Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter Text
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, bathing the room in a warm glow that danced over the vacant chairs assembled around a gold table, bare except for a thin layer of dust. A desk sat at the edge of the room, an open book lay sprawled across its surface, its pages crisp and untouched. Beside the desk, a chalkboard loomed tall, its surface wiped clean and devoid of any remnants of past lessons. At the opposite end stood a bookshelf easily twice the size, spanning across the entire wall. Like everything else, the dust settled thickly on the wooden shelves, shrouding the books in a layer of neglect.
Xehanort couldn’t help but glance over now and then; the classroom was tainted with old memories, joyful ones had become distorted, twisted by time and heartache. Each familiar face that flashed in his mind now felt like a ghost. With every recollection, he felt a weight settle heavily on his chest; the once-happy moments of his past had transformed into a burden he could not shake off, a neglected room once occupied by them daily that was filled with laughter and questions, now replaced by a crushing silence. Chess felt so empty without them— Bragi criticizing Eraqus's every move, Hermod quietly observing Xehanort, Urd and Bladr pretending to study, instead watching from the corner of their eye, and Vor jumping up and down as she cheered for the winner. Most of the time, it was Xehanort, to Eraqus’ dismay. Now, all that was left of them was blocks of stone in the ground, their names engraved for the world to see, covered with trinkets and flowers that Xehanort had made sure to replace.
Why were people appreciated the most when they were dead?
What should’ve been a legacy of mighty Keyblade Masters was instead tombstones mourned over, a reminder of the tragedy that shook Scala Ad Caelum to the core. It‘s been two years since the incident when those bright minds were snuffed out by darkness.
It started when the upperclassmen traveled to different worlds to prepare for their Mark of Mastery, and Baldr, one of the lower, followed his older sister, anxious for her safety. The darkness, grown from his doubts, escaped his heart to murder Hoder in front of her brother. Grief-stricken, he had surrendered to his sorrow and rage and killed three other students who rushed to the scene as the darkness took control. Another upperclassman, Vidar, sensed the presence in Baldr and turned to the only solution, Kingdom Hearts, as he refused to take his life, just as the darkness planned. However, Vidar realized the consequences of doing so and stopped.
After some time in isolation where the darkness grew, Baldr appeared to Xehanort— who had grown suspicious of him— and the other lower-class students who had been stopped in their search for the upperclassmen by their Master. Baiting them with answers, he led them to the Underworld. After the group was isolated in a Dark Corridor, Baldr killed Urd and Hermod weakened by the overwhelming darkness, and attempted to finish the job with Eraqus and Xehanort before they were saved by their Master. The darkness controlling Baldr went on a rampage, killing the rest of the upperclassmen in Scala and another lower, Vor, in his quest to snuff out thirteen lights. Xehanort was forced to eliminate him before he and Eraqus could become the last two.
No, not him, it. It wasn't Baldr, it was the darkness controlling him.
He and Eraqus were the only former students left; it had been weeks since the last time Xehanort had seen him, the two off exploring other worlds in preparation for the Mark of Mastery exam.
And although he refused to openly admit it, he missed his best friend— I know, it’s sappy— even though he's an entirely new person. He remembered when he couldn’t go a minute without cracking a joke, and Xehanort just couldn't help but smile at his goofiness. That Eraqus seemed to have died alongside their friends. Now, it was replaced by steeled determination, a desire to purge all darkness, even stronger than before the incident.
Xehanort didn't share his ambition.
Not when it could be controlled. Why fear something that can be utilized? If light could be used for wrong, then why can’t darkness be used for good? If his heart was strong enough.
But he knew better than to share his thoughts with Eraqus. The last time he tried, it ended with his friend storming off with Bragi. It didn’t help that these beliefs about darkness contradicted Master Odin’s teachings. But what if they were blinded by false light?
As soon as the final question emerged, he was yet again reminded of his conversation with that weird cloaked guy. That black robe in question, which the man gave him, was stuffed in his drawer, buried beneath folded pairs of pants.
So you’re believing some random guy you met in a dust-ball world over your best friend and Master? A snide voice critiqued.
Shut it.
Their conversation was the only sound in the nostalgic room, shifting from greetings to their exploration, in which Xehanort skipped over his encounter with the black-coat man. Though he did mention his plans for the future.
Thirteen lifetimes.
One more to explore the new world.
He pointedly left out his growing interest in Kingdom Hearts. Eraqus would be far from pleased.
“Fourteen!?”
Said teen exclaimed, his fingers pausing over his bishop. His eyes were wide, mouth comically hanging open.
Xehanort couldn't suppress the twitch at the corner of his lips. Smirking, he replied, “We all have our dreams.”
“Dreams, huh?”
Eraqus’ brows furrowed, a rare moment of deep contemplation overtaking him.
“Yeah. What's yours? To become a Keyblade Master?” Eraqus returned to his senses at his friend's inquiry, moving his piece a few paces diagonally to the right. Pausing on a white square, he leaned back as his gaze rose to the ceiling. “I want….”
Xehanort briefly followed his stare to the sunbeams streaming through the tall windows before returning to his friend.
“… To stay true to the light.”
Big shocker.
Xehanort's black pawn moved up a square, closing in on his opponent’s rook. “Hm? What brought that up?”
“In case anyone finds themselves lost in the darkness,” Eraqus picked up a white piece, “I want to be a beacon that guides them back.”
Of course.
That was such an Eraqus thing to say.
Xehanort's lips curved into a smirk. “I see.”
Eraqus paused mid-move, catching the other’s simpering smile. “Hey! Are you laughing at me?”
Once again, his body betrayed him, and he couldn't restrain the chuckle that escaped from him. “No, it's the perfect dream for you.”
“I mean, think about it. Knowing you, if you wound up wandering into the darkness, you'd try to escape on your own and just end up heading deeper in. But not if I were around to rescue you.” His teasing grin reappeared, replacing the earlier seriousness. Xehanort just realized how much he missed it. “You're welcome, buddy.”
He returned the smile. “It's true that running away isn't my forte, unlike someone I know.” He stared pointedly at the teen in front of him. Eraqus rolled his eyes before taking out his knight, moving it to the side, and replacing Xehanort’s piece with his own.
His expression softened as he continued. “Thanks for always being there.”
The black-haired boy glanced up at him, grey eyes blown back at the unexpected gratitude. Composing himself, Eraqus replied cheekily. “I'm the best, right?” Yet his face fell as his queen was defeated.
There was a comfortable silence between them, the only sound being the occasional hum or rustle as they shifted in their seats.
Each thought was a page in his mind, and he closed the book. There was another time to think about the future, not when he was with Eraqus. He shifted his focus to the black and white squares, the chess pieces squashing any thought about Kingdom Hearts and the black-robed man.
Who knew how many opportunities he had left of this? Or perhaps, even this could be their final day together in this classroom…
Xehanort’s heart sank at the thought, glancing up to see his friend (Not for the last time, he told himself). He drank in the intensity in Eraqus' eyes as he analyzed the chessboard, the expression of playful disappointment as he checkmated.
He stared through the window as Eraqus reset his pieces, analyzing the masses of structures of Scala Ad Caelum. Xehanort felt comforted by the familiar sight of the city's buildings outside the window. He knew the layout like the back of his hand, having roamed the city countless times alongside Eraqus.
Xehanort knew he should tell him about his plan, but he saved it for another moment. He just wanted to be with him before everything came crashing down.
Just a little more time.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
“Master, we have found what you requested.”
“Him?”
“Ansem and I spotted him in Twilight Town, accompanied by his duck and dog.”
“Excellent, then you are relieved of duty. You can return to your assigned missions.”
“I shall do so immediately… but may I inquire on why you need the boy’s location? Are you attempting to convert him into your vessel again?”
“Not quite, but you will know in due time. You are dismissed.”
Chapter 2: Dawn
Chapter Text
The alarm shattered the silence, releasing its shrill, repetitive shriek. 7 AM blinked in red flashing letters, illuminating the room in a crimson glow.
He peeled his eyelids open at the metal rooster’s call— the urge to chuck it across the room was overwhelming. A floppy hand felt for the sleek, white button, hitting the mechanism in retaliation when his fingers found the smooth bump.
The room returned to its former hush, other than the sound of the man groggily wrestling with the sheets. Winning the match, he kicked off the comforter, which in cold revenge, tripped him as he stumbled to the window.
Moonlight flooded the room as he threw open the grey curtains. The vast cityscape sprawled ahead, towering skyscrapers reaching for the yellow moon that constantly shone above them. They looked rather puny from a distance.
At least he got a city view and not the wasteland behind the castle (Sorry, Demyx).
Fumbling for the light switch, he winced as the fluorescent lights kicked on and lit up the small bathroom. Gold eyes groggily returned his stare from the mirror.
Young Xehanort twisted the knob, his hands reaching under the faucet to cup the cold water. His brain kicked into gear as it registered the icy liquid splashed on his face.
Another day of surviving working in the Organization.
The chrononaut ran a hand through his bed head, which was the equivalent of a bird nest. Attacking the silver strands with a comb, he winced at every tug on a practically stubborn tangle. He could understand why his older self shaved it off. Young Xehanort set the comb down in defeat and committed the walk of shame— pulling out the gel. Grabbing almost all of his bangs, except for the two long strands he left alone, and some of the persistent short locks, he slicked it back.
Good enough.
Even though it was painful, ripping out his hair was pathetically the most exciting part of his morning routine. Everything else was the same monotonous pattern.
Same clothes.
Same annoying faces at work.
It's been almost two weeks of this. Days of doing whatever mission was assigned to him.
The most interesting day so far was inferring those boys’ Mark of Mastery exam. Though the lecture given to him afterward for ‘failing’ was less enjoyable.
Young Xehanort shoved his boot on rather aggressively as the memory resurged.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
“The task was simple: corrupt him.”
His master’s voice was cold, burrowing into his ears like knives.
“It was simple, but the circumstances were unforeseen-” The chrononaut fell silent as the elder raised his hand, left to fume in tense silence.
“The ‘circumstances’ being the boy you failed to handle.”
Young Xehanort bit back his comment about the master being the one controlling him during that battle. Even then, Riku had been a lot stronger than they both expected. “But what about Axel— Lea— whatever his name was—What could I-!”
“There’s no excuse to pardon your transgressions,” Matching gold eyes bore into him, “Do not disappoint me again.”
Curling, bowing, apologizing as Master Xehanort departed, he wanted to smash the ticking of the clock that seemed to laugh at him into pieces.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
Young Xehanort winced at the door’s low creak as he slowly pulled it closed. In the desolate hallway, it was the equivalent of a gunshot.
Just like his room, the hallways were the same shades of white and grey.
Would it kill for a pop of color?
It hurt his eyes when he first came to this place, but he eventually got used to the dull shades. He even made a game of it—count how many shapes he could make from the drab designs.
His high score was 139.
Sometimes it was easy— a square, a rectangle, a trapezoid. Other times, it required a bit more imagination and a skewed perspective.
The chrononaut climbed the steps, eyes concentrating on the walls. He could hear the racket from the Grey Area despite being a good distance away. They were stationed in the World that Never Was because one, they had no other bases, and two, it only had one entrance. Yes, there were Corridors of Darkness, but chances of the Guardians of Light using them were low, and even then, they would be notified immediately.
There was no reason for the lights to even infiltrate their castle anyway.
But the Organization meetings were still hosted at the Keyblade Graveyard, which sucks because he has to stand for half an hour in the stifling heat (Only made worse by those stupid leather coats).
Young Xehanort got to 94 before he arrived in the lounge. It was already packed, with members either in small groups or isolated. He didn't judge, he kept to himself too. He didn't have the energy or the desire to engage in the incessant talk that filled the space.
The most prominent ones were a few of the former members. Luxord and Xigbar were playing some card game— Xigbar better be ready to lose then— while Larxene and Marluxia watched, idly chatting.
About what? He didn’t care; the last thing he wanted was for Larxene to pounce on him. The others were smart enough to know about the social minefield, as duos and solos were fairly spaced out on the grey couches.
Saïx was moping in his usual corner, shuffling through papers. However, his eyes landed on Young Xehanort, and he bounded towards him in quick strides.
Uh oh. Trouble’s spelled all over this.
Chuckles erupted from the members as they watched the scene, even a couple of childish “Someone’s in trouble.”
If he were as immature as some of them, he would throttle them afterward.
“Number XII,” Saïx greeted. “Your daily mission has been postponed. Master Xehanort has requested your presence.”
His stomach sank as the room instantly went silent. Gold eyes locked onto him like he was under a spotlight.
Young Xehanort wanted to curl up in a hole and die.
“Where?” He held his chin high, refusing to give any sign of being intimated by his nosy audience.
“The Graveyard,” The blue-haired man returned to his papers, “I suggest you hurry.” The chrononaut gave a small nod, turning on his heels to exit.
Like time had resumed, the chatter instantly started up.
At least he could continue his game.
Demyx was drumming away on his sitar, so thank Kingdom Hearts Saïx shooed him away so his ears wouldn’t bleed. The farther he walked down the hall, the softer the voices became until only his footfalls were heard.
Why did Master Xehanort request a meeting?
What had he done wrong now? Or did he have something else up his sleeve? It was rare to be summoned by his older self, and through his two weeks serving the Organization, he’s been called in twice. One of them was his first unique task to sabotage an exam and find a vessel, the second being his talking-to.
Wait, no, three. When Master Xehanort was revived, he had to have everything explained to him. It was quite an extraordinary web of events that took place in the span of decades.
He reached 127. That was close enough to his high score.
Young Xehanort pulled up his hood and waved his hand, concentrating, and in his triumph, a Dark Corridor instantly appeared. It had been difficult at first, but it got much easier with practice. Practice being Ansem letting out a tsk every five seconds and saying something along the lines of “How come I have to babysit?”
After a few moments, a thick cloud of dust stung his eyes as well as the searing light. Along with it came something somehow more horrible. Heat. Disgusting, dry, oppressive heat settled around him like a blanket. Humidity he was used to, but not this.
How in Kingdom Hearts is he supposed to fight the Guardians of Light here if he kept getting swarmed by dust?
Already, his older self was there, standing on his pillar which towered over his, as Young Xehanort’s was the second shortest. Sucks being ranked XII.
“You wanted to see me?” The chrononaut‘s voice was even, his expression blank.
“Yes, I have another task for you.”
Finally, something interesting… and hopefully it would include that boy. Sora was rather fascinating to watch. Despite his Keyblade being a hand-me-down and wielding no remarkable powers, he still pushed through with impressive strength of heart. Because ‘his friends were his power’.
“One I'm sure you’ll be able to complete.”
Young Xehanort didn’t miss the edge in his voice, knowing the words were no compliment. Looks like someone is still salty. “Of course.”
“As you know, we need the seven Guardians of Light to clash with us to create the χ-blade. However, if they fail to do so, I prepared a backup.” The elder clasped his hands behind his back.
The younger nodded and finished for him: “The Seven Princesses of Heart.”
“Yes, but unfortunately, they had passed on their light, except for the girl Kairi. A couple of members have found possible candidates, however, we are still short. I’m sure the Lights have this information, though I doubt they would share it.”
Master Xehanort stepped forward and stopped at the edge, leaning over the ledge to look at him.
“What are you suggesting we do?” Young Xehanort asked.
The elder’s lip twitched, threatening to morph into a smirk. “We take action. What do they fear?”
Brows furrowed, the chrononaut brainstormed a response. Other than the obvious, darkness, what else? Oh, wait, it’s simple. “Losing one another?”
“Yes,” The Keyblade Master gave a firm nod, “We use their fear against them. I’ve been informed of a few of the Light’s locations. Riku and that rat king are in the Realm of Darkness, presumably searching for Aqua. Kairi and the traitor are training, but unfortunately, they’ve been hidden well enough that none of my seekers could locate them. Lastly, Sora and his two companions are traversing the worlds. The latter is the most vulnerable out of our choices.”
“Vulnerable? Vulnerable for what?” Young Xehanort questioned, not quite following. Is he supposed to break the Lights by killing the kid? That would be rather… unfortunate.
Looks like Baldr won’t be the last child I’ll put an end to.
“For you to bring him here, of course.” The younger’s eyes rounded, physically portraying the most emotion he’s felt throughout the entire conference.
“… When?”
Master Xehanort seemed pleased at his immediate compliance. “As soon as I dismiss you. You must strike when he’s alone; we don't want another rescue.”
“Yes… But would this not cause complications for the plan, Master?” They can't exactly fight seven Lights— if they even get enough people— if one of them is rotting away in a cell.
“His stay wouldn't be permanent; Once he no longer serves his purpose, he would be returned. In working condition. There’s no point in keeping the boy.” The elder replied.
Something strange weighed down his darkness-infested heart. These tactics were a change from the norm, brutal even. Any other Organization member would jump for joy at the idea of torturing their worst enemy. So why did it leave a bad taste in his mouth? He must be tired if he’s having these delusions.
Master Xehanort noticed his lack of eagerness. “I expected at least a sliver of enthusiasm,” he noted dryly.
“I’m just… surprised at the sudden change of plans.” Eraqus used to scold him for half-truths, saying, “Half of it is still a lie.”
“… I see.”
The atmosphere between the two was somehow more stifling than the dust.
“You succeeded in abducting him before, so you should be able to do so again.” Master Xehanort’s gaze felt like an X-ray, piercing through his younger self with unrelenting intensity. “Do not fail me.”
Young Xehanort erased any lingering doubt, schooling his face to be apathetic. He unflinchingly met the other’s gaze.
How could eyes that belong to you somehow be ten times colder on another face?
“I won’t disappoint you.” The chrononaut shattered the oppressive silence.
“Go,” Master Xehanort’s eyes left him, instead landing on the wasteland ahead. “He’s in Twilight Town.”
Drawing his hood, he was once again swallowed by the darkness.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
Master Xehanort strolled away from the ledge after watching his younger self depart in a Dark Corridor. Jagged rocks jutted sharply from the barren ground, and dust swirled in small maelstroms, caught in the occasional gust of wind. This world would’ve been rather insignificant if it weren't for the thousands of Keyblades embedded in the stone.
The Keyblade War.
Masses of children gathered to clash for light. Even hundreds of years later, the slaughter that took place was still prominent.
And he was recreating it with his own pieces. The elder wasn't doing this for power, no, that was just a bonus. He was curing the corrupt worlds. Wiping all darkness and light until it was pure and blank. A few deaths— he doubted every Light or his Seekers would survive the battle— are a small price to pay. This was his destiny, his purpose.
And he was so close after bidding his time for decades— for this moment.
But good things come to those who wait.
Patience was a requirement, or it would crumble around him. Just like it did for Ansem and Xemnas, who were far too hasty.
He will not be rash.
Though his younger self could throw a wrench in his plans. The hesitation in his heart didn’t go unnoticed, the flash of anger at the vague mention of his former mission. If XII exhibited resistance, he would be dealt with accordingly— even if it meant getting rid of him entirely.
Master Xehanort wouldn't allow him to hinder the plan that took years to unfold.
Victory was just below the horizon; he’d be the one to checkmate. Just as he had done with Eraqus, a far more formidable opponent. That pathetic excuse of a Keyblade Wielder and his crew of misfits and renegades should pose no challenge.
Kingdom Hearts will be his.
Chapter 3: Twilight and Dusk
Notes:
I’M SO SORRY!!
I had tons of final exams coming up and also had to celebrate my birthday (yay!), so I apologize for the late chapter
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The warm glow of the sunset bounced off the metal surfaces of the twin bells. Stationed on the famous train station clock tower, they rang together in harmony.
The place where Sora had awoken from his long sleep, and Roxas began his own.
Where a trio duo ate ice cream together on the clock tower.
His thoughts lingered on a particular member as he strolled down the sunlit streets. Sora could faintly hear the tantrum stewing behind him from Donald (and Goofy attempting to calm him).
For the one telling him “This boat runs on happy faces”, the mage was surely ignoring his own advice.
Sora snorted, placing his hands behind his head. His smile faded just as quickly as it came as he thought of the recent events. Ever since encountering Xemnas and Ansem at the old creepy mansion in the woods, it’s all he has been thinking about.
They were lying— there had to be another way. They were trying to trick him into falling into darkness and use him for some nefarious purpose.
Not that he was a stranger to darkness.
That form. The amount of anger he felt slithering into his heart, constricting like a snake.
Anger at Riku and his possessor for antagonizing him.
Anger at Donald and Goofy abandoning him.
Anger at the Organization for kidnapping him and Kairi.
Anger at himself for being so weak.
He even felt anger that didn't belong to him, influenced by the heart inside of his.
Utilizing the darkness to release it was terrifying. Exhilarating. Though guilt swiftly stomped it out at the looks on Donald's and Goofy’s faces. The shock, but most of all— the terror. Because he became a monster.
No, he needed to stop. Thinking like that was only letting Xemnas and Ansem win. They wanted him to doubt himself.
But there was something else bothering him. How did the Organization keep finding him? Are they tracking him? Sora glanced down at his shirt, expecting to see an X printed on the fabric.
I
'm going crazy…
What’s even the point of stalking him in the first place? To antagonize him? Or worse…?
He was glad they were leaving, as it seemed the Gummi Ship was the only place the boy could get a moment’s respite.
“Sora,” Donald pointed to the new population popping up on the streets; Heartless were clambering out of the dark blotches forming on the streets like rats scurrying out from the holes of a block of cheese. “It’s the Heartless!”
Of course, he jinxed it.
They individually pulled— or in Sora’s case, summoned— out their weapons in one synchronized motion before charging down the road and into battle.
But, to Sora’s embarrassment, he tripped. He stumbled over thin air and banged his chin on the cement with enough force to make his eyes water. He didn’t know what was worse, the pain or humiliation.
Gingerly touching the bruised flesh, he glanced up to see Donald and Goofy racing away, the action already shifting away from view.
He was just about to sprint over and join them when he was stopped in his tracks by a mocking laugh.
“How embarrassing.”
A chill enveloped him, goosebumps erupting across his arms as his blood turned to ice.
He’d recognize that voice anywhere.
Yet his mind begged against the logical side, pleading that it couldn’t possibly be him. Though the sight of his face silenced it,
“You…!” Sora hissed through gritted teeth, seeing the other’s amber eyes light up at his ire.
“I’m so honored you remember me.” The young member said, his tone practically dripping with condescension.
How could he ever forget?
It was his fault he failed the exam, why Sora didn’t earn the title of a Keyblade Master (though he didn’t care that much, as it was only a label). But more importantly, he almost became a vessel to be controlled by the older Xehanort. The memory of lying on the streets of the World that Never Was still terrifies him, to the point that sleep avoids him.
Sora could still remember the scene in detail; silver and gold kneeling above, lips curved into a smirk as the younger Xehanort antagonized him in his final moments. Black spots were creeping at the edge of his vision, his heart sinking—worsened by the darkness infesting it— as he was left with the belief this would be his last minute of freedom. Before his free will would be stripped from him. He never realized the blessing of being able to control your own body until he almost lost it.
Nothing could begin to explain the joy Sora felt when he awoke in the Mysterious Tower at seeing his friends’ beaming faces (and Riku’s unconscious one). His heart grew wings and soared, the bird free from the cage darkness imprisoned it in.
But the wings had been clipped as soon as he laid eyes on the chrononaut.
“Of course I remember the face of my stalker.” It was rare if he didn’t see the other’s face in one of the Sleeping Worlds. Not that he wished to see him, quite the opposite. “It’s pathetic that watching me is your source of entertainment.”
Young Xehanort let out another chuckle—which sounded more genuine— at his remark. “It seems your rescue had inflated your ego.” Sora tensed under the gold eyes that scanned him up and down. “Though you do seem different now that we’re outside the dream realm, specifically your attire. What a pity, you lost the gift we made for you. Was the shirt not your desired color?”
