Kairi Estheim slept soundly—though, blissfully ignorant of the world around her.

Her petite body formed a soft outline on the velvety surface of her mattress and her tiny lips were graced with a content smile. Her long, red mane overflowed her light pink linen pillows.

Nothing mattered once she was blanketed in the warm embrace of slumber. Whenever desperate for an escape from reality, her bedroom served as her temporary getaway. She would hibernate there for hours, even days if given the chance. Unfortunately, the princess of Radiant Garden didn't always have such luxuries.

"Miss Estheim?" Her butler firmly knocked on the door, putting her sleep to an abrupt pause. "Your mother requests that you wake up for breakfast."

Her eyes shot open, tinged with anger, as a trail of morning wrinkles withered down her unsatisfied countenance. With an uninterested gaze, her eyes scanned her pink room, full of the most expensive accessories currency could offer. She kicked her legs out as her comforter spilled across the floor and rubbed the grogginess out of her eyes while dragging her feet towards the door in an elegant white nightgown.

The butler, his bald head polished like a waxed automobile, stood as straight as he could as if not to be impolite.

"Princess Kairi—"

"I heard you the first time."

Being the daughter of Queen Claire and King Hope Estheim, the burden of royalty was hers to bear. For as long as she could remember, sleep had always been cut short for mandatory breakfast. If only she could wake up at her own leisure.

"I'll be down in a moment. Tell Mother that I have no interest in attending the summer festivities."

"But Miss Kairi—"

WHAM! If the butler's reflexes weren't as sharp, his nose would have been broken. Nonetheless, her reaction was nothing out of the ordinary. Wordlessly, he made his way downstairs to inform the queen.

Kairi dove into her closet and presented a very stylish dress. Its seams and shaped pattern pieces were doused in turquoise and clashed in complimenting arrangements. How boring. She didn't remember a day in recent memory that passed by without being clad in anything but a dress and corset. All they did was squeeze such a slender waist for dear life.

Kairi held onto the hem of her dress as she strode down the spiral stairs. With a brief turn to the right, she entered the royal dining room; her mother and father waited at the table.

Surrounded by transparent walls, Kairi winced from the sharp ray of the sunlight; it was always a routinely obnoxious good morning salutation. A piping hot aroma of cooked fish wafted the air. A lovely, but familiar scent. So familiar, it immediately subdued her appetite.

Kairi sat at the table with a hollow expression.

"Good morning, Kairi," her mother, Claire Estheim, greeted. The dry welcome felt far from warm and leaned towards obligation.

Kairi idly stared at the silverware and leaned her head against her fist. "Whatever."

Claire took a deep breath. She had to restrain herself from striking some respect into her sixteen-year-old brat.

Maids and waiters shuffled out of the kitchen with dishes in hand, steam seeping from the bottom. They served the royal family breakfast and bowed before reentering the kitchen. Kairi didn't bat an eyelash. It was broiled fish, steamed rice, and miso soup.

"Father, really? This? For the fourth day in a row?"

Hope sighed. "Yes, Kairi. We've been over this. We have to wait until the servants return from Balamb Garden with this month's rations. Their king, a good friend of mine, has graciously offered some of their surplus perishables, so please be grateful for what you have."

The spoiled princess rolled her eyes. Scoffing, she picked up a fork and violently stabbed her lifeless fish. It felt like an insult that this interfered with her slumber.

"Well, I'm not hungry this morning."

Kairi pushed against the table, making the legs of her chair grind against the marble floor. She stood tall with her chest out, grabbing on the hem of her dress once again.

"You sit back down right this instant, young lady," Claire said sternly. "The servants worked very hard to prepare this meal for you and I will not have you disrespect their courtesy. I care not if you find it dissatisfying, but you will appreciate it."

Kairi almost wanted to laugh. "You think I care about those peasants and what their meager obligations? It's their job. I have no sympathy for unmotivated loafers who will be wholly forgotten when death does them part from their miserable lives. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Her pompous attitude was exuded in her strut as she marched up the stairs. Claire shot up from her seat ready to teach that urchin some manners, already rolling up her sleeves with clenched teeth. But before she could make a move, a gentle but firm grip around her forearm made her stop. She looked down to see her husband with a pleading look.

