I've no idea if this idea has been done before; if it has, I'm sorry for anything that might appear similar to the other fic. As it is, I'm operating under the idea that it has _not_ been written before, and, as such, is a completely new and original idea.
I tried to go with as close to the script for Riku and Sora's words during the End of Destiny Islands, but I've likely got parts wrong. Even though I started (another) new game yesterday, my memory is not perfect, so there are likely some discrepancies. That's okay, though. This is an AU, after all.
This fic is only archived at Fanfiction.net and Keyblades Crossed (check my profile, since FF.net doesn't want to show the bloody link) should it appear elsewhere without my permission, I shall be rather pissed off. Just because I'm apathic ninety percent of the time doesn't mean I don't have one bitch of a temper.
Kingdom Hearts is property of Disney Interactive and Squaresoft.
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Route Unknown
Chapter One
Li Xiang
--
He had only just gotten into his room, thinking over what had been said a few hours earlier as the sun set, sitting on the end of the dock with Kairi. Surely, Riku was not any different than he had ever been... Riku had always been a bit strange, and the silver haired fifteen year old was not known for keeping it a secret. He had always been a bit of a loner, only ever allowing Sora, and then, later, Kairi into his friendship. It was still somewhat disturbing that the long-time friendship he had held with the older teen had become a rivalry of sorts over Kairi...
His thoughts shattered as the wind outside his window slammed his shutters shut with unprecedented force. Sure, there had been some pretty wicked storms during his fourteen years of life, but Sora had always been down in the underground bunkers when the occasional hurricane hit, and outside of those fierce ocean storms, he'd never seen the wind get to this magnitude. Gingerly, he reached up to latch his shutters shut, to keep them from banging about, when his had froze.
The raft!
Without thought, he tugged his jacket, gloves and boots back on, slamming the window open and plunging off the second story windowsill. It wasn't the first time he'd done as such, and he'd fallen from the higher cliff faces of the obstacle course before, so he wasn't even bruised. Yellow boots slammed down hard on the wooden planks that made up the 'roads' between each of the houses on the island. He found himself in his little skiff, pushing off from the dock and speeding through the water in little time; he had to tie up the raft so that all their hard work didn't get washed away in the storm.
It was with a start, as he looped a rope around the poles at the other dock, that he realized that both Kairi and Riku's boats were also tied to the dock. A quick look about revealed that he could vaguely see Riku on the small island where they normally duke it out, stick-to-stick. It was to dangerous to splash through the waters to the ladder that dropped into the ocean, so he made a running jump, latching onto the roof-top of the seaside shack and pulling himself up. Another jump had him on the bridge, racing towards his friend. It was certainly much faster than actually going through the shack.
He skid to a stop a bare two feet from his long time friend, "Riku!"
"Sora..."
He ignored the whimsical tone in his friend's voice, instead letting his gaze roam the small island, "Riku! Where's Kairi?! I thought she was with you!"
"The door has opened," the older boy mused, turning his attention from the sky to the wild-haired youth at his side.
"What are you talking about? We've got to find Kairi!"
"She's coming with us," the faintly mocking smirk on Riku's face was ignored in favor of giving him an incredulous look. Sora opened his mouth to respond, but Riku beat him to it, "The door is open. Once we go through, we may not be able to come back. We may never see our parents again. There's no turning back. But this may be our only chance. We can't let fear stop us."
"R... Riku?"
"I'm not afraid of the darkness," Blue-green eyes turned away from him to stare up at the black and crimson orb hovering high over their heads, "Are you...?"
And he lifted his hand, holding it out to Sora in a manor that was eerily familiar... oh good gods... Sora's eyes widened with panic as he recognized the gesture from his daydreams two days earlier. Riku had done the exact same thing, just before they'd been swallowed by the ocean's waves.
However, this time it wasn't water that was drowning them, but darkness and shadows. The chattering of the strange black creatures back on the main island grew loud in his ears and the darkness reached up to envelope both himself and his best friend, "Ri-Riku!"
"I'm not afraid," repeated the older teenager, not even moving an inch as Sora reached up to grasp him palm. For an instant, Riku and Sora held hands, Sora accepting Riku's invitation. For an instant. Then fear welled up in Sora's chest, fear of the deep violet shadows that were formering about their feet, and Sora felt his grip fail; something seemingly slamming into his gut, staggering him. And he fell back, not unlike in his dream, and cried out in pain and shock, "Riku!"
"Sora!" It was the first true emotion Sora had heard since they began to speak, and blue eyes locked on blue-green. The brown haired fourteen year old was stunned by the fury that flooded his best friend's normally hodded gaze, before the purple shadows and the all-encompassing darkness swallowed them both, squirming and writhing shades of emptiness, invading lungs and stomach and heart and mind and soul, as Sora struggled desparately in vain to find his friend once more.
Then bright, golden white light flared in his periphial vision, and something cool, heavy, and solid landed in his open palm. The shadows about him screeched and howled in pain, withdrawing from their feast of clammy flesh, and leaving the teenager panting for breath on the ground, clutching at the heavy, oversized key that was his salvation. Blue eyes cleared, and although he felt safe, felt reassured, he could still feel those insidious shadows that had crept into his body, had found safety from his salvation's ruthless resistance of their viscious attack. They creeped and crawled and coiled around heart and soul, mind and body, chilling his fevered body to the bone.
As he lay, flat on his back, clutching at the giant key in his palm, he heard something whisper in his ear, "Keyblade..."
Still, worry for both Riku and Kairi was foremost in his mind, and thus the youth struggled to his feet, ignoring the voice; shoving it to the back of his mind to forget about. Using the key as a crutch, still weak from that which had attempted to envelop him, he stumbled his way away from the small island, determined to find his other friend, his crush, his love. Tired eyes caught upon an elegantly crafted door that rested atop the entrance to the so-called 'secret place'-- gods knew, everyone knew where it was-- that had never been there before. Confused and wary, he batted the black bug-like creatures away from him with his key, resolved to find out what was going on. Nothing was making any sense!
The door opened almost as soon as he was in front of it, and he had to momentarily bend down to crawl through the under-sized vine-covered entrance, straightening once a few feet in. Then he was moving, the key in his hand no longer needed as a crutch, his careful steps echoing strangely in the silence of the cave. While the doors would likely keep the wind from whistling into the cavern from that way, there was always the two window-like openings at the top of the cavern's roof. There should have been wind, should have been _sound_ coming through them, but he heard nothing. The silence was unnerving.
Then he was in the cavern, staring at the white cloth covered back of his other best friend, "Kairi!"
"...Sora..." her voice was lost and distant as she turned away from the brown and yellow oblong... thing... that had always been at the far end of the Secret Place.
"Kairi!" He moved to step forwards, but the brown and yellow _door_ burst open, wind ripping out and through it, accompanied by streaks of what looked like black lightning. The redheaded girl was blown towards him by the wind, and he opened his arms, attempting to grasp her and cushion her impact-- but she vanished only a split second before she would have hit him. Eyes wide with shock, he lost his own perilous balance, and the wind whisked him up. Pain pulsed through his back and sides as he hit rock after rock, tumbled as he was through the tunnel back to the surface. His cranium cracked solidly against the stone of the entrance, briefly causing his vision to swim, and then blacken. The wind raced out through the hole not unlike a vacuum, and took him with it.
He ended up rolling across sand, spitting it out once he got his bearings, shaking his head and trying desperately to ignore the pain in his every limb. Good bloody gods above and below did it hurt. His body had not been made to take that kind of punishment. His hands scrabbled for purchase, and he hauled himself up onto his knees, eyes widening and mouth drying as he realized he was only bare inches away from having fallen off the edge of the island.
Off the edge of what remained of the island.
Bounding to his feet, Sora's panicked gaze brushed over everything-- the island had been torn asunder somehow, some when. The cave he'd been in moments ago had vanished; the only signs that life had once been on this island were the scattered and broken remains of the seaside shack, the bridge, and the dock. Sand was everywhere.
A chill raced up his back, and he whirled, eyes landing on the beast of his nightmarish daydreams. His tongue felt thick in his throat, gritty and dirty in a way that it would have been, even without having minutes previously been eating sand. The dark creature that had grown from his own shadow in his dreams moved closer, and Sora dropped into a defensive stance, knowing in the pit of his stomach that without a weapon he'd never survive. He was practiced in swordsmanship, not in bare handed fighting techniques. He'd dropped the key when he'd been launched from the cavern, and had no idea where it could be. It had likely fallen off the edge of the floating landmass that had once been part of an ocean.