Any remnants of shock or fear were washed away by the tidal wave of rage. How dare he! “The good fairies made these for me— It has protection spells from the darkness, no thanks to you jerks.”
"Seems like they did an alright job. Too bad the fairies can't protect you against the real threat..." Young Xehanort critiqued cryptically.
The boy raised a brow.
“…the darkness hiding in your heart.” The Organization member continued, his amusement growing at Sora’s dumbfounded look. “Imagine my shock at seeing you, the oh-so-pure light, utilizing the force you’re meant to detest.”
“… What do you want?” Sora muttered, thrown off at the other’s observation. So the Organization knew about his new form. “Or are you here just to antagonize me?”
“Though that would be enjoyable, no. I'm here to introduce you to your new home. You’re far due for a vacation.”
“What are you-?” Sora was swiftly interrupted by a Keyblade slashing directly at his face. The boy yelped, narrowly flipping back as he held his Keyblade protectively in front of his torso.
“It’s either you come willingly,” Young Xehanort raised his newly summoned blade in warning. “Or I drag your unconscious body.”
“Never.” Sora snarled before taking the offensive.
Minutes passed of exchanging blows, each one accumulating small scrapes from a lucky hit. He was trying to wear him down, and unfortunately, it was working. His limbs were burning, not used to being used to the max for prolonged periods. It was even getting harder to breathe, like a hand was slowly squeezing his lungs. Young Xehanort didn’t seem as affected. The only sign was the faint beads of sweat sliding down his forehead as the two engaged in close combat.
Sora refused to openly admit it, but the other was an advisory opponent. He was swift, but when those blows landed, they hit hard, being the perfect balance of speed and power. Even if he were at full power, Young Xehanort would be a struggle to defeat.
The boy cried out as the blade sliced through his arm, leaving a long, red line. Clumsily casting a Blizzard (which wasn't the smartest, as it sapped his remaining energy), he sprinted to the deserted part of their makeshift battlefield, digging in his pockets for a potion.
Why did he have to have so many pockets?! Curse these cargo pants!
His heart soared in relief as his fingers glided over a glass texture. Triumphantly, Sora took out the small vial to pour the green liquid over the bleeding gash. However, his arm erupted in agony as a scorching whip wrapped and tugged his bicep. The potion flew out of his hand, shattering on the ground and spilling the precious juice on the cement.
That stuff’s expensive.
His head whipped around, gritting his teeth as he saw not Young Xehanort’s Keyblade, but a neon blue whip. He must’ve formchanged his weapon! Well, he can do that too.
He could see the chrononaut’s silver brows rise as his Kingdom Key dissipated, only to narrow as another Keyblade was summoned in its place.
Gripping the handle of Shooting Star, his hand readjusted as the weapon shifted into an arrowgun. Sora fired a couple of shots, he was rewarded with a shout of pain and the whip loosening around his arm.
Lamenting over the loss of his potion, he turned toward Young Xehanort, who was examining the angry blisters on his shoulder.
However, they both paused as the yelling from the battle between the Heartless a couple of streets down began to diminish.
Sora internally celebrated. Once Donald and Goofy came, they could take him down. The chrononaut seemed to realize this too, as panic flashed across his face.
“Like I said, I’m not going anywhere.” A smirk played on Sora’s lips as his confidence was renewed. For the first time in their interaction, his opponent displayed a hint of frustration— a subtle twitch of his eye. Sora didn't anticipate the blur that was his Keyblade aiming for his skull.
Stars exploded before his eyes as his head burst into agony, already feeling the beginnings of a massive migraine. Sora’s knees trembled, threatening to collapse beneath him as bile rose in the back of his throat.
No! I can't give up! Not when they’re so close!
Victory was only minutes away, or even less. He can hold on until then.
Ignoring the ringing in his ears, Sora sprinted towards where he presumed his friends were waiting. His quivering legs screamed in protest, yet their cries were silenced as a hand lunged for him. And unfortunately, it reached its mark.
His exclamation was cut off as metal links dug into the skin of his neck. The chain around his neck threatened to split under the sheer amount of stress from dragging an entire body.
A strangled scream bubbled in the back of his burning throat, which softened to low whines as a boot repeatedly stomped on his chest. It was a shock his ribs didn't crack.
The pressure on his neck was relieved by a sharp snap, and he could faintly feel something wet trickle down his throat.
A scoff. “What a useless trinket.”
The stars in his vision had faded, a storm replacing the night sky as black blotches clouded his vision. Through the clouds, he could see the striking gold irises of lightning widen in alarm.
He could faintly hear voices.
Donald… Goofy…
Then his world was turned upside down. Literally. He felt a hand holding the back of his knees, and his nausea returned in full force as they began to move. Sora realized he was being carried over the other’s shoulder.
No! I can’t be taken by this guy again!
Shakily raising his arrowgun, he aimed at the other’s legs before pulling the trigger. Young Xehanort let out a low hiss, shaking the boy over his shoulder. The weapon tumbled out of his hands as the agony that exploded throughout his head overwhelmed any feeling in his limbs. It felt like his skull was going to blow up at any moment.
Darkness overcame his vision as he was carried through a Dark Corridor, and as they fled from Twilight Town, consciousness left him as well.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
Dear Sora,
We finally started on magic today. I was— well, am so excited! I always knew I would be better at magic, with my Princess of Heart thing and all. I’m so glad we finished offensive techniques (and Axel stopped throwing his Keyblade around. It's not a chakram!). I think Merlin was also eager to move on. He IS a wizard anyway.
I'm sure you can imagine Axel’s face as he realized today we were practicing fire-based spells. He was a little too excited, and he accidentally set fire to Merlin’s robes. Let's just say he wasn't pleased.
Soon, I’ll be able to fight right next to you. But I'm scared, Sora. For you. I don't want to lose you again, not when we’re so close to finally being back together. I just don't want to be a burden. Sorry for being morbid, but I can’t stop thinking about the upcoming battle. That's why I'm going to train as hard as I can, so I'll be ready!
I think Axel is warming up to me. He’s trying his best too, both in training and being a normal human. Now that I've convinced him to stop apologizing, I think we’ve become closer. I just can't wait to see you and Riku.
Yours truly,
Ka-
“Writing again?”
Kairi instantly shut her journal, cheeks burning.
“Fine, fine. Don't show me.” Axel sat on a smooth boulder next to Kairi, overlooking the forest spanning below them. His red hair shone like fire in the sunset.
Kairi abandoned the book at her side, turning to the former assassin. “Merlin’s done chewing you out?”
“For now. I'm shocked he didn’t just ban me from fire altogether.” Axel pulled out two bars of ice cream he was hiding behind his back. “Here, to celebrate that I’m still among the living.”
The girl chuckled, gratefully taking the bar. “How you don't have diabetes is a mystery.”
The two ate in comfortable silence, admiring the view until the silence was broken.
“Do you miss Saïx?” Kairi asked after licking her bar. She didn't know a lot about the stoic Nobody, as it seemed to be a touchy subject for Axel. She only understood that the two were friends through their childhood, but when they were turned into Nobodies, they drifted apart after Saïx moved up the ranks. Even then, at the mention of the Nobody, Axel’s face darkened.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—” Kairi’s hurried apology was cut off by the ex-assassin’s interruption.
“No, it's okay.” Axel bit off a chunk of ice cream, his small brows furrowing. “I… don't really. It’s strange because I thought I would.” He replied after swallowing.
“We’ve been apart for long enough that… it doesn't even bother me anymore. Not apart physically, but mentally. During the Organization, he completely changed. It was like the person I knew died at the castle in Radiant Garden. It’s… hard to explain, but it’s more like I miss Isa, not the one now. ” Axel’s eyes softened for a rare beat before hardening. He scoffed. “Plus, he was a jerk to Roxas.”
“Yeah, I get that. When I was in Sora’s heart, I was appalled by what Riku was doing. Even if he was working for the right cause, his actions were still wrong. It made me mad… betrayed even. Watching what he was doing, I could only think, ‘The Riku I know would never do that!’ I mean, he’s all good now, but if he could return to the light, then maybe Saïx can still be redeemed too. And if not, once we’re done training, you can go kick his butt,” Kairi smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. “Maybe that’ll un-jerkify him.”
Axel burst into laughter. “Un-jerkify?”
Kairi joined in with her own giggles. “Yeah!”
“That’s not even a word!”
“I’ll make it one. Just between us!”
After a few more seconds of laughing, Axel gripped his side, grinning ear to ear. “Thanks, Kairi.”
The girl returned his smile, licking off the last of her bar. She missed joking around with someone. Ever since the islands fell to darkness, the limited interactions she had with Riku and Sora were brief and mostly about the chaos around them. Though Sora was still her silly goofball, Riku became more serious. Though before they parted ways at the Mysterious Tower, the silver-haired had cracked a few grins.
She hoped he was alright. Both of them.
“Hey, Kairi?” Axel spoke after swallowing a salty bite.
“Yeah?”
“After all of this is over, what do you plan to do?”
The girl froze. She never thought about what she would do after the battle. “I don't know… I didn’t think that far. But, I want to go back to Radiant Garden and find my grandma.”
Kairi’s thoughts returned to her friends. She just wanted to settle down on the islands, or anywhere. She didn’t care as long as she had Sora and Riku. But it was likely the boys would rather go to other worlds. Riku, because it was his dream to, and Sora, because he would want to visit his friends. But her heart sank as she realized that just because they beat Xehanort, Heartless and Nobodies would still wreak havoc on the worlds.
Looks like she’ll never get a break.
“What about you, Axel?”
He rubbed his chin, pondering. “Probably hang out at Twilight Town with Roxas. You know, sit on the clock tower and stuff our faces with ice cream. But, uh… you’re welcome to join.”
Kairi gaped at him for a couple of moments, shocked that she would be invited to their daily ritual. But a grin spread across her face as she replied. “Yeah, but not all the time. Don’t want to kick the bucket from sugar overdose.”
“It’s sweet AND salty.” Axel mockingly scolded, wagging a finger in disapproval.
“Double trouble.” Kairi stuck her tongue out.
“At least we’ll be bedridden together.” The former assassin pointed at his forehead. “Got it memorized?”
She chuckled, bending down to pick up her journal before standing up. “Very. I’m heading to bed, you coming?”
“Nah, go get your beauty sleep, princess.” Axel leaned forward, his green eyes scrutinizing the sunset.
“Alright. Night, Flame-brain.”
“… Heh, night princess.”
Notes:
Omg… a Kairi chapter? I guess that’s more justice than Nomura ever gave her. As you can tell, I really struggled to write her. Also, I love the Axel and Kairi dynamic!!
Unfortunately for me, I finished all the chapters I already written in my iteration of Checkmate, so now I’m treading on new ground. (Chapter seven, baby!)
Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated!
Chapter 4: Nightfall
Notes:
To further apologize, I’ll release a chapter early!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Donald drummed his fingers against the armrest, glancing out the window now and then.
The battle took longer than he thought, and he was quite relieved when it was over. He used a lot of magic to subdue the Heartless so he barely had any bottles of ethers left. However, it was short-lived when Goofy pointed out the lack of a swinging Keyblade.
Donald wasn't too worried. Sora probably got distracted by something, per the usual. However, when they returned to the street where they last saw him, there was no sign of the wielder. The mage pushed down his surfacing panic— He was probably diddle-daddling with the Twilight Town kids or Little Chef.
But a short visit to the bistro and the teens’ secret place showed a different picture, as they all said the same thing:
“We didn't see him.”
He began to assume the worst. Someone can't just vanish in thin air. Maybe Xemnas and Ansem came back and…
No, there was no way Sora would fall to darkness. Plus, they needed the Keyblade wielder intact to be a light. It didn't make sense to kill him.
Donald was ready to comb through the entire town, but the captain wisely suggested returning to Yen Sid’s tower. “Sora ain’t here. Any more time we spend here is a waste.”
The mage gave in, walking back to the Gummi Ship in defeat. But when they were just about to leave the last known location of the boy, Goofy noticed something staining the ground in little droplets. Something red.
Donald’s stomach twisted into knots as the captain picked up something glittering on the cement. It was a couple of miniature chain links, the two at the end broken off. A chain that matched the necklace Sora wore. Donald’s heart had dropped at the realization.
“Ya think it was the Organization, Donald?” Goofy asked, his face unnaturally solemn.
“I don't know…” The mage shook his head, fiddling with the buckle of his seat. Ever since Sora joined them to make three, Donald made sure to latch his seatbelt as tightly as possible. When the boy piloted, he was giddy almost every single time, like he had just inhaled three gallons of sugar. It’s not like he could say no to that face. Yet Sora loved to dodge in a ‘fun’ way: barrel rolls.
Donald learned the hard way when he collided with the ceiling.
Looking at the now-empty pilot seat made his heart gain ten pounds.
“… but we have to assume the worst.”
Goofy followed the mage’s stare, his shoulders slumping. “Maybe, he went to see our friends? Like trainin’ with Herc-?”
“No, the ship doesn't have an autopilot gummi. It wouldn't be able to return unless someone’s driving it.”
“Oh.” Goofy collapsed on the captain’s seat, turning on the controls. “Then I guess we gotta warp to Master Yen Sid.”
The entire ride commenced in silence, the obvious absence weighing them down.
When the teleportation machine spat them out into space, Donald spoke as soon as the tip of the leaning tower could be seen from the windshield. “Do you think Sora’s okay?”
Goofy was silent for a few moments, his face hidden from the mage’s view. “I think he is. The Sora we know is strong.”
The Mysterious Tower was plopped between the only clear patch of land, trees occupying the rest of the grass. When they first came here by train, Donald was amazed at the magic keeping this small patch of soil afloat, at the amount of skill it must take to constantly maintain the floating island.
He hoped one day he’d reach that level.
The beige and green tower slanted to the side midway, and the top— shaped like a mage’s hat— was adorned with stars and a crescent moon while small turrets burst from the structure.
Guilt twisted his insides as they climbed the steps. It was their job to protect Sora, and they failed. Master Yen Sid was relying on them, but now the boy was gone, injured, or dead for all they know.
No, Sora was alive. He refused to believe otherwise.
Donald didn’t even realize he reached the top of the stairs until Goofy knocked on the door to Yen Sid’s study.
“Come in.” A deep voice replied.
The old wizard was seated in his chair, his bushy eyebrows narrowed as they left the large tome he was analyzing and instead landed on the pair. “Donald, Goofy, your visit is unexpected. I hope you bring good news.”
Black eyes searched around the duo for a mop of spiky brown hair. “But where’s Sora? Is he late again?”
Donald glanced at Goofy, both of them sharing looks of shame.
Seeing as the other wasn't speaking up, the mage spoke the dreaded words. “Sora… Sora’s gone.”
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
Consciousness slowly returned to him in waves, and with it emerged something worse: pain.
His brain seemed to contain another heart, throbbing with each painful beat. It was like a hammer was bashing his skull in.
It took a while for his mind to actually work, like the gears had been rusted still. Confusion was the first thing he could pick out of the scrambled thoughts. How did he get here, wherever here is? And why was his head hurting?
He pressed his forehead into the frigid ground, trying to soothe the injury. Sora peeled his eyelids open, further confused at seeing a deep plum hue.
Who paints a floor purple?
Reluctantly, he lifted his head off the strangely colored floor and scanned his surroundings. The small room was shaped like a hexagon, the walls entirely a rich shade of— what a surprise— purple. However, what jarred him the most was the wall opposite him. Or more accurately, the lack of one. Several metal bars blocked the way ahead, seemingly the only way out into the blinding white hallway.
That’s when it hit Sora. He’s in a cell.
Panic bubbled to the surface, making his breaths come out in small pants. Kicking his brain into gear, he searched his fuzzy memories for what could’ve possibly led to this.
A soft orange glow slowly came into view, as well as the faint sound of bells ringing. Yes, now it’s clicking! He was in Twilight Town, heading back to the Gummi Ship with Donald and Goofy after visiting the bistro. But how did he get here? They were walking… but there was Heartless, and they all ran over to eliminate them. Wait, no, he tripped. Then he was interrupted by…
It all came back as he remembered the name.
The taunting. The clash. A burst of pain then darkness.
Young Xehanort had taken him again.
Shame twisted his intestines into knots; not even a couple of days after the disastrous Mark of Mastery, he got himself kidnapped again. How could he have been so weak to let this happen?! If only he would’ve held on for even a minute longer… Then he would be happily cruising past worlds in the Gummi Ship. Well, probably not. Donald and Goofy would’ve immediately dragged him back to the Mysterious Tower to be put on lockdown. He wasn’t blaming the two; no, he would’ve done the same if it were one of them being targeted by the Organization.
But that brought another question. Why did the Organization kidnap him? Sora shuddered at the idea of another attempt to convert him to a vessel. The thought of his free will, his control over his own body, being stripped from him made his heart drop.
Wait, but that doesn’t make any sense. The Organization needs seven guardians of light, and I certainly can’t be a light if I’m stuck playing ‘bad guy’. They probably already found a replacement.
Thinking about all the possibilities was going to drive him crazy. Even now, his head felt like it was going to split in two. He needed to escape.
But first, he needed to check for any other wounds and the severity of them. Sora gingerly touched the side of his head, wincing as the raised bump under his hair flared as he gently pressed down. He definitely had a concussion. He doubted the Organization would be kind enough to give him Advil, let alone a potion.
He moved on to the soreness of his chest, lifting his shirt to inspect the red blotches. Nothing he could do about that; bruised ribs have to heal on their own.
Sora skimmed across the teeny cuts on his neck, grateful that the blood clotted. At least he didn’t have to worry about them bleeding out unless he picked at them out of boredom (which seemed likely). How did these even get here? His heart skipped a beat as the realization hit him.
His necklace was gone.
No, no, no! Young Xehanort must’ve torn it off!
He’s had that thing for years; Riku had given it to him when they were kids, and now he lost it. He hoped Riku wouldn’t be mad, though he’d trade thousands of those necklaces to see him and Kairi again, even for a second.
Well, there was no use crying over spilled milk.
He needed to get out of here.
Clinging to the wall for support, Sora got to his feet. The first few steps were the hardest, swaying underneath the pounding of his head. Eventually, his legs understood the simple assignment, and he made it to the bars.
They stubbornly remained in place as he tugged at them.
Fine, two can play this game.
His racing heart slowed as the familiar hilt appeared in his hand. Grounding his feet to the floor, he raised his arms and brought them down across the bars. The clang was ear-splitting in the otherwise silent hallway, a direct stab into his brain.
Nothing, the metal didn’t even dent.
A few more hits maybe? Sora repeatedly bashed the rods, wincing at every impact. He forced himself to stop as his arms became the equivalent of jello. But still, the bars were in prime condition.
The boy was confused, mad even. I could slice through skyscrapers, but now I can't even dent this weird super-steel?!
“Hey! Let me out of here, you... You…!” He couldn't even think of a decent insult with how angry he was.
Sora screamed into the hallway until his throat burned, slamming on the bars. He was hoping with all the noise he was making, someone— anyone, he could even tolerate the younger Xehanort— would come, and he could demand answers from them.
It didn’t take long for a Dark Corridor to appear, the shadowy portal appearing on the wall beside him. He was tempted to run through it, but a person stepped out before he could entertain the notion.
“You’re lucky it’s me who heard you,” The silver-haired drawled as the corridor closed behind him. “Not someone else more prone to anger.”
“I wouldn't call seeing your face ‘lucky’.” The boy spat, glaring at the new arrival. “Where are we?”
“I can't tell you that, Sora.”
Sora tightened his grip on his weapon. “We’ll see about that!” Raising his Keyblade, he only made a few steps in before his vision went white.
The boy instantly sank to the ground like an anchor. He landed with a painful slam on the floor, hitting his head in the process. However, the agony ten times the kind that had been seated in his skull was now running rampant through him, like it had been injected straight into his veins. All he could do was jerk uncontrollably, unable to breathe as if he were in a seizure.
The screams— wait, no, that was his own— slowly withered into nothing as the abrupt pain faded, leaving nothing but a slight ache.
Sora glanced around for the source, his wide eyes zeroing in on the last bolts of electricity dispersing from the chrononaut’s Keyblade.
“Learn your place, Sora,” his blood boiled at the words, brushing past the slight warning in Young Xehanort’s tone. “Or your stay here will be very unpleasant.”
“I am not below you.” The boy hissed through gritted teeth, jumping to his feet (which was a bit wobbly to his embarrassment).
The chrononaut stared at Sora with exasperation— like he was a stubborn pet refusing to be trained. That analogy didn’t soothe his anger.
“Can you at least tell me why I’m here, or will you just zap me again?” He wasn't expecting a real answer. Normally, the average Organization member would spout some mumbo jumbo and escape through a Corridor of Darkness. Yet again, Young Xehanort managed to surprise him.
“I ‘zapped’ you because you were going to attack me, not for your questions. But if you must know, we need information.”
It was Sora’s turn to scoff. He didn't think the Organization was that stupid; they believed he would just roll over and obey whatever command was issued to him. He wasn't a dog! “You guys are dumber than I thought if you think—“
However, the chrononaut shook his head, his silver hair swaying with the harsh movement. “No, not from you. Your companions.”
When it clicked, he didn’t bother to mask his revulsion. “That’s low, even for you.” He spat, disgusted at his lack of humanity. “Though I’m not surprised.” It was hard to believe these people even had a heart in the way they acted.
Young Xehanort looked unfazed by the words. “Well, you don't have to enjoy my company for long. I'm sure your friends will cave in very soon.” He then added with a sneer. “It only takes a paper cut on you to get them to weep.”
“You don't know what you’re talking about— They’re ten times stronger than you’ll ever be!”
The Organization member’s infuriating smirk instantly fell.
A small victory.
“At what? Holding hands by the campfire and singing ‘Kumbaya’?” He snarled, rapidly approaching him. In the blink of an eye, his body was slammed against the wall as Young Xehanort’s hand clenched around his neck. “You’ll find out very soon that your little ‘power of friendship’ is worth nothing here. Do you hear me? Nothing."
Sora was flabbergasted by this side of him. He had never seen the other express so much emotion, let alone get agitated. It was like a switch had been flipped in his brain.
“You’re wrong! Even though we’re apart, our hearts will always be connected! The light that binds me to my friends is more powerful than any pain you can throw at me!” The boy gasped through his compressed windpipe.
Somehow, the chrononaut became even stranger. The grip around his throat slackened to the point that it was a minor inconvenience while Young Xehanort’s eyes widened, the raging fire that was present before was extinguished. He stared at Sora for what seemed like an eternity, his wide gold irises deeply searching his.
He looked almost… vulnerable.
But he must’ve imagined it because, in an instant, his face was wiped clean of any emotion.
Young Xehanort dropped Sora on the ground, backing away as a Dark Corridor appeared behind him. However, before he parted, he left one last chilling word. “… you shall soon see the darkness that sprouts from loneliness is far stronger.”
Sora held up a hand to stop him, but he was already gone in a flurry of darkness
Notes:
Donald and Goofy are just two worried parents. And yes, the YX crashout will be explained in future chapters.
Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated!
Chapter 5: Strength to Protect What Matters
Notes:
In my very high spirits, here’s another chapter. I can’t believe on one random day, I go to the KH subreddit and see Missing Link getting canceled (Whatever really, the only mobile game I care about is DR, as I’m sure all of you can tell by now) AND KH4 PICTURES?! So hyped now, and I can’t wait for the realistically speaking, 2027 release window. And yesterday was my brother’s birthday… so cheers for that!
Also yesterday was the 14th… and Xehanort wanted a FOURTENTH life to explore the new world… SO YX WILL BE IN KH4 (Ignore my mad ramblings. Sadly, YX will probably not be in KH4, but if he is, I will scream at my monitor)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Both he and Mickey were confused— Confused is an understatement— when Chip and Dale called them. In the sunny square of the reformed Radiant Garden, they informed them that Master Yen Sid urgently requested their presence at his tower.