"Just let her go," Hope said. "We don't want to ruin another morning."

Claire fought off her reluctance to comply and ultimately sat back down. "That girl needs to learn proper etiquette."

"She won't listen."

"That's no excuse!" She slammed her fist on the table. "That's what's wrong with us, Hope. We are pushovers to her bad behavior. If we continue to tolerate it, she won't stop! She'll be totally beyond our control!"

Hope could emphasize. As much as he wanted to get his daughter in check, he also wanted to maintain peace in his household and avoid stimulating the tension already wavering.

Claire sighed as she placed a hand on his. "I'm sorry, honey. It's just—I'm getting so fed up with her, I don't even know what to do anymore."

"No, you're right. We keep allowing her to do whatever she wants because we don't have the heart to discipline her properly. And while I don't think control is the proper word here, I do think she lacks fundamental respect." He raked a hand through his silver hair. "Where did we go wrong, Claire?"

"Perhaps we spoiled her as a child? I'm not too sure. She was never like this when she was a little girl."

Hope chuckled as he rubbed the back of his head. "Maybe a king-sized bed when she was only six might have been a little too much."

"She was never like this when she was a child, though." She smiled in remembrance. "She was so adorable back then—the sweetest little angel you could ever imagine."

At that time, Hope and Claire would give little Kairi whatever she wanted with the snap of a finger. Spoiling a child to the point where they felt entitled to their desires could be quite consequential. Its good intentions may gradually nurture a selfish soul, no matter what its prior disposition may have been. But it begged the question as to which side of Kairi really showcased her true colors—the sweet angel from her youth or the entitled brat she became?

Hope nodded. "You know, she reminds me of you."

"What?" Claire asked, clearly offended. She wasn't sure if she should take that as an insult.

"You acted like that when you and I first met. You know, kinda."

When Hope first met Claire—who back then preferred the alias, Lightning—she had little tolerance for Hope and his supposed lush lifestyle as King of Radiant Garden. She was cold, anti-social, and refused to waste valuable time with people that served her no benefit. She did what she had to do in order to survive and to protect her sister. Everything else came secondary.

Of course, Lightning would save lives, but only when it felt necessary. She never truly cared for anyone else's well-being besides her own. Then she met Hope, who introduced her to the idea that perhaps the world didn't revolve around her as much as she thought. They became friends as Hope gave her a spot in Radiant Garden's militia to protect citizens from all that threatened the establishment.

Despite Lightning and her initial barriers, it wasn't long before feelings between the both of them developed.

Eventually, Hope turned Claire into a much more approachable woman and she became respected by the residents of Radiant Garden as a worthy queen who deserved her spot. She took the praise humbly.

Hope was proud of himself, being able to turn such a bitter woman into a well-respected and admired human being who always thought of ways to make the world a better place. Though, it wasn't all him. He acknowledged that that side of her was in there all along. It just needed some help getting out.

If he could do that, then their daughter, Kairi—shouldn't have been this much of a hassle. But despite all of the endless lectures to her about respect and humility, it routinely fell on deaf ears and they'd be right back to square one about a week or two later. Maybe Kairi just wasn't mature enough to handle royalty, as if that weren't obvious enough. Sometimes he flirted with the idea of just tossing her out into the streets. Temporarily, of course. It would only serve to teach her a lesson or two about how the world works outside of these royal gates.

Despite the temptation, she would be recognized, and most likely be targeted by the masses; either for money or to fawn over her like deranged, perverted pedophiles. She was a very beautiful girl, after all.

But alas, no matter how many times it seemed like Kairi learned a life lesson, she always considered lower-class society as filthy peasants in much need of a currency upgrade to be allowed the privilege of her presence. She probably even thought her own parents weren't worth her time. With the way she just considerately brushed off breakfast, it would not have been much of a surprise.

