he suspected, Axel Prezette, Zexion Corazza, Demyx Hansen and Larxene Moreno were waiting for him under the overpass, sharing a packet of cigarettes. She was kind of intimidated by these high school seniors. They looked so cool, with their weird hairstyles. Was it mandatory to go insane as a teenager?

"Hey buddy!" Axel said excitedly, rushing over to them. "Who's this guy?"

"I'm a girl," Naminé corrected him. "And I'm Naminé. Rookie skater."

"Ew. I hate rookies," Axel admitted, patting Roxas on the back and grabbing Naminé's hand, hurrying them under the overpass. "So, what are you good for Nami?"

She raised her eyebrow. A nickname, already? He certainly was friendly.

"To step on."

"Right to the point. I like you," he grinned, completely contradicting himself. She looked around the group, trying to discern their ages. They looked about five years older than both her and Roxas, so they'd be about seventeen years old.

"You don't look like a girl," Larxene said.

"Neither do you," she replied instantly.

"Why you little-!" she growled, trying to get up, but Demyx stopped her with his hand, while trying not to laugh.

Axel laughed, a loud raucous laugh that echoed under the overpass. "Ladies, ladies, there's enough of me to go around." Amazingly enough, both female blonds rolled their eyes at him.

"I'm Demyx," the mohawked blond introduced himself cheerily, "and this is Zexion, but he doesn't talk much."

"More like, at all," Roxas said, smiling at Naminé as if they shared a bond already. "In the time I've known him, he's only said, six words, and all of them have been to correct Demyx's pronunciation."

"My English is not that bad!"

"It's bad enough for Zexion to summon up the precious energy to speak."

"The bitch is Larxene," Axel explained.

"Come and call me a bitch again, fire crotch, I will snap your little winkie off."

"How dare you call it little!"

Naminé joined in their laughter, loving what it was felt like to feel like she belonged, even for a little while.

"Is that a new board?" Demyx asked her.

"Yeah, fresh from the store," she shrugged. "I need a teacher."

"Good luck getting one, Blue eyes," Axel said, lighting up another cigarette and putting it in his mouth.

"I'll pay fifty bucks a lesson."

Axel choked on his cigarette before throwing it away and rushing over to Naminé, picking her up and swinging her around like a doll, "You have found your man, Naminé!" He twirled her around again before putting her down.

She shrugged in Roxas' direction and said, "It might be manipulative, but money works in most situations."

"Roxas- teach me how to teach skateboarding!"

& bgm: With a Little Help from my Friends - The Beatles

Four Years Ago

By this time, Naminé had developed a little friend group to talk to at lunch times. She didn't have the Prayer Garden to go to anymore, since she now attended Rising Falls Academy, in her eighth year of schooling, she was now fourteen. Sure, there was an equivalent, here at her high school. The school as built around a cute little pond. But she didn't rely on it anymore. There weren't any places to hide by that pond.

Hollow Bastion Academy was a great school created from strange purple sandstone, in the wacky design of Radiant Garden's own Castle. To sum everything up, it was like a colourful version of Hogwarts. There were classrooms in twisting towers. There were sprockets and hinges still sticking out of the school walls, and there were more classrooms attached to the school only by thin connecting bridges that stuck out from the bulk of the castle itself. There were parts of the school that weren't quite ready to be accessed yet as well as different spires and halls that were ornamentally decorated with paintings and carvings so beautiful and ancient the school could be compared to none other.

Naminé's friend group consisted of –get this- Roxas. After she'd made the deal with Axel, she saw him all the time, and the two of them had become unlikely friends. Sure, he spent about one day a week with the other populars, but she spent the rest of the time with their small little clique. Roxas was a lot more kind and awkward than she first assumed. And he apologised for ripping up her invitation, which was definitely a plus.

The next person to join their little group was Olette DiCicco. She was a brainy girl from Twilight Town whose favourite subject was World History. She'd been invited to Xion's group once or twice, but rejected them because after the first week it was apparent that she was trying to copy Olette's answers in math class. Naminé had a Modern History assignment with the brunet and afterwards they'd come out of it friends.

Pence Lockhart was the weird guy in Naminé's art class that was into cool nerdy stuff, like Star Trek and Doctor Who. It was little wonder that they became such friends after Naminé drew a picture of the Tardis for their creative drawing exercise. Apparently Roxas' older half-brother, Cloud, was friends with Pence's older sister, Tifa.

The last member of their little clique was Hayner Cruz, who was a boy that had bullied Naminé when he was little, but now stood to defend her. Roxas and Hayner were both on the soccer team and unbeknownst to Olette, Hayner had a huge crush on her, which happened to be the reason he'd started hanging out with them. Overtime, even when it became apparent that Olette wasn't interested, he still came by because their bonds were just too strong now, and he loved begging them to come to their soccer games.