Riku could only assume the worst throughout the entire way back, involuntarily drumming his fingers against the armrest of the Gummi Ship.
Organization XIII was the most likely candidate for causing problems. Maybe they wreaked havoc on a world, or attacked someone?
I doubt they could find Kairi and Axel—Lea, but Sora…
Riku’s heart dropped
No, he’s strong. He can handle whatever comes his way, and Donald and Goofy are there too.
Yet the nagging persisted in the back of his head until he could no longer keep it to himself. Riku hesitantly shared his doubts with the King.
“I dunno… but the Organization doesn't have any reason to fight Sora,” Mickey reassured, though it seemed more for himself.
“I just don't get why he wouldn't tell us if they were bothering him…” He scoffed, “Never mind, that’s something he would totally do.” Sora did always have that hero complex.
The King drove toward the machinery floating in the endless navy. “We can both ask him as soon as we get to the tower.”
Riku was blinded by the explosion of light as they warped as the windshield became impossible to look out of. As quickly as the harsh glow appeared, it was replaced by a crooked tower, balancing on top of a sphere dotted with trees. They made it to the world.
Getting to the study was a blur. Even as Riku got to the top of the stairs, he was barely winded— which he normally was because stairs are a pain—, only aware of the pounding of his heart.
Mickey creaked open the wooden door and hurried over to Master Yen Sid, leaving Riku to his own devices. The teen took notice of the solemn expression the old wizard wore, but didn’t linger on the observation as a familiar redhead caught his attention.
“Kairi!”
The girl turned around, whatever conversation she was sharing with Axel (Or is it Lea now?) forgotten as she caught sight of him. Her violet eyes lighting up, Riku was bombarded by a small, red missile. “Riku!” The boy in question wheezed, shakily wrapping his arms around her as the collision knocked the wind out of him. “I-In the flesh…”
Gone were the days when he was too aloof to show affection.
Kairi pulled away, smiling widely. “So how was it? The Realm of Darkness? Are you hurt? Did you find Aqua? Is she okay?” Her tongue was running at a hundred miles per minute.
“Uh… cold, no, no, and I don't know.”
“Well, maybe you should wear a jacket… one with long sleeves.” She tugged at the short sleeves in question, an eyebrow raised in amusement.
Riku scoffed, tugging his arm away. “Okay, mom. How about your training?”
“It's going great! I can't wait to show you all of the things I learned from Merlin!” The teen glanced over at Kairi’s fellow student, who was standing awkwardly by the crescent moon-shaped window.
Riku opened his mouth to tease her but was interrupted by a sober voice.
“I’m afraid the reason we’ve gathered today is not a good one.” Master Yen Sid spoke from his chair, his bushy eyebrows furrowed. Riku glanced over at the former Keyblade Master before his eyes landed on Donald and Goofy, who were unusually quiet. The large gap between them was painstakingly evident.
“Where’s Sora?”
Guilt written across their faces, they looked away from his searching eyes.
“I'm afraid that’s why we’re here.”
Kairi stepped forward. “What happened to him?”
“He’s missing.”
“W-what?!” Both the islanders exclaimed in sync.
“There’s got to be something to show what happened to him!” Riku reasoned, his voice trembling.
When Donald and Goofy recounted their side of the story, he hung on every word. His heart dropped further at the mention of the remains of what looked like Sora’s necklace. Riku inspected the bloodied chain links lying on Yen Sid’s desk, and he confirmed it to be true.
He would know; he’s the one who bought it for Sora on his birthday. That day would always be unforgettable— the newly turned six-year-old stood by his half-eaten plate of red cake, politely thanking each of his family members for their gifts. Only a few presents made Sora’s face light up, toys that were now shoved in the back of his closet, but as he unwrapped Riku’s gift, the biggest smile graced his features.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The boy chanted, running over and embracing him in a bear hug.
“I-I just thought of you when I saw it…” Riku attempted to say with a bored tone, failing to play off the affection.
Sora never took the jewelry off since. Until now.
“We’re all worried about Sora, but we must take caution. It’s wise to assume this is Organization XIII’s doing,” The former Keyblade Master sighed, steepling his fingers. “That’s why we should wait for them to act, so Kairi and Lea are to return to their training—“
“No!” Kairi shook her head in disbelief, scoffing. “This is the reason why I’ve been training— to protect my friends! I don't need more practice, I'm ready!”
Lea stood next to her, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. “Even if we are ready, we can’t just walk up onto their front lawn. It’s a suicide mission. Once Yen Sid thinks of a plan, we’ll be more than prepared to kick Organization butt. ‘Kay?”
She slumped in his grip, staring at the ground in defeat. “Yeah… okay.”
Riku shot her a questioning look. The last time they were together, she was moping the entire time for having to train with her kidnapper. Now they’re best buds?
The mage nodded in appreciation to the former assassin. “Precisely. Riku and Mickey are to continue on their tracking of Master Aqua, while Donald and Goofy are to search the worlds in search of Sora. For all we know, this could be a big misunderstanding, and he could be stranded on one of them.”
The thought of Sora lying on a sunchair at some beach while they all worry sick over his whereabouts was slightly entertaining. Though if that were the case, once they found him, Riku would definitely give him a well-earned smack.
“I will summon you all again once I’ve reached a decision… and I implore all of you not to do anything rash.” His dark eyes skimmed over Kairi for a moment. “We can only hope Sora is safe.”
Riku nodded, not exactly pleased with the turn of events. He didn’t want to play the waiting game, not when anything could’ve happened to his friend.
“Yes, Master.” The King took his leave, and giving a morbid Kairi an affectionate noogie, he followed the mouse outside the study.
Before he shut the door, he thought he could hear something from the former Keyblade Master.
“May your heart be your guiding key…”
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
“Riku, look! Look outside!”
Sora’s toy boat was abandoned on the carpet as he ran to the window. Riku glanced up, seeing the boy on his tiptoes, his chin resting on the windowsill.
“Huh?” He stood up to follow, easily being able to see through the window without the need to stand on his toes.
Bright rays appeared across the night sky, disappearing as soon as they reappeared.
He hurried over to the door and, to Riku’s shock, sprinted outside. “Sora!” He made sure to take his wooden sword with him. Who knows if there’s some bad guy outside? Riku shut the door as quietly as he could before running toward the boy, who sat on the grass.
“We’re not allowed out here at night…” He scolded, which the preschooler ignored, looking up at the sky in awe. If Sora’s parents found out they had done something bad, he wouldn’t be able to have sleepovers or playdates with him.
However, it seemed only Riku realized this as the boy squealed in delight. “But it’s a meteor shower! I’ve only ever read about them!”
He huffed, but like always, gave in to Sora’s whines. Plopping onto the grass next to him, he also admired the sky.
After a while, Riku glanced over at him to see his face and was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “You okay?”
“What if a shooting star hits the islands?”
Normally, he would’ve laughed at the question, but the terror on his friend’s face made him hesitate.
“If it comes,” Riku stood, raising his wooden sword. “I’ll hit it right back into outer space!”
Sora watched him with astonishment, his mouth slightly ajar.
“I’ll protect you, no matter what.”
The preschooler shot him a genuine smile before it turned mischievous. “Nuh-uh. I’ll protect you first!”
“Nope, me! I’m stronger!”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Uh huh!”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Uh huh!”
“… fine. But you’ll see, I’ll be the one to save you when you act like a dummy!” Sora proudly crossed his arms.
Riku rolled his eyes. “I doubt that.”
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
“How are you okay with this?” Riku grumbled, his glaring eyes fixed on the gardens ahead.
“With what?” The King asked, his tone even. He could feel his eyes burning into him from the side.
“Not doing anything!” Riku twisted toward him, fists shaking in anger. In helplessness. “The Organization could be doing anything to him and we’re just sitting around while—!”
“You know we can’t just challenge them like that,” Mickey shook his head. Even his ears seemed deflated. He didn’t even try to deny that Sora’s disappearance was caused by the Organization. “We can’t take them, not yet.”
“… I-I know. But he’s our friend. If it was the other way around, Sora would’ve come running after us as soon as he heard.”
“I know.” The King's eyes then hardened, his chin lifting. “But moping isn’t going to help him. When we find Aqua, we find Ventus and Terra. With those three, we can take them on!”
Riku looked at him, guilt pooling in the pit of his stomach. Who was he to be sad? Sora wouldn’t want him sulking! Mickey was right— they had to continue their mission. Then he could bash some Organization head in.
“I doubt that.”
The teen twisted around so fast he was shocked he didn’t crick his neck. He’d recognize that voice anywhere, and sure enough, it was the Xehanort who kept bothering him during the exam. “You! Where is he?!”
The young man tilted his head to the side, his pale hair dangling beside his face. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” He was smiling. Jerk.
“Don’t play coy, Xehanort. What did you do to Sora?” The King summoned his Kingdom Key D, though Xehanort didn’t look cautious in the slightest. “Hm? Oh!” His gold eyes lit up. “You’re talking about him. Don’t worry, we’re taking very good care of him.”
“Because that’s reassuring.” Riku spat, gripping his materialized weapon.
“There’s no need for violence. I’m merely a messenger.” He held his hands up in mock surrender.
“Say it and go.”
“Fine. If you want to see Sora again in one piece, give us the whereabouts of the New Seven Princesses of Heart. If not…” the threat hung in the air.
Riku’s blood boiled. How dare they lay their slimy hands on him, let alone hurt him? He opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by Mickey. “How do we know you’re telling the truth— that you have him?”
Something metal skidded across the pavement, stopping at their feet. It was the rest of Sora’s necklace. He suddenly felt sick. “Is this something you recognize?”
“You’re a monster.” Riku spat, shaking with barely repressed rage.
The younger Xehanort only stared at him, his expression blank. A Corridor of Darkness appeared behind him as he began to step back. “The clock’s ticking. The longer you take, the more he endures our ‘hospitality’.”
“No!” Riku lunged forward, ignoring the King’s cry of horror. He wouldn’t let him escape!
However, his Keyblade slashed at thin air.
Xehanort was gone.
Notes:
Comments and Kudos are appreciated!!
Chapter 6: Replica
Notes:
“Oops, I did it again!”
I’M SO SORRY!! I didn’t mean to update so late, but I had many final exams coming up that I needed to study for as well as packing. I’m moving in two weeks so my life is a bit hectic right now, to the point I barely have time to write except for me staying up late at night. Please accept this chapter, which was easily the longest I’ve written.
Also, from my first iteration of Checkmate, this was the final chapter I posted, so the next one is completely new!
Chapter Text
There are 6 walls.
10 bars.
1 floor.
124 breaths so far.
However, counting was losing its merit—Boredom was going to kill him before the Organization could. Or he’ll just go insane.
So, Sora entertained himself by recalling his latest encounter with one of their members, which happened who knows how many minutes ago. Young Xehanort had snapped right before his eyes; he’d never seen the normally haughty chrononaut become so rabid. It almost scared him. But after, the younger Xehanort just stared at him like a deer in headlights. The glimmer in his eyes almost looked… sad.
Sora scoffed. What was he talking about? He was just imagining things, his bleeding heart attempting to pity the Organization member.
Well, nice try. I’m not falling for it.
He had other things to worry about, like how he was going to get out of here. Getting himself captured not only endangered himself but the princesses too. All because he was too weak. His stomach gained an extra ten pounds with hot, burning shame. Sora didn't know who the new Princesses of Heart were, but nobody deserved the Organization’s hospitality.
A Corridor of Darkness manifested in front of him. Speak of the devil.
Sora tensed, preparing to see the chrononaut step out, but was surprised as another familiar face appeared instead.
Although it was the same gold eyes boring stoically into his, that was where all similarities ended. His skin was pale, marred by twin jagged scars spanning across the middle of his forehead to underneath his eyes. Instead of silver, his hair was a cornflower blue and reached his mid-back.
He recalled the battle against him, how in a matter of seconds, he went from apathetic to a raving lunatic. His final words were a plea, begging for a Heart from the moon shining above him. It must’ve not been his last if he was standing right in front of him, perfectly unharmed. It wasn’t fair. Despite all the Organization members he eliminated, they were revived because of a visit to the past. Thanks a lot, Xehanort.
“What do you want?” Sora demanded, his gaze challenging.
“Your presence is required.” The Nobody droned as Sora stared incredulously at him. These guys really need to get it in their thick skulls that he’s not a dog, and he won’t follow orders like one.
“Sorry, I can’t,” Sora refused to budge from his spot on the floor. “My schedule’s filled for the day. Very busy.”
Saïx scoffed, yanking him off the floor. He held back a pained groan as the ache in his head shifted to throbbing. Being shoved against the wall by the younger Xehanort didn’t help his concussion. “I’m sure you can make room.”
The boy dug his heels into the ground, only to be tugged forward and hauled through the portal. Suddenly, his heart flared in pain, as if a hand was slowly constricting around it. It probably wasn’t the best idea to be dragged into the darkness-infested corridor without protection.
As soon as it appeared, the discomfort left as he was tossed onto the frigid floor. The smell of rubbing alcohol attacked his nostrils— it reminded him of a doctor’s office. Climbing on all fours, he examined the polished metal tables lined with machines he couldn’t identify, chemicals, and vials. The latter had an array of vivid liquids as if the colors of the rainbow had been sealed into them. The labels on the glass had a bunch of science-y-looking words that he would probably butcher the pronunciation of. This definitely wasn’t for a height check; it was more like a mad scientist lab.
He didn’t have to wonder long as a door slammed open, ricocheting off the wall. Yelping, a man hurriedly dumped a pile of steaming beakers into the trash can. His (surprise, surprise) gold eyes narrowed as they zeroed in on Saïx, and Sora was thrown off by the oiliness of his voice. “What do you want? You can clearly see I’m busy.” However, once he noticed the other’s presence, his lips curled up in a smirk. “Ah, yes, Sora. It’s been a while.”
“Do I know you?” He blurted out, not caring that it sounded rude. He’d never seen this man before in his life.
“It seems the other members had yet to teach you manners.” Sora’s expression hardened as he caught sight of the other’s attire. Yes, he was wearing a white lab coat, but underneath the black Organization coat could be seen. “But it would be rude of me to forgo introductions. My name is Vexen, the leading researcher and reserve of Organization XIII.”
The boy couldn’t help the loud snort that escaped him. “Reserve? How pathetic do you have to be—?!”
A heavy boot stomped on the back of his neck, cutting off his words with an “Ack!". His face was uncomfortably squished against the ground. “Silence,” Saïx emphasized the demand by further pressing down with his heel.
Vexen drank in the sight, his eyes lighting up with amusement. Sora wanted nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, preferably with his Keyblade. However, the only thing he could do was squirm underneath his boot like a worm.
“There’s no need for such brutality. I would prefer my test subject to be in prime condition.”
If he could draw air, he would’ve surely yelled. The Organization didn’t get enough kicks from imprisoning him— now he has to play ‘experiment’ with this mad scientist. Fortunately, after a moment of hesitation, the pressure on his neck was relieved. But it was short-lived as he was painfully dragged to his feet by his hair. Ignoring his feeble protests, Saïx hauled him forward right towards one of those metal tables. And to his horror, there were two sets of metal shackles bolted on the surface, gleaming menacingly in the fluorescent lights.
If they put those on me, I'm screwed!
Blood began to roar in his ears. He clenched his fingers, and to Saïx’s shock (slightly his own too), twisted around before punching him straight in the nose. The Nobody yelped as his hand involuntarily flew to his face, and now freed, Sora sprinted like there was no tomorrow. Only to be violently yanked backward as fingers fisted into his hair like a lifeline. He could feel several strands being ripped out from his scalp.
The coldness of the table seeped into his skin as he slammed against it, his limbs being maneuvered to be locked in place. However, with his skull feeling like it was going to crack open like an egg, he could only lie there and groan pitifully. The next time someone or something hits his head, he’s getting an aneurysm.
Then terror seeped into his heart, sinking deeper than the cold ever could.
What are they going to do to me?!
The shackles clicked shut around his wrists and ankles. To him, that was the sound of death.
“Thank you for your assistance, Saïx, but I can handle it from here.” Sora’s stomach clenched as the scientist raised a syringe. He turned his head to the side, red flags being further raised as he caught sight of a metal tray filled with an assortment of menacing tools. However, he caught sight of something even stranger.
Three mannequins sat limply on chairs towards the edge of the room. The figures were eerily lifelike yet utterly devoid of any distinct features, their faces smooth and blank. They wore the Organization’s uniform like some cursed version of a dress-up doll. “… What are those things?”
“Hmm?” Vexen turned toward the mannequins. “Those are my creations. Put a heart inside of it, and it’ll take the person’s form. Replicas, I call them.” If Sora weren't so terrified, he would have laughed at the proud expression on the scientist’s face, like he was a father praising his children. Well, in some weird way, he was. “And from what I analyzed, you have plenty to spare.”
Sora paused in his struggles against the shackles, blankly staring at him. “What are you talking about?” He only had Roxas’ heart in his.
“You don't know? There are three— I can identify your Nobody, but not the others. But one of the two has been in yours for a while, at least a decade,” Vexen informed. “But don't worry, once I extract them from your heart, we can meet them in person.”
Sora processed this with difficulty— three hearts?! How is that even possible?! How couldn't he feel any of them? And one of those hearts had been in his for that long? “Then what? What will you do to them?”
“Master Xehanort decided to place them as reserves. If one of us were to fall early, they would take their place.”
“You…! How could you do that to them? They’re people, not puppets!” He doubted Roxas and the others would willingly work for the Organization. The thought of them being controlled against their will made him sick. “What don't you and the rest of this Organization get about that?!”
Vexen scoffed. “I don't remember asking for your opinion.” Before he could react, something cold pricked his neck. A numbing coldness crept through his body like he was being frozen from the inside out. He was abruptly exhausted, to the point that moving a finger was near impossible.
Roxas, and the others too… I won’t let them hurt you.
With that promise etched into his heart, he drifted into oblivion.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
Sinking.
He was falling through molasses— even his brain was clogged with it. He couldn't think. He couldn’t move. He could only let gravity take its course to guide his lifeless body.
Even when he gently landed on the ground, he continued to lie there, practically brain-dead. It came back to him in pieces: who he was, what had happened to him, and lastly, those little warning bells. And right now, they were ringing like it was Sunday morning.
He peeled his eyelids open, taken aback as he saw the inky abyss above. Sitting up was a struggle, and after several attempts, he was on his two trembling feet. And what Sora was standing on was a stained glass illustration of himself. Or to be more accurate, 14-year-old him. His eyes were closed as if he were sleeping, yet his Kingdom Key remained firmly clutched in his gloved hand. Four circles hovered next to his head, each one showing a dearest person. Riku, Kairi, Donald, and Goofy… his most beloved friends.
Is this… my heart?
Sora doesn’t remember being here, yet something about it seemed familiar. But if he did dive into his heart, then Roxas and those other people might be here somewhere.
Looking around yielded nothing. All he could see was the glass below him. The glass that was being dyed black.
Sora twisted around, hurriedly backing away from the darkness staining his illustration, expanding until it was easily able to swallow him whole.
He caught a glimpse of a familiar face before having to duck under a massive arm, the clawed nails sharp enough to tear flesh. Straightening, he saw the Heartless had completely emerged from its inky prison and was now standing on its pointed feet. Beneath the dozens of twisted, black tentacles that behaved like some sort of nightmarish hair fit for Medisa, yellow eyes gleamed menacingly at him. Despite the humanoid appearance, the gaping heart-shaped hole etched in its abdomen showed otherwise of its true Heartless nature.
This was the first Heartless he ever fought.
Before that, he battled kids who wielded wooden swords and jump ropes. But as he stood there, facing the massive Heartless, he was terrified. Sora knew this monster wasn’t going to play fight with him— it wanted to kill him. And all he had was a foreign, oversized key while the Heartless could simply crush him under their heel.
But not anymore. He fights Heartless and Nobodies twice the size of him on a daily basis. Triumphed over Titans and Dragons. Heck, he even cut through skyscrapers like butter. The weapon that had been a strange entity to him was mastered, to the point that it was an extension of him. Molded precisely for him.
What can one puny Heartless do about that?
With a burst of speed, his blade slashed through the Heartless’ leg with ease, jumping over a hand that fumbled to seize him. Rapidly spinning around, the limb burst into flame and withdrew as he shot a Fire spell.
Sora’s opponent fell to its knees, tilting back as a giant dark orb materialized and expanded in front of its chest. Then, several duplicates burst from the sphere and barreled towards him. He dashed away, catching a glimpse of them close in behind him. Practically throwing himself to the side, the oversized orbs flew past him and vanished as they failed to hit their target.
As the boy rushed back into the battle, the Heartless slammed its fist into the glass. Leaping over the pool of darkness expanding beneath the hand, he scaled up the arm and brought his Keyblade down on the head beneath the writhing tentacles. The Shadows that emerged from the darkness circled beneath him, like crocodiles beneath a flimsy wooden bridge.
Then the light came.
After connecting several blows on top of the Heartless’ head, Sora’s vision exploded in pure white. Even as he shut his eyes, they burned agonizingly as if someone had set a blowtorch on them. He blindly scuttled away from the source,— an estimated guess on his part— only to tumble in a free fall and painfully land on the glass with enough force to knock the wind out of him. Right, he was balanced on the Heartless' shoulder, several feet above the ground. And any moment now, those Shadows from before will pounce on him.
Yet no blow came. Instead, he felt nothing but warmth encasing him, like he was soaking up the sun at the beach. He could even hear the waves.
Sora jerked upwards at the realization, his eyes shooting open. Once his eyes adjusted to the blinding sun above him, he could see the ocean gently lapping back and forth on the scorching sand. A salty breeze gently ruffled his hair, making the heat more tolerable.
He was… home.
A look behind him confirmed this with the wooden treehouse and shacks. He could almost hear Kairi cheering him on, see Riku chasing him toward the paopu tree, where the three would sit and talk about homework and stupid stuff.
How could he take this for granted?
I’ve become friends with so many amazing people, but at what cost? Fighting for my life daily? What if this isn’t even worth it in the end… Am I wishing that the clock would rewind? That I never left the islands? Is that selfish of me?
Sora silenced that train of thought. He had other things to worry about than his boo-hoo pity parties. Such as the boy sitting on the beach.
He kneeled inches away from the waves, the wind whistling through his blond hair and his black robe whipping through the sand beneath him. As Sora walked toward him, he recognized the blue irises analyzing a rugged seashell.
“Roxas?”
Eyes locked on him, narrowing before widening. “W-wha— how are you here?!” His Nobody hurried to his feet as he dusted off his clothes.
“Uh… good question. But it’s not a good reason— the Organization is trying to take you out of my heart.”
There was a pause, rage smoldering beneath the surface. “Those… we have to stop them.”
Sora knew his anger. When they reunited at The World That Never Was during his Mark of Mastery, it had been all-consuming. As soon as they joined hands, Roxas’ short life had flashed before his eyes. The sadness, the frustration, the loneliness, it crushed his heart. If he experienced his life for only seconds, he couldn’t imagine how it was for Roxas. All because of that stupid Organization. They took his life— all of theirs— away.
“I think I know who can help,” Roxas pointed towards the Secret Place, the stone tunnel concealed by vines. “He’s in there.”
“Okay!”
Roxas sprinted past the sea shacks with Sora just behind his heels. However, the sight of a lone figure stopped him. The small, black-clad individual was sitting on the paopu fruit tree, their hooded head facing toward the endless blue. It was the same one he, Riku, and Kairi sat on at the end of the day to chat. But as he turned to point the person out to Roxas, there was no sight of him.
Reluctantly, Sora ran to the miniature island.
Even as he approached, the girl, as he could tell from her slim figure, didn’t turn toward him.