Claire summoned a servant with a clap. "Yes, Mrs. Estheim?" he asked upon arrival.

"Fetch Flame for me, please."

"Yes. Right away, ma'am."

Flame was the pet tigress of the family. Soon, the well-trained animal came walking in on all fours with her fur groomed to exquisitely. She and her master, Lightning, were always particularly close.

"I have a special surprise for you, Flame." Claire took a hold of her daughter's untouched dish and set it down before her pet. Flame immediately dug in but looked up as Claire knelt down, grabbing her by the face and gave her a kiss with her nose. "There's a nice meal for you, girl. Isn't that right? A nice meal for the most beautiful tigress in the world! Who's a good girl? Yes, you are."

Hope smirked. "She's not a dog, you know."

"Pipe down and let me enjoy my moment."

He chuckled, directing his attention to the window and watched the sun blazing in the distance. What was he was going to do about that girl? Somebody had to knock some sense into her, and obviously he and his wife weren't fit for the task.

But who could possibly do that?

"Get back here, you thief!" the captain of the guards shouted.

His bare feet scurried away from the bloodthirsty guards on his trail. He was a boy no older than sixteen sheathed in a sleeveless brown shirt and some baggy pants folded just below his knee. The crown pendent bounced against his collarbone as he rushed down the busy Radiant Garden roads. The guards chased after him their swords waving. He looked down at the watermelon hooked in his pit.

While inattentive, he bumped into a man pushing a cart whose back was hard and bulky. He turned around, blocking the young boy's view of the sun. "Hey, watch it you—" he wandered his eyes down below. "Oh. It's you, Sora."

"Cid, you gotta help me!"

Sora pointed back to the guards pushing through a crowd of bystanders.

"Again, Sora?" He sighed. "Get in."

"Alright! That's why you're my main man, Cid!"

"Yeah, yeah…"

Cid was an engineer. He was usually sent to deliver certain equipment from his company's factory all the way to the actual facility. Sora slipped inside the cart, which was covered by a sheet. The captain grappled Cid by the shoulder. "Cid!" he yelled, his large, gruff beard coming into his personal space. His rotund belly shoved Cid to the side slightly. "Have you seen the kid? And don't lie to me, now!" The captain scratched his double chin.

"I think he went around the corner, Captain Pete. You'd best hurry if you wanna catch 'im."

Pete caught the attention of his men with a whistle. "Around the corner, boys! Move! Move! Move! I'm gonna catch that little pipsqueak if my life depends on it! Do ya hear?! If my life depends on it!"

Pete's desire to catch Sora had been recurring for a few years, but no matter what he did or how much he outnumbered him, Sora was always able to outsmart the large captain, and it drove him mad. The guards hustled their way around the corner. As soon as they were out of earshot, Sora sprung from the cart with a triumphant smirk.

"Thanks Cid, you're a lifesaver." He was being literal. If he ever got caught by that captain, he'd probably get beheaded.

"No prob, kid. But damn, can't you go one day without gettin' into trouble?"

Sora shrugged. "A wise man once said gotta eat to live, gotta steal to eat."

"But—"

"Tell you all about it when I got the time!"

With a brief salute, Sora scurried away before Cid could waste any more of his time. He had to make it back to the safe zone. He decided it would be best to take the shortcut, the perfect detour. He slipped into a familiar alleyway, hopping over obstacles and sliding across conveniently closed dumpsters. Before long, the speedy boy finally reached an abandoned library that was four stories high. It was against the law to enter any vacated property, but he didn't have anywhere else to go.

Sora climbed the ladder until he reached the second floor. He leaped onto the balcony and took a deep breath. Every day, he had to risk his life just to put food on the table. It was a tiring routine, and if it were up to him, he would've just cut ties with the misery of trial and error by giving in to eternal sleep. But there was one thing, or person, rather, that kept him fighting each and every day.

He heard a knock from the window behind him. He turned around to see a pouty, but cute expression on raven-haired girl. A smile of relief took him over.

"Open the window," he requested.