Sora backed off a few feet as the creature came closer, and he looked around nervously for a plank of wood he could weild as though a sword. He needed a weapon-- _any_ weapon!
Then, to his surprise, the key returned to his hand. He had dropped it, hadn't he? Back when the wind had howled from the door, and Kairi had flown towards him, he had dropped the key to catch her... how had he-- then there was no more time to think, as the creature's hand came barreling down towards him. Heart in his throat, the youth dodged to the left, swinging the key much as he would have swung his wooden sword at Tidus while the blonde haired youth was staring about confused, wondering where his opponent had vanished to. But this was no time for reminiscing. Sora would have leapt away, backing off and searching for safety, but for one thing.
The creature had not screamed or cried out-- but it's dark flesh had screeched like that shadows that had bond him and invaded his body had done when the key came to his hand. So the key could harm these creatures...? That was good to know. He swung the key again and again, handling it much like he would have his wooden sword-- although the silver metal key was much heavier than his toy sword-- crashing it into the creature's hand, again and again and again.
He had no hope that he would defeat this creature just by taking out one hand, like he had in his dreams, but it was the most easily available piece of the beast. Besides, taking out one hand would leave it less capable of harming him. Sora couldn't see, as the beast was absolutely oversized, that the reason why the hand he was attacking never looked damaged was because shadows were racing to it as protection, dissolving the shadow-formed mass bit by bit.
It was hectic, and terrifying, fear lodging in his throat as the beast stood to it's full height, leaving Sora without a target. The pain in his limbs was making him slow, and the long day he'd had prior to this night-- sparring with Tidus, Selphie and Wakka, racing Riku around the obstacle course, and finding the foodstuffs for the raft-- catching up with him. He stumbled a few steps as black-rimmed pink energy balls impacted around him. Then the beast was on his knees again, reaching out to smash the insolent bug that dared to attack it.
Sora reacted as fast as his lethargic body would allow him to, hacking fiercely at the hand that tried to pulverize him. This patterned continued, on and on and on, for several hours, Sora tired but fighting, and the beast losing cohesion at the larger size, reforming itself again and again, smaller and smaller each time.
Finally it was his size, and Sora, tiredly triumphant, bellowed a war-cry, key slamming into the creature's left side, the shadows screeching and pulling apart, only to shatter as the key split it's body in half. Face bloody and bruised, limbs heavy, breath coming harsh, Sora had no time to wonder what would happen next in this bizarre, nightmare-like time. The only thing he knew was that as he collapsed unconscious in the sand, there was a horrendous noise. It sounded... sounded like the landmass he was laying flat out on... was tearing itself to pieces.
---
Mickey Mouse, king of his own warped little world, watched the sky as one of the stars flickered out. He watched for a few minutes more, then shrugged. After all, it was a proven fact that stars died from time to time. This had been the first star he'd seen wink out in over a decade. Sighing, he pulled away from his windowsill, and returned to his bedroom, where his wife lay sleeping.
Tiredly, he settled himself down beside her, content in the knowledge that everything was right with reality.
---
"Kid? Hey, Kid, wake up!"
"Nnnh...?" Sora's eyes fluttered open, before he squeezed them tightly shut once more, skull protesting to even that slight movement. Good gods was he in pain. He was in such pain that he didn't even acknowledge being called 'Kid'; something he hated being called with a passion. His skull pulsated in an uneven beat of torment, and he decided keeping his eyes tightly closed was a lot more fun that trying to wake up with one bitching headache.
"Don't think I'm just going to let you lay hung over in this alley, Kid," the voice was annoyed, and the next thing Sora knew was that he'd been lifted into a pair of well sculpted arms, and was being carried away from where he'd been. He felt almost like he used to, back when his father had still been alive, and would cart him around the island as he had beens too small to get there on his own. Subconsciously, he snuggled closer to the source of heat, ignoring the exasperated sigh from the man hauling him about.
As it was, his pleasurable little trip was cut abruptly short as he was unceremoniously dropped into icy water. Sputtering, the islander shoved wet bangs out of his face to glare up into the amused blue-green eyes of the almost adult standing over him. For a moment, Sora could have sworn it was Riku, but then the facts came into his brain-- the hair was too short, and blonde for that matter. No, this man with the scar between his eyebrows was certainly not his fifteen year old best friend.
"Awake now?" queried the smirking man, and Sora scowled at him. Then he ignored him, instead popping his dislocated shoulder back into it's socket, and proceeding to take inventory of all his injuries. He had expected the blonde to take off once he was being ignored-- gods knew that Selphie and Tidus had never been ones to stick around if they were the ones being ignored-- but that was not the case. He found this out as he stripped off his wet jacket, hopping up onto the side of the canal, and unzipping the top of his battle-beaten jumper to check for anything overly serious. His ribs hurt like a bitch, and it wasn't just from being dropped by the blonde.
When a black gloved hand pressed firmly against the bruising over his ribs on the left side of his body, he jumped in surprise. The blonde was staring at the assortment of injuries that covered the fourteen year old, and cursed, "Shit. Sorry for dumping you like that, Kid. Didn't realize you were injured."
"Don't call me 'Kid'," Sora grumbled half-heartedly, more concerned with finding something to tap his ribs up with so they could heal, "My name is Sora."
"Seifer," the man introduced himself, "C'mon, let's get to my apartment, I'll be able to take a better look at those injuries of yours."
Sora looked up at him, ready to question his motives, when he suddenly found himself swept back up into Seifer's muscled arms again. It was rather fun being carted around like this, so he let the older teenager do so. This was approximately four seconds before he opened his mouth to question about the blonde's build. No mere laborer got muscles like that-- or had a blade scar between their eyes like the one Seifer had, "Do you do swordplay?"
"Where did that come from?" the blonde wondered, momentarily looking curiously down at the youth in his arms, "And no, I don't. I'm a gunblade specialist."
"Gun...blade?" he looked utterly confused, and Seifer had to chuckle, "What's a 'gunblade'?"
"It's kinda the combination of a sword and a gun," he explained, "I've only ever meet-- and seen-- one other who could actually use one properly. He's the reason I'm in Traverse Town, actually."
"Traverse Town?" he was sure he looked like an idiot, but he had to know, "is that where I am?"
"You didn't know?" the blonde tilted his head, "Ah well, considering that it's practically a nexus for people escaping their worlds, I suppose it's understandable."
"So... so I'm really on another world...?" Sora was stunned. This was what he and Riku and Kairi had been working towards for ages now. But... neither Kairi nor Riku were here to share it with him. His heart sunk, and the claws of darkness scrabbling for a hold within him leeched a little deeper, hardening said heart.
Seifer raised an eyebrow, stretching that sharp scar of his oddly, "You came here without knowing it was a world that wasn't your own?"
"I was kind of unconscious," Sora bit out uncomfortably; he was set down for a moment as Seifer fished his keys out of his pocket, and unlocked his door. The brown haired teenager moved to enter on his own, but Seifer picked him back up, and he was carried in to be placed on the dusty old couch in the room.
"Unconscious?" pondered the blonde, "it shouldn't be possible to leave your world if you're unconscious..."
"What if your world has been destroyed?" Seifer jerked to a halt in his search for medical supplies, turning confused eyes upon his guest.
"What do you mean... 'destroyed'? Did the people of your world turn it into a nuclear wasteland? Some maniacal dictator decide upon using Time Compression to control everything? Did a meteor crash-land, or something?"
Sora nodded slowly, "Or something. There was this huge storm, and then all these creepy shadowy creatures kept popping up and attacking me. Riku got swallowed by shadows, and Kairi vanished without a trace. Then our island was just a sand covered ruin, and this big black... thing... attacked me. I fought it-- that's where I got the injuries-- and managed to defeat it, but I collapsed. It sounded like the world was destroying itself, and I passed out. Then you dumped me in the water."
Seifer frowned, returning to his task of procuring supplies to bandage the youth with. He worked in silence for a few minutes, trying to puzzle out everything that had happened in the younger boy's world leading up to it's destruction. Whatever had happened, it sounded like it was possible for it to happen in other worlds, as well. That was not a good thing, in any way, shape, or form. Upon tightening the bandage around Sora's chest, and listening to the hiss of pain that signified that it was just tight enough, Seifer spoke again, "Could they come here...?"