“Who are you?” He demanded, his eyes narrowing as he saw her attire— the Organization coat. She turned toward Sora, her hood falling to reveal dark, short hair and purplish-blue eyes.
It’s that girl I saw during my exam! But why does she look like Kairi?
“Me? I’m just a puppet,” A small smile graced her lips.
“What about you? You could come with me.” Sora recommended, wanting to know more about the mysterious girl. Especially if she thought she was a ‘puppet’. “If you’re in my heart, then you’re in danger too.”
Her dark brows furrowed. “Danger?” A short explanation later, Sora jumped as she laughed bitterly. “So the Organization wants their tool back…” The girl's irises were filled with crushing sorrow, reminiscing of memories unknown to him.
“Tool? Listen to me, you’re not an object. You’re a person, no matter what anybody tells you, and if they say otherwise, they’re jerks!”
She slowly looked up, her eyes holding a glimmer of hope. “I… thank you, Sora. I’m glad I met you.” The girl raised her hand and pointed at the Secret Place. “You should go. He’s waiting for you.”
Sora followed her finger before turning back to her, opening his mouth to ask for her name.
Nobody was sitting on the tree.
I might not know you, but I will get you your own body. Then you can tell me your name.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
It was just as he remembered. The stone walls were marred with an uncountable amount of carvings, mostly just names or sappy romance stuff like “P + J”. Sora’s hand glided over them, his eyes closing.
Although the details were fuzzy, he remembered discovering this place with Riku. They were on a search for a monster as the rumor spread among the children. They were both disappointed as the roars had only been the wind, but they were entranced with another sight— A wooden door lacking any doorknob or keyhole. No matter what they did, they couldn’t open it.
It had become their secret place, and when Kairi was added to the group, it was hers too.
Sora’s eyes landed on the chalk drawing near the door, seeing the picture of him and the girl handing each other a paopu fruit. His heart couldn't help but soar as he looked at Kairi’s add-on.
If only they could feed each other one outside of an illustration.
A boy sat on a boulder, his back resting against the stone wall. He looked nearly identical to his Nobody (or Roxas looked like him?), the only difference being the clothes and the boy‘s hair being a tad lighter. However, he was sleeping.
“Um… excuse me?” Sora prodded his cheek, feeling a bit rude despite the circumstances. “I need your help.” There was no response, not even a twitch. He lightly shook his shoulder. “Hello?”
He was rewarded with his eyelids fluttering open, revealing bright blue eyes, a perfect duplicate of Roxas’. “H-huh…?”
“Look, I’m really sorry—“ Sora’s apology was interrupted by a startled yelp. “Sora?! You’re here?! But how?” The teen scrambled to his feet with a bewildered expression.
He shrugged hopelessly. “I wish I knew.”
“Oh… well, anyway, I’m Ventus, but you can call me Ven.” Ven held a hand to shake.
However, Sora didn’t take it. “Ventus?! Like ‘missing Keyblade wielder’ Ventus?” He gasped.
“Uh… I guess so. Didn’t Aqua tell you what happened? About Vanitas?” The blonde’s face fell as Sora’s darkened. “Master Aqua’s in the Realm of Darkness— she’s been there for the last eleven years. We’ve been trying to find her.”
Ven was silent for a moment, his eyes hollowing with horror. “It’s been eleven years… and Terra? Is he okay?” He asked in a tiny voice.
“We don’t know.” He felt horrible for the older teen. If someone told him that Riku and Kairi were missing or trapped in the Realm of Darkness, his reaction would be similar, if not worse.
Sora placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. “I’m sorry, and this is really bad timing, but I need your help.”
After a long pause, the blonde shook his head. “I… no, it’s okay. If you somehow dived this far deep, then it must be something bad. What’s up?”
The quiver in Ven’s voice was painstakingly obvious.
I wish I could comfort him, but the clock’s ticking— The last thing I want is for him to be the Organization’s new plaything. I have to tell him.
“There’s this really evil Organization— Organization XIII, and it’s led by this guy named Xehanort.” Ven’s eyes flashed at the name. “Say no more. I know that jerk.”
“You do? Well, uh… he wants backups, so he’s trying to extract your heart from mine.”
“And that’s where I come in?”
“I mean… I was hoping you could do something.”
Ven tapped his foot as he crossed his arms. After a moment of pondering, he spoke slowly. “I can try something… but it’s a long shot.”
“It’s better than sitting on our butts and waiting.”
His lips twitched upward. “Yeah, let’s go!”
Sora blinked the sunspots out of his eyes as they hurried out of the coolness of the cave. The older teen was fiddling with their sleeve. “Watcha doing?”
He circled Ven to see the metal shoulder plate settled on his shoulder. “It’s my armor. I was thinking that maybe I could use it to protect your heart, at least temporarily.”
Sora glanced around the island. “Uh… isn’t your armor a little too… small?”
The teen wrenched the strip of metal off. “Not for long.” Sora recoiled as his shoulder plate burst into glowing orbs of light before rapidly spinning. “Woah!” He watched in awe as a transparent dome knit together before his eyes, only visible by the ripples of light bouncing off it. “You gotta teach me that! And how to get armor!”
Ven’s laughing face swam in his vision as a sudden pain ripped through his heart. He collapsed to his knees with a gasp, barely able to feel the other’s hands on his shoulder. “S-Sora? What's wrong?”
“My heart… it hurts…” He clung to his shirt like he could somehow claw through his chest and soothe it. It felt like a part of him was being slowly ripped apart. “He must be starting.”
“Look!” Sora lifted his head at Ven’s shout to see a meteor-shaped clump of darkness barreling toward the beach. “Eek! It's going to hit us!” They shared a sigh of relief as the darkness bounced off the dome with a large ‘clunk’, shooting off into the distance.
“Thank Light,” he sighed. “Wait, hey! The pain’s gone— Ven, you did it!! You warded them off!”
“I did?! Yes!” Ven bounced up and down in victory. He was just about to join him only for his face to darken. “But you can't stay here.”
“Huh?”
“You have to wake up.”
Sora hesitated. “But what about you?”
“Me? I’ll be fine; my armor should protect us.”
“Yeah, but you're trapped here—in my heart. I promise Ven, once I escape the Organization, I’ll find Aqua and set you free!”
His lips lifted in a soft smile. “Sora… thank you. I hope we’ll meet together soon, outside of here.”
“Yeah, me too.”
I won't let anyone be a prisoner here. Not Ven, not Roxas, and not that girl either. I'll make sure I find some way to set their hearts free— I owe it to them.
His world was bathed in light.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
He was starting to hate fluorescent light bulbs. Several of them were buzzing above him, barely masking the clicking of a keyboard. It reeked of various chemicals and bleach, a cocktail of nausea that lingered in the back of his throat.
He was back in the lab.
The boy’s assumption was only supported by Vexen leaning over him, his gold eyes filled with satisfaction. “Welcome back.”
Sora’s head snapped to the side, his heart erratically beating as he anticipated seeing an unconscious Ven, Roxas, or the girl seated on one of the chairs. He let out an audible sigh of relief as only the blank faces of the replicas gazed back. However, his triumph was replaced by confusion. Did Vexen surrender that quickly? It was not like the Organization to display mercy. Or perhaps Ven’s armor immensely hindered the process.
“Yes, yes,” Vexen tsked as he glanced at the vessels. “The extraction was a failure. Their hearts responded vigorously to my attempts.”
The Nobody slowly strolled into view and blocked the replicas, a peculiar look on his face. “But it’s rather convenient, don't you think? How swiftly they came to their defense…”
Icy fingers wrapped around the boy’s chin, yanking his head up so he was forced to stare directly into Vexen’s amber irises. “It was almost like something warned them… or someone.”
“Maybe I did… or not.” He replied coldly. “Sorry for ruining your little science project.”
An emotion similar to anger flickered in Vexen’s expression before it was replaced by clinical fascination. The crushing grip loosened before entirely slackening, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Your determination is fascinating, at what lengths you go to protect your friends… and even strangers.” Vexen studied him for a few uncomfortable beats. “You’re an interesting individual, Sora. I'm sure the Master will find this occurrence compelling. Now, let us return to your ‘room’.”
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
Sora collapsed on the floor with a painful thud as Vexen dropped him off through a Dark Corridor. His body felt like it was encased in cement, each limb so heavy that even the smallest movement seemed impossible. His eyelids grew increasingly leaden, threatening to succumb to the weight of exhaustion as the weariness that had been gnawing at him finally surged like a tidal wave.
Sora just wanted to sleep, and he didn’t care where. However, as he began to entertain the idea, he was stopped short. His sluggish brain was now just acknowledging his surroundings, and his eyes flew open as his head jerked up. The boy's back pressed against the wall as he was cornered, leaving him to stand and gape, his mouth slightly open in a futile attempt to make a sound.
At the opposite side of the room, which was not very far, stood an all-too-familiar Organization member, his gold eyes boring with a cold and slightly hungry intensity into his. The gaze alone was enough to turn his blood into ice.
Out of all the members, none of them had left such a strong impact as he did. The one who cruelly lied to the others about having no Hearts, who imprisoned Kairi, whom he clashed with in the most challenging battle he’s ever been in. He had fought relentlessly, easily the most formidable out of all his past opponents. He hurt Riku to the point that he could barely walk.
“… What do you want?” The small edge in Sora’s voice was lost to the shock.
“To greet the new addition to the team.” Xemnas’ voice was as chilly as his eyes and just as unnerving, yet it could not hide the thick venom of dark humor. It made the boy twitch with anger that swiftly overrode his fear. Anger and sarcasm were a shield to him, an armor to give him a façade of control.
“I’m not in your stupid Organization,” Sora snarled back, not at all amused by his ‘joke’. “Whatever you guys are planning, it won’t work. I won’t do anything to help you— I will never stoop down to your level!” Pigs would fly before he donned a black coat.
The former superior was not affected by the fiery tone thrown at him. Instead, he stared at him like he was a child doing something mildly irritating.
“But you will, in fact, you already have.”
Hands clasped behind his back, Xemnas agonizingly strolled toward him, each step seeming like five in the small, suffocating cell. Breath hitching, Sora desperately wished the wall beneath him would disappear so he could right the distance.
“All you have to do is listen, yet as always, you have to be difficult…” The Nobody sighed, though he didn’t seem surprised at the boy’s aggravating resistance. “I’ll make it easier for you. You are, by no means, allowed to attack or snark the members and reserves of this Organization, and you are to follow instructions at all times, no matter their content. Do you understand?”
Wisely, Xemnas, who towered over him a couple of feet away, continued before the other could protest.
“Under no circumstances may you attempt to escape or leave this cell in any way. You are to be silent and obedient; no more, no less. If you violate any of these rules, severe punishment will be administered, and let me assure you, whoever will inflict it will not hold back.” His eyes flashed a darker shade of gold as he issued the threat. “Do I make myself clear, or do you have some concerns to share?”
Sora’s eyebrows were raised, finding his monologue absolutely ridiculous. He breathed out something akin to a laugh. “What—?!” He couldn't even fathom the words that reached his ears. “You think I'm going to roll over and help you guys?! You think a little speech is going to convince me?!”
“I’m warning you before you make a mistake you’ll end up regretting.” Xemnas backed away as a Corridor of Darkness appeared behind him.
“Wait!”
To Sora’s surprise, the other halted in his retreat, turning to face the boy. A single silver eyebrow was raised, waiting for him to continue.
“If my friends give you the information,—which they won’t— what are you going to do to me?”
Xemnas seemed to ponder for a moment before his lips twitched. “You’ll be exterminated.”
His smirk shifted into a full-fledged grin at the boy’s outraged response and sensibly left the room before the scene could escalate. Sora watched the corridor close behind the Nobody.
He’s just trying to push my buttons. They won't kill me, they need me… right? No, of course not.
That didn’t stop the fearful shudder that racked his body.
Chapter 7: I’ll Just Be in the Way
Notes:
IM SO SORRRRRYY!!! Now that we finally moved, the shenanigans have died down. I’m enjoying my new, bigger room (I even have a mini walk-in closet!). Now that I finally have free time, I offer you guys this chapter for forgiveness.
All of my readers, I sincerely thank you for the incredible amount of patience you have (I guess KH fans are used to it ‘cause of KH4 wait). I’m honored to write a fic for you to enjoy (hopefully!), and all of your kudos and comments make my day!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
She wished she could enjoy the view. Maybe in another universe, she could admire the stars twinkling above and trace constellations, walk outside to feel the breeze ruffle her hair, smell the pine trees.
Maybe in another universe, Sora could be safe.
But she’s not— Kairi’s trapped in this one. How could she admire the stars when he’s all she could think about? How could she leave the tower if the threat of disappearing loomed over her?
Now, she and Axel were stuck here until Merlin arrived to escort them.
Yet, Kairi couldn’t believe it was real. It all just seemed like a fever dream, something only found in her nightmares.
Sora was gone.
What if it’s Riku next? Or Axel?
She took a book off Master Yen Sid’s shelves, trying to soothe her frazzled mind. Back on the islands, she loved the library at school as she settled into a little corner and dived into books about marine life. It seemed much more enjoyable than seeing Riku and Sora race across the school grounds. There’s only so much boy-bickering she could handle!
Cracking open the novel, she read:
A Phoenix Down is one of, if not THE, rarest healing concoctions. Produced by the tail feather of a Phoenix mixed with a Megalixir, it can revive someone tethered on the edge of death. However, with how infrequent phoenixes are, these concoctions are nearly priceless.
“Hey, bookworm.”
Kairi didn’t need to raise her head to know it was Axel. “Bookworm? At least I read. The only thing you care enough about is the ice cream menu at Twilight Town.” She teased, though her anxiety sucked out the humor. It sounded flat— not like her at all.
Axel attempted a weak smile. “You wound me.”
Kairi fell silent, not sure what to say other than the obvious, though trying to bring up the elephant in the room was impossible. Just the thought of talking about Sora made her throat close up. She freed her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “You know any constellations?”
“Nah,” He joined her at the seat by the window. “At the castle, you couldn’t see the stars at all. I guess I could’ve from other worlds, but I never stayed long enough for nightfall. Sunset’s more my jam.”
“Well, you see that one there?” She pointed outside, tracing an outline with her finger.
“What? The weird-looking half circle?”
“Yup, Corona Borealis. There was this King, Minos, who had this weird tribute. He built an enormous labyrinth, so complex and confusing that even its inventor barely got out. Each year, he gathered twelve of the most handsome or beautiful people to be placed in the labyrinth.” At that, Axel smirked and pointed to himself, to which Kairi playfully shoved him. “It’s not that easy! The labyrinth wasn’t just a maze, it was also a prison for a ferocious monster. Those people were meant to feed it. In the third group was this guy named Theseus, and the king’s daughter, Ariadne, fell in love with him. She promised him safety if he would take her away when he escaped, and he agreed. She gave him a ball of magical thread to unwind while he was in the labyrinth so that when he killed the Minotaur, he could follow the thread and find his way out again. Theseus pulled it off, and the two sailed off, only for him to desert her on an island. Heartbroken, she waited, until another guy named Dionysus came to her aid. He made her the most beautiful tiara with seven of the brightest jewels. When she died, her crown was placed into the sky, and the seven gems became stars.”
“That Theseus guy sounds like a jerk.“ Axel remarked, now looking up at the constellation.
“Yeah…” Kairi fiddled with the spine of the book, suddenly interested in the gold words peeling off of it. She would give up all of the stars to see Sora again.
“You got any other cool stories like that? About conste— Huh?” Kairi looked up at that, seeing Axel quizzically staring out of the window. “They’re back… Riku and the King.”
She stood up so fast that black spots appeared in her vision.
They must’ve found Master Aqua! Then, when she tells us how to find Ventus and Terra, we can look for Sora!
Kairi raced down the steps, throwing open the door to see the landing pad lowering. And only two figures are walking down.
Her smile faltered.
No matter, she might be injured, and she’s resting in the Gummi Ship.
She hurried down the path, stopping in front of them. “You’re back! Is Master Aqua okay?”
Riku averted his eyes, refusing to look at her as he hurried toward the door.
“Um.. alright. King Mickey? Is everything okay?” His reaction was barely any better, but at least Mickey could meet her eyes.
“It’s best if you go back to the tower. This is something we need to tell everyone.”
Kairi’s stomach clenched uncomfortably. “Is it about Master Aqua?”
His ears flopped. “No, it’s about Sora.”
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
“I see… I was afraid I was right.” Master Yen Sid sighed heavily, solemnly shaking his head. “Though I would never think Xehanort would stoop this low. Giving up the location of the new Seven Princesses would be a significant blow… one we can't afford to take. Even then, I only know of a few.”
Every word seemed distant despite only being a couple of feet away from the wizard— like hearing them from underwater. She didn’t want to listen, let alone believe it. How could she live with the fact that while she was laughing with Riku and telling Axel stories, Sora was held captive by the Organization? Suffering.
Kairi knew firsthand what it was like to be imprisoned by them, and she wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy (well… Xehanort might be an exception). But now Sora was sharing that fate, and worse.
Riku didn’t seem to be doing any better. His face was pale, even after shakily recounting the story about Xehanort antagonizing him.
“Despite the grave news, our top priority remains the same— finding Master Eraqus’ pupils so Sora can be rescued. It’s urgent that Donald and Goofy are to join you two in your pursuit.” Master Yen Sid stroked his beard in thought.
Kairi didn’t see any point in arguing. She and Axel were going right back into training anyway.
Back to being useless.
Benched.
“That is all. Merlin should be arriving soon.” The wizard nodded toward the redheads.
She watched Mickey and him engage in a quiet, though intense, conversation, though her attention was diverted to Riku slipping through the door. She didn’t even hear it close.
Kairi followed him, descending the stairs to see his slumped figure sitting on the bottom step. “Hey.”
Riku offered a weak grunt.
“Mind if I join?”
He responded with a half-shrug.
Kairi plopped down next to him, silently analyzing him. It’s been a while since she saw him, at least more than ten minutes. She noticed the wrinkles at the ends of his eyes seemed more pronounced.
Kairi kept forgetting that he had grown up.
Not just in the year she was stuck in the islands, but the week after the Mark of Mastery.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
He was silent for a moment, glaring a hole into the wooden door. “I never apologized.”
“… Huh?”
“To you… to Sora. I destroyed the islands, helped Maleficent, and I almost got you and him killed. For what? My stupid dream? I was an idiot…”
“Riku…” Kairi placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Even before all of this, I was a jerk— I would always goad Sora to compete against me… for you. I’m sorry, Kairi.” He shifted uncomfortably under her fingers.
Kairi lowered her gaze, shame pooling in her stomach. “I-I wasn’t any better,” she struggled to piece together her thoughts. “I could’ve stopped you guys fighting over me, but a part of me… enjoyed it. I’m sorry.” She felt filthy.
Riku’s cyan eyes softened at her confession. “It’s okay. The past is in the past— don’t let it drag you down like it did for me.”
A lump formed in her throat, and suddenly her tears seemed impossible to control. She buried her face into his chest, deep sobs wracking her body. After a moment of hesitation, Riku wrapped his arms around her small body.
“I-I missed you.” She blubbered.
“… Me too.”
Kairi wished they could stay like this forever, but they couldn't. Not without Sora. Not when he was still suffering. But in her friend’s arms, she could close her eyes and forget the cruel world around her.
That was good enough.
Notes:
Omg?! ANOTHER Kairi chapter?! I love making POV’s of characters that I struggle to write. This one was pretty short, but it was definitely one that I needed in there.
Also, this is my first new chapter I’ve written that goes beyond Checkmate 1.0’s plot. (I only reached 5 chapters in that one, without a prologue)
Chapter 8: No Heroes
Notes:
OMG 500 HITS?! This is crazy! Thank all of you, for reading this fic. It gives me joy to see the number of readers growing!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The ground beneath him was warm, almost to a burning degree. It was similar to walking on the beach barefoot, and unfortunately, he knew that from personal experience.
I didn’t know my blanket was that thick…
He peeled his eyes open to see not the high ceiling of his room, but a reddish, cloudy sky. And even more startling was the person crouching next to him. “Woah!” Xehanort recoiled, scooting backward on his bottom.
“Morning!” The cloaked figure chirped as they peered over him.
Wait, I’m not at Scala. I was traveling through a Corridor of Darkness, and I thought I could brave the darkness without my armor. Seems I was wrong, since now I’m here in this… wasteland.
Wasteland was accurate with the dust, heat, and the lack of any civilization.
Xehanort sat up. “Who are you?”
“Who am I?” The man— as he could tell from his deeper voice— stood and shrugged. “Let's see... I could introduce myself as Theodore or Jack, but I can't prove that's really who I am. So what's the point?”
He couldn’t resist an eye roll, in which the other playfully recoiled like he had just been hit. “Hey! I saved your life, you know.”
“You what—? Oh…” So he was the one who dragged him out of the Dark Corridor. But how? How was he able to traverse it? He didn’t have any armor, only that leather coat that hid his face from view.
“I was taking a leisurely stroll when I spotted you passed out on the ground without any protection.” The man strode away from him, settling on a rock.
Leisurely stroll? A Dark Corridor isn’t a walk in the park— Darkness is not something to be toyed with. Is he brave, or plain stupid? Who exactly is this guy?
“Let me guess... You thought your heart was strong enough to withstand the darkness in there. Is that it? Or did you just take a wrong turn somewhere? Wait, are you a tourist?”
Xehanort hoped his cheeks weren’t burning. Only now did he realize how much of an idiot he was for taking off his armor… it didn’t matter that he was the child of destiny, he wasn’t immortal. He changed the subject. “Well, what about you? Why were you there?”
Not surprisingly, he dodged the demand. “Whoa, calm down. Sit. Let's talk.” Xehanort stood and joined him at the boulder, staring expectantly at him. “I used to be a Keyblade wielder. More or less.”
“Really?” The boy raised a silver eyebrow. “I've never heard of you.” He squinted, trying and failing to get a good look at his face.
“Like I said. Used to be. More or less.” He emphasized his words with air quotes.
Xehanort summoned his Keyblade, his suspicions growing. “How can I trust you?” His fingers twitched as they prepared to act on any wrong move.
However, his hand clutched thin air as the weapon vanished in a bright flash, instead resting in the man’s hand. “Wha—“
He returned Xehanort’s Keyblade. “Ta-da! See? Trust me now?”
“Even less.” The boy spoke dryly. Despite his words, he wished away his blade.
“Ouch. Well, anyhoo, I just wanted to warn you that going through these gates exposed is a no-no.” The ex-Keyblade wielder wagged his finger. Xehanort huffed, not appreciating being scolded like a child. “Fine.”
When he turned back to the man, he was holding out a black coat. “Here, take it.” He took the bundle of leather, which was rather heavy. “What’s this?”
“A fabulous garment!” The former Keyblade wielder gestured to his own. “It's a little out of fashion compared to that armor of yours, but it provides better protection. The armor's a newer style more suited to combat, but these coats can withstand way more darkness.”
He stood and analyzed the coat. Although it seemed a little long at the sleeves and hem, it could pass for his size.
“If you think you can tough it out without the armor, you ought to make the switch.”
Xehanort glanced at him strangely after his monologue. Was he some kind of merchant? “Are you trying to sell me this coat?” He didn’t bring any munny with him, and truth be told, he’s doubting the quality of the ‘fabulous garment’. Although saving his life was a little too much for trying to get a buyer.
“No, no, it's free! I promise.”
“… Still don’t trust you.”
He didn’t look too bothered. “Stubborn, huh? How'd you end up in there, anyway?”
Xehanort returned to his makeshift seat, smoothing out the wrinkles in his dark pants. “I'm in the middle of my journey to prepare for the Mark of Mastery exam.” He didn’t mention that he wasn’t the only one taking the test. To be honest, Eraqus had slipped through his mind during the encounter.