She did as told and helped pull the troublemaker inside. Aisles of books on the right side of a flat, wooden table came into view. The various candles spread throughout offered dim lighting.

"What's wrong, Xion?"

"Oh, I dunno. It might be the fact that I woke up yet again to see that my big brother wasn't there for what has to be the ba-zillionth time in a row. You had me worried!" She punched him on the shoulder.

"Ow!" Sora rubbed the tender spot. "Well, that's a fine good morning greeting. It's nice to see you too."

"Aw, cut it out. You know I hate it when you go running off into the streets without telling me."

He rolled his eyes. "But on the bright side," he presented the watermelon, "breakfast!"

Xion didn't look very amused.

"Okay... I thought this was the part where you're supposed to tell me I'm the best big brother ever and give me a hug as a sign of appreciation for making sure we could eat this morning."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, you thought wrong, you jerk." She gently took a hold of the watermelon, placing it on a nearby table.

Sora chuckled as he rested his hands behind his head. "You sure do know how to make a brother feel warm and fuzzy inside."

She shook her head with a grin of her own. "I'm serious, Sora. I like having food on the table, but I don't want to lose my brother over it. You could at least give me a heads up every once in a while."

The library had been deserted for six years. Sora and Xion broke into it three years before without another home to go to. It was surprisingly a cozy little spot to live in. The only thing was that the eerie and lifeless atmosphere added a certain involuntary depression from time to time. The aisles of books aided Xion in developing a love for reading, but the environment itself lacked substance.

They were still able to keep the place fairly tidy. Sora went over to one of the aisles and dotted the tip of his finger across the various novels, his eyes set for a particular red book.

"Don't worry about it, Xi. I've got it under control. Pete's not smart enough to tie his own shoes. He's never gotten the best of me."

Xion sat at the table as she let out a breath. "That's not the point. You're acting like it's impossible. I don't want to see you go out that window and then never come back, either because you'll be imprisoned for life—or dead."

"Look," he said a tad sternly, "we need to eat, okay? And since Mom and Dad aren't around anymore, I've got to step up for the both of us."

Xion loved her big brother very much, but his stubborn nature grew more tedious as the years went by. Sora came across the book he was looking for. He set it on the table and opened to the appropriate page. It was used to hold silverware. Inside, there were knives, forks, and spoons with the pages ripped into the appropriate shapes to hold them. Sora pulled out a particularly jagged knife. It could melt through the back of any man like butter. It came in handy whenever Sora came into trouble with people who figured he was the kid to pick a fight with. Not that he ever killed anybody.

Sora used it to split the fruit in half. He smiled proudly at the juicy watermelon and handed one half to his sister.

"One for you," he took the other half and sat down across from her, "...and one for me."

He opened his mouth wide as he seared his teeth into the succulent delight; he mashed his teeth with big puffy cheeks. His eyes opened to find his sister's expression still disapproving.

"You're not eating," he said with a mouthful.

She crossed her arms.

He gulped it down and sighed. The last thing he wanted was a lecture from his little sister. "What is it, dear?" he asked tiredly.

"Um, eww. Can you not?"

"Well, you're acting like my naggy wife here, so I might as well treat you like it."

"Stop changing the subject! We're not about to just brush this off to the side, Mister. I'm tired of you not letting me know when you're gone." She pretended to look sad. "You really must not care about your little sister…"

The guilt trip. He hated the guilt trip. It didn't matter that he knew those were crocodile tears, she was still able to look so adorably pathetic that she seemed to always successfully make a sucker out of him.

"No, no! Don't cry! I do care about you, it's just—" his eyes slowly averted to the floor, "you know…"

"You're worried that I'll try to stop you?" He didn't respond. "Look, Sora, I'm just as capable of handling myself in tough situations as well as you are. I'm not five anymore, you know."

"I know," he beamed at her. "You're strong, Xion. I'm proud of you." She returned the smile, just as his faded away. "It's just that I don't want to lose you." He clenched his fist and held it close to his chest. "If something happened to you… I don't know what I'd do…"

She slouched. "Come on, don't turn this into another mushy moment."