"I don't know," Sora stared dully down at the man, "I don't know what's going on, what's happening. I don't know why I'm here, or where Riku and Kairi are, or even what I'm supposed to do now! What if Riku and Kairi are in trouble? What if those black things track me here, or worse yet, follow Riku or Kairi?"
"Calm down Kid," Seifer smirked at the scowl he got in return, "You can worry about that stuff when it comes to bite you in the ass. For now, you should rest and let your body heal; I'd buy you a potion to fix ya up, but I don't have enough cash to pay for anything aside from this apartment and food supplies. Sorry Kid."
"Do you have a problem with saying my name?" grumbled the youth, staring down at his bare and bandaged chest, his silver crown pendant appearing sharp and cold against the alabaster cloth. He could feel injuries on his thighs, and shakily stood to kick the rest of his jumper off, leaving him only in his white and black striped boxers. He grabbed the bandages, hiking his boxers up to bandage his upper thighs-- he was embarrassed to drop his boxers in front of this stranger. Not to say that he wasn't embarrassed to just be wearing his boxers, gloves and boots in front of a complete stranger; he was. He'd just die of embarrassment if he had to drop his boxers.
Noting his discomfort, Seifer headed off for his small apartment's even smaller kitchen, rattling the cupboards in an attempt to find something for the pair to eat. There was very little in them-- he would be paid on Monday, which was two days from then, and then he'd go and buy groceries, but for now, they'd have to deal with Instant Sapporo. It wasn't the greatest soup he'd ever tasted-- nothing would ever beat Matron's soups, in his mind-- but it was good enough to eat. "So who are these Riku and Kairi guys?" the blonde wanted to know, rather curious.
"Kairi's a girl," Sora called back, tightening the white cloth over a gash that was already scabbing over, testament to how much time he must had spent unconscious, "Riku's been my best friend since I was three or four. He's a year older than me, and is one hell of a swordsman. I don't think I've ever managed to beat him in our matches. Hell he beat Tidus, Selphie and Wakka when they triple-teamed him without batting an eye; or at least that's what Tidus told me. After Kairi came to our world, six or seven years ago, our friendship got kinda strained, since Kairi liked spending time with me, and Riku didn't like that. He kinda turned everything into a fight for Kairi's attention... I think he may have been jealous..."
"Or he could have been upset that Kairi was taking up all your time," Seifer returned, feeling an echo of the pain he always felt when thinking about the 'family' he'd given up back at Garden when he'd joined forces with their enemy. An echo of the pain of being ignored by the guy that had been his best friend when they grew up at the orphanage... "And used the rivalry to keep your attention on him."
"I never thought of it that way..." Sora looked down at his beaten jumper, "Hey, Seifer, do you think you have any clothing that might fit me?"
"You're about two feet shorter than I am," the gunblader chuckled a bit, spirits lifted by the mental image of the fourteen year old being swamped in his clothing, "so I don't think so."
"Damn..." Sora muttered, wondering what he was going to wear now. It wasn't like he had magically repairing clothing.
With an amused smirk, Seifer set the Sapporo down beside his guest, then meandered on towards his bedroom. He could wear one of Seifer's T-shirts almost like a dress, the nineteen year old was sure of that, but it was better than nothing. Besides, Sora hadn't lost any of the baby fat in his face yet, so he'd probably _look_ like a girl in a dress any ways. If they had to go out, the only problem would be Sora's own self-consciousness.
He shuffled through his drawers, hauling out one of his larger grey t-shirts, and a black and white vest not unlike the navy and grey one he was wearing at that moment. Although instead of a single tie directly though the center of the black and white vest, there were three clasps-- one at the throat, one in the center, and one two inches above the bottom. Seifer had liked it back when he bought it just before that whole 'incident' with the Sorceresses, but he'd long since gotten used to his navy and grey vest, and had only worn the black and white one once.
He also grabbed a couple belts and a leather belt pack for Sora to dump his junk in. It wasn't like the t-shirt had pockets. With a smirk, he left his room, heading back to where his guest was digging in to the meal, apparently starving. Sora shrugged with a bit of a grin, "I haven't eaten since breakfast; and it was several hours after dinner by the time I beat that thing."
"I'd be hungry too," mused the blonde, throwing the clothing at the youth, and ignoring the fact that it would take about three days before he got to the point of devouring piping hot soup, like Sora was. The joys of being a trained mercenary/assassin.
"No pants?"
"None of them would fit you."
He got an evil glare, "I am not looking like I'm wearing a dress."
"You're welcome to try and find any pants in my closet that will fit you," Seifer smirked, "Although I doubt it."
"... I hate you."
"Of course you do," the patronizing smile Seifer gave the boy caused the youth to carefully set what remained of his Sapporo soup on the coffee table, then promptly launch himself at the blonde, ignoring his wounds. The blonde laughed loudly, fending off the younger's attacks without even once hitting damaged flesh. If there was something Seifer was good at after all his years as a SeeD Cadet, it was knowing where another's injuries were. Where he had once used that knowledge to inflict the maximum amount of pain on his opponents, he used it here to keep Sora from getting even more hurt.
To Sora's frustration, it was a bare five minutes later when his body began to protest his activities. He was used to going at least ten, fifteen minutes, when Riku wasn't being an asshole and beat him black and blue. Grumpily, the islander returned to his seat on the couch, and his meal, slurping down the rest of it without even bothering to touch the spoon Seifer had presented it to him with.
After Seifer had cleaned out his own cup of Sapporo Instant Soup, and had thrown the garbage into a container, he returned his attention to his unusual guest, "You said that you fought the thing that destroyed your world?"
Sora nodded, one hand subconsciously going to his bandaged ribs. Seifer didn't even bother to note the movement; it was something he was rather familiar with after taking so many damned SeeD Field Exams. He'd seen far to many SeeDs and Cadets do something similar when thinking about the incident that had harmed them. The blonde's blue-green eyes bore into the side of Sora's skull, "You a bare hand fighter?" It was the only explanation-- the kid didn't have a weapon with him when he'd found him.
He just hoped that he wasn't dealing with another Zell Dincht. That wasn't exactly something he wanted to do. One Chickenwuss was annoying enough.
Sora shook his head, "Swordsman."
That raised an eyebrow, "You any good?"
"Riku's better," Sora admitted, although there was that hint of annoyance to his voice, the hint that Seifer could quite often remember tinting his own voice, back before he'd gotten more girth than his own rival, and was able to be better than the other simply because he was physically stronger and more muscular.
"You lost your sword when your world was destroyed, right?"
Instead of responding, Sora lifted his hands into the air, a look of concentration gracing his child-like features. His concentration paid off when, to Seifer's surprise, there was a flare of white-gold energy running between both white gloved hands, that amassed into a silver key. Seifer's eyes nearly popped out of his head at the appearance. He'd never seen anything like that before, not even in the employ of a Sorceress.
The key was solid steel, the apparently chromed to give it such a glinting, perfectly shiny look to it. The handle was worked in an old fashioned design, a beautiful web work of chromed steel shaped vaguely like a heart. At the end of each of the archaically designed vines of metal, glittered a piece of quartz crystal, and the former mercenary was positive that if the light hit it just the right way, the entire key would look as though it was made from rainbows. There was a keychain attached to the heart, as well, the keychain forming an elegantly crafted spider-web a single quartz crystal inset directly in the center of the web-- Seifer was positive it was stronger than it looked.
The opposite end of the key was the traditional form of an archaic skeleton key, meant to be used on anything and everything. The only difference between a skeleton key and this one was the sheer size of it. Sora held the Key with his hand on the metal bar that ran vertically directly through the center of the 'heart', each side of said heart acting as a hand guard, the heart's bottom as the cross guards to a sword. The chromed metal that formed the rest of the three and a half foot long key had a peculiar look to it, and Seifer smirked in appreciation. The key wasn't 'round' as it appeared, it was tear-drop shaped, the 'pointy' part of the tear drop being a razor-edged blade that continued on through the forks and prongs of the key's end. A truly formidable weapon, even if it did look rather silly.
"I used this," Sora's voice hauled the blonde back from his mental observations, "The creatures seem... afraid... of it for some reason. When I tried fighting them off before the first time I called it, I did no damage but as soon as I called this key to me..."
"It's a blade," Seifer mused, reaching out to roll the thing over so that the bladed edge sat straight up.