Naminé couldn't really believe she had friends now. It was kind of amazing. But just when things were going so well, she was starting to realise things about herself that would rock the delicate balance of her sweet little world. She was coming to a realisation she wasn't sure she was ready to admit.

She'd always been friendly with Kairi, she was her next door neighbour after all, despite the fact that she was one of Xion's dreaded followers. At first she was blaming these feelings on being an artist, and understanding the parts of the female body as well as the males, but it was hard to deny the emotions that almost overpowered her when she came across a particularly attractive female.

Over time it was becoming harder to see Kairi as a friend. She was just that gorgeous, and thinking about her girl parts was becoming a bad habit. It wasn't just Kairi either. She was exploring sections of Tumblr that were designed for the particularly curious female. She was trying to understand a part of her that she might have been denying for a long time.

"Guys, I have something to tell you."

Hayner, ever the joker moaned and said, "Yep! She's a guy. Pay up Roxas, you owe me twenty bucks."

"What the hell- Hayner, I did not. Nam, he's lying."

Naminé giggled a little, glad that he was trying to distil some of the tense atmosphere. Olette glared and hit him across the head, "Shh! Naminé's trying to say something."

"Is it something bad?" Roxas, the considerate one, asked. "You're not in trouble are you?"

"You know I don't think shagging a teacher is legal in the state of Radiant Garden."

Pence growled, "Hayner…"

"I'm just saying!"

"Please be quiet." Pence murmured.

"Oh, Nam, darling." Hayner said, taking Naminé's hands and putting them to his chest. "You know we're going to support you no matter what, right?"

"Okay, thanks."

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

Olette grabbed one of her pens and stabbed Hayner in the ribs with it, causing him to lose balance and fall of the table making unintelligible sounds. Roxas, Naminé and Pence stared at her with shock. "What? He was being annoying." Let it never be said that Olette wasn't a dangerous human being.

"So you're not pregnant?" Pence asked her.

"Not exactly," she shrugged. Not at all really. She just decided to say it. Rip it off. Like a band aid. "I'm bi."

They were all silent for a long time. Pence broke the silence by clapping, and soon enough her other friends were doing the same thing. She didn't know whether to be annoyed or grateful, so she started to laugh nervously. "What the fuck are you guys doing?"

"That took courage!" Pence said, "So we're congratulating you."

"Yeah," Roxas grinned.

"Now, fifty percent more people have the chance to be with a wonderful person," Olette declared, coming around the table to hug me.

"Fuck, that's hot," Hayner smirked, having recovered from his stab wound. Naminé rolled her eyes and joined her friends in their laughter. It was nice to feel truly accepted. She honestly thought that at least one of them would reply negatively to her confession, but they were all supporting her, and that was awesome.

"I wouldn't say fifty percent more. I can't imagine anyone that'd wanna date this face."

"Don't be so down, Naminé. You're a catch."

"Stop bullshitting me guys."

& bgm: shuffle playlist.

Unfortunately, her friends weren't the only ones informed of this news. Someone overheard, and it spread. All of the girls started to avoid Naminé like the plague, and even Kairi wouldn't reply to her greetings in the morning. The blond thought she had prepared for this, but she hadn't. Xion was always going to be queen bee, and whatever she wanted, she was going to get. And now she wanted Naminé to go insane by alienation.

The bullying, which had declined since Hayner joined her little group, went up by two-hundred percent, and Naminé found herself getting chased, beat up and mocked every day because she was ugly, because she was rich, and now, she was being hunted down because Xion saw her as a potential lesbian- which apparently frightened the fuck out of her.

One day Naminé was cornered in the bathroom, just a frightened fourteen-year-old trying to wash her hands when Xion's little group filed in and sealed her in the back. She pressed herself against the cold tiles, wondering how she was going to get out of this mess. Luck, as usual, was against her.

"Xion, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You know very well, you filthy lesbian," she answered. Now Naminé knew what witches felt like in the Middle Ages. And we all know how those ended. God, she wished Olette was there. "We can't have you targeting innocent people, like Kairi. Like me."

"I'm bi, you homophobic twat. And you don't have to worry, because I wouldn't be interested in you if we were the last two people alive." She knew that provoking Xion right now was possibly the worst idea in the history of ideas, but she just couldn't help herself. Naminé's word vomit just happened to be snarky and bitchy.

Xion's eyes widened and she snarled out something guttural to the girls following her. Before she could understand what was happening, her head was shoved into the toilet, and because she couldn't hear the scissors Xion was taking out of her purse over the water and splashing, she had absolutely no idea what was happening because two girls were holding her down and she was trying to swerve her head to breath, like she was swimming instead of dunking her head in the fucking urinal. She didn't realise her hair was missing until there was nothing for Xion to hold her head down with.