He expected a ‘good luck’ or a ‘hope you become a master’, not the former Keyblade Wielder being puzzled. “Your what?”
“I thought you said you used to be a Keyblade wielder.” Xehanort’s suspicions were only growing.
“More or less.” He replied cryptically.
The boy gave up on prying a backstory from him. Settling the coat next to him, he explained. “Right. Well, anyone who's qualified to take the exam needs to travel the outside worlds alone to broaden their horizons.”
He and Eraqus were the first students to take the test after the… incident. There seemed to be fewer and fewer people worthy of wielding a Keyblade, so to Scala, two bright minds graduating to Masters was a miracle— especially when those two were the only survivors of the massacre. At times, it was uncomfortable to be praised so greatly, expecting notable achievements and deeds. As if he were some kind of savior.
I’m no hero— I couldn’t save anyone, not the upperclassmen, Bragi, Urd, Hermod, Vor, and certainly not Baldr.
“Ugh, sounds like work.”
“It’s a part of the training.” It was getting harder to believe this guy used to wield a Keyblade.
“Still.”
“Hey, you—“ He emphasized this by pointing at him, “—asked.”
“So your trip’s not over yet?” The man suddenly rose to his feet.
“No.”
“In that case…” Xehanort felt the other lean against him, his shoulder digging into his own. He was heavier than he thought. “… Maybe you can do me a favor. You know, since I gave you that coat.”
The boy scoffed, softly shoving him away. He didn’t budge. “I thought you said it was free.”
Thankfully, he took the hint and backed away. “I just need you to take a peek.”
“At what?”
“People’s hearts.” He emphasized by putting his hand to his chest.
“Huh?” Xehanort blinked, startled by his strange request.
“Human emotions are complex. For example, what you feel toward someone you love isn't always good or well-meaning. It can be a false kind of light. Which begs the question: are these messy feelings that emerge from love still light? Or are they darkness?”
He was a completely different person; Gone was the playfulness and the ignorance, instead replaced by thoughtful observations. Observations that Xehanort had never heard before, at least from someone other than himself. ‘Light is good’ had been drilled into his brain since Scala, yet here was someone who completely flipped the teaching on its head.
His curiosity begged for more like his words were an oasis in the middle of a desert.
“Whoa, where did that come from?”
He continued. “The dark thoughts that dwell inside most hearts bubble to the surface when we drag others down. There are those with power and those without. Those who possess it harbor feelings of superiority and judgment.”
Xehanort thought of the first world he traveled to with his fellow peers, with the walking cards, ‘un-birthday’ parties, and a talking (though cryptic), violet cat. The Queen of Hearts came to mind, who saw her tyranny as just and fair.
“And those who don't, inferiority and envy.”
Another world surfaced in his head, of a desolate castle occupied by animated furniture and a fierce Beast, his appearance dependent on a single rose.
“The weak who fear the strong desire to strip them of their power.”
And the Evil Queen.
“So, who are you? Someone with power? Or someone without? One of the
strong? Or one of the weak?”
“People shouldn't be categorized in extremes.” The boy stood, approaching him. “And even if I were either type, it doesn't mean that I carry those dark intentions.” Xehanort confidently placed his hand over his heart— he was sure his light was real.
“Is that what your experience tells you?”
His smile slid right off his face as the various inhabitants of the worlds returned to his thoughts.
“This trip is supposed to broaden your horizons, right? What I'm asking from you will help with that. In the meantime, I'll be waiting right here for you to get back.” True to his word, the former Keyblade Wielder flopped back on the rock.
“Huh?”
He crossed his legs and rested his chin on his hand. “I look forward to hearing all about it.”
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
Young Xehanort didn’t realize how thick the air was in the cell until he left. His Dark Corridor took him to the outskirts of the dungeon, and he staggered against the wall with a small sigh. He lost count of how long he stood there, praying his heart would stop pounding.
I can't believe I lost my cool like that… what’s wrong with me?
But the chrononaut knew exactly what was wrong with him. When Sora started spewing his typical motivational speech of ‘light is better than darkness’ and ‘my friends and I are always connected’, he thought of someone else who used to say something similar. Brown spikes darkened into wavy black, and blue eyes dulled into a stormy grey. Glaring, grey eyes that belonged to Eraqus.
Looking at him with hatred.
His mind froze at the sight of his best friend's former best friend scowling at him with pure revulsion. So here he was now, clearly out of his mind, and overreacting.
Of course I don't care about him… he’s dead now— Kingdom Hearts is what matters. This is what happens when I don't get my full 9 hours of sleep, it makes me delusional. I just need a power nap or a quick bite, then I'll be back to normal.
Young Xehanort wandered down the white hall, as thankfully, his room and the kitchen were both in the same direction. He wasn't in the mood to do his counting game today. Deciding on whether to eat or sleep, he was startled out of his thoughts by a voice. “Why the long face?”
The chrononaut groaned. “Xigbar.” It wasn't hard to identify the surfer accent.
“The one and only! Are you gonna answer my question?” The Freeshooter was against the wall, his arms casually crossed.
“No.” He tried to slither away, only to be trapped by an arm thrown over his shoulder, like one would do to a friend. It took all of Young Xehanort’s self-control not to look repulsed. “Aw, c’mon. Not even with your ol’ pal? It’s okay, I already know anyway. I hear the kiddo in cell B-7 can be a brat sometimes.”
His head snapped toward him in an instant. “How do you know about that?! That’s classified except for a select few... And you definitely aren’t one of them.”
“As if! The old coot lets me in on everything.” Xigbar smirked.
“Yeah, sure. Says the one who goes AWOL daily, shirking missions.” He knew the freeshooter was bent on finding ‘the black box’, which was coerced out of him by an irritated Xemnas after many blank mission reports. He witnessed the scolding himself with a narrowly concealed grin.
Xigbar held up his hands in surrender, freeing his grasp on his shoulder to his relief. “Alright, alright. Since you know so much, how about you tell me why ‘Sunshine’ is here, and not skipping in flower fields with his friends?”
The younger sighed, contemplating. There was no point hiding it, as Xigbar would probably resort to his favorite source— eavesdropping. “My older self is using Sora as part of his backup plan. To put it simply, it’s basically a ransom; Make the Lights give up the new Princesses’ location, then he’ll be returned.”
“That’s all?”
Young Xehanort stared at him with no attempt to conceal his bafflement. Xigbar somehow manages to always confuse him. “‘That’s all’? What else did you expect? And didn't you say you already knew why Sora was here?”
“I did? Oops.” The freeshooter shrugged with a sleazy grin. “But think about it… Maybe the old coot has some alternative motive. You can’t say he hasn’t done it before.”
However, he denied it with a small shake of his head. “That doesn't seem likely. He gave up on making Sora a vessel—”
“Or maybe, Sunshine’s not that one being tried. He’s the trial.” Xigbar scratched at his chin.
The chrononaut wasn't following. “Who’s being tested?”
“I’m not sure… maybe you?”
Young Xehanort chuckled at first before hiding his smile beneath his hand. “Xigbar, that’s crazy, even for you.” He snorted.
“Am I? Or are you too busy being the old coot’s lap dog? Why, out of all the members, were you the one chosen to apprehend the kid? There are others much more capable than you.” The freeshooter continued, ignoring his indignant outcry. “Don't deny it. What’s so special about you? You’re just a number to the old man.”
The small part of him that wanted to protest withered away. Xigbar was right— all he could do was time travel, and that’s something that isn’t even unique to him. What was so special about him? “… Are you just going to insult me, or do you actually have something intelligent to say? I know it’s hard for you to think, but at least try.” Young Xehanort hissed through gritted teeth, his blood boiling.
“Awwww, is ‘Stopwatch’ mad?” He had a stupid nickname for everyone in the Organization, Young Xehanort included. “It’s okay, kiddo, you’ll understand grown-up talk one day. Though, I don’t think I’m far off. I’ve heard something interesting very about you— At first, you weren’t very cooperative. As soon as you found out about the old man’s motives, you threatened to desert the Organization.”
Goosebumps prickled across his arms. He had no clue where the Freeshooter was getting his sources from, but they were accurate, scarily so. Before, he had no yearning to create Kingdom Hearts— how was it any different from what Baldr did? Vidar too? Was it worth wiping the worlds blank if it killed most of the inhabitants in the process? He fell silent as Master Xehanort raised his hand. Froze as he brought up the notion of disposing of him.
He never thought of disobeying since.
No, not because I'm scared of him. Of course not. It’s because I finally understand why we need to create the χ-blade— hundreds of lives pale in comparison.
“Even now, you have a piece of the old coot’s heart in yours, probably as a precaution. To him, you’re a wildcard. So I think that maybe, just maybe, he’s testing your loyalty. But this is all hypothetical.”
“Loyalty?” The chrononaut scoffed as if the accusation was nonsense. Which it was. “I’m one of the most devoted to the Organization. You don’t know anything about me.”
He expected Xigbar to shrug and say some last-ditch remark, not the grin that played across his lip. Like he knew something Young Xehanort didn’t. “… If you think so. But I know you, both past and present.” Xigbar ignored the curious glance the younger gave him.
“You’ve gone off the rails, talking nonsense. Why would Master Xehanort, my literal older self, doubt me? We’re the same person!” Young Xehanort pointed to his own heart, like the older could somehow see through his flesh, see that their hearts were exact.
“No, not yet.” Xigbar shook his head and walked past the other. His hand roughly tousled his hair like one would do to a child. “But don’t worry your little head over it. You’ll do just fine, as long as you continue on your appointed path.” The last sentence was a murmur, like he was speaking to himself. “Just be a good vessel, Young-Timer.”
Young Xehanort watched him disappear into a Corridor of Darkness, attempting to salvage his hair.
Xigbar really is senile with that crazy talk. There’s no need to stress about it— why would I listen to a maniac? I just need to go back to what I was doing before he popped up.
However, any appetite he had had rotted away, the thought of food bringing a bitter taste to his tongue.
He felt sick.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
He wasn’t quite sure why he was doing this. Not that it was hard, no. Quite the opposite, all he had to do was slap a piece of cheese between two slices of bread and call it a day.
When the Master asked for someone to feed the prisoner, he was the first volunteer in the Organization. Though there weren't a lot of hands that were raised anyway— the heat in the Graveyard might’ve contributed to that as many of his co-workers were too busy boiling alive.
Maybe it was because he wanted to see the prisoner, the brat who killed him. Though for someone who bested him in combat, he looked rather pathetic.
At the farthest corner of the cell was the boy curled up in a ball, shivering as he clutched his stomach. Even from this distance, he could see his expression contorted in pain.
Pitiful.
Marluxia tapped his finger against the plastic tray, smirking as the boy flinched. Sora slowly lifted his head like it took all of his strength to do so— He looked older, his features sharper yet still containing a babyish roundness. The Nobody could still easily snap him like a twig.
Though I shouldn’t underestimate him, not this time. Look where that got me in Castle Oblivion.
However, he didn’t need to worry if Sora was a threat. With the way he was swaying, he looked like he could pass out at any moment.
“Now, we can’t have that,” Marluxia brought the paper cup to his lips before tilting it back. “Drink.”
He thought he would resist, but the boy greedily gulped it down. In seconds, the cup was completely drained of water, not a droplet in sight. Then he had the audacity to throw the thing at him. Yes, it hit his chest harmlessly, but the intent was there. “Is that how you express gratitude? I didn’t know you were so… primitive.”
Sora’s mouth curled back into a snarl. “I don’t need to give thanks to something below me.”
Seems like the boy became impudent too.
“I see my presence isn't wanted. No matter, I’ll see myself out.” He couldn't describe his twisted satisfaction in the way his eyes lit up with panic. It was something poisonous yet sickeningly sweet, settling in the depths of his heart.
“Wait!”
Marluxia turned around, grinning at his hesitance. He treasured the scene, watching him unravel at the simple pull of a string. “Please, I-I… I’m so hungry.”
“Are you? And what do we say?” The taller they are, the harder they fall.
“C-Can I…” Sora grimaced like saying the words pained him. “Have some food, please?”
His smile widened. “Since you asked so nicely.” The Nobody slowly slid the tray toward him. Agonizingly so. As soon as the plate came within his reach, he snatched it. Marluxia watched as he feverishly devoured the sandwich with the frenzy of an animal, like Sora expected his pitiful meal would be snatched away from him— He probably would have if the boy wasn’t so protective of it.
The Nobody patiently waited for him to finish, though it didn’t take long. Once he swallowed the last bite, he spoke. “It was rash of the Organization to deprive you of substance for so long. It would’ve been a shame if you expired.” Sora suddenly found the floor interesting, refusing to meet his gaze. He watched as he picked at his nails. “Are you just going to ignore me?”
He waited for a response, yet received none.
Might as well leave, he’s clearly in no mood. I’d have more luck talking to a brick wall. Or Demyx.
With a casual wave of his hand, he summoned a corridor. Yet, the back of his neck prickled, raising wispy hairs in its wake. Something nagged him like an itch he couldn’t quite soothe. No, not nag. Warned.
Marluxia dove out of the way as the metal tray whooshed past his head, inches from nicking his ear. It collided against the wall with an ear-shattering clang, sending a shower of glass on the floor. The shattered remains of the plate could be considered beautiful, spinning in the air as the purple lights danced on the white surface. But he had no time to admire such things.
His hand grasped the curved handle of his weapon, swinging the materialized scythe around to meet Sora’s Keyblade in a flurry of sparks. “Are you pleased with yourself?” He asked coolly, analyzing the wrath on the boy’s face. “All that your tantrum accomplished was a mess.”
Knocking the blade back, Marluxia fists the front of his shirt. “And you’re the one cleaning—“
His vision faded into white.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
Uncountable numbers of flowers dotted the hill, gently swaying in the afternoon breeze. Overhead, clouds lazily drifted through the blue sky. Purple and grey buildings stood in the distance, though no sounds of civilization reached the meadow.
It looked like paradise.
What is this place? Why am I here?
A little girl sprinted past him, giggling. Her ginger hair was tied back into two, small pigtails. “You can’t catch me!” She chanted.
“Here I come!” A skinny boy followed with his hands outstretched.
A gasp escaped from Marluxia’s lips. That boy… he looks like me. But no, it can’t be.
She squealed as she was tackled to the ground, hysterically laughing. “Lauriam! S-stop!”
Lauriam…
The boy continued to tickle her sides. “See! I’m way stronger than you!” Only to be kicked off.
“First one to the house wins!” Dusting off the grass stains on her white dress, she raced down the flower bed. He stumbled to his feet, groaning. “No fair! You got a head start!”
The scene shifted, the sun now hanging straight above. He— Lauriam, was considerably older, easily in his teens. The boy’s features had sharpened, though he still retained that scrawniness. However, his traits were softened in an expression of peace. Lying on the flower bed, the same girl from the memory before came into view. “Lauriam.”
That’s definitely me. Is this my time being whole? The past? But who’s the girl? In the few memories I still retain, I only see Larxene’s completed self.
The girl’s pigtails now reached her lower back, draping down her white dress like a river. “Lauriam.” Her voice was soft, sweet like honey.
“I knew you’d be here.” At this, said boy sat up and opened his eyes.
That’s right— I used to have blue eyes. Now they’re just bitter gold, a sign of the husk I’ve become.
“Taking a break?”
He smiled playfully, enjoying the shock appearing on her face. “Actually, I'm done collecting my Lux for the day.”
“But it’s only noon!” She gestured toward the sun.
“I know, but I finished a while ago. Taking down monsters is easy.” He grinned proudly. Yet as he looked back, he faltered at the awed look on the girl's face. “What’s that look for?”
Flustered, she stuttered. “Oh, I didn't realize I was— It’s just— I-I don't know how you do it! You’re so amazing!”
Marluxia watched with amusement as the other him’s cheeks reddened. “Thanks.”
The girl settled down next to him, flattening her dress beneath her. “Me, on the other hand, I spent the whole day getting chased around by them…”
“You know, your magic is stronger than mine,” Lauriam encouraged. “Stay calm and focused, and you’ll be done in no time.”
Her shoulders slumped as she sighed. “I know, but it's hard. Can't we pair up? You take the front, I'll take the back.”
He ignored the pleading eyes thrown his way. “We could, but that won't help you in the long run. Maybe when you get strong enough to protect me. Then we'll pair up, and you can carry me through battle.”
“That sounds impossible...” She moped.
“Oh, I've been meaning to ask: Have you decided to join the Dandelions?”
Dandelions… That sounds familiar.
Several pieces flashed in his vision.
A woman in a fox mask handing him a book.
Walking through a wasteland, scarred with the blades of his fallen comrades
A boy in a black fedora, struggling against the grip he had on his collar.
Another boy, this one blond, surrounded by darkness.
A strange, metal pod closing shut around him.
What was that? More memories?
“I'm not sure yet.” The girl’s voice brought him back to the meadow. Her name started with an S, he was sure of that now.
“What’s holding you back?”
“Well, I like the people I'm with now.”
Metal hitting metal, screams filling the air. Dust swirled around them, attacking the weapons of their fallen owners. Another bit.
“Besides—”
“Yeah?”
She fiddled with the petals of a poppy. “There’s someone I want to get to know. And if they're not a Dandelion, I might never get the chance.”
Lauriam’s eyes lit up with playfulness. “Does someone have a crush?”
“No, no, no, no! It's nothing like that!” For the second time, her cheeks darkened into a bright pink.
“Stay calm, focus, be brave.” He teased. With that, she landed several punches on his shoulder. “Stop it, Lauriam! It's not like that, I swear!”
He burst into laughter. “Okay, okay.”
The sound was foreign to Marluxia’s ears. When was the last time I laughed? Genuinely?
“You make everyone’s lives so much brighter. People need that; they need your power.” The girl’s eyebrows raised at his words.
Stre… Streli…
“Believe in yourself.”
Her eyes darted around the meadow, looking at anything but Lauriam as she fiddled with a strand of her orangish hair. “Well, I-I don’t know about that…” She swallowed thickly. “Wait, you’re not just saying that, are you?”
However, she flinched as he stood up. “Not at all. In fact, you just worked that power of yours on me. Things were feeling dull, but now I'm looking forward to what's in store for tomorrow.”
In response, she hopped to her feet. “Then let’s pair—“
“Nope. But I will come running if you're ever in trouble.”
Marluxia didn’t expect the girl to shake her head, nor did Lauriam with the shock written across his face. “No.”
“Huh?”
“You told me what I need to do, so that's what I'll do. I will get stronger. I will carry you one day.” After a few moments, the two of them burst into laughter.
Strelitzia… my sister.
The dam came crashing down, memories and emotions swirling around him like a tornado. He rushed forward and trampled flowers beneath his feet without a care in the world. Marluxia’s fingers were inches away from hers, from the smiling face filled with adoration. The scene flickered, darkness engulfing, engulfing his sister. Taking her away from him. “No, I can’t lose you! Not again!” He thought he saw her reach out for his hand.
He was whisked back to the cell, Sora’s shocked face replacing hers. Marluxia was still holding him up by the shirt, his fingers clenched tightly over his heart. He slowly lowered him, struggling to comprehend the interaction. “You… don’t get any funny ideas about the glass.” He didn’t need to act emotionless. Now that the memory ended, it felt like a part of himself had been scooped out.
My heart hasn’t stirred in a long time. I can’t remember the last time I felt something, or cared for someone. But that girl, my sister… I loved her. But how could I if I forgot about her? If she were important, wouldn’t I remember her? Or is this some cruel illusion meant to give false hope? Why is a heart so hateful?
“I would never do that!” The boy’s words bounced past his ears, sounding as if it was coming from underwater.
The Dark Corridor embraced him as he departed, wishing the longing in his heart would disappear too.
Notes:
I love writing characters that don't get characterization! Yeah, no, Marluxia was a pain to write, but I think it turned out pretty well for the little personality I had to work with.
Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated!
Chapter 9: Tears of the Light
Notes:
We're almost at chapter ten!! This is the darkest chapter I've written so far, and will probably remain as that-- I don't want to write tons of torture if it doesn't advance the plot.
TWs for:
- Cutting
- Stabbing
- Physical trauma
- Electrocution
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
A week passed. Or at least that’s what he thinks as it was impossible to keep track of time. The cell was barren of any windows or clocks, and his only form of human interaction lasted a minute at most. Daily, the rosy-haired man (he had never gotten a name) from before would deliver a cup of water and a plate of the same, bone-dry cheese sandwich that barely kept the aches away. It’s not as grand as it sounds, as every attempt to talk to him failed. As soon as the tray left his hands, he would escape via a Corridor of Darkness. Even with his presence, his mind wasn't quite there; his gold eyes were miles away, traversing his own daydreams.
Why is everyone in the Organization a loony?
Sora took a chunk out of the bland food, chewing it slowly. It coated his mouth like sandpaper, stubbornly sticking even after a gulp of water.
He vowed that when he was rescued, he would never eat a grilled cheese ever again. Whenever that would be… For all he knew, weeks had passed with each meal, or months. Perhaps, his friends decided he wasn't worth the time and resources.
I wouldn't blame them.
Sora scowled at the deprecating voice. With each passing day(?), it grew louder. Clearer. How long would it take to consume him?
Is the darkness getting to me? But my heart is strong. It can't penetrate the light…
“Hey, kiddo!” In his pondering, he didn’t notice the manifested portal. Xigbar was casually leaning against the bars, his thin lips curled up in a lopsided smirk. Meanwhile, the younger Xehanort stood a considerable distance away with an irritated scowl. With the way his eyes kept shooting daggers at the Freeshooter, he seems to also despise his presence.
“Go away. Don't you have someone else to pester?” Sora returned the half-eaten sandwich to the plate, hurrying to his feet. Secretly, he was glad he finally had someone to chat with. He couldn’t handle speaking to a wall for any longer.
“Oo~! Sunshine got some spunk now— During the little exam you bombed, you were just some gullible idiot.” Xigbar paused, his sneer growing into a full-fledged grin. “Well… some things never change.”
Before Sora could beat the tar out of him, the other member interrupted. “Xigbar, the task?” He hadn't seen the chrononaut in ages, but he appeared normal again, if not a little irritated. Looks like the encounter in the cell was just a ploy to pity him.
Xigbar sighed, acting like a kid commanded by his parents to go to bed. “Yeah, yeah, fine. You really are a stick-in-the-mud. Anyway, the old coot wants a chat with you.”
“About what?” Sora eyed the two, noticing how they began to approach. He had no choice but to back right into a corner.
“It doesn’t matter,” Xehanort replied curtly, reaching out to snatch his arm. He wiggled free before he could gain a firm grip and ducked under his outstretched hands. He had two options— one, surrendering and allowing them to take him, or two, escaping through the Dark Corridor. The former was instantly discarded. The day he submits is when Agrabah freezes over. But dodging these two would be extremely difficult; they were bigger and stronger than him. His only advantage was speed.
“Don't be a pain, Sunshine,” Xigbar drawled, not making a move. Yet. “I would hate to hurt you.”
His coworker stared at him expectantly. “Are you going to help or not?”
“Nope, you got it. Or can you not be a big boy?”
Grumbling, Young Xehanort dove for him. But this time, he was ready. He gripped the leather hilt as he whipped his Keyblade in front of him. Luckily, he wasn't quick enough to take heed of the warning. A fireball exploded from the end of his blade and barreled straight into him. The pained howl was the sound of victory to his ears.
Sora hopped over the fallen body, making a break for the portal. He heard a startled exclamation, and he could only hope Xigbar wasn't on his heels. Not even the cold rush of the Dark Corridor could stop him.
The white hallways were eerily familiar, decorated in swirls of grey. He’s been here before. He didn't have long to admire the bland scenery as the Freeshooter stumbled out of the portal. “Sora, I suggest you stop!” Despite the prison break, he seemed cheerful, like all of it was some game to him. He was the seeker, while Sora was the hider. But he was in no mood to play.
