“Besides Kairi and Riku, there was one other girl I was friends with. The four of us used to play together all the time.”

That was a false memory I made for Sora. I imagine its scenery.

Waves hitting and drawing back from the white, sandy beach. The boys are fighting with wooden swords in the background.

I stand up and walk alone to the pier. Then, I proceed to the end of the pier and, this time, I sit.

Then I look toward the horizon and I close my eyes. I hear the sound of the waves.

“What are you doing, Naminé?”

I turn back toward the voice that called from behind me. Sora was standing there.

“The wind sure feels nice,” I respond, looking back at Sora.

“If only the wind could carry me far, far away…”

“That again?” I chuckle.

Sora and his friends were building a raft right now - a raft to allow them to leave this world.

“You ever want to go back?” Sora asked as he sat next to me.

Go back? To where? Where do I want to go home to? It was always this beach of white sands - this shore where I can always hear the sound of waves.

But really - the real me - no, maybe I did want to return home to this beach, too.

“If there are any other worlds out there…I wanna see ‘em all!” Sora continues.

Ah, that’s right. By now, Sora’s seen all kinds of worlds, met all kinds of people, and gained all sorts of connections and memories. I know just a little bit about those fragments of his memories.

“Aren’t you guys forgetting about me?”

I turn toward the voice and find Riku standing there. Behind him is Kairi. This is a fake memory where all four of us played together.

“So, I guess we’re the only ones working on the raft.”

Riku looks back at her, and she laughs with that face of hers that looks a little like mine.

This is a special world. A world where somebody set off on a journey a very long time ago. It’s a very important place within my memories.

It would be great if everybody could really return here. But why did it turn out that we can’t anymore?

Is what I’m seeing an illusion, or a dream?

Perhaps this is the world I wanted. Or maybe it is the world somebody else wanted. I don’t know.

I lost track of that sketchbook I drew in at some point. I wonder where it is.

I can hear the sound of waves. The sound of waves sinks in within my memories - the only sound I can hear whenever I want, forever.