"Huh?" was Sora's intelligent answer, palm flat on what should have been the razor edge of the weapon. Seifer lifted a curious eyebrow, lightly brushing his fingers along the blade, after removing one of his black gloves. He raised his hands, showing Sora the thin, but bloody, lacerations left by the sword. Almost was positive that the slashes would sting like a bitch in the next few minutes, and was mentally berating himself for having done that. Not one of his more intelligent moves.
"It cut you!" gaped the stunned youth, "It didn't cut me... why...?"
"Maybe because you can 'call' it to yourself?" pondered the ex-Knight, "It might recognize only you as the person to wield it. Or maybe not; we don't know. All we know is that this... key-blade of yours hurts those shadow things."
"Key-blade..." Sora's eyes, closed in thought, suddenly snapped open, "That's what the voice called it! A Keyblade!"
"Voice?" a shiver worked it's way down Seifer's spine. The only voice he could ever remember hearing in his mind was the reason he was in Traverse Town in the first place.
"You must think I'm crazy," Sora muttered, unaware of Seifer's own thoughts, "But there was this voice... just after I summoned the Keyblade and got rid of the shadow-things, it said 'Keyblade'. Before that, I heard it in a dream. It was telling me all sorts of stuff, but I can only hazily remember anything it said," his forehead developed a frown as he directed his thoughts inwards, attempting to remember something, anything, that had been mentioned to him.
He need not have worried, because Seifer just shook his head, "S'all right, Kid. You can tell me more in the morning, alright? Right now, it's late, and the only thing I really want to do is sleep-- and quite frankly, you could use it. 'Night Kid."
"Don't call me that!"
---
A day later, and Sora was dressed in the embarrassing combination of grey t-shirt and black and white vest that made him look like a girl. A smirking Seifer padded along beside him as they moved through the second district, away from Seifer's lonely apartment and towards the first district where all the shops and restaurants were located. The only thing that had gotten the boy-who-looked-like-a-chick out of the apartment was the promise of first getting clothing.
It didn't keep him from being mortified that everyone thought he was Seifer's "cute little sister".
And of course, Almasy thought it was just damned funny, and would occasionally drape an arm over the teenager's shoulders, or ruffle his hair the same way an older brother would for a younger sister who was being shown around for the first time. Sora hated it.
"Why couldn't I have just worn my old clothing?" Sora grumbled, glaring evilly at the man who was currently making his life a living hell.
"Because they're in something like eighteen pieces after all the shit you went through," was the logical reply, "Besides, you agreed to this."
Sora scowled darkly at the ground, hands fiddling with the leather belt to which his wallet-chain-- and by proxy, his wallet-- was attached to. The ground was strange to him, having grown up in a land of wooden boardwalks, sand, rocks, and palm trees. The cool stone of the paved walks, the crunched together madness of this city, the lack of flora anywhere but in the first district, and of course the lack of any fauna made him distinctly uncomfortable. The clothing didn't help.
"Here we are!" Seifer announced cheerfully, stopping at a shop that stood just beside the great gates into the first district, "Your one-stop shop for all your clothing needs!" At Sora's confused look, he elaborated, "Commercial."
"What's a com-mer-shall?" Sora gave him a blank look.
Seifer gave him a completely stunned look, then shook his head, "Damn, you must have lived somewhere real boring."
"That was the reason Riku, Kairi and me were trying to go to other worlds," Sora explained, "We were bored on the island, and we wanted to go somewhere new, somewhere exciting... we got separated instead."
"Cheer up," Seifer gave the boy an annoyed look, "You'll find them, just don't wallow in self-pity and guilt. That doesn't get you anywhere." Shaking his head, the mercenary pushed open the shop's door, chuckling at the fact that the bells hanging over their head didn't jingle with the door open, but electronically activated a stupid little song that announced visitors.
The islander in Sora was in stunned awe. The shadows that hardened his heart were emotionless. So the only thing Sora outwardly showed was a somewhat muted curiosity at everything around him. So much clothing...
"Well, what are you waiting for?" wondered his guide and host, "find something you like, try it on, and we'll try to get it on credit." Seifer didn't have a hell of a lot of cash, after all was said and done. While Sora went about picking out clothing to try on, the older teenager went to haggle with the owner, Amos, who knew damned well that Seifer had almost no munny.
What Sora eventually settled on utterly confused Seifer. Where in the world did this kid get his sense of fashion? First a ruby jumper, a white and black short-sleeved jacket, yellow boots and white gloves, and now this? Black pants that were a baggy flare towards the bottom, the edge hovering just above his new black and neon green boots-- that is to say that the boot itself was black but the ties were the abnormally brilliant shade neon green seemed to turn when paired with the mix of all colors-- and a white leather strap around his upper-thigh, sitting only about an inch below where leg met pelvis.
His shirt was sleeveless and a deep ash grey, the stand-up collar a green to match his boots, the zipper that started just above his navel and done all the way up to his throat was decorated with three strips of matching green fabric. Beneath the sleeveless, he wore a red shirt that had black trim, and apparently buttoned up the front, considering the fact that the point the it came to in the front was split into two parts, the black going directly up the center. In the back, Seifer could see a matching point that dropped down to about mid-thigh. Sora had traded the white gloves with the circles on the back in for a pair of black leather fighting gloves, complete with chromed gauntlets of such an archaic fashion to match the Keyblade that was sitting on the couch back in Seifer's apartment.
His arms were bare of all decoration, and once could just barely see the chain of his crown-shaped pendant being hidden beneath his grey and green shirt. He tugged at the undershirt, trying to smooth out whatever wrinkles and bunches were beneath the zipped up sleeveless, looking somewhat nervous, "Well?"
"If that's what you want," Seifer sighed. This was going to cost him a pretty gil-- er, munny. He still wasn't used to this other currency. He had a huge pile of gil left over from the Sorceress War, and exchange was pretty good, but he didn't like to dip into his 'savings'. If he ever returned to his world, he'd like to have some cash to be able to spend on an apartment. Trudging back to the counter, he was rummaging around in the pockets of his black slacks, looking for some spare munny when it happened.
The shopkeeper gave a strangled cry, leaping backwards as a dark spot appeared on his counter, raising up and forming into a black, bug-shaped form.
Sora cursed surprisingly virulently, although Almasy should have expected him to be able to do it-- he was an islander, and they were practically all sailors-- before summoning the Keyblade into his hand. With a skill the former SeeD Cadet hadn't believed someone outside of Garden to be capable of, Sora leapt into the air towards the critter, key-shaped sword moving fluidly with him in a wild arcing attack. The thing had no idea what hit it, before it shattered into smaller shadows, vanishing into the floor.
Sora propped the Keyblade onto his shoulder, blue eyes dark and wary, searching out other enemies. Where one appeared, another followed. The stunned Shop keep gibbered something about Sora 'keeping the clothes as a thank you' before he ran off, presumably to hide; Sora's silent prediction bursting forth into reality as others started to appear, congregating on the injured islander.
A rather psychotic grin crossed the face of the white trench coat wearing mercenary standing beside his younger sort-of friend, and he reached behind him, beneath the jacket, to haul out his gunblade. Normally he didn't carry it with him just for merely shopping, but after what Sora had spoken of the night before, it was better to be safe than sorry. The weight of Hyperion in his hand had been sorely missed, and he gave a test swing to ensure that he hadn't lost any of his skill.
He hadn't.
Then the shadow-creatures were upon them, Sora diligently-- and silently-- cutting through them with only the occasional grunt of pain as he pulled sore muscles or bumped a bruise, or an exhilarated "yes!" crowed beneath his breath upon taking out a fair number of the beasts in a whirlwind of fierce attacks. Seifer, on the other hand, waded in, taunting the creatures and expertly wielding his dark blade in a dance of death; although he was careful not to unleash the power of his Limit Break, No Mercy, while within the shop.
It wouldn't do to destroy the shop's merchandise and end up paying for it. Although he'd likely end up paying for the window that Sora had just shattered by throwing one of the shadow beasts through it.
"Oops," the boy muttered, mostly unrepentant as he leapt through and tackled the beasts outside as the panicked midday shopping crowd screamed in terror, running rampant as they attempted to get away from the creatures. Seifer followed his companion's suit, leaping out through the broken window, and being treated to the singular sight of one of the creatures pouncing on a man, darkness extending to him.