He smirked. "I think you need a little mush in your life." He stretched his hand over the table in an attempt to ruffle her hair, but she smacked it away.

"Buzz off."

He laughed.

"Seriously," Xion continued. "Next time, let me go with you when you plan on getting us something to eat. I promise I won't get in the way, and I can show you what I'm truly made of!" She flexed her nonexistent muscles. "Bang! See? Look at these guns!"

"Maybe you should come along." Her face brightened. "Those flabby arms could use the workout." And her face dimmed again. "It's really dangerous, Xion."

"Come on…" she whined.

He scratched the back of his messy hair. "I don't know…"

"Please…?"

"You're asking a lot from me."

"I'll do the laundry for the next month if you let me tag along just one time!"

Now that was an offer he could think about. "Fine, I'll think about it."

She perked back up. "Good enough for me!" She happily dug into the watermelon.

Sora cherished these moments. Throughout the fleeing, ducking, and diving to ensure he could live another day, it was worth the hassle when he could come home to such a wonderful sister like her.

"HEY!" Her voice snapped him back into reality. "Quit looking at the ceiling like an idiot. I hate when you zone out." She raised an eyebrow. "What're you smiling for?"

"I've thought about your proposition."

She looked at him skeptically. "Well, that was quick. Go on."

"And I don't want anything to happen to you." She was about to say something, but he beat her to the punch. "But—I also realize that it's wrong for me to make you worry like that, and I need to start trusting you more, so…"

Her eyes widened with excitement. "So, I can go?"

He knew he was going to regret this, but he nodded.

"EEEEEEEPPP!" She stood up, prancing about like a fool. Sora let out a laugh. She was definitely worth all of the trouble. "I get to go into the ci-ty! I get to go into the ci-ty! I get to go into the ci-ty," she sung crudely.

"Don't get your hopes up," he reminded. "It's really not as exciting as you might think it is. There's a lot that goes into scrapping for food. I'd call it an art."

"Oh please, you're just trying to scare me and make yourself sound more awesome. It can't be that hard, can it? Trust me, it'll be fine."

Xion was just glad to get out of this dingy old library. She wasn't exactly skilled enough to call herself independent, but she didn't want to have to completely rely on somebody either, especially her brother who she worried about every day.

"Well, I'm glad one of us is excited…"

Xion settled back down. "Cheer up! It's gonna be fun! Just you and me, having some brother-sister bonding time!"

"What do you think this is? A trip to the movies? No, we're risking our lives to fill our stomachs. It's for the sake of our survival."

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a drama queen."

"Fine. But don't act all surprised if somebody ends up getting hurt."

"Don't worry! Nobody's gonna get hurt, okay?"

He used his fingers to lightly pinch the bridge of his nose. "I don't get it. How can you be so sure?"

She got up from her seat and bunked into his, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to comfortingly. "Because I believe in you. I know that you'll step up your game when it counts most, and I know you won't let anything happen to me. You've protected me all my life and I love you for that. But now, this little birdie's got wings and she wants to soar! I'm fifteen now, I can handle it."

Well, he couldn't fault her for that. His adventurous little sister could always put a smile on his face.

Xion stood from the chair and stretched. "Welp, I'm gonna go wash up."

Since they had no water, the two had to go down to the town's fountain court and cleanse themselves.

"Hey, I wanted to go first," Sora argued.

"Too bad," she responded, dashing off without warning. "I'm going first!"

Sora staggered out of his chair as he ran after her. "Hey, no fair! You cheater!"

His silver locks stretched all the way to his mid-back. It bounced lightly as he made his way into the town prison, cast off a few miles from the town walls. Some of the town's most heinous inmates served ridiculous yet necessary amounts of years in this penitentiary of little to no freedom. The R.G.P.D, Radiant Garden Police Department, had caught every potential threat, or certified threat, that could ever harm their relatively peaceful established order.

The woman at the front desk was busy clipping her fingernails. She didn't notice him until the last second.

"May I help you?"

