I'm sorry this one took a little (lot) longer to get out. Semester workload got a little heavier but I am committed to sticking to my schedule

Three figures, ensconced in shadows, slipped silently through desecrated streets. Brilliant blue sky morphed into a volatile meld of violet and orange. Cumulus formations, drifting steadily through the air, cast deep shadows across the low rises and lowlier streets. The waning day was bitter and cold, the world weighted by an encroaching sense of mystery. They approached the run-down apartments and entered an alleyway, halting at the broken gate that led to the backdoor staircase.

Somewhere bound, Sora thought wryly. He willed himself to keep his face straight. There was now, deep within the byzantine architecture of his cognitive capacities, the beginnings of an incipient coherence to all. He chanced a glance back at the two girls standing close behind. Determination, uncertainty, and a little bit of fear. He could work with that.

They climbed the steps and Sora halted outside of the apartment door. He motioned for the girls to stop and put his ear to the door. He listened to the muffled shuffling emanating from the room. He squinted, as if by some unfathomable inversion he could witness sound. He huffed and turned back to them.

"Be ready for anything," he warned. Yuffie nodded. Xion merely looked on. Sora knocked on the door. Three loud raps. The noises inside stopped and everyone held their breath.

"It's me," he called. "It's Sora."

"Sora?" he heard his name repeated back to him. The door opened and Tidus stuck his head out, looking from him to the girls behind him, his eyes widening at the sight of them. "What's going on?" he asked warily.

"It's alright," Sora said. "They're with us now."

"They are?" Tidus opened up his door and ushered them inside. There was no small talk, no chit-chat. They pulled chairs wherever they found them and huddled together in the center of the room.

"Nice place," Yuffie remarked, her eyes wandering across the pockmarked walls of the room.

"Thanks," Tidus muttered, his face retaining some semblance of bemused befuddlement.

"The Organization killed Axel," Sora asserted and he looked straight into Tidus's eyes, as if he could instill some truth in him simply by virtue of unwavering sight. Tidus furrowed his brow in confusion, head tilting to the side.

"What-?"

"The Organization killed him," Sora repeated. Tidus straightened in his seat. "We're sick of the murder."

"We don't want a part in it anymore," Xion said, her voice, reserved in volume, unable to conceal the anger roiling within her.

"Yeah," Yuffie affirmed, although her expression betrayed her affected certainty.

"Okay," Tidus said, releasing a short breath. He looked from Sora to the others and his confusion dissipated into neutrality. "Good. We thought we were on our own."

"Not anymore," Xion shook her head fiercely. Her eyes traced the contours of their gathering and they darkened dangerously. "We're taking our streets back."

Sora noted her conviction. He didn't know the specifics of her relationship with Axel, but sitting there in that moment he gathered that it had been something profound and special. He felt the acute beat of his heart and that damned scar burned across the length of his chest once again. He winced and covered it up with a cough. Evening light filtered into the room through the curtained windows and cast a winter glow over the proceedings.

"That's good," Tidus nodded. "That's really good."

"When did you become a turncoat?" Yuffie asked him half-seriously.

Tidus fixed his gaze on her. "Probably around the same time you did," he said.

"Forget about the when. What are we going to do about all this?" Xion demanded. Silence filled the room and they stared at each other. The headlights of a passing car illuminated the wall and patterns flickered and danced upon it.

"What can you tell us about their day-to-day operations?" Sora asked them. "You've all been in it longer than I have. The names of the people you work with, people we might know, where their product is stored, anything useful like that."

"Riku usually handled all that stuff," Tidus said, before adding, "I only know the routes they take to deliver the stuff to drop-off points."

Sora rubbed his chin. "We don't have a Riku," he murmured.

"He was their guy," Tidus slumped in his seat.

"I always got the stuff from Demyx," Sora said. "They're careful."

Xion pursed her lips and kept her eyes trained on the wooden floor. Deep in thought.

"I know a place," she perked up and the others turned to her. "Axel took me along a couple of times."

"What is it?" Sora pressed.

"It's a place in Red Hook. A storage place a couple blocks away from the warehouses. I wasn't there long, but I think that's what they use to offload shipments…so they don't have to risk getting it over the bridge," she looked at Sora, "they've got a bunch of people working there."

"Armed? How many guards?" he questioned.