Then the man's eyes rolled back into his head, a glowing orb of sparkling red, navy and violet, but mostly orange, being torn from the unconscious man's body. The light arched over to the small creature, while the man collapsed and the shadows apparently devoured him. But the worst part was when the light filled the shadow creature... it grew. And as it grew, it twisted, reforming, reshaping into an almost knight-like appearance, although the black orb-like face decorated by less than sane eyes and an equally insane grin on it's face. Seifer hit the ground, changing course all but instantly, heading towards this knight-version of the shadow beasts, Hyperion's dark blade singing for the once familiar feel of death upon it's edge.
Seifer did not disappoint, blade sinking home right between the wild eyes of the creature. It's brain-- or, at least, what likely passed for a brain in the cavern of it's skull-- pierced, it fell limp, sliding off the blade to vanish into shattered shadow shards once it hit the ground. Almasy didn't pause to marvel at this, instead whirling back into battle, fiercely attacking the creatures to prevent them from attack any one else.
Most everyone had vacated the second district, and those that remained were those that watched, terrified, from the windows high above the conflict, praying for a miracle to keep the two fighters gliding through attacks and destroying the shadows that had come for their hearts. No one had any idea what they were, nor what they wanted; only that they were here, they were dangerous, and the two newest residents of Traverse Town could fight them off.
And fight they did, both teenagers whirling, twirling and gliding about in a lethal dance to protect the people of the thriving city from that which would take the residents from their homes, take and take and take, and never return. Sora fought because of what had happened the last time these creatures had appeared. Seifer fought to reclaim that part of himself that he had lost to Ultimecia, lost to being used by the Sorceresses.
With a final horrifying shriek, Hyperion tore into one of the creatures' sides, the Keyblade lancing down through it's skull. The two blades missed crashing into each other by millimeters, and their owners were left panting, staring coolly at one another. Then Seifer offered his fighting companion a smirk, "You didn't ruin your new clothing."
Sora blinked out of his emotionless fighting mode, the shadows surrounding his own heart and soul slipping back and away as they found their brethren defeated, and their host now focused on more than the mindless slaughter of said brethren. Looking down, he fingered the smooth grey material, and his eyes glinted with amusement, "The tags said they'd been 'magically enhanced'. I guess that means it's resistant to damage."
Seifer's own eyes glittered, laughter bubbling up into his throat, "And Amos just _gave_ you those cloths! Those critters actually did some good for you!"
"We can't just keep calling them 'critters' and 'creatures'," Sora tapped his chin, "There's got to be something we can call them."
The blonde frowned, scratching his chin, "Your right. C'mon, we can discuss this over lunch in the First District, okay?"
"I suppose..." Sora propped his weapon up on his shoulder, while Seifer slipped Hyperion back into it's scabbard across the small of his back. The pair pushed through the doors into First District in silence, the cacophony startling after the silence of the deserted district they'd been in moments before echoing in their skulls. Seifer hopped off a ledge and into an alley, Sora stood at the lip, staring down incredulously at him, "What are you doing?"
"Short cut," the blonde responded with a half-way psychotic grin, "It's faster than going around the Weapons Accessory Shop," and instead of waiting for a response, the larger male grabbed Sora around the ankle and yanked him off. The brown haired boy yelped, landing in Seifer's extended arms and scowling mightily. The blonde laughed, "We really have to stop meeting like this, Kid."
"Cliché, Seifer, Cliché," he muttered as he was set down, before he stood right up on his tip-toes and smacked Seifer upside the head, "I've told you before not to call me 'Kid'!"
"Whatever you say, Kid," chuckled the gunblade specialist, jogging backwards away from the youth he'd met barely fourteen hours earlier. Grumbling, said youth drifted after the trench coat wearing man, deciding to take the stairs in front of the Weapons Accessory Shop over jumping over another ledge like Seifer. There was a small outdoor cafe, where the two males dropped into some empty seats and silently ran over the menus left at the table.
Within minutes, their orders had been taken, and they were left staring out over the central square of the First District, the doors to the Third District glaringly huge against the far wall. Sora had dropped the Keyblade from his shoulder, resting it against the table and his thigh, eyes distant, "They're strange, aren't they?"
"Huh?" So Seifer wasn't exactly on the ball at that moment. He blamed it on his stomach. He was _really_ hungry.
"Those shadow things," Sora looked away from the far door, towards his companion, "They're pack animals, but they don't come to protect one another. They're tough as nails when you're fighting them, but shatter like glass when they've been defeated. They're ruthless, icy, heartless creatures that feed upon their enemies..."
Seifer blinked, "Heartless? Where did you get that one, Kid? They're like animals, and animals definitely don't have hearts."
"So they're heartless," Sora gave him a rueful grin, "No hearts makes them heartless."
"I suppose that's their new name, now?"
Sora paused, tilting his head to one side and listened to the darkness in his own heart. Seifer's eyes bored into his skull, wondering what was up with his friend, before Sora nodded slowly, "Yeah, I guess that's what they are. They are the Heartless."
"Great," drawled Almasy, "and I thought 'Grat' was a stupid name."
---
For some unknown reason, the Heartless failed to return after their beat down by Sora and Seifer. The two blade-wielders turned their attention to scouring Traverse Town for any sign of Riku or Kairi, but by the end of the second week, all hope Sora had once carried seemed ready to leech out of him. It was depressing to know that he had no idea where his oldest friend and his not-so-secret crush had vanished to.
Depression settled in, and it was all Seifer could do to yank his young housemate up by the boot straps and force him to focus on the here and now. To do so, Seifer set up a horrid ritual of training-- wake up before the sun rose, balance practice along the high railings of the hotel in the Second District until breakfast. After the most important meal of the day it was practice of moves and attacks until lunch, wherein one of the other residents of Seifer's apartment block would call them in for a fresh cooked meal. After lunch it was a painful session of fighting to the best of their abilities. Slowly, but surely, Sora's skill began to increase by small increments.
It likely would have continued in such a pattern had it not been for the events at the end of the third month Sora had been living in Traverse Town.
---
They had just finished gulping down Miss Rose's stew-- Rose being Seifer's next door neighbor in the apartment block-- and quizzing each other on what exactly they thought the meat chunks had been made of this time. They had been slightly salty, and seriously tasted of water, but neither male had been able to identify whatever it had been that had once been the living part of their meal. Not that it mattered all that much, either. It was just something to do.
The tremendous crash outside the doors had the pair bolting out Rose's door, weapons in hand, and flipping over the railing from second story to first. Tense and wary, the twosome let their sharp gazes pick over the center square of the Second District. Nothing.
Then what was all the-- all thoughts came to a screeching halt as they heard another crashing noise, and finally got their look at what had been making so much noise. Annoyed, Seifer stood up from his defensive crouch, "Marx! Marx what the _hell_ do you think you're going?!"
A head poked out of the 'bubble' section atop the strangely shaped machine that had apparently been bouncing on the other side of the Third District Doors, finally getting over and crashing into the ground. The pale haired mechanic laughed nervously, "Er... Hey Seifer... Sora..."
"Marx..." Sora groaned, shaking his head and letting go of his Keyblade; it vanished before it hit the ground. Rubbing his forehead, the fourteen year old wondered what exactly he had done in a past life to deal with the bullshit that was being piled up on top of him.
"What _is_ this thing?" wondered the blonde gunblader, his black leather encased hand settling on the smooth blue hull of Marx's latest machine.
"Don't really know," Marx responded, "A group of survivors came in in it, and asked me to fix everything that was wrong with it."
And abruptly, both teenagers muttered in eerie unison, "Survivors?"
"You remember those black things from a few months ago?" Marx asked needlessly-- of course they remembered, they were the ones to battle them, "Well, we got this small family who says they survived the things wiping out their world. Now, I don't know if I should believe them but--"
"You should," Sora interrupted, head bowed, wild brown bangs shadowing his eyes, and giving him a distinctly demonic cast, "I've seen it first hand. C'mon Seifer; let's go talk to these survivors."
Marx watched in total confusion as the pair bolted for the doors to the First District, wherein they could get information from this group of survivors of the Heartless. Sora was also hoping for a more reliable method of traveling the passages between the realms than what he and Seifer had used. After all, Sora had been unconscious and sucked into an uncontrollable portal. Seifer had been-- and still was, apparently-- intimately connected to the 'thing' he'd called Time Compression. He'd used the general lack of any real passage of time to move between realities.