Naminé had to do the walk of shame from the bathroom to the principal's office, so possibly twenty-five percent of her grade saw how she now harboured the haircut (get this) that would often be associated with a lesbian. She griped at her head and yanked at a section of hair. It looked like she'd gotten her head stuck in the bloody wood chipper. She felt like crying, but she knew she couldn't give Xion her tears.

After I came back looking like Anne Hathaway in Les Mis her father decided to send her to a different school in Dark City. She couldn't believe it.

Xion had won.

& bgm: Write You Off - Dead Cool Dropouts

Two Years Ago

There was a miraculous moment while she was finishing a painting one day when she realised that the best way to get back at Xion for all the mean things that she did to her, would be to become pretty and happy.

Because of this thought, Naminé rushed over to her mirror and started to inspect herself. Over the years, nature had forgiven her for whatever torrential misgivings she'd committed as a child and fixed up sections of her face. Now her nose was ski-slope shaped, her lips were bow shaped, her cheeks were still red sometimes, but only when she was embarrassed or angry, and her ears were a normal sized. Her blond hair was becoming another good facet as if fell down in gentle waves.

She couldn't really explain it, but puberty had actually been pretty nice to her, if you forgave the severe acne (Lolcano. Ha ha. Get it? Because her face is a joke) and a monthly reminder that her uterus was shedding excess skin because she couldn't find a suitable cock to consummate with. She looked halfway decent, but she was still a skinny little bitch and she needed to get rid of the acne to see what was underneath all of the anti-men repellent that was her face.

So she hired a personal trainer, and started going to gym. Every time she thought 'God, this is so hard' and 'Why don't I just give up now?' she thought about the expression on Xion's face if she ever saw Naminé again. It would be priceless, monumental, entirely satisfactory. And that's what spurred her on for the next few years, an incredible determination to see Xion cry like she had cried. She would grab Xion's leg and haul her off her high horse. Xion would fall in the metaphorical horse shit. It was such a fulfilling day dream.

"Dad?"

"Yes, honey?" he asked, and Naminé could tell he was at some kind of busy intersection because of all the noise in the background.

"I want to go back to Rising Falls Academy for senior year."

"Oh dear, are you sure sweetheart? What if you come back nearly bald again?"

She shrugged, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "I think I rocked the stereotypical lesbian cut. But either way, my hair's grown out now. I think I might want to brave those lunatics and their scissors."

"Are you sure you want this?"

"I'm absolutely sure."

Naminé wondered about her life in Dark City. She hadn't made any friends, because her life had been consumed with thoughts about going back and getting her revenge. Even though guys were starting to ask her out now (a strange scientific phenomenon still in the midst of research), there were forces begging her to come back to Hollow Bastion. She knew she wouldn't be able to live a satisfactory life if she didn't come back, bullying and all.

So she armed herself.

First and foremost, she took karate, so she would never be overpowered by other girls again.

And then the hard bit came; she created a will of steel that would drag her to the gym every day, she toned herself, she learnt how to apply makeup, she looked all over the internet for new clothes, and she started to read those corny 'change your attitude' books under her sheets with a flashlight late at night. Her mother noticed it first; "Naminé, dear? You look a little different. Come here. Oh my, you look like a younger version of me. It was about time those stupid genes of yours started to kick in." "Thanks for clarifying that I was an ugly child, even in your eyes." Followed by her father; "Naminé, I will slice through the spleens of a thousand men to keep you safe." "Geez Dad, you couldn't say that when I wasn't pretty?" "Don't be ridiculous, of course not."

She never gave into the temptation to update her Facebook profile picture, or buy pretty clothes until the end of the transformation from fugly to goddess.

She worked on her art and her music, between stalking Xion's profile and trying to figure out what Vanitas was doing through all of his friend's posts. She couldn't believe he didn't have Facebook. It made stalking him so much harder.

Gradually, fractions, moments at a time, her skin cleared until it was as white as snow. Hair detangled and gained a natural shine. Baby fat disappeared and left behind a pretty heart-shaped face. Her body became toned and curvy all at once. Her transformation was almost complete.

Naminé became utterly obsessed with the idea of revenge. Her beauty was a weapon, and she would wreak mass destruction upon Rising Falls Academy.

She just didn't know it yet.

tbc.

So yeah, this is my better version for you guys to enjoy. I'm happy with this. I will not delete it. Please leave a comment before you favourite/follow, it would really make my day. & remember, you can always look for pictures from the story in my blog.

kacey.

last revision: 12th July, 2013