"From what I saw, not many. Four or five at the most," Xion shrugged. "I guess they're pretty confident."

"Could you take us there?" Sora asked.

Xion drew in a breath. "I could," she said. "What do you want to do?"

Sora was quiet and he wrung his hands together. He looked at the luminescent curtains, the setting sun turning them almost neon in their orange hue. He felt the warmth hitting his face and his arms and he turned to the black-haired girl. "You know nobody can know that you're doing this," he said.

"Yeah…" Xion's eyes narrowed in confusion.

Sora studied her. "Are you willing to do what it takes to see this through?"

Xion drew back, the question unexpected. She stared at him and Yuffie looked at her with some emotion that still seemed so unfamiliar on that face to Sora. Nervousness.

"Yeah," Xion spoke at last. "I am."

"They started this thing," Sora said and now the gathered troupe understood he was speaking to all of them.

"They started it when they decided people had to go. So now they have to go."

The rest of them nodded; some reluctance, but the consensus was complete.

"Let's go scout the place," Sora said, "and then we'll decide what to do." They stood and filed out of the room, the two girls leading the charge out of the room. Sora moved to follow them out when he felt a hand grip his shoulder.

"That was some impressive showmanship," Tidus appraised, his voice restrained and hardly above a whisper. "Didn't know you had it in you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Sora left the room.

He dragged his feet on the long way back to the apartment. The stars twinkled in the night sky. He chanced a glance behind him. The streets were desolate. Cars hummed in the distance and a feline apparition scampered across the road. He entered the building and carried himself up the stairs. A heavy weight had fallen upon him, his shoulders slackened with an incorporeal burden hovering just beyond the reach of all sense and reason.

The apartment was dark and silent when he entered. Roxas asleep or out or God knows where, he shuddered at the cold damp air filtering in through unknown spaces. He sighed and entered his room, kicking off his shoes and laying himself down upon his cot, content to rest in the warmth of his day clothes.

He felt something shift next to him and he shot up, heart exploding in his chest.

"Hey, hey," a soft voice spoke through the darkness and he felt a hand palm his chest.

"Kairi?" he looked down at the black bulge slowly coming into form beside him.

"It's just me," she said, shifting herself up into a sitting position beside him. "I waited for you."

"I-I-"

"Shhh," she put a finger to his lips. "It's alright, Sora."

He took a shaky breath and sought to calm his haywire heart. "Sorry," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"You weren't in school today. I came looking for you."

"Oh," he said and looked guiltily at the walls. "I'm sorry."

"You keep apologizing," she noted and he chuckled.

"I know," he let out a breath. "I know."

They sat in silence for a minute and Sora fiddled with his fingers, unsure and uncertain in the glow of the moon. Kairi gripped his arm.

"What happened?" she asked. "Tidus told me that you…that he…"

Sora's expression fell at her words and his eyes darkened even more in the dim night. He struggled to capture some word, any word, to tend towards truth.

"He took care of it," he finally said through gritted teeth. Kairi absorbed this information.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Sora."

"I didn't do anything," he turned to her. "I kept watch, that's all."

"Why didn't you call me?"

Sora kept his mouth shut and looked away but she took his face in hands and turned him back to her.

"Hey."

"What do you want me to say?" he despaired.

"I want you to tell me the truth."

He closed his eyes and he felt her forehead press against his, he felt her warm breathing on his face and he thought she smelled of roses.

"The truth is that we're all in a lot of shit," he said and his eyes fluttered open, almost afraid to look into those twin violet vortices of hidden power. She held his gaze and nodded lightly.

"I know."

"Riku's dead."

"I know."

"They're coming for us next."

"I know."

"I wish you wouldn't come here like this," he said.

"Why?"

"You'll get hurt, you're already in danger."

"So are you."

"Is this what you want?"

"I think you'd better ask yourself that question."

He looked at her with half a smirk and gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head. "You're impossible," he said.

"I know," she smiled sweetly and tugged on his shoulder. "Lay down with me."

He settled down next to her and she pressed into his side, her head resting directly over his heart. He wrapped a tentative arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. They lay there in that dusty room and listened to the outside sounds of the Brooklyn night. A hound sounded off loudly and a truck stopped and started; meaningless mutterings listing through the confinement of particular place and the expanse of space.