Neither method was considered safe or stable, which is why neither male was all to happy with trying out said methods. So they searched out the small family. They didn't get much information from them, but the family seemed content to live out what remained of their lives in Traverse Town, and offered their 'gummi ship' to the two warriors. Seifer had been leery of leaving the city unprotected, but Sora had wanted to set out first thing. The argument would have continued on, but Rose had pointedly told them point blank that the swords on her walls were not just decorations, and she was well skilled in the usage of all of them.
Which meant Sora was positive that he would be the one who got to decide what was going to happen. Seifer only got his delaying of take off due to the fact that Marx had yet to completely fix all the systems that were active within the ship.
Sora had gained a bounce to his step that had been missing for months, and a sparkle to his eyes. The darkness that had been slowly enveloping his heart and soul was pushed back, fought with a fierceness not seen since the battle in which his island had been destroyed. This version of Sora was ready, willing, and so close to being able to travel to the other worlds to find Riku and Kairi, not to mention understand just what, exactly, it was that had destroyed his world, his life.
This would be the adventure of a lifetime, he just knew it.
---
End Chapter
Author's Notes:
While this is longer than most of my other chapters (at 50kb) it's still shorter than what I was aiming for. However, I don't want to jump into the beginning of Sora's Amazing Journey through hell in this first chapter, that really just sets up the back story.
If you hadn't figured it out yet, my idea was that instead of Destiny Islands essentially being the last world to be devoured by the Heartless (since Sora stops them from doing the same in the other worlds he goes to), it is instead the first world destroyed.
Why did I chose Seifer over Squall? Seifer just made more sense-- he's running from the persecution of being the Sorceress' Knight back in his home world. What was better than going to a completely different world. And that brown haired chick in the First District of Traverse Town says that people come to the city to escape bad pasts and whatnot right at the beginning of the game. Seemed perfectly logical.
In any case, while I loathe Mickey, Donald, Goofy, Daisy, and Minnie, I'm rather fond of the triplet ducks and the rest of the Disney characters that appear in the game (excluding all the characters in the Nightmare before Christmas, and Phil) so expect them to show up. Sora _will_ go to their worlds, and there's likely to be changes as to how each adventure goes, I'll try to stick to the original ones.
What will truly be different is Sora's adventures to realms outside of the ones in the game. He _will_ be visiting the realms of other games, of television shows, and of anime and manga. Since there is no Maleficent (yet), there's no need for anyone to be gathering the Princesses of Heart, that part's pretty much completely axed. Kairi is out there. Riku is out there.
I'm also fond of the 'V' pairing. What is the 'V' pairing? It means that Riku is infatuated with Sora, but Sora loves Kairi. Kairi may or may not love Sora. She doesn't really like Riku. Sora could, quite possibly, be turned to loving Riku, but for now he's stuck on Kairi. As it is, this will be a long, drawn out, and very likely dark version of a Kingdom Hearts 'What If' Alternate Universe. And I do have some serious plot twists in mind.
If you hadn't figured it out yet, this story takes precedence over the Identity Series. I don't really _try_ with the IS; it just flows out. With Route Unknown, I find myself very carefully thinking things through. With Route Unknown, I basically try to write 80kb of text before Author's Notes, and try to keep the reader interested. I hope this has interested you.
If not, then I suppose that's just the way things have to be, non?
- Li Xiang
The Goddess of Band-Aids
I tried to go with as close to the script for Riku and Sora's words during the End of Destiny Islands, but I've likely got parts wrong. Even though I started (another) new game yesterday, my memory is not perfect, so there are likely some discrepancies. That's okay, though. This is an AU, after all.
This fic is only archived at Fanfiction.net and Keyblades Crossed (check my profile, since FF.net doesn't want to show the bloody link) should it appear elsewhere without my permission, I shall be rather pissed off. Just because I'm apathic ninety percent of the time doesn't mean I don't have one bitch of a temper.
Kingdom Hearts is property of Disney Interactive and Squaresoft.
--
Route Unknown
Chapter One
Li Xiang
--
He had only just gotten into his room, thinking over what had been said a few hours earlier as the sun set, sitting on the end of the dock with Kairi. Surely, Riku was not any different than he had ever been... Riku had always been a bit strange, and the silver haired fifteen year old was not known for keeping it a secret. He had always been a bit of a loner, only ever allowing Sora, and then, later, Kairi into his friendship. It was still somewhat disturbing that the long-time friendship he had held with the older teen had become a rivalry of sorts over Kairi...
His thoughts shattered as the wind outside his window slammed his shutters shut with unprecedented force. Sure, there had been some pretty wicked storms during his fourteen years of life, but Sora had always been down in the underground bunkers when the occasional hurricane hit, and outside of those fierce ocean storms, he'd never seen the wind get to this magnitude. Gingerly, he reached up to latch his shutters shut, to keep them from banging about, when his had froze.
The raft!
Without thought, he tugged his jacket, gloves and boots back on, slamming the window open and plunging off the second story windowsill. It wasn't the first time he'd done as such, and he'd fallen from the higher cliff faces of the obstacle course before, so he wasn't even bruised. Yellow boots slammed down hard on the wooden planks that made up the 'roads' between each of the houses on the island. He found himself in his little skiff, pushing off from the dock and speeding through the water in little time; he had to tie up the raft so that all their hard work didn't get washed away in the storm.
It was with a start, as he looped a rope around the poles at the other dock, that he realized that both Kairi and Riku's boats were also tied to the dock. A quick look about revealed that he could vaguely see Riku on the small island where they normally duke it out, stick-to-stick. It was to dangerous to splash through the waters to the ladder that dropped into the ocean, so he made a running jump, latching onto the roof-top of the seaside shack and pulling himself up. Another jump had him on the bridge, racing towards his friend. It was certainly much faster than actually going through the shack.
He skid to a stop a bare two feet from his long time friend, "Riku!"
"Sora..."
He ignored the whimsical tone in his friend's voice, instead letting his gaze roam the small island, "Riku! Where's Kairi?! I thought she was with you!"
"The door has opened," the older boy mused, turning his attention from the sky to the wild-haired youth at his side.
"What are you talking about? We've got to find Kairi!"
"She's coming with us," the faintly mocking smirk on Riku's face was ignored in favor of giving him an incredulous look. Sora opened his mouth to respond, but Riku beat him to it, "The door is open. Once we go through, we may not be able to come back. We may never see our parents again. There's no turning back. But this may be our only chance. We can't let fear stop us."
"R... Riku?"
"I'm not afraid of the darkness," Blue-green eyes turned away from him to stare up at the black and crimson orb hovering high over their heads, "Are you...?"
And he lifted his hand, holding it out to Sora in a manor that was eerily familiar... oh good gods... Sora's eyes widened with panic as he recognized the gesture from his daydreams two days earlier. Riku had done the exact same thing, just before they'd been swallowed by the ocean's waves.
However, this time it wasn't water that was drowning them, but darkness and shadows. The chattering of the strange black creatures back on the main island grew loud in his ears and the darkness reached up to envelope both himself and his best friend, "Ri-Riku!"
"I'm not afraid," repeated the older teenager, not even moving an inch as Sora reached up to grasp him palm. For an instant, Riku and Sora held hands, Sora accepting Riku's invitation. For an instant. Then fear welled up in Sora's chest, fear of the deep violet shadows that were formering about their feet, and Sora felt his grip fail; something seemingly slamming into his gut, staggering him. And he fell back, not unlike in his dream, and cried out in pain and shock, "Riku!"
"Sora!" It was the first true emotion Sora had heard since they began to speak, and blue eyes locked on blue-green. The brown haired fourteen year old was stunned by the fury that flooded his best friend's normally hodded gaze, before the purple shadows and the all-encompassing darkness swallowed them both, squirming and writhing shades of emptiness, invading lungs and stomach and heart and mind and soul, as Sora struggled desparately in vain to find his friend once more.
Then bright, golden white light flared in his periphial vision, and something cool, heavy, and solid landed in his open palm. The shadows about him screeched and howled in pain, withdrawing from their feast of clammy flesh, and leaving the teenager panting for breath on the ground, clutching at the heavy, oversized key that was his salvation. Blue eyes cleared, and although he felt safe, felt reassured, he could still feel those insidious shadows that had crept into his body, had found safety from his salvation's ruthless resistance of their viscious attack. They creeped and crawled and coiled around heart and soul, mind and body, chilling his fevered body to the bone.
As he lay, flat on his back, clutching at the giant key in his palm, he heard something whisper in his ear, "Keyblade..."