“Fat chance!" Darting around, he fired off Blizzard and sighed in relief as his arm froze to the wall. He watched Xigbar give a few test tugs, yet remained firmly in place. Sora opened his mouth to gloat, only to yelp as a laser whizzed past him. He took this as his chance to retreat.
Shouts and weapon-firing faded into the background until they disappeared completely. Instead, all he could hear was the rapid beating of his heart and his too-loud footfalls. His head throbbed to his heartbeat, yet it didn't restrain the soaring of his heart.
I'm free! I really got out, all on my own! I can wait out somewhere until my friends come. Which must be soon… there's gotta be some way I can communicate with them, to call them somehow…
It hit Sora like a truck. The Gummiphone!
Feeling like an idiot, he fished this device out of his back pocket. He still wasn't quite sure how to operate it, but he was sure he could find out. The boy held down the little button on the side Jiminy said was the on and off control. Yet he was confused when a little, red battery flashed on the screen. “What the—? Why won't it work?” He hopelessly hit the button again, letting out a huff as the sign continued to mockingly laugh in his face.
Maybe it broke in battle. What horrible timing…
Sora stuffed the useless device in his pocket and continued his light jog down the hallway. He passed a window where a large city spanned below. One he recognized.
I’m at the World That Never Was! I thought they left this dump after the exam, but they’re still squatting.
Sora froze, his heart nearly dropping out of his chest as he heard several, heavy footsteps behind him. They already found him.
He sprinted toward the stairs ahead, hearing the people behind him speeding up as well. It didn’t matter what it took to get away from them— he would even throw himself down the steps. He almost did as his legs leaped forward. Yet before he could tumble down the first step, a hand yanked on his hoodie, roughly dragging him backward.
“No! Stop!” Sora desperately squirmed, stomping on the feet hauling away from the steps, from freedom. “Let go of—!” The breath was knocked out of him as his back collided with the wall. He slowly slid down onto the floor, groaning in pain as the others began to discuss. Their voices were slightly muffled as the aching of his head forced itself to the forefront.
“Is the boy to return to his cell?” He could recognize the smooth drawl of Xemnas, as well as Xigbar’s casual reply. “No, the kiddo should be there when we spill the beans to the old coot. He was heading there anyway.”
“I’m sure you realize, Xigbar, that the only one reporting the incident will be you. After all, you and the younger Xehanort are the ones at fault.” Ansem spoke calmly, despite the accusation-like words. “But the latter is… too distraught to speak.” The mocking undertone was obvious.
“I’m not acting ‘distraught’,” Sora looked over at the angry hiss, seeing the chrononaut send a withering glare at the Heartless. “And how about I grill your hands like a well-done steak and see how you feel—“
“Ladies, ladies, let’s not brawl now,” If looks could kill, Xigbar would’ve been dead two times over. “Any other time, I would enjoy it, but we'd better hit the road before the kiddo flies the coop again.”
Before he could even think about making a run for it, two strong arms restrained his biceps with a bruising grip. The boy couldn’t even ground his shaky legs before he was hauled forward. “Let me go or I’ll—!”
A hand whacked the back of his head, silencing him with a whimper. His skull is surely going to crack open like an egg one day if this treatment continues— or he’ll just become a vegetable. Young Xehanort seemed to think along the same lines as him as he gave the Freeshooter a warning. “You’ll be the one taking him to the lab, Xigbar, if you continue giving the boy head trauma. After all, he’s sensitive.” If he were nearby, Sora would’ve gladly kicked his shin, but the little punk was at the back of the line.
The darkness of the corridor washed over him, like he plunged into a vat of Christmas Town lake water. He couldn't help but shudder— he doubted he’d ever get used to this mode of travelling. Hopefully, his friends would swoop in for the rescue before he felt any sense of familiarity. He wouldn’t be stuck here for that long…
Harsh winds smacked him across the face as the strange group (I mean, two freakishly tall guys hauling a teenager, another with an eye patch, and one with his hands burnt to a crisp, all wearing black coats, must be a bizarre sight) reemerged into light. Rough sand circled them like a halo while the heat bore down unbearably. The conversation taking place beforehand cut off, several golden eyes zeroing in on him. They each held different reactions— shock, apathy, even glee. Some of the figures’ faces were hidden behind hoods, but even the ones in plain view were difficult to pinpoint due to the towering pillars they stood on.
So the meetings are held here. But where is here? This kinda looks like where I fought that strange armored person. I wonder how he’s doing now…
Sora scrutinized several members, eventually recognizing Saïx, Luxord, and the guy who feeds him. However, he paused on the highest pillar. Gold clashed with blue, sending icy shivers down his spine. The boy felt puny in comparison— why wouldn’t he? This was the mastermind, the one pulling the strings. Everything that happened, all the horrible events, he caused. His knees began to tremble, but he couldn’t identify whether it was in fear or anger.
He was cornered by a monster.
“I wasn’t expecting such latency, as well as the extra escorts,” Master Xehanort’s gaze briefly turned to his Heartless and Nobody. “Do tell the cause.”
After a beat of silence and several pointed looks in Xigbar’s direction, he finally spoke. “Fine, the kiddo made a run for it.”
“And the two of you couldn’t handle a teenager?” He asked with slight disbelief, an eyebrow raised. (Well, nonexistent eyebrow. What do I call it? A brow-skin? Brow-lump? Naked eyebrow? Invisi-brow?)
“We did… eventually. I would’ve been able to if your younger self didn’t get himself hurt.” Xigbar crossed his arms as he gave the other a disapproving look. Of course, he was saving his own behind by playing the blame game.
Sora almost snorted as the chrononaut jerked in panic. “Which wouldn’t have happened if you stepped in and helped inste—!”
“Enough,” They both fell silent. “If I wanted to listen to such childish bickering, I would just visit a daycare. I see pairing the two of you together was a one-time affair. No matter, it won’t happen again. Number III, take care of XII’s injury.” Xemnas nodded before summoning a Corridor of Darkness, Young Xehanort following.
Now that his counterpart had left, Ansem released his arm. It’s not like he had anywhere to run to.
“The rest of you are dismissed as well.” The elder’s piercing gaze returned to Sora. “I see that hoping we could have a civilized conversation was foolish. I admire your continuous defiance, boy, but that doesn’t mean I will tolerate it. Were you not informed of the rules?”
“I heard them. But if you think I’ll just kneel and kiss your feet, you’re more insane than I thought! I’ll never obey the likes of you! Ever!” Even the idea of helping him made him ill— he went against every belief he fought for.
“Number VI, wait.” A blonde woman paused in her departure, her face lax in boredom.
“It seems the only solution is a lesson in compliance. I didn’t want to do this, but you forced my hand,” Goosebumps prickled down his arms. What is he talking about? “VI, could you enlighten our guest?”
“Oh, I would love to.” Sora gaped as she effortlessly hopped off the pillar, landing a couple of feet away. He hastily backpedaled, nearly tripping over his own feet as she stalked toward him. The crooked grin sent violent tremors to his legs.
“I hope that with time, and presumably incentive, you’ll learn to behave.” Master Xehanort then turned his back.
I’ve dealt with a lot of enemies, but not like this. I’ve never seen such happiness at the prospect of hurting someone.
The pure malice and glee dancing in her golden eyes terrified him like no one else before. Before he could react, a hand fisted the collar of his tank top, slamming him into a pillar with surprising strength. Stars burst across his vision as he weakly tugged at her fingers. Between the malnourishment, injuries, and magic he used, his energy was sapped “You have no idea how long I waited for this— to give you a taste of your own medicine.” The Nobody giggled.
“W-what are you on about?” If I got munny for every time a random person insisted they knew me, I’d have three. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened this many times. “I have no idea who you are!”
For a few beats, the woman stared at him with a blank expression like he had shouted that grass was blue. “Oh yeah, right, the witch. Well, I'm Larxene; this time, remember it, though I'm sure your little brain will after this,” Sora froze as a single kunai appeared in her free hand. “How much do you think it would take for you to scream?”
“One cut?” The blade hovered near his cheek, threatening to lower.
“Two?” He didn't dare to breathe as she lazily circled his eye.
“I think you’ll be begging by three.” This is all some sick game to her, though he could tell her threats were sincere. Sora hated to be correct as the kunai slashed through his skin, igniting a line of fire. He bit down on his lip— he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. “Hmm? Nothing? You’re tougher than I thought, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
With an agonizingly slow pace, she dragged her weapon down his arm. A whimper escaped Sora’s clenched jaw as the limbs flailed, cracking her across the face. However, he fell limp as Larxene kneed him in the stomach. Air refused to fill his lungs as he gasped like a fish above water, flopping lifelessly on the ground. With the burning radiating through his torso, he could barely feel the woman maneuvering his limbs.
I think I’m going to vomit...
“If you get your sick on me, I’ll break every bone in your arm.” To prove her point, she grasped his wrist, tightening like a vise. “I don’t think it would take much— You’re practically skin and bones. Poor baby….” Larxene cooed with a sympathetic expression, though the poisoned edges in her tone leaked through.
The kunai reemerged in her fingers, resuming her path down his arm. His teeth were going to crack from how hard he was clenching his jaw. Eyes wide, he gazed at the sky pleadingly, like the rusty clouds could somehow take him away, free him with a gust of wind.
Please…
“No, I want you to watch.” Her knee forced Sora’s head to rotate, disturbed by the sight of metal tearing through flesh like butter. Through the crimson sluggishly dripping down his arm, he realized that she wasn’t just mindlessly shredding his skin— she was carving something into his arm like he was a piece of wood.
Branding him.
At that, something inside of him snapped. “What are you doing?! Let go! Stop it! Just stop it!!” He shrieked in a mix of anger, fear, and pain.
She met his gaze, the satisfaction simmering in those merciless eyes making him shudder. “You don't like it? You have no appreciation for the fine arts. Look, I think it looks perfect.”
Just make it stop….
“You see, I never gave you my welcome gift for joining the family,” His stomach churned as she revealed her creation— the number XIII formed with dark red slashes, gleaming brightly in the sun. “You’re welcome, brat.”
“You freak!” To both of their shock, Sora spat a fat blob of saliva on her cheek. Screw the consequences, rage wiped any of his common sense from existence. He didn’t even tremble as she wiped the spit off with a dangerous, almost murderous glare. “You’ll pay for that.”
His only warning was Larxene raising her kunai before suddenly, it was sticking out of his bicep. Sora didn’t think he ever screamed like he did now. Ripping out of his throat, it was so raw, so guttural, he couldn’t believe it came from his mouth. Thick waves of pain rushed through him, overwhelming any and all thoughts.
“This could’ve all been avoided, but you just had to be a little brat,” As soon as she hissed the last syllable, she twisted the blade, earning a drawn-out cry. “You deserve this.”
Kairi, Riku, please!
Tears blurred his vision as the warm liquid dripped down his cheeks. The shame of crying in front of his enemy didn’t even cross his mind— the agony was all-consuming, drowning him beneath its burning depths. It can't get any worse than this. “Aww, the baby’s crying! Don’t worry, a shock always helps with boo-boos.”
He was wrong.
If he thought Young Xehanort’s Thunder magic was bad, this was easily ten times worse. Sora’s nerves were ignited, spreading through his body like a wildfire. He must be drowning— why couldn't he breathe?! Somehow, he was able to shriek at the top of his lungs, writhing like he was being burned alive.
“Ugh, your screams grate my ears…” His sobbing was abruptly cut off by Larxene’s boot colliding with his chest. The magic, continued, tearing him apart, both in body and heart. It was never-ending.
Help me!
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
This is Riku’s fourth time in the Realm of Darkness, and it wasn’t any better than the last few. The darkness was compressing, a constant chill that reached his bones. Even the air seemed heavier. It was depressing to think about someone wandering alone here for a decade.
Yet, the darkness wasn't the cause of his heavy heart.
He failed him. Despite his repeated promise to protect Sora, he never did. He believed the Mark of Mastery exam would be the last mistake, but it happened again— The Organization took him. Yet this time, he can't go rushing in to save him. Jeopardizing himself was one thing, but if Kairi or the King got hurt…
He wished he could take the risk. If only he could pull off miracles like Sora.
Riku shook his head.
Entertaining what-ifs won't magically bring him back— what will is staying focused on Master Aqua. She needs our help too. The longer we take, the more they suffer.
“How long until we get to the beach?”
Mickey’s large eyes analyzed the scenery of bluish-black rocks bursting from the ground. “Not long, I recognize that formation there. 20 minutes?”
“Gawrsh, how are y’all so calm? This place gives me the heebie-jeebies!” Goofy held his shield closer to him, while his companion did the opposite. Staff tensely raised out front, it was rare if the mage spoke, instead opting to sullenly stare off into the distance.
Riku kept forgetting he wasn’t the only one grieving. “Why should I worry? If I got lost in the darkness here, I know that there’s a light that will always shine through to guide me,” he smiled warmly at Mickey as he remembered their time at Castle Oblivion. No matter how hopeless it seemed, he always jumped in to save him from Ansem. “I know it’ll be there for you too.”
“… You’ve grown a lot, Riku, not at all like that kid from Hollow Bastion. I know with a heart as strong and bright as yours, we’re gonna find Master Aqua.” His spirits lifted at the captain’s words.
“T-thanks.” He never thought much of Sora’s traveling companions— other than being jealous of them when working with Maleficent—, but they truly are good people. No wonder Sora holds them in such high esteem. Riku’s mood dampened.
He changed the subject. “On that topic, what was she like?”
“Brave, kind, but level-headed. Loyal too, loved her friends and Master.” Mickey recounted with a slight grin.
“She’s great with magic.” The duck finally spoke, fiddling with the wooden neck of his staff. “Knew a lot of spells I was still trying to master.”
The captain then brought up something that made him double-take. “She kinda acted like you.”
“Really? Me?” Master Aqua, an amazing Keyblade wielder and mage, is similar to him?”
“Yup! Well, less brooding.”
Riku crossed his arms. “Brooding? I don't brood…”
“Well, you kinda do.” The King uttered hesitantly, though he was smiling.
“Great, you too?”
The strange group burst into laughter. At the moment, Riku’s troubles melted away, and it seemed like they could just enjoy these innocent times. Not that it lasted long.
Suddenly, a burning pain ripped through his heart, though it felt distant— like he was experiencing it second-hand. The agony overwhelmed him for a moment, making him freeze in his tracks with a surprised yelp. Just as quickly as it came, it faded into a dull ache.
A glance at the others told him all he needed to know. “You felt it too, didn’t you?” Riku grimaced as he received three nods.
The dog wrings his fingers. “You don’t think—?”
“Sora.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “H-he’s in pain.” The teen kicked at a pebble, dully watching it bounce off the stone formations before plummeting. He could only wish that was Xehanort’s smug face. “We need to hurry.”
“Riku…” He ignored the King’s sympathetic murmur and foraged ahead.
Sora, I’m going as fast as I can, but I'm still late. I hope one day, you’ll forgive me. Just hold on for a little longer.
Notes:
Someone take Sora away from me... Sorry if the Riku section seems rushed, it was a last minute thing.
Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated!
Chapter 10: The Future (Does)n't Scare Me
Notes:
THE FUTURE DOESN'T SCARE ME AT AAAAAALLLLLL
NOTHING'S. LIKE. BEFOREEEPassion/Sanctuary is my favorite, but I love good ol' Simple and Clean.
But, yeah. Sorry. I did it again. Late update. My wifi broke two weeks again, then last weak, my little brother collapsed at Animal Kingdom due to heat stress. Best summer ever! Don't worry, he was fine after an IV, but it was still terrifying. Then yesterday was easily the worst day of the year (Only made better because I finished the AOT finale for the first time and bawled), and somehow today was impossibly worse. But, I'm back, and I won't let life keep me from keeping you guys happy (and me as well, posting a new chapter is such a euphoria).
I'm sure you're all tired of hearing me yap, so instead read this 3,000 word yap about your (and mine) fav characters angst instead.
Also, 30 KUDOS?!?!? I LOVE YOU GUYS SM!!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
His legs were made of lead as he sluggishly climbed the steps, the footsteps following behind hardly reaching his ears. Everything felt so slow, like ice was encasing his heart. Slow isn’t the word… more like numb. Every sniffle from Eraqus, the view of the crumbling academy, the copper smell of blood, it all seemed far away— like he was experiencing it all in another body, simply a spectator.
What was worse, impassive or despairing? Was it wrong to be the former? Do I just not care?
A lump formed in Xehanort’s throat as he wiped away the tear residue coating his cheeks.
None of it felt real. It was just a horrible nightmare, and soon he’ll wake up in the classroom with his friends laughing over him. Bragi’s going to mock him for dozing off, only for Urd to mother over him, scolding him for not getting enough sleep. Then, Hermod will compare their essays, adding changes to his while Eraqus whines, saying he was being a “schoolaholic” and begs to play chess. Most likely, Xehanort would be victorious, to Vor’s delight. “Should’ve listened to me, Era.”
Those days with his classmates were peaceful, even a little boring. Now his heart ached for them.
They aren't dead. It’s just a cruel joke my mind’s playing on me— I need to wake up.
Xehanort gripped the metallic hilt of his Keyblade like a lifeline, enough that if it were any weaker material, it would’ve snapped like a twig. It was the single thing grounding him in the reality of a crushing silence, broken by the faint whispers of the wind.
They could only wallow in the merciless mass, muting them, trapping the two within the confines of their mind and recollections of fading bodies.
“This is where I belong…” Vor had whispered, and despite her face being screwed up in pain, a smile graced her lips. Seconds later, her eyes grew dark and she dissolved into particles of light, the only remains of her once-breathing body were a fading heart drifting away. The scene wouldn't stop replaying in his head, taunting him until it became permanently engraved, of Vor lying still in Eraqus' arms, the latter collapsing on all fours as she vanished forever.
He wasn't asleep, but rather awake in a living nightmare.
Urd, Hermod, Bragi, Vor, and the upperclassmen— they would never achieve their dream of becoming a Keyblade Master.
Maybe he and Eraqus wouldn’t either.
As they reemerged outside, the wind harshly whipped across their face. Clouds adorned the sky in fluffy cotton candy heaps, with only hints of blue visible through the soft mass. Now that they were on the tower, he could see the desolate streets of Scala.
The cause of the ruin was leaning against the banister, a smirk playing on his lips as his pale, silver eyes landed on the two. “The actors are assembled.” His hand was casually resting on his hip as every feature of his body showed indifference, like he didn't just murder his classmates. It made Xehanort’s blood boil.
“The stage is set. The thirteen darknesses will be completed here and now.”
“Thirteen darknesses?” He questioned through gritted teeth. The boy needed clarification on why he would cause all of this destruction and death. What was the point?
“The key to summoning Kingdom Hearts. Thirteen Lights must be given to the shadows.”
Eraqus spoke exactly what Xehanort was thinking. “You were after Kingdom Hearts too?” Like the upperclassman, Vidar.
“Wait,” He interrupted before Baldr could answer. “Calling on that power would purge the world, which means that darkness— you…” He lifted the Keyblade so it pointed directly at Baldr’s chest. “Would disappear.”
His confidence crumbled as Baldr seemed to be unbothered. Xehanort’s blade lowered as the pale-haired boy remained silent for a couple of moments before answering. “You don't get it.”
His lips split into an ominous smile. “Once all is purged, the world will be reborn in darkness.”
Xehanort’s heart sank as the words washed over him.
“So Vidar’s plan wouldn't have worked… It was all for nothing.” The dark-haired student muttered in horror, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
“Not at all.”
Eraqus perked up at his words.
“I paved a path for him to succeed if only he had followed it to the end.” Baldr shook his head in disappointment, though the mocking venom that glimmered in his eyes gave away his amusement.
“What are you talking about?!” Eraqus demanded.
“Oh, do I have to explain everything?” Yet, he seemed more than happy to as his sneer returned. “Fine, consider this a parting gift.”
Baldr turned around, strolling away from the edge. “My first move was to get rid of Hoder and spur Vidar to seek revenge.”
You’re talking about killing your own sister! He wanted to scream. But any hint of Baldr was gone, lost to the darkness controlling him. He would be yelling at a brick wall.
“But once he found out who he needed to destroy, he wouldn't be able to do it.” The boy turned around, now directly facing Eraqus on the opposite side of the roof.
Vidar’s words came back to Xehanort:
“Yes, I knew darkness had chosen him as its vessel, but I couldn't bring myself to take his life.” The upperclassman’s head lowered in shame under Eraqus’ and Xehanort’s intense glare. “I’m sorry.”
“And he’d turn to Kingdom Hearts.” Xehanort finished for him.
Baldr’s head turned towards the boy who spoke, his expression similar to one of being pleased. “That’s right.”
“The second was to deal with Heimdall and the others.”
It revolted Xehanort by how casually he spoke about homicide, like taking people’s lives was as insignificant as crushing a bug under his boot. Eraqus seemed to feel the same as him. “Why was that necessary?!”
“I needed to make sure Vidar followed my plan,” He wasn’t intimidated by the other’s volume, as if he were a toddler throwing a fit. “They were incentive.”
“If Vidar started gathering the seven lights just like you wanted, why did you appear to us?” Xehanort questioned, his tone icy. “You could've sat back and watched everything unfold like you planned.”
“Because he gave up on summoning Kingdom Hearts.”
His eyes rounded in realization, the dots connecting.
“That's why he came back..” Eraqus muttered out loud.
“They got cold feet, so it was time for a third move. A personal touch.” Vor’s corpse resurfaced in his head. Xehanort tensed as the vessel raised his arm, expecting an attack, but he was shocked by his next move. His finger was pointed at both of them as he declared confidently: “Checkmate.”
He heard the audible gasp that escaped Eraqus's lips before he got into position, slightly crouched with his blade ready in front of him. Xehanort followed his motion, his breathing picking up as he prepared for battle.
But Baldr wasn't done. “No more schemes, no more games.” His arm slowly lowered, returning to his side. “I win, you lose, the end!”
He sounds… insane. Like something inside of him shattered as soon as Hoder’s body went cold. I’m sorry, Baldr, we all failed you.
In the blink of an eye, darkness erupted around the vessel. It swarmed him like a thick, swirling mist, coiling and writhing with a life of its own, enveloping him until only a faint silhouette could be seen. Like a fire doused with water, the darkness slithered away, revealing a Heartless in its place, and no sign of him. The same one that exterminated the three upperclassmen Vidar, Vali, Vala, and Vor.
Yellow eyes bore into them under the white helm, the twin swords resting parallel on its armored torso gleaming ominously.
Xehanort glanced towards his friend, whose dark hair was flying in the wind.
I can't lose Eraqus, he's all I have left.
The fight to end all began.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
“Ouch! Can’t you be gentler?”
“I could always not heal you.”
“You might as well since you’re causing more harm than good…” Young Xehanort bit down on his lip, restraining the urge to yelp.
Luck seemed to hate him lately as the procedure that would’ve normally taken 5 minutes, was now triple. Since it took so long to get medical attention (Because I love spending my Mondays towing brats...), the blood had congealed. How was that a problem? Gloves were a part of his uniform. So, it now adhered to his hands, therefore the burns, and Xemnas, the kind Samaritan he is, is ripping off the fabric along with a few layers of his skin.
Okay, not really, but it felt like it.
They occupied the deserted Grey Area as the rest of the members had retreated to their quarters for the day. Sitting across from each other, the chrononaut wished Sora had set any other part of him on fire. Burn on his leg? Arm? Torso? Just pour a potion on it and call it a day, but with his hands out of commission, he had to reluctantly rely on him. It was embarrassing.
With one final tug, the last of the leather is discarded on the grey floor. His skin is an ugly sight, an angry, blistering red. The smell wasn't so great either as it made his head woozy. Xemnas worked on skinning his other hand free. “It could’ve been much worse— if Ansem and I didn't assist, the boy would’ve likely escaped. The Master would be most displeased.”