"There's so much I want to tell you," she mumbled into his chest.

"So tell me," he said, eyes tracing the cracks in the ceiling, winding down and out the window towards the neon haze of dense night life. She said nothing and he waited patiently.

"When Riku and I lived on the Islands we had this one island that we used to play on," he felt her lips tugging up against his chest at the memory, "we would always go there after school, take our raft and sail out and pretend we were pirates or explorers or whatever."

She paused and for a moment the room was filled with the sound of their breathing. "He wanted to go deeper into the jungle one day and I was too scared to go with him. He called me a scaredy-cat and said that explorers are supposed to be brave. So he went and I walked around the beach instead and I found a cave, it was a big cave," she shifted her head like she was nodding, "and I wanted to draw. I guess that's when I found out I loved art. I took a sharp rock and I carved myself into the wall and then I felt like I needed to draw someone else," her voice hitched and Sora could hear the emotion welling in her throat.

"I knew I wanted to draw Riku but I was so angry at him I just couldn't and I –" he felt his shirt growing wet and as she lifted her head to look at him he saw the tears slipping down her cheeks.

"I couldn't do it," she cried and the tears flew faster, "I couldn't draw him and I didn't know why but I knew it had to be someone else."

"Who did it have to be?" Sora asked, his own voice strained by some inexplicable constriction.

"I don't know," she breathed and lay down again. "But I hated him then. I hated him. And I never want to feel that again."

He slept in fits and starts, the dreams weaving a kaleidoscopic blend of nebulous shapes and colors. Far off voices called out to him from far off places. He saw the dockyard and the storage house set against the lapping of the river current. Dull roar and gentle hum of that strange sea. Shapes ensconced and words exchanged. The van idling in the mouth of an alley. A creeping inevitability set against the backdrop of a descending sky. Hit them first. Hit them fast. He was speaking to them and they were listening. And so do kings rise and fall.

He awoke in a fevered state, the sweat glistening on his face and his matted mane stuck to his head. She was there to soothe him, to quell his racing lungs and wild heart, whispering gentle nonsense into his ear and stroking his face. He remembered his mother and felt the beginnings of a panic attack seize him.

"Oh God," he choked and stumbled up and out of the room, Kairi scrambling to keep close behind. He bolted into the bathroom and his hands slipped on the sink's handles. Kairi turned it for him and he slammed the water onto his face, over and over. Rinse and repeat. He felt the terror loosen its grip and his breathing eased. Kairi stood stunned beside him.

"I'm fine," he croaked. She merely gazed in confusion and sadness.

"I'm fine," he repeated.

The flames licked the walls of its den like the ocean breaking against the shore, heat radiating from behind its iron cage. The glow of the room dancing along the walls, senseless geometrical patterns roiling in states of flux.

"They didn't come," Vanitas says, fingers tapping anxiously on the arm of the couch in which he sat. No response. A quiet of terrifying power settles over the room. Vanitas chews his lip nervously and the shapeless form resting in the darkened corner of the room gives no quarter.

"I don't understand," Vanitas mutters and he rubs his hands along the length of the couch. The figure in the room shifted at his words and from it comes the Word.

"Why do you need to understand?"

Vanitas looks up, his throat running dry and his eyes shifting nervously from the light of the fire to the dark.

"There is no understanding," the man speaks and the orange glow of the room seems to dim. "Understanding is obtained through the deduction of necessary principles of which a demonstration can only come to be through the perception of universals through induction. You cannot perceive and understand."

Vanitas deflates and hides his face in his hands. "What am I supposed to do?"

A deep and deliberate laughter, almost a growl. "The hunt is on tonight. Regeneration through violence. Will to a remembrance of things past."

Vanitas sat with his hands folded neatly in his lap. The man grinned.

"They will remember soon."

When he awoke in the morning light of his room she was gone. Sora lifted himself wearily from his cot and shuffled into the bathroom, wiping away the remnants of shower steam on the mirror and staring into his own bleary eyes. Tiny liquid rivulets cut paths down the mirror and he watched them descend into the sink. He rubbed painfully at his stiffened neck.

"You awake?" Roxas called and Sora saw his reflection leaning against the door behind him.

"Yeah," Sora nodded. "Was - um - did you see –"

"Kairi? She left a little while ago. Said she didn't want to wake you."