Still, worry for both Riku and Kairi was foremost in his mind, and thus the youth struggled to his feet, ignoring the voice; shoving it to the back of his mind to forget about. Using the key as a crutch, still weak from that which had attempted to envelop him, he stumbled his way away from the small island, determined to find his other friend, his crush, his love. Tired eyes caught upon an elegantly crafted door that rested atop the entrance to the so-called 'secret place'-- gods knew, everyone knew where it was-- that had never been there before. Confused and wary, he batted the black bug-like creatures away from him with his key, resolved to find out what was going on. Nothing was making any sense!
The door opened almost as soon as he was in front of it, and he had to momentarily bend down to crawl through the under-sized vine-covered entrance, straightening once a few feet in. Then he was moving, the key in his hand no longer needed as a crutch, his careful steps echoing strangely in the silence of the cave. While the doors would likely keep the wind from whistling into the cavern from that way, there was always the two window-like openings at the top of the cavern's roof. There should have been wind, should have been _sound_ coming through them, but he heard nothing. The silence was unnerving.
Then he was in the cavern, staring at the white cloth covered back of his other best friend, "Kairi!"
"...Sora..." her voice was lost and distant as she turned away from the brown and yellow oblong... thing... that had always been at the far end of the Secret Place.
"Kairi!" He moved to step forwards, but the brown and yellow _door_ burst open, wind ripping out and through it, accompanied by streaks of what looked like black lightning. The redheaded girl was blown towards him by the wind, and he opened his arms, attempting to grasp her and cushion her impact-- but she vanished only a split second before she would have hit him. Eyes wide with shock, he lost his own perilous balance, and the wind whisked him up. Pain pulsed through his back and sides as he hit rock after rock, tumbled as he was through the tunnel back to the surface. His cranium cracked solidly against the stone of the entrance, briefly causing his vision to swim, and then blacken. The wind raced out through the hole not unlike a vacuum, and took him with it.
He ended up rolling across sand, spitting it out once he got his bearings, shaking his head and trying desperately to ignore the pain in his every limb. Good bloody gods above and below did it hurt. His body had not been made to take that kind of punishment. His hands scrabbled for purchase, and he hauled himself up onto his knees, eyes widening and mouth drying as he realized he was only bare inches away from having fallen off the edge of the island.
Off the edge of what remained of the island.
Bounding to his feet, Sora's panicked gaze brushed over everything-- the island had been torn asunder somehow, some when. The cave he'd been in moments ago had vanished; the only signs that life had once been on this island were the scattered and broken remains of the seaside shack, the bridge, and the dock. Sand was everywhere.
A chill raced up his back, and he whirled, eyes landing on the beast of his nightmarish daydreams. His tongue felt thick in his throat, gritty and dirty in a way that it would have been, even without having minutes previously been eating sand. The dark creature that had grown from his own shadow in his dreams moved closer, and Sora dropped into a defensive stance, knowing in the pit of his stomach that without a weapon he'd never survive. He was practiced in swordsmanship, not in bare handed fighting techniques. He'd dropped the key when he'd been launched from the cavern, and had no idea where it could be. It had likely fallen off the edge of the floating landmass that had once been part of an ocean.
Sora backed off a few feet as the creature came closer, and he looked around nervously for a plank of wood he could weild as though a sword. He needed a weapon-- _any_ weapon!
Then, to his surprise, the key returned to his hand. He had dropped it, hadn't he? Back when the wind had howled from the door, and Kairi had flown towards him, he had dropped the key to catch her... how had he-- then there was no more time to think, as the creature's hand came barreling down towards him. Heart in his throat, the youth dodged to the left, swinging the key much as he would have swung his wooden sword at Tidus while the blonde haired youth was staring about confused, wondering where his opponent had vanished to. But this was no time for reminiscing. Sora would have leapt away, backing off and searching for safety, but for one thing.
The creature had not screamed or cried out-- but it's dark flesh had screeched like that shadows that had bond him and invaded his body had done when the key came to his hand. So the key could harm these creatures...? That was good to know. He swung the key again and again, handling it much like he would have his wooden sword-- although the silver metal key was much heavier than his toy sword-- crashing it into the creature's hand, again and again and again.
He had no hope that he would defeat this creature just by taking out one hand, like he had in his dreams, but it was the most easily available piece of the beast. Besides, taking out one hand would leave it less capable of harming him. Sora couldn't see, as the beast was absolutely oversized, that the reason why the hand he was attacking never looked damaged was because shadows were racing to it as protection, dissolving the shadow-formed mass bit by bit.
It was hectic, and terrifying, fear lodging in his throat as the beast stood to it's full height, leaving Sora without a target. The pain in his limbs was making him slow, and the long day he'd had prior to this night-- sparring with Tidus, Selphie and Wakka, racing Riku around the obstacle course, and finding the foodstuffs for the raft-- catching up with him. He stumbled a few steps as black-rimmed pink energy balls impacted around him. Then the beast was on his knees again, reaching out to smash the insolent bug that dared to attack it.
Sora reacted as fast as his lethargic body would allow him to, hacking fiercely at the hand that tried to pulverize him. This patterned continued, on and on and on, for several hours, Sora tired but fighting, and the beast losing cohesion at the larger size, reforming itself again and again, smaller and smaller each time.
Finally it was his size, and Sora, tiredly triumphant, bellowed a war-cry, key slamming into the creature's left side, the shadows screeching and pulling apart, only to shatter as the key split it's body in half. Face bloody and bruised, limbs heavy, breath coming harsh, Sora had no time to wonder what would happen next in this bizarre, nightmare-like time. The only thing he knew was that as he collapsed unconscious in the sand, there was a horrendous noise. It sounded... sounded like the landmass he was laying flat out on... was tearing itself to pieces.
---
Mickey Mouse, king of his own warped little world, watched the sky as one of the stars flickered out. He watched for a few minutes more, then shrugged. After all, it was a proven fact that stars died from time to time. This had been the first star he'd seen wink out in over a decade. Sighing, he pulled away from his windowsill, and returned to his bedroom, where his wife lay sleeping.
Tiredly, he settled himself down beside her, content in the knowledge that everything was right with reality.
---
"Kid? Hey, Kid, wake up!"
"Nnnh...?" Sora's eyes fluttered open, before he squeezed them tightly shut once more, skull protesting to even that slight movement. Good gods was he in pain. He was in such pain that he didn't even acknowledge being called 'Kid'; something he hated being called with a passion. His skull pulsated in an uneven beat of torment, and he decided keeping his eyes tightly closed was a lot more fun that trying to wake up with one bitching headache.
"Don't think I'm just going to let you lay hung over in this alley, Kid," the voice was annoyed, and the next thing Sora knew was that he'd been lifted into a pair of well sculpted arms, and was being carried away from where he'd been. He felt almost like he used to, back when his father had still been alive, and would cart him around the island as he had beens too small to get there on his own. Subconsciously, he snuggled closer to the source of heat, ignoring the exasperated sigh from the man hauling him about.
As it was, his pleasurable little trip was cut abruptly short as he was unceremoniously dropped into icy water. Sputtering, the islander shoved wet bangs out of his face to glare up into the amused blue-green eyes of the almost adult standing over him. For a moment, Sora could have sworn it was Riku, but then the facts came into his brain-- the hair was too short, and blonde for that matter. No, this man with the scar between his eyebrows was certainly not his fifteen year old best friend.
"Awake now?" queried the smirking man, and Sora scowled at him. Then he ignored him, instead popping his dislocated shoulder back into it's socket, and proceeding to take inventory of all his injuries. He had expected the blonde to take off once he was being ignored-- gods knew that Selphie and Tidus had never been ones to stick around if they were the ones being ignored-- but that was not the case. He found this out as he stripped off his wet jacket, hopping up onto the side of the canal, and unzipping the top of his battle-beaten jumper to check for anything overly serious. His ribs hurt like a bitch, and it wasn't just from being dropped by the blonde.
When a black gloved hand pressed firmly against the bruising over his ribs on the left side of his body, he jumped in surprise. The blonde was staring at the assortment of injuries that covered the fourteen year old, and cursed, "Shit. Sorry for dumping you like that, Kid. Didn't realize you were injured."
"Don't call me 'Kid'," Sora grumbled half-heartedly, more concerned with finding something to tap his ribs up with so they could heal, "My name is Sora."
"Seifer," the man introduced himself, "C'mon, let's get to my apartment, I'll be able to take a better look at those injuries of yours."