He said ‘The’ Master, not ‘Our’ or ‘Yours’…
Xehanort didn’t know what to think of him. He never showed dedication to the cause. Was he along for the ride? Or does he have personal objectives? Maybe he’s forced to, like everyone else here.
All of his coworkers looked miserable.
Except for me, coerced glad to seek the χ-blade. Right?
He’s getting off track.
“You act like it’s my fault.” Xehanort winced as he peeled off the gloves like an orange.
“Maybe it is.”
“Maybe it’s not.”
“You’re not taking ownership.”
“But it’s not my fault,” The burns weren’t helping his irritation, growing with each second. “And it’s not like I signed up to babysit!”
“Are you saying you’re not willing to diligently work for the cause, no matter the path to?” Xemnas’ face remained impassive despite the accusation. His constant apathy weirded him out sometimes, feared it a little even— he wouldn't ever want to be a soulless husk.
“I-I never said that… I just— I-I don't see how any of this is necessary,” Xehanort knew he was treading on thin ice. If his older self got any wind of this, who knows what would happen to him… Exterminated for treason presumably. “I mean, we can still rely on the Guardians obtaining their numbers. With this, we’re… wasting resources. Yes, it's a waste of time and energy to keep Sora contained here. And if his friends locate us? We could lose members in the fight.”
Nice save, not that I believe it. The real cause is seeing the kid get hurt, or worse, I’m the one doing it. Whatever, who cares how ‘wrong’ it feels when it’s all for a good cause. But how can I when it all feels so sickening?
However, Xemnas refuted, because Kingdom Hearts forbid, he can’t possibly be wrong. “You sound unsure. Perhaps, you’re not as devoted as you think you are.” Xehanort tries to get to know him better, after all, he’s one of the lesser annoying members of the Organization, but he periodically grates his nerves. This is one of those times.
Seething, he barely flinched as the last of his glove was torn off. “Because everyone else is so delighted to be here…”
A potion was carefully applied onto the skin, soaked into the burns. Steadily, his hands returned to their normal tan, although a bit pinkish. “What an acute observation, XII.” The Nobody sneered.
For the second time this month, he exploded. “Don’t pretend like you’re some saint! You’ve done some messed-up things, Xemnas, things that would make even the Master’s beard curl! When you’re done letting him pull your strings like the puppet you refuse to acknowledge as, then you can play the peace-maker!” Young Xehanort knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as it tumbled out of his mouth, and the dark expression the other wore only emphasized this.
“And you’re any better?” He faltered as Xemnas’ eyes flashed dangerously. Maybe he missed the stoicness now... “When have you ever defied his orders? Or better yet, had an original thought in that little head of yours? I wouldn't suggest throwing phrases like ‘puppet’ around, or I might start to believe you're referring to yourself.”
The chrononaut was stunned into silence, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. The Nobody snickered at the sight. “Nothing to say? Are you afraid that I’m right, that your only worth is being the Master’s vessel, thrown away once your efficacy runs out? How pitiful.”
He jumped to his feet, not that it did his height any good. “You’re lying!” It can’t be true, it just can’t. We’re the same person, so why would he look down on me? What does Xemnas know?! “You’re just jealous of my abilities— that I’m more useful than you!”
Xemnas also rose to his feet, looming over him, his amber eyes piercing through him relentlessly. “Yet, you still cling to your elaborate fictions. I’m disappointed. How does it feel to live so blindly?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. The Master would’ve denied everything you’ve claimed.” Xehanort hissed, fuming as the other let out a dimimtive laugh.
“You can’t go a minute without thinking of your puppet master. But to ease your worries, I can enlighten you to what you truly are,” Xemnas leaned towards him, his lips grazing his ear, shuddering as warm air brushed his skin when the man spoke. “I think you're a spineless, pathetic husk who's so weak-minded that it lets anyone and everyone control it just so you can have a sense of purpose. I think you're a liability to this Organization since you lack any form of true strength.”
A hand clasped his shoulder, squeezing roughly. He could only gape in silence. “Don't take it personally. I'm simply stating the objective fact— that you're worthless and easily influenced, something no one would miss. That's all.”
When he moved away, Xehanort could finally draw air into his lungs. He barely registered the wad of bandages thrown in his hands as buzzing plagued his ears, overpowering Xemnas’ flat voice. “Wrap each hand for the next two days. Layer the inside with a potion until tenderness fades entirely.”
He glowered at the blue bottle placed on the table, like somehow the liquid had been the one to degrade him. The chrononaut refused to look away even when a Dark Corridor appeared.
“A word of advice.”
He felt a pair of eyes burn holes into his back, yet he couldn’t turn to face them.
“Think for yourself. Listen to reasoning other than the one spoon-fed to you. Or else when this all ends, you’ll be left with nothing…”
It softened into a mere whisper, cold yet hollow.
“… nothing but emptiness.”
With those haunting words, he disappeared, leaving silence in his wake. Unwillingly, his eyes began to burn as the world dissolved into messy blurs.
I can’t be crying… he’s wrong. He’s wrong!
Xehanort collapsed onto an armchair, burying his head into his hands, trying to hide from the world, from his thoughts that both comforted and spited him. It wasn’t that simple. The first sob escaped his lips.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
Water flowed down her hands, circling around the drain in pinkish whirlpools. She scrubbed at the last stubborn splotches of blood staining her skin, letting out a low sigh. Larxene regretted not wearing her gloves to the meeting, but it's not like she could predict when she had to play punisher. It was just too hot for leather.
So instead of the simple toss of gloves in the trash, she had to wash her hands with the zeal of a germophobe.
Of course, the brat had to bleed all over me.
Larxene’s head was still pounding from his shrill screams, specifically behind her right eye— it was always that spot. The Tylenol had yet to soothe it.
She was already done with the Organization when it was just the beginning of the week.
Except for one.
The walk lasted far too long, even when speedwalking. The Nobody only slowed once she turned the corner to see a familiar glass door. She knew he was in his favorite haunt without peeking through the glass (which would be difficult with how foggy it was). Her lips curled into her first smile of the day when she pulled it open. “With the amount of time you screw around, you might as well live here.”
The heat slammed into her like a physical force, forcing her to take a few moments to adjust to both the blinding light and temperature. It wasn’t dry as the Graveyard— More like a jungle. Looked like one too.
Flowers of all shades and kinds stalked from the neat rows of soil, petals lightly damp due to the mist spraying from the white ceiling. She joined the crouched man settled on the floor, coolly scrutinizing the sprout he was tending to. Larxene didn't understand his (or anyone’s) love for plants— all they do is die on you, and they’re slightly less needy than kids. Just get a turtle or something if you want something boring.
“Hmph.”
She wasn't amused. “Seriously? I trekked all this way for you to just grunt? If I wanted a caveman, I could talk to any other idiot in this Organization.” The Nobody expected a scoff, a retort, something, yet received none. His face lacked an answer as well, obscured beneath the messy waves of pink strands.
He’s been off since last week, and it’s starting to worry her.
Not worried about HIM. Worried about not having a sane person to gossip with.
“Marly, fess up. What happened? Who did what?” Larxene analyzed him for several beats, her headache growing with each second. It was only when she considered leaving that he spoke.
“Do you remember anything? Back when you were completed?” He gently tipped the watering can, still refusing to meet her gaze. Because the sprout was more important. Figures.
“I’ve already told you that you’re the only one that I’ve seen. Who hit your head?” The Nobody dusted off her coat as she stood. She wasn’t going to crouch in dirt like some primate if he was going to ask stupid questions.
“I remembered something. Someone.”
She froze, the tempting bench beside her forgotten. “W-what? How?”
“I watched memories of me, a little of you, with a girl. She shared some qualities with me… so I think we’re related. We looked so happy, it’s hard to think that used to be me. I don't understand how I could’ve forgotten her… and how I still don't know what happened to her.” Maybe it was a trick of the light, but the watering can quivered in his hand.
“You saw me with her? I don't remember that at all.” She focused on the fuzziness dominating her memories, yet she didn't see how this time would be different from the others. It acted like a broken TV— no matter what dials she turned or switches flipped, the static buzzed nonstop. “What changed for you?”
“I was taming the prisoner when it happened, as soon as I grabbed the front of his shirt.” Marluxia rose to his feet, joining her on the bench. “Strelitzia— that was her name.”
“Doesn't ring a bell. And I touched the kid more than enough times, so why didn't it work for me?” The bathroom sink returned to her mind, crimson coating beneath her nails.
“I can't say.”
A breeze ruffled through the greenhouse, scattering petals and leaves across the floor. She caught a yellow one that glided past her ear and tore off a piece, watching it float gracefully back toward the ground.
I talked to her? Did we meet up? Do each other’s hair? Gush about boys? Shopping? She is was my… friend. Why don’t I remember her?!
“Why did you stay after the meeting?”
Silencing her brain, Larxene smirked at him, raising a blond eyebrow. “Why? Were you worried? Anyway, the old geezer wanted me to teach Sora a lesson. I couldn’t refuse.”
Marluxia picked at the paint peeling off the bench, flecks of red joining the graveyard of torn petals. “So you hurt him?”
“He had it coming. You wouldn’t want to get your revenge?” She tore off another strip.
“I would, but the price is far too heavy.”
Goosebumps prickled down her arm. “Price?”
“If we keep pushing Sora, he could crumble, and we may not like what sleeps in the abyss. The Master must know this too, and he’s done pushing his limits… for now. Miscalcutions are the last thing he needs. It’s common sense to dial down the heat before the pot boils over.”
“He’s scared of him? A kid?” She could snap him like a twig if she wanted to.
“No, he’s scared of the reactions that could result. If we broke the boy, he could give up entirely. That’s another number short for the Lights. Or, once we return him, if we scathe him unnecessarily, then more time will be wasted to heal him, rather than increase their members. Do you see where I’m heading with this? It’s too dangerous to cross his boundaries when it could shatter him— the Master cannot afford to test these theories when it can bring the plan apart.” For someone who wasn’t devoted to the Kingdom Hearts shenanigans, he really thought this one out.
She scoffed, tossing the remains of the flower to the ground. “Maybe you’re overthinking it. He can take a little pain, he’s not a baby… or maybe he is.”
“Perhaps I am, but it’s better to plan exceedingly than poorly, is it not?”
“Look where that got us,” Larxene hissed as she stomped on the petals massacre. “We tried to rule over one Organization but ended up as slaves in another. Nice going.”
“No thanks to you. Weren’t you the one to fall before me?”
She didn't have to see him to know he was smirking— she could practically hear it in his drawl. “The brat was lucky I was just toying with him.”
“You make up great stories. You should be a writer—” They cracked up as she shoved him, the touch sending a tingling down her arm. Ignoring the strange electricity, she watched Marluxia grab onto the armrest for dear life as he dangerously teetered toward the edge. Her arm ached when he recovered and returned the push.
Afterward, they bathed in silence and the mist that gently dusted their hair, though it lasted for far too little. “Did you know sunflowers follow the sun?”
She didn’t have the heart to tell him she didn’t care for his plant nerd facts. “Nope.”
“Heliotropism is a type of response to light, specifically tracking it to maximize photosynthesis. What do you think happens when it loses that light? Where does it look up to? Perhaps it just withers away.” The duo turned to the flower in question. They were bundled together in stalks, standing proudly with vibrant manes of yellow in the same direction.
“Are we still on the topic of the brat or the flower?”
“It's your pick.”
Light? Why would someone need a light? I’ve never needed someone to be my ‘purpose’. Is myself not a reason enough? I'm perfectly fine on my own. These riddles are devastating the Tylenol… First the girl, then Sora being a wimp, and now Marly’s singing ‘You are my Sunshine’. I'm done, who gives a Heart if it's only 3 o’clock…
“C’mon, are the meetings getting to you? You’re sounding like Xemnas with these puzzles! Let’s call it a day, hm?” Larxene jumped to her feet, extending a hand. “Doesn't dinner sound nice?”
“That you’ll be paying for?” He raised a pink eyebrow.
“… Just this time.”
With a small grunt, she pulled him up, the two strolling alongside each other. She didn't miss how Marluxia lingered around a patch of strange-looking flowers by the exit. The orange petals springing from the top gave an appearance of a bird, yet Marluxia’s eyes quizzically misted up at the sight. “Hey! Food awaits. Hurry before the microwave dinner catches up.” Not that she wanted to eat alone.
“Yeah, I'm coming.” She let an offhanded thanks as he held the door for her.
“So in the world I was assigned to had this craaazy seafood buffet, they even had fish eggs! Blegh! But I wasn't going to eat there till you—” The woman’s rambles were cut off as the glass entrance clicked shut, the greenhouse falling into a tranquil hush.
The Strelitzia gently swayed in the breeze, unbothered as a petal broke off. It circled above for a split second, as if it considered freedom, yet inevitably, it collapsed on the soil and moved no more.
Notes:
Absolutely roasted. Gonna need deep Freeze for that one. Just cause Woody's not here to put YMX in his place, doesn't mean others won't. First Xigbar, then Xemnas... who's next? If only YMX would get past his denial phase...
But honestly, if someone told me that I was useless, weak, stupid, and unlovable, I would cry too.
And that Marluxia and Larxene interaction... Maybe she has a heart after all? A little crush too...
For all those leaving comments and kudos, thank you so much. Seeing the hits rising up is joyful enough, but these little words or taps go an extra mile to make my day. You're amazing!
Chapter 11: Nothing's Like Before
Notes:
I got some bad news-- updates will be slower, probably every other week. School started, and I barely have any time to write, let alone indulge in my other hobbies. But hopefully, my body will get used to waking up at 5:30 so I can stay up later to write.
Personal life aside, this chapter's a little short, sorry! The next one will be much longer, and interesting too.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The pieces of glass were scattered on the ground, purple lights twinkling across their glossy surface. It danced across the broken plate like it was alive, the fluorescent buzz a waltz in the background. Propped in the corner was a metal tray, as if it were watching the display as well.
Their own little fireworks show.
Sora could’ve picked the discarded dinnerware up, yet his body cried out with a feeble twitch. His bones were filled with lead, flesh fat and blood thick as molasses, so that even raising his head was an impossible feat.
He was starting to get uncomfortable, which probably had something to do with the hot puddle growing beneath him. The metallic smell wafting from it clung to the back of his dry throat, blending with the bile that never quite left. However, his jaw refused to swallow the disgusting concoction. The boy’s body has been hating him lately.
His only possible escape was sleep, but every time Sora’s eyelids fluttered shut, the pain multiplied, stacking on top of each other, until the strain dragged him back to the world of the living. The glass would be the first thing he’d see, glimmering in a greeting.
So he’s returned to what he did best— Watching, waiting. For someone to gather up the pieces and glue him back together. They dug into his thighs, his arms, his ribs, mercilessly draining him of life, which dripped beneath him in scarlet tears.
Or he’d be left to rot in this cage. Is this the end? The thing that finally kills me is blood loss? No, they’re coming. Either, the Organization of my friends, I won’t spend my last breath here. Patience is a virtue. They just need more time.
Sora missed them so much, to the point of causing physical pain. His heart aches for them, for simpler times.
Riku and Kairi danced on the shore with a pair of sparklers, waving them around like they were casting spells. Overhead, the twinkling stars were put to shame as vibrant lights rocketed up the sky in colorful explosions. The fireworks rang in his ears, yet he laughed beside his friends as family and strangers alike screamed “Happy New Year!”
Suddenly, the sand changed. Coarse, they dug into his back like miniature rust-colored needles. Yet, it was dyed red, the sand, the dagger, the sky. Everything. Pain radiated throughout his entire body like fireworks were set off in his gut, burning everything in its path. The boy’s back arched off the scorching rock as a raw scream bubbled up in the back of his throat.
Tears sprang to his eyes before he suppressed the memory, joyous yet venomous giggles echoing in his head. That was the last thing he wanted to think about now. He hated that he was scared. Scared of her, and what she could do to him.
Was it too much to ask not to be hurt?
“I hope that with time, and presumably incentive, you’ll learn to behave.”
Fire ignited through his bloodstream, dying his vision red. He dislikes a lot of people, but he’s never hated anyone— the concept was foreign. It felt so wrong yet so justified at the same time. A poisonous toxin that twisted everything in its path, bitter to his tongue yet sickeningly sweet in the aftertaste.
One day, Xehanort, I will deliver the punishment you deserve before my last breath. What you’ve done… hurting people, ruining their lives— it’s unforgivable. After all the possessing, the torture, the murder you’ve committed, you should feel an ounce of remorse. But you don’t, because you’re a monster wearing a man’s face, and monsters rightfully earn nothing more than death. I’ll be the harbinger of retribution, and it’s right at your front door.
Sora can imagine that weathered face turning toward him, thin lips curled up in a satisfied smirk, as his cold, amber eyes glowed with challenge.
It’s on.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
“Stupid Xemnas, with his stupid monologues. Never making any sense…” Young Xehanort kicked his boots off, ignoring the loud bang they made as they collided with the wall. He didn’t have any neighbors, and if he did, he still wouldn’t care.
He strode to the windowsill, glaring at the pale, forlorn buildings spanning beneath him, the skeleton of a city.
I’m not useless, I saved everyone here. Without me, they wouldn’t be breathing, let alone insulting me! I brought this Organization together, and anyone who doesn’t see that the Master appreciates it is idiotic!
He paused, realizing he was gripping the sill with pale knuckles, and his fingers throbbed as he slowly pulled away. His heart slowed to a more normal pace as he inhaled slowly, counting along.
1…
2…
3…
My temper’s been horrible lately. Normally I can control it, but ever since Sora was imprisoned here, I’ve become a ticking time bomb. It hasn’t been this bad since the incident…
He exhaled shakily.
Don’t think about that, you’re in a better time now… of being ridiculed, blamed, and worked to the bone. How is this any better!? At least before someone cared for me, and what did I do?! Leave it all behind for some stupid moon and a foolish dream! This is all the master’s fault, and Ansem’s, and Xemnas’, and Xigbar’s! If I wasn’t given the ability to time-travel, none of this would’ve happened! Everyone would’ve been happy without me here, and I would have been happy in those years with him.
The ticking of the clock grated on his ears, like knives burrowing in his eardrums with every twitch of the second hand. He wanted it to stop, wanted to destroy, to be rid of it. Xehanort tore the mechanism off the wall before hurling it onto the floor. He kept stomping as gears scattered across the ground like bronze gore, metal hands de-limbed from the wooden torso and flew across the room, and the frame shattered into splinters. He kept going even when the ticking was silenced.
It’s… my fault.
This time, he let the tears slide down his cheek, dripping on the glass digging into his feet. He was still now, simply staring at the ruin he created, like the deadly silence that plagues a battlefield.
I ruined everything.
Legs trembling, the chrononaut collapsed on the neatly made bed, burrowing his face in his hands. His chest felt heavy, like a hand was squeezing his heart.
Eraqus… what should I do? How do I fix this?
Wiping at his wet eyes, he glanced up, zeroing in on the potion Xemnas gave him.
No, I don’t need someone to tell me what to do anymore. I can do this, on my own. Festering in my bed isn’t an option.
Young Xehanort grabbed the bottle and didn’t look back as he closed the door.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
The Mysterious tower’s interior was dimly illuminated by the moon, just enough to light the words on the page. It should’ve been easy to sink into the book— Everyone had left, either for their mission or training. Yet, the sentences blurred beneath his wandering eyes, like it was being washed off the paper.
He could only think of how cruel Fate is to them.
He rubbed his forehead as his eyelids grew heavy. All of this worrying is taking a toll on his old mind. However, his consideration of retiring was interrupted by an urgent knock on the door.
Who could that be? “Come in.” Yen Sid spoke cautiously, like darkness was going to leap out behind the door. However, the guest who entered could be considered a more threatening force. He tensed in his seat as a black-clad individual slithered into the room, the hood of their leather coat disguising their face. It took the elder wizard tremendous effort to school his face in cold apathy. Sora was in their hands, and perhaps, this person was one of those hurting him, a child.
“Why did you come here?” He kept the venom out of his voice, his clenched fists resting on the wooden desk.
The face was revealed as they approached him, the man’s blond hair shining dully in the moonlight. “Redemption.”
“… I see, you were one of his researchers,” Yen Sid sighed, knowing it was going to be a long night. “Come, sit. We have much to talk about.”
Notes:
WE'RE ALMOST AT 1000 HITS!?!? THANK YOU SO MUCH, ALL OF YOU!! I can't believe my first fic got this much readers! You know who else is amazing? The ones leaving kudos and comments. YOU ALL MAKE MY DAY!!
Chapter 12: Please Forgive Me, Once More
Notes:
I can't describe the shock I felt when I checked the hits. NOT 100. NOT 1000. 1147?!?!?! I'M SO HONORED TO HAVE GAINED THIS MANY READERS! Seriously, it doesn't seem like much to read several angst-y paragraphs and maybe drop a comment or Kudos, but it means the world to me! I did not all expect my first fic to reach such high numbers-- I expected 500 hits at most. I love writing for you guys, and I'm glad it's not ending anytime soon.
SPEAKING ABOUT ENDINGS...
I've officially written half of the fic already with this chapter, as I plan to write 24 chapters so far (more or less). So the next part is kinda the second half of the fic. Congrats for making it this far!
ALSO, WE GOT KH4 NEWS!! And by news I mean a single crumb. On Twitter a user going by @aitaikimochi posted Nomura talking about FF7 Remake Part 3, and they've decided on the announcement of the game (hurray for those who like FF!) HOWEVER, he also added 'We are also making good strides for Kingdom Hearts 4 too!'
Not much... but it's better then nothing I guess. Realistically, I suspect a 2027 release.
For now, let this chapter momentarily soothe the KH4 drought!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Xehanort’s breath came in quick gasps, almost as if he were drowning. How long have they been fighting? It felt like hours passed with each swing. His bangs clung to his forehead in sweaty strings as he ducked beneath a massive blade. Keyblade trembling in his hand, he sliced at the torso of the Heartless, yet just like any other time, it didn’t react, not even a stagger. The boy wanted to scream.
Our attacks don’t do anything! Is this thing even beatable?! If the upperclassmen couldn’t defeat this thing, how can we?!
He mentally hit himself.
Don’t think like that, pessimism doesn’t help anyone. There’s nothing I can do but keep fighting, no matter the cost. Though optimism has always been Eraqus’ speciality…
He risked a glance at the boy in question, relieved to see him well other than some scrapes. He anxiously watched Eraqus dive to the ground as lasers singed the top of his head. Yet, he was punished harshly for the peek.
He felt the blade before he saw it, slamming into his stomach with enough force to send him flying. Xehanort collided with the tile back-first, Eraqus’ shouts turning fuzzy in his ears. He gasped like a fish out of water as oxygen escaped from his lungs, his eyes watering. The tears distorted Baldr’s form from above and the Keyblade coming for him.
Before he could make any pitiful attempt to move, Eraqus dived in front of him, absorbing the blast in his blade. Repelling each other, the two flew in opposite directions. Rising to his feet, he could see the tables had turned. Baldr lay on the ground beneath him, weaponless. Defenseless for the first time.
“Now, Xehanort! Drive out the darkness!” He saw his friend weakly sit up on his elbows, his face scrunched up in pain.
Taking a few steps forward, he raised his Keyblade to strike. He deserves it, Xehanort told himself, he deserves to die. Was he merciful when he struck down his friends? No, so why should I not do so as well? I’m doing the right thing.
“Wait! We can still save him.”
“Xehanort, don’t…” The boy slowly lifted his head, his eyes glimmering with something. Was it Baldr, fighting back? Was something of the boy he knew still there? The blade paused in its descent as their gazes locked. That was all it took.