"Oh," Sora's gaze dropped into the sink. "Okay."

Roxas stood there a while longer, unsure of what more to say but compelled to say something. "I got some bagels from Pete's. They're on the table."

"Alright."

"Okay," Roxas nodded, as if to assure himself that he'd done some public service and closed the door behind him. Sora stood alone, staring at his reflection, and then decided on a shower, pulling handles and relieving himself of his clothes. Stepping under the hot jet of water and letting the tendrils of steamy heat wrap themselves around him, Sora closed his eyes and slept on his feet. Time glided past and Sora paid no heed, falling deep into a weighty relaxation. He remained there, pressed against the shower wall with the water falling over his head, eyes closed and breathing eased until Roxas knocked on the door and told him he would be late.

He munched half-heartedly on his bagel and tossed what remained into the trash, stomach not queasy but strangely unsettled. Roxas had already slid his backpack on and was waiting at the door.

"You ready?" he looked expectantly at Sora.

"Yeah, you go on. Just give me a minute."

Roxas shot him a skeptical look. "Seriously?"

"What?"

"You're not planning on skipping again, are you?"

"No," Sora shook his head softly. "Just go ahead."

Roxas slowly backed out of the door, watching him all the way. "I'll know if you're not there," he warned.

"Yeah, yeah," Sora waved a hand at him. "Go ahead."

He was alone. He sat down at the kitchen table, his chin resting in his hands. The day passed and the hours ticked by and so did his phone. Soon it was time to go again. Sora stood and left the apartment, making sure to exit the building through the backdoor and went on through the back alleys and tiny fenced off gardens and concrete squares that passed for yards in the discarded and invisible ecosystems of Brooklyn.

The van was waiting for him, like he knew it would. The mind had prophesized its occurrence after all. He climbed aboard and no words were spoken amongst the four of them, silent in the weight that anchored them to a coming reality. The revelatory mechanical stallion that lifted them forward ground to a deliberate halt and together they watched, eyes unmoving, moored to the people moving in and out of the complex, their own black stallions, earthly and grimed with the knowledge of material consequence, drifting slowly along a stony path and waved through a gaping black hole by stonier ants.

"That's all they have protecting the place," said one horseman.

"They've got guns," said another.

"We'll be quick," Sora said. They dismounted and crept, the four of them, moving past the screened green fences and clambering over, one by one, until they had all pierced that unconscious barrier and came forth swallowed readily into the blood red light of the setting sun.

Two of them slid around the back of the facility and the others followed the wall forward until they were peering past the corner. Two little ants stood lost in a concrete wood, their gleaming rods of power gripped tightly in their hands.

Sora saw the other two and one horseman lifted a finger and together they swept forward like a plague and came upon the ants. Two quick snaps of the neck and all was still. They dragged the bodies around the bend and laid them to rest against the side of the facility. One horseman lifted the possession of an ant and examined it in his hand.

"You ever use one of these?"

"I'll learn."

They moved along the ground and the sun fired off a final demonstration of its declining power, scarlet shaping the darkening ground. The horsemen came to a side door, one tried the knob and another lifted knives from pockets. Locked.

"Stand back."

A flash of light and all hellfire opened up. They moved in fast, sweeping across the vast room of box crates and tabletop baggies, its occupants stunned and surprised. Pestilence had arrived and scoured the space; sharpened daggers of some unfathomable restitution felling the weary and speeding bluntness puncturing the soft sanctity of the human heart. Conquest that devoured all and left no recourse to exit or escape. The horsemen moved in tandem, baleful blackness enervating shallow spaces and depriving them of all life and leaving sallow husks in their malicious wake.

When it was over, when only the last man remained, surrounded by the ruined wreckage of tables and bodies, he propped himself onto his knees and pleaded to the deities stood before him.

"Alright, alright, please – just – take what you want. Munny? We have plenty of that."

The horseman named Tidus bent and took a fistful of shirt in his hand, pulling the balding man closer to him and pressed the barrel of a gun to his chin. The lackey's eyes pooled with tears and he stared up fearfully.

A pull of the trigger and he too was gone. They stood there in that smoking heap of disaster and looked around blankly at their handiwork. There so they remained and in an instant their empowerment was sucked out of them, leaving them to wonder dully whether and what had happened.