Sora looked up at him, ready to question his motives, when he suddenly found himself swept back up into Seifer's muscled arms again. It was rather fun being carted around like this, so he let the older teenager do so. This was approximately four seconds before he opened his mouth to question about the blonde's build. No mere laborer got muscles like that-- or had a blade scar between their eyes like the one Seifer had, "Do you do swordplay?"
"Where did that come from?" the blonde wondered, momentarily looking curiously down at the youth in his arms, "And no, I don't. I'm a gunblade specialist."
"Gun...blade?" he looked utterly confused, and Seifer had to chuckle, "What's a 'gunblade'?"
"It's kinda the combination of a sword and a gun," he explained, "I've only ever meet-- and seen-- one other who could actually use one properly. He's the reason I'm in Traverse Town, actually."
"Traverse Town?" he was sure he looked like an idiot, but he had to know, "is that where I am?"
"You didn't know?" the blonde tilted his head, "Ah well, considering that it's practically a nexus for people escaping their worlds, I suppose it's understandable."
"So... so I'm really on another world...?" Sora was stunned. This was what he and Riku and Kairi had been working towards for ages now. But... neither Kairi nor Riku were here to share it with him. His heart sunk, and the claws of darkness scrabbling for a hold within him leeched a little deeper, hardening said heart.
Seifer raised an eyebrow, stretching that sharp scar of his oddly, "You came here without knowing it was a world that wasn't your own?"
"I was kind of unconscious," Sora bit out uncomfortably; he was set down for a moment as Seifer fished his keys out of his pocket, and unlocked his door. The brown haired teenager moved to enter on his own, but Seifer picked him back up, and he was carried in to be placed on the dusty old couch in the room.
"Unconscious?" pondered the blonde, "it shouldn't be possible to leave your world if you're unconscious..."
"What if your world has been destroyed?" Seifer jerked to a halt in his search for medical supplies, turning confused eyes upon his guest.
"What do you mean... 'destroyed'? Did the people of your world turn it into a nuclear wasteland? Some maniacal dictator decide upon using Time Compression to control everything? Did a meteor crash-land, or something?"
Sora nodded slowly, "Or something. There was this huge storm, and then all these creepy shadowy creatures kept popping up and attacking me. Riku got swallowed by shadows, and Kairi vanished without a trace. Then our island was just a sand covered ruin, and this big black... thing... attacked me. I fought it-- that's where I got the injuries-- and managed to defeat it, but I collapsed. It sounded like the world was destroying itself, and I passed out. Then you dumped me in the water."
Seifer frowned, returning to his task of procuring supplies to bandage the youth with. He worked in silence for a few minutes, trying to puzzle out everything that had happened in the younger boy's world leading up to it's destruction. Whatever had happened, it sounded like it was possible for it to happen in other worlds, as well. That was not a good thing, in any way, shape, or form. Upon tightening the bandage around Sora's chest, and listening to the hiss of pain that signified that it was just tight enough, Seifer spoke again, "Could they come here...?"
"I don't know," Sora stared dully down at the man, "I don't know what's going on, what's happening. I don't know why I'm here, or where Riku and Kairi are, or even what I'm supposed to do now! What if Riku and Kairi are in trouble? What if those black things track me here, or worse yet, follow Riku or Kairi?"
"Calm down Kid," Seifer smirked at the scowl he got in return, "You can worry about that stuff when it comes to bite you in the ass. For now, you should rest and let your body heal; I'd buy you a potion to fix ya up, but I don't have enough cash to pay for anything aside from this apartment and food supplies. Sorry Kid."
"Do you have a problem with saying my name?" grumbled the youth, staring down at his bare and bandaged chest, his silver crown pendant appearing sharp and cold against the alabaster cloth. He could feel injuries on his thighs, and shakily stood to kick the rest of his jumper off, leaving him only in his white and black striped boxers. He grabbed the bandages, hiking his boxers up to bandage his upper thighs-- he was embarrassed to drop his boxers in front of this stranger. Not to say that he wasn't embarrassed to just be wearing his boxers, gloves and boots in front of a complete stranger; he was. He'd just die of embarrassment if he had to drop his boxers.
Noting his discomfort, Seifer headed off for his small apartment's even smaller kitchen, rattling the cupboards in an attempt to find something for the pair to eat. There was very little in them-- he would be paid on Monday, which was two days from then, and then he'd go and buy groceries, but for now, they'd have to deal with Instant Sapporo. It wasn't the greatest soup he'd ever tasted-- nothing would ever beat Matron's soups, in his mind-- but it was good enough to eat. "So who are these Riku and Kairi guys?" the blonde wanted to know, rather curious.
"Kairi's a girl," Sora called back, tightening the white cloth over a gash that was already scabbing over, testament to how much time he must had spent unconscious, "Riku's been my best friend since I was three or four. He's a year older than me, and is one hell of a swordsman. I don't think I've ever managed to beat him in our matches. Hell he beat Tidus, Selphie and Wakka when they triple-teamed him without batting an eye; or at least that's what Tidus told me. After Kairi came to our world, six or seven years ago, our friendship got kinda strained, since Kairi liked spending time with me, and Riku didn't like that. He kinda turned everything into a fight for Kairi's attention... I think he may have been jealous..."
"Or he could have been upset that Kairi was taking up all your time," Seifer returned, feeling an echo of the pain he always felt when thinking about the 'family' he'd given up back at Garden when he'd joined forces with their enemy. An echo of the pain of being ignored by the guy that had been his best friend when they grew up at the orphanage... "And used the rivalry to keep your attention on him."
"I never thought of it that way..." Sora looked down at his beaten jumper, "Hey, Seifer, do you think you have any clothing that might fit me?"
"You're about two feet shorter than I am," the gunblader chuckled a bit, spirits lifted by the mental image of the fourteen year old being swamped in his clothing, "so I don't think so."
"Damn..." Sora muttered, wondering what he was going to wear now. It wasn't like he had magically repairing clothing.
With an amused smirk, Seifer set the Sapporo down beside his guest, then meandered on towards his bedroom. He could wear one of Seifer's T-shirts almost like a dress, the nineteen year old was sure of that, but it was better than nothing. Besides, Sora hadn't lost any of the baby fat in his face yet, so he'd probably _look_ like a girl in a dress any ways. If they had to go out, the only problem would be Sora's own self-consciousness.
He shuffled through his drawers, hauling out one of his larger grey t-shirts, and a black and white vest not unlike the navy and grey one he was wearing at that moment. Although instead of a single tie directly though the center of the black and white vest, there were three clasps-- one at the throat, one in the center, and one two inches above the bottom. Seifer had liked it back when he bought it just before that whole 'incident' with the Sorceresses, but he'd long since gotten used to his navy and grey vest, and had only worn the black and white one once.
He also grabbed a couple belts and a leather belt pack for Sora to dump his junk in. It wasn't like the t-shirt had pockets. With a smirk, he left his room, heading back to where his guest was digging in to the meal, apparently starving. Sora shrugged with a bit of a grin, "I haven't eaten since breakfast; and it was several hours after dinner by the time I beat that thing."
"I'd be hungry too," mused the blonde, throwing the clothing at the youth, and ignoring the fact that it would take about three days before he got to the point of devouring piping hot soup, like Sora was. The joys of being a trained mercenary/assassin.
"No pants?"
"None of them would fit you."
He got an evil glare, "I am not looking like I'm wearing a dress."
"You're welcome to try and find any pants in my closet that will fit you," Seifer smirked, "Although I doubt it."
"... I hate you."
"Of course you do," the patronizing smile Seifer gave the boy caused the youth to carefully set what remained of his Sapporo soup on the coffee table, then promptly launch himself at the blonde, ignoring his wounds. The blonde laughed loudly, fending off the younger's attacks without even once hitting damaged flesh. If there was something Seifer was good at after all his years as a SeeD Cadet, it was knowing where another's injuries were. Where he had once used that knowledge to inflict the maximum amount of pain on his opponents, he used it here to keep Sora from getting even more hurt.
To Sora's frustration, it was a bare five minutes later when his body began to protest his activities. He was used to going at least ten, fifteen minutes, when Riku wasn't being an asshole and beat him black and blue. Grumpily, the islander returned to his seat on the couch, and his meal, slurping down the rest of it without even bothering to touch the spoon Seifer had presented it to him with.
After Seifer had cleaned out his own cup of Sapporo Instant Soup, and had thrown the garbage into a container, he returned his attention to his