It had to suck to be Mickey when he left to go fight the Heartless. Takes place a day or two before KH 1, I guess...?

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It was early in the morning when King Mickey rose.

It was still dark out, the eastern sky just barely beginning to lighten. Perfect. No one would be awake in the castle—no one to ask where he was going or when he'd be back or why he was doing this, because honestly Mickey didn't really know himself.

He smiled wistfully at his queen, who was fast asleep next to him. He gently reached out to caress her face, and his resolve almost weakened to the point where he just flopped back down next to her, because really he didn't know what he was doing and he was scared. But he steeled himself just as quickly and slipped out of the bed as quietly as he could.

He had hoped it would never happen, but it did—the darkness was spreading, the Heartless were multiplying, the walls separating all the worlds came crashing down. The little king knew he couldn't simply sit back in his kingdom; he had to find the source of all this darkness, had to aid as much as he could in what he knew would be a harrowing battle. He couldn't stay here anymore.

Now was the time to act.

He fumbled his way in the dark, but soon he found it—the loose floorboard. He pulled it up carefully, revealing the old battle clothes that he had hidden here a long time ago.

He put them on with haste, and then stood in front of the tall mirror hanging on the wall, peering at himself with something that he refused to call nervousness. Here he was, the King, back in his ancient dusty battle garments. It had been longer than he cared to remember since he last wore them, but they still fit like a glove, permanently worn in from the many battles fought in them. So many memories were sown into this armor...

But he shook the nostalgia away. It simply wasn't the time for things like that.

He threw one gloved hand out to the side to summon the Keyblade, almost fearing that it may not come to him like it used to.

But as always, the gold and silver key appeared in his hand, and for the first time Mickey smiled faintly. He looked like a warrior again. He could do this. He would do this.

He dismissed the blade and tiptoed to the dresser, and rifled through shirts and socks until he found it—the letter stamped with his signature seal, addressed to his Royal Court Mage. It would tell his dear friend Donald everything he needed to know—where to go, who to find. Hopefully the directions would serve Donald and Goofy well, leading them to the Keybearer who would be their salvation.

And then, of course, there was the hastily added last sentence: "Can you apologize to Minnie for me?"

Oh, Minnie. Sweet, fair Minnie. He knew he could never tell her where he was going—she would worry and fret and in the end, convince him to stay, and he just couldn't do it. It was one of the hardest things about this: leaving without a goodbye and having no idea of when he might next see her. Would it be a couple months? A couple years?

The King knew he wouldn't have to worry about her; she was a strong, wise, fair ruler, and all of their subjects adored her. If she ever needed help, they would undoubtedly come to her aid. And he knew she'd understand his sudden absence—the worlds were in danger; he had to leave. But that wouldn't stop her from worrying and him from missing her every minute he was away.

Mickey steeled himself. If everything went as smoothly as he hoped, he would be home soon. He could only pray.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. 4:55 a.m. Chip and Dale, the only ones who knew of his departure, would have his ship ready in five minutes. It was time.

The mouse called over Pluto, who rose sleepily from his bed on the floor to see what his master wanted.

"Can you deliver this to Donald for me?" Mickey whispered to his pet, and Pluto blinked before taking the envelope into his mouth. Mickey knew it would end up safely in Donald's hands; the dog always understood every word he said.

"Thanks pal," he smiled affectionately, rubbing the dog's scalp before rising to his feet.

Once he was sure he had everything he needed, Mickey crept back over to where his wife slept, and gave her a single chaste kiss on the cheek.

"I'll be home soon. I promise..."

He avoided the squeaky floorboard and let the door close with a quiet click behind him.

Soon Mickey stood proudly and confidently in the Gummi hangar, as ready as he would ever be. After some final arrangements, well-wishing, and heartfelt goodbyes with old Chip n' Dale, the King entered his ship. With one last wave, Mickey gave a thumbs-up and it was time for take-off.

As the sun rose on Disney Castle, Pluto cried softly for his master and Queen Minnie rolled over in bed to feel the sheets cold next to her.

"I promise..."