Sora pocketed the weapon he held and caught the others' eyes.

"We should go."

"Wait," Xion held up a hand and crossed the room. She lifted up one of the many crates scattered about the room and rifled through it.

"What is it?" Tidus asked.

She looked at them with a sort of self-satisfied smile and lifted a red stick from the box.

"Dynamite," she said.

Sora's mouth opened and closed. "What does the Organization want with dynamite?"

"I guess it's handy to keep around," Xion shrugged and lifted a few more sticks.

"Be careful with it," Sora warned. "They could be unstable."

"Alright, I know you're the expert on blowing things up, but I think we're good," she retorted and began to place them strategically around the room. She caught the others' half-amused-half-concerned looks and straightened. "We don't leave evidence. This is just a message."

The others nodded and positioned what remained around the room, stepping over the just departed denizens that had only minutes ago

(had it only been so long)

worked the room.

"Anyone got a lighter?" Xion requested and they stared blankly at one another. "Find one."

They felt their way through the pockets of their victims until Yuffie struck gold. She tossed the lighter to Xion and they moved towards the door from which they had arrived.

"One should do it," Xion muttered, tongue resting between her teeth in extraordinary concentration. "Get ready."

She flicked her thumb over the lighter and it refused to light. Again and again, the sounds of her efforts echoing over the dead until finally a flame arose out of nothingness and she positioned it at the tip of the wire. It fizzled and sparks shot from the tip of the wire and began traveling down its length. Xion stood back and rushed towards the exit, the others already beginning their climb over the fence.

They had returned to the van when they heard the first explosion go off, followed by another and then many all at once. The windows blew out and showered the streets in shimmering glass, tunneling infernos blasted out of concrete and wood and a pillar of black smoke coiled into the sky.

The horsemen departed and sirens took their place.

Sora entered his apartment and was immediately assailed by his brother.

"What the fuck, Sora?!"

He looked at Roxas tiredly, unsure of how or even if he should respond. He was dimly aware of the fact that his phone had been buzzing madly in his pocket the entire way home but he had not bothered to check it. Roxas stood seething and awaiting a response.

"Well?!"

"Sorry," Sora wanted to shrug but instead his shoulder slumped. He was too tired for this conversation. He made to move past Roxas but his brother grabbed his shoulder and forced him to halt.

"No. You're not walking away this time."

Sora turned his head and looked into his brother's eyes. "What do you want me to say?" he asked.

"Anything is better than nothing at this point," Roxas bit out and Sora could hear inimitable sound of true frustration reaching its boiling point. Sora ripped his shoulder away and collapsed onto the couch. He stared down at the floor.

"C'mon Sora, you don't go to school anymore, you stay out late every night, you don't talk, you just – you just…" Roxas trailed off, anger transforming into saddened resignation. Sora continued to stare at the floor.

"Is it – is it mom?" Sora's head snapped up to meet his gaze then and they stared at one another. "I mean…I know it's hard. It's hard for me too…but –"

"Is that all you can think about?" Sora finally spoke and Roxas' eyes widened in surprise. "Mom this, mom that. I don't care, alright?"

He seemed surprised at his own words and his mouth snapped shut. The two boys watched each other warily and finally Sora had had enough. He stood to depart and this time Roxas did not stop him. Sora stopped at the edge of the hall and stood with his back to his defeated brother.

"I'll tell you everything. I will. Just give me some time."

He closed himself off in his room before Roxas could respond.

Kairi sits in class and watches each group approach the teacher and display their project. She chews her lip worriedly and looks to Sora's seat. Empty.

"Okay…Ventus and Naminé?" their teacher calls and the two stand and approach. Naminé shoots her a sympathetic look and she winces.

"Good…good. Alright. Sora and Kairi?"

Kairi doesn't move.

"Sora and Kairi?"

Reluctantly, she pulls herself from her seat and approaches the desk shamefully. Her teacher gives her a pointed look.

"And where is your partner?"

"Well…" she wrings her hands nervously behind her back. "I'm not sure," she admits.

"I see," he nods. He writes something in his gradebook, Kairi stands on her toes to catch a glimpse. Two 0s.

Kairi returns to her seat and for the first time in many many years begins to chew on a nail.