Darkness burst out of his body, encasing the two of them in an icy embrace. Xehanort stumbled back, but it was too late. The darkness danced around them like a living force, twisting and writhing into an unbreakable dome. Eraqus was nowhere to be seen.
“What’s going on?” His blood turned to ice as Baldr flashed a full-fledged grin, malice and satisfaction brewing in those pale eyes. He was playing him… and idiotically, he fell for it. Now, he doesn’t have any choice but to believe Baldr’s long gone. The darkness was just wearing his friend’s face.
“Xehanort, put that away.”
“Baldr…” It slipped out before he could stop it. However, Xehanort’s heart skipped a beat as he slowly shifted onto his knees. “Stop!”
Baldr wasn’t deterred by his command, as he was shakily, but upright on his feet. “You think I'm true darkness, but you’re wrong.”
“Then prove it.”
“Hearts aren't ruled by just light and darkness; it's not that simple.
Take you, for example. Which holds sway over yours?”
“I…” How do I know that my Heart is pure light? Anger, hate, jealousy, sadness— everyone feels those emotions. If I feel that, how does that make me pure? Or anyone? It’s human nature to be stained, though some are more than others. We all just reassure ourselves that our hearts are strong, and utterly devote ourselves to false light. In his thoughts, he didn’t notice that he lowered his blade.
“Can you swear your heart isn't tainted by even a hint of shadow? That you are like the light, shining brilliantly, ever by our side? Do you really think that you are like them?” Baldr’s grin became impossibly wider, practically showcasing all of his teeth. “We are the same, Xehanort.”
As Baldr crept toward him, he backpedaled with each calm step toward him. “You and I, we stand by the light only to cast shadows and beget darkness; you with Eraqus, me with my sister. And when that light disappears, we lose our purpose and are swallowed by the void.”
“You don't know what you’re talking about.” If I lost Eraqus, I don't know what I would do. But it can't be this... We can’t be the same… No, there’s a difference between us and those consumed by darkness— we try to prevent that, while they accept it.
Baldr’s maniac grin vanished, his face now icily stony. “Believe what you will, but I'm not the ancient darkness you suspect. I am the unknown-- that which you fear-- and that fear is what gave me shape and form. I am the terror in your minds, the shadow that lurks in the forgotten recesses of your hearts.”
‘And that fear gave me shape and form.’ Those words didn’t sit right with him. “You were born from Baldr's heart?”
Xehanort’s heart plunged into his stomach as he shook his head. “From all of yours. Baldr was especially sensitive to the hearts of others, as are you, Xehanort. And few emotions are more potent than animosity. When Baldr felt the darkness within-- darkness born from your unwavering devotion to light-- it grew and grew until it became his own. And now, as light watched over us, as you face me, he can see what hides in the depths of your heart.”
I did this? Because of my emotions, I made Baldr this way… I killed him. I'm tainted. How long until I’m consumed by it as well? Eraqus… what would you think of me? “The darkness grew and became his own…”
Baldr smirked. “That's how all of us— true darkness included— have grown in strength and number over many years.” He stood unflinchingly as Xehanort brandished his Keyblade.
“None of that matters. This ends when I defeat you.” He’s messing with my head, trying to convert me to his side. I won't let him. For Vor, Urd, Hermod, Bragi, the upperclassmen. For Baldr.
“But you can't, which is what led to all this sacrifice in the first place!”
“That anger… hold on to it.”
For the first time in their encounter, Baldr was puzzled. “What?”
Suddenly, a light sparked on Xehanort’s chest. “Stay strong, Baldr.” A woman’s voice rang out, strangely familiar.
“Hoder… is that you?”
The light grew, glimmering with blinding brilliance before it took a humanoid shape. “Baldr, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you so much pain.” His sister stood in front of Xehanort, the edges shone with an ethereal glow.
The boy stepped forward with wide, disbelieving eyes. “No... It's not your fault. I'm the one who decided to chase after you, and that's why you—”
“Baldr, it's okay. I wouldn't have done it differently. Listen to me— I borrowed Xehanort's heart for this chance because I was worried about you. Because I wanted to tell you that the world isn't such a bad place.” A kind smile graced her lips.
“That's not it, Hoder. I was scared. Ever since I was little, I could sense what was in people's hearts…” Baldr paused, his eyes glazing over for a beat. “… But I believed I was safe with you because there was nothing but light. But the more darkness I felt, the deeper my heart sank into the abyss. It started to consume me, until one day, I realized the darkness I thought was theirs was in truth mine. I resigned myself to it because I thought that's just how it was. And then I met others like you... Hearts filled with nothing but light. I understood then that there were two kinds of people: people like you and Eraqus, and people like me. I knew I would be left behind. That's why I chased after you and your light.”
“Two kinds of people…” Xehanort muttered. Eraqus is my light... And I chase him. Is his light the reason I'm so afraid to lose him, or is it because of how much I care for him?
“You don't have to be afraid anymore.” She holds out her hand, inviting him to take it.
A tentative smile briefly curled his lips as he reached forward. “Okay.”
Xehanort watched in shock as their Keyblades appeared, colliding in a shower of sparks.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I knew you could never understand.” Fury brewed in his pale eyes, like a storm approaching an unsuspecting boat.
“Wait!” Xehanort took a step forward, but not before Hoder abandoned her weapon and reached out for her brother, her face contorted in anguish.
For a moment, his face crumpled, like he was considering taking her hand. Yet, darkness swarmed around his form, consuming him in an instant. “You and your weak heart.” He spat venomously as he dove forward, his blade inches from striking Hoder as a dark figure hovered over him. Xehanort could only watch in horror. However, she was saved by glowing chains encasing Baldr and his darkness. The writhing dome surrounding them dispersed, replaced by the blue sky and fluffy clouds.
“Master Odin!” Eraqus and Xehanort shouted in unison.
The elder in question had his Keyblade out, golden chains extending from the tip. “This is our only chance. Xehanort, rid him of the darkness!”
“Xehanort!” He glanced back at Eraqus’s shout, silver and hazel locking together. Relief, grief, and shock were reflected in their eyes. I'm sorry, Eraqus, but I have no choice.
He swiveled as the sound of metal against metal clanged across the roof. The siblings exchanged several blows before collapsing, their weapons vanishing. Like her Keyblade, she dispersed in a flash of light, and her heart floated away. Xehanort barely had time to register this before Baldr murmured. “Xehanort... Do you see now? There's them... and there's us. When we find the strength to pursue our goals, they condemn us, insisting that our strength comes from darkness. That the friends we've lost...were just stepping stones to pave our path. I see myself... in you... Seek answers... to the unjust ways of the world... to the darkness...”
Baldr slowly looked up at him, his silver brows narrowed in acceptance. The hilt slid in his sweaty grasp as several pairs of eyes bore into him, waiting. Demanding. It was still for a moment, the wind whistling through his hair.
The executioner’s weapon fell.
“Nooo!!” His eyes widened in panic, like he was just realizing that his end was nigh. The blade sliced through him and the chains and he exploded into orbs of light, cutting through the lingering darkness.
Xehanort watched his heart ascend, joining his sister’s. He barely heard Eraqus mutter his name. Master Odin dispelled his Keyblade, his tone mournful. “I finally see the truth of those words. Destiny can be so cruel…”
Just as he registered the violent tremors wracking his body, his knees gave out beneath him. Xehanort saw Eraqus kneel next to him in the corner of his eye, his worried questions tuned out by the buzzing in his ears. He mutely stared at his Keyblade, the blade that killed someone, took his life, his dreams away.
He felt nothing.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
Young Xehanort’s footfalls echoed loudly in the pale, long hallways, which as always, looked as if color was leeched out of the world. He was still panting from the flight of stairs he had almost tumbled down in his rush, and to his embarrassment, Saïx had been watching the whole time. Thankfully, he didn’t tease him, though the chrononaut’s cheeks still burned.
Yes, he could’ve simply teleported to the cell, but he decided to instead journey down the several floors. Maybe it was because he felt he deserved it. Or to walk off the lingering anger. Both?
All that matters is he’s doing something right. That brought a quick smile to his face.
It’s small, but it’s better to take baby steps before I bite off more than I can chew. Plus, if I don’t heal the boy, he’s going to get all whiny. He’s a brat enough as it is.
As quick as it appeared, Xehanort's grin fell just as swiftly as he entered the basement floor. The despair heavily weighed down the air, similar to a thick smoke suffocating his lungs. Almost like entering another world. Cells lined the wall, most of them pitch-black. However, the misery of the prison wasn’t the only thing lingering.
He smelt it before he saw it. Walking down the dungeon hall, the faint stench of blood grew stronger the farther the chrononaut hurried down.
Wasn’t it just some scrapes? Why is the smell so strong?
Yet, as he pulled up to the bars of Sora’s cell, he discovered that he was woefully underprepared. His limbs and back were marred with deep gashes, all bleeding sluggishly into the scarlet puddle beneath him. Beneath the bloodshed were dark blotches, varying in color. Blue, purple, red, black. You name it. He’s practically twining with a Dalmatian.
Who in Kingdom Hearts did this to him? Did the Master let this happen? Did he do it? No, he doesn’t need blades or fists. His words stab and bruise just as deeply. I would know. This seems like Larxene’s handiwork— she’s always been knife-happy.
“You alive in there? It would be a shame if not— we all quite enjoy your company.” Young Xehanort’s panic grew with each second of silence. He expected sass. Yelling. Something! Any other time, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. It was eerie, like he was replaced by a ghost.
With his back turned to him, he could barely tell he was breathing. He would have to go to the cell. The Corridor of Darkness wrapped him in a brief, icy embrace, before being spat out into the barred room. He gagged as the metallic fumes hit him in full force, ferociously attacking his nostrils.
Despite the churning of his stomach, Xehanort crouched beside him. “Sora? Can you hear me?” He gently cupped his shoulder, noticing the slight flinch in response. Pulling away, he waited for those ocean blue eyes to meet his, yet they continued their mindless gaze into the wall.
What did she do to him…? He has a concussion, so it’s possible she caused further head trauma. Whatever it is, what I have isn’t enough— he needs medical attention. Vexen’s lab has several potions in stock, or better yet, I’ll be able to convince him to diagnose Sora directly. Leaving him here isn’t an option.
He searched for the least injured patch of skin before settling on the small of his back, and the chrononaut slowly lifted him off the stained floor. It was disturbing how light he was— he was practically skin and bones.
They’re not regularly feeding him either?! What they’re doing to him isn’t punishment, it’s straight up torture… It’s needlessly cruel!
Xehanort hooked his arm beneath his scrawny legs in a firm grip as he summoned a Dark Corridor, ignoring the slight tint of red staining his vision. Now is not the time to be angry. “We’re going to the lab to examine your injuries. I’ll be watching, so don’t try anything.” He kept his voice as flat as possible— there are eyes and ears everywhere, hidden out of plain sight.
The familiar darkness of the corridor returned, writhing and twisting in every direction like snakes. Sora let out a small whimper as he squirmed in his grip, almost slipping out of his arms and straight onto the floor.
With how weak he is from his wounds, his heart must be much more vulnerable to darkness. If he stays here for even a couple of minutes, it would likely consume him. There’s nothing I can do but go through the castle and hope for the best, and a minuscule amount of, or better yet, no raised eyebrows.
They emerged in the dungeon hallway, which was thankfully empty. Sora shifted further into his chest, burrowing his face into his coat. With the way he was trembling, he didn’t have the heart to push him away.
They traversed the seemingly infinite hallways, every turn leading to what seemed like the same scenery as before, like an endless loop. Other than to the Organization, it seemed impossible to navigate, and any other person would be ultimately lost.
With his coat getting steadily bloodied, he finally bumped into someone. Luxord turned a corner, his pace casual compared to Xehanort’s haste, and wore a slight smile as he laid his gold eyes on the pair.
Nothing could ever go well for me. The only positive is that Luxord acts mostly normally, at least compared to our coworkers. Hopefully he doesn’t bat an eye…
“Ah, it seems Lady Luck brought us together again, Sora! Don’t worry, I’m not bitter toward your victory against me— after all, it was an enjoyable game.” The gambler spoke lightheartedly, almost chipper.
Sora, just like for Xehanort, remained silent, not budging from his position in his chest. “He’s been like this ever since the meeting.”
“Let me guess, you’re taking him to the lab? Vexen’s been quite sour for a bit now— something about his experiment getting mysteriously blown up in the middle of the night—, so now’s not the best time to bother him.”
“Don’t really have a choice when he’s bleeding out.” He replied impatiently, tapping his foot against the ground.
Luxord got the hint. “I see, then I wish you good fortune on your endeavor. Until next time, Sora.”
Xehanort waited until the footsteps faded around the corner before moving. “That could’ve been much worse…”
However, the encounter had thrown him on edge. Well, he already was before, but now he was on his tiptoes over the abyss. With each new hallway, he waited for his older self or Xemnas to pop out of nowhere, like one of those haunted Halloween house actors. Yet, he reached the door of the lab with no further problems other than his tiring arms. Sora may be lighter than an average teen, but it was still taxing to carry him for such a distance.
He peeled the boy off his coat before gently lowering him by the door. He stumbled blindly for the light switch, his hand climbing across the wall until it found the smooth panel.
The lights buzzed loudly in greeting, bathing the lab in a harsh glare. Beakers, vials, and graduated cylinders were filled with bubbling liquids, a few lightly smoking from the top. It seemed like a fire hazard to boil chemicals without supervision, but who was he, who had last worked with chemicals in middle school science labs, to say against the professional? The professional in question was nowhere to be seen. Picking up Sora, Xehanort weaved through the tables crowding the room. The back was occupied by several white hospital beds, onto which he deposited the boy onto the sheets.
Xehanort dug the potion out of his pocket, hesitantly searching for the most damaged part of his body. Settling on his leg, he carefully pulled back the wet fabric and exposed the deep laceration sluggishly bleeding. He peeked at Sora’s face, searching for a sign of pain, yet he was eerily non-reactive. He poured half of the potion on the stab wound, the flesh knitting back together in seconds. He then moved to his arm, examining the torn tissue. His stomach began to churn as beneath the bleeding mass, he could see a hint of white. Resisting the urge to gag, he fed the rest to the gaping hole and tossed the empty bottle into the trash can next to him. Now I know, without a doubt, I’ll never be a doctor. I can barely withhold my vomit at the sight and smell of this.
So Xehanort relied on the best doctor he knew— potions. He turned to the labeled cabinet, pulling it open to reveal the abundant selection of elixirs. Or, that’s what he thought he’d see, as the stash was cleared.
Worst. Coworkers. Ever.
He’d have no choice but to trek a couple of floors up to the shared collection available to all members, which most ignore the golden rule of ‘take what you need’.
But will Sora be okay?
Xehanort glanced at the boy, whose dull gaze remained planted on the ceiling. He was still out of it. Yeah, he’s not going anywhere in that state. “Sora, I’m going to grab more potions. I’ll be back soon, so don’t try anything.” He cast Curaga to placate him for the time.
As Xehanort exited the room, he didn’t think much of the lack of the click the locked door normally makes as it closed behind him.
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
From across the room, Sora’s lips split into a wide grin. He hopped off the white bed, twisting his head to see the ruler wedged between the door. In the few seconds Xehanort put him down, he grabbed whatever was closest to him and jammed it in the frame.
I can’t help but feel a little bad though. He healed me… that’s the most anyone’s done for me here, and I took advantage of that. I used him. Manipulated him. What is this place doing to me? I can’t say if I’m still the same person as before. No, I’m doing what I have to in order to survive. I can’t pity someone who would hurt me for fun, even if he turned a new leaf. He’s probably faking it anyway.
His determination returning, Sora poked his head out the door. Thankfully, the monochrome hall was deserted, as Xehanort’s footfalls had all but faded into the distance. Sora took the right side of the fork. The slashes across his body viciously protested against the movement, a sharp almost burn-like pain igniting through his bloodstream. The blood clots did nothing to stop the now flow. Like the story of Hansel and Gretel, he was leaving a trail of scarlet breadcrumbs for the Organization to follow. Hopefully, it would be someone he didn’t like (cough cough, Larxene, cough cough) scrubbing the floor.
When we were heading to the lab, I think I saw the courtyard where I fought Xigbar with Donald and Goofy, though we were walking too fast for a proper look. I think after that is a flight of stairs and an elevator, then I’ll be in the city.
His wounds faded into the background as the thought of freedom gave him a heaping dose of adrenaline. He wanted to feel the wind caress his face, to see light other than the fluorescent buzz in his cell, even if it was just the moon.
In his haste, he almost rushed past the double doors. Sora opened it a small crack with trembling fingers, anticipating the entire Organization to be standing on the other side. Yet, the only thing that greeted him was silence. He was starting to appreciate that sound, or lack thereof.
It was just as he remembered. Circling the grey platform was a moat of nothingness— It was an abyss, a gaping maw waiting for its next meal to plunge down its throat. He made sure to stay off the edges as he took the walkway. Above the arena was the balcony Xigbar sniped from, and across from it was where he reunited with Riku and Kairi.
Sora’s heart clenched. He’d give anything in the worlds to see them again. He wanted to apologize for worrying them, to sink into their embrace and never let go. But the Organization was a giant, brick wall in between them. One that he was currently climbing over.
I’m so close.
The boy slipped into the next room. With the cylinder shape, he must be inside one of the hollow turrets, therefore not at all near the ground floor. The only way was down. He trekked down the spiral staircase, taking two steps at a time. Metal pipes were scattered randomly in the tower, bathed in a ghostly glow from the moonlight filtered from the giant windows. Of course, they had to be shaped as the Nobody emblem. To his disappointment, the moogle setting up shop here on his last visit was gone. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if it was— somehow convince it to go to The Mysterious Tower? It has to have some way to traverse the paths if it pops up in every world he’s in. Maybe in a miniature Gummiship? He snorted.
The elevator in the next room took far too long to open up, leaving Sora awkwardly standing by it, tapping his foot against the ground. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the engineers’ heads when they designed this. Why do you have to take a set of stairs to get to an elevator? Why not have them lead to the same place?
The ride was short, silent except for the several cables designated around the platform.
It’s good they haven’t noticed I was gone yet, though I probably don’t have much time left before Xehanort sees the lab empty. But when they do, it’ll take a while to find me. It’s not like they can track me or anything…
Sora glanced down at his arm, his stomach churning as XIII gleamed brightly in scarlet ink. It was just a cut, but he didn’t want to take any chances. If they can track him with fabric, why would flesh be any different? He can cast Cure once he gets out of the castle.
He hopped out of the elevator before it even came to a complete stop, bounding down the grey hallway that followed. It kept going, the white at the end a speck in the distance. It wasn’t until his side was in stitches that he finally saw the outside world.
The sky was a mix of deep purples and blue, stretching endlessly in sight. It could’ve been a normal night sky, if not for the complete lack of stars and the hints of red leaking from dark clouds, like blood being swallowed up by the sea. The only light was the pale moon floating lifelessly above, unbothered by the chill plaguing the air.
To anyone else, it wouldn’t be on their top 10 places to vacation to, unless they’re a Nobody, but at that moment, it was beautiful. It was the outside, not restricted by a glass pane of a window or a set of metal bars. It was the pure breeze kissing his cheek, the natural glow lighting his path. No more fluorescent buzzing or monochrome halls. He was free.
Sora simply stood for several, sweet moments, bathing in the unfamiliarity around him.
He was still in awe when he began walking.
The sky was soon swallowed by looming buildings, packed together like sardines in a tin can, hushed despite the lit-up windows. What happened to the people who lived here? Are they the Heartless and Nobodies that plague the worlds, or did they never exist at all? A façade meant to be normal to outsiders.
Random alleys were crammed in between as an afterthought, clothed in robes of shadow. Shadows that could hide unwanted eyes.
He suddenly felt vulnerable in the wide, now uninviting streets.
Sora arrived at the largest tower of all, the TVs nested above shining neon vomit on the gravel streets.
I fought Xemnas here alone. That felt like ages ago.
He nervously peeked behind, anticipating someone pouncing from the darkness.
Until my friends come here, I can stake out in one of these buildings. Maybe I can find a pharmacy or a hospital nearby… Cure won’t close the wounds for long.
The boy was bathed in a green glow, the slashes on his arm vanishing as the skin knit back together. At least for now, until he can find a potion to permanently seal it. He continued his tense journey through the city, his wide, paranoid eyes darting to every crack and crevice. It was strange that even though he was wary, he completely missed the hand that slapped over his mouth.
Sora let out a muffled shout, his airflow cut off by both the leather glove pressing against his lips and the arm crushing his neck. Despite his blurry vision, he could see the buildings being swallowed up by the darkness of the alley. His assailant harshly whispered in his ear, almost frantically. “Sora, I’m going to aid your escape, but only if you stop struggling and be quiet. Nod if you understand.”
He slowly nodded after a long beat. That voice seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He gasped for air once he was freed, trying to muffle his deep coughs. Massaging his throat, he turned to his supposed savior. He definitely wasn’t suspecting him to be an Organization member, let alone one that acted like he was something nasty under his boot.
His gold eyes nervously glanced back and forth before speaking again. “We don’t have much time left— The Organization knows about your disappearance, and it won’t be long until search parties are sent out.”
His name surfaced in Sora’s memory when his sharp features were illuminated by the vivid glow. “Yeah right, you’re probably gonna take me in. What makes you think I’ll ever believe the likes of you, Vexen?” He spat the word like a curse.
The scientist sighed tiredly. “I can’t. I know I’ve done terrible things, and I work for people who have done even worse, but I can’t continue to sit idly by, knowing what the Organization is committing. It’s either you trust me, or you can bide your time until they find you. It won’t be pretty when they do.”
He shuddered as he remembered the source of his injuries. “… Fine.”
“I spoke with Yen Sid, and we both agreed the Organization would search far and wide to find you. And would do anything to get you back. So we unfortunately came to an understanding of where the best place would be.”
He spoke with Yen Sid?! Does that mean they’re looking for me? Is he telling the truth… that he really is an ally? “What do you mean by unfortunately…?”
Vexen slowly scanned the alley for any black-coated friends before his voice dropped to a whisper so quiet he had to strain his ears. “The last place the Organization would expect. The Realm of Darkness.”
—♡—♡—♡—♡—
The chrononaut sighed in relief as he reached the final hallway, hauling such a plentiful amount of potions that would make an average purse, phone, keys, and other possessions-carrying woman jealous. He pushed open the door with his hip. “I’m back. After a few of these, you’ll be—“
Xehanort’s heart plummeted as soon as the bed emerged in his vision. Where there should’ve been Sora was large scarlet stains shaped like a body, something straight out of a horror film. He stepped forward, freezing as a loud crack echoed through his ears.
Below him was a ruler jammed through the door, now roughly broken in half. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots.
I’m so screwed.
Notes:
I view Cure spells as a temporary fix, like something quick mid-battle, and potions and elixirs as a permanent cure, mainly to be used outside of battle because they take much longer to use instead of a swift spell. Just a little headcanon, though I try to limit how many leak into this fic so I can stay as close to canon as possible.
Also, I just got braces. I hate them already, and I miss popcorn.
stararise on Chapter 1 Thu 17 Apr 2025 03:53AM UTC
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thes0uperior on Chapter 1 Fri 18 Apr 2025 12:06AM UTC
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stararise on Chapter 2 Tue 22 Apr 2025 01:47AM UTC
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thes0uperior on Chapter 2 Fri 09 May 2025 11:23AM UTC
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RoxasTsuna_TMNT on Chapter 3 Fri 09 May 2025 01:48PM UTC
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stararise on Chapter 4 Sun 01 Jun 2025 07:47AM UTC
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stararise on Chapter 5 Wed 16 Jul 2025 06:33AM UTC
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stararise on Chapter 6 Wed 16 Jul 2025 06:49AM UTC
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