"I'm here to speak to Xehanort."

"And who's requesting?"

"Xemnas Jaaku—grandson."

The woman performed a few keystrokes on the computer to locate file.

"Room 2001."

"Thank you."

Xemnas entered the elevator down the hall and went to the next floor above.

Water droplets from the faucet pattered against the sink, the silence of the room only making it louder. It was as if it were a metaphor for his time ticking away and his inevitable death would soon be upon him.

The old man sat on his bed in his lonesome, emptiness in his eyes. They had thick bags dragging them, and his cheeks looked as if they were slowly trickling down his face. His posture was hunched and he looked like he lacked emotion. Depressed was an understatement at this point.

The day of his defeat kept playing over and over again in his mind. How could he put on such a pathetic performance? He could think of innumerable ways he could have done things differently, a million different scenarios with higher rated chances of success, but it didn't matter. None of these scenarios were reality. No matter how many times he thought about his defeat in a more positive light with the what-ifs, they were never going to come true.

And there wasn't a thing he could do about it.

Contemplating suicide seemed so silly before, but now he understood. After being locked up in prison for sixteen years, the thought of depriving himself from the rest of the world didn't seem so far fetched. What purpose did he serve? The only thing he had left to do was rot like the wrinkly old bastard that he was. He was only sixty-eight-years old, but he looked eighty-four, and he felt like it too.

His wrists were bound by very special cuffs that hindered him from summoning his Keyblade. He truly had no reason to live. Would there ever be a day for redemption? He needed a sign.

An officer banged on the bars with his stick, alerting the old man to slowly graze his head towards him.

"Xehanort, somebody's here to see you."

The officer opened the gate and helped the old, crumbling Master into the next room. Between the wall that barricaded the prisoners from the visitors, Xehanort sat down at the booth where he saw his twenty-five-year old grandson sitting on the other side with a telephone in hand.

The officer handed him the phone, seeing as to how he couldn't grab it himself with his own cuffed wrists. Master Xehanort squinted at Xemnas, his eyes suspicious.

"What are you doin' here, boy?"

"Nice to see you, too. I'm here to break you out, old man."

Master Xehanort looked at the officer that was holding the phone to his ear. He seemed inattentive, so he must not have heard what his grandson just said. He used his hands to snatch the phone away, albeit he struggled with his arthritis-filled fingers, he quivered while trying to get a hold of it.

"I got it," he said coldly.

The cop seemed to take no offense as he went to do whatever else. Master Xehanort turned his attention back to Xemnas.

"Okay…" Master Xehanort said, "why?"

"Look at you, you're pathetic in this confinement. I'm tired of the people around town smoldering your name for what you did all those years ago. They fail to recognize your brilliance and you don't deserve it."

Master Xehanort laughed. "I'm starting to believe I deserve everything I've gotten in this hellhole."

Xemnas shook his head. "Don't say that."

"But it's true. I may not be a saint, but I'm no fool either. I know that I'm a bad apple waiting to rot into permanent sleep. There's no need to sugarcoat the inevitable. Destiny is never left to chance and this is where fate has led me. I deserve this."

Xemnas looked disheartened. "So after all of the trouble I've gone through to find you and hatch a plan to bring you out of this place, you're just going to brush me off?"

Master Xehanort snickered. "I said that I deserve it—but tolerating it is a whole 'nother story, my boy."

Xemnas smirked. "You scared me for a second there."

"But what's with the sudden change of heart?"

Xemnas stared at the floor. "It's high time to make a difference. The Jaaku name has been disrespected for far too long and it's time we reclaim its glory. How could I ever do that without you?"

"Why do I get the feeling that you're just saying that to butter me up?"

"I'm telling you the truth." He looked around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping. "Listen... have you heard of the X-blade?"

Xehanort remained unconvinced. "I don't know what you're thinking, but tell me what you know."

AN: I hope you enjoyed it! Go into this with the knowledge that most characters are gonna be OOC for a while, but the purpose is to try and develop the characters into their true personalities as the story progresses.

Hope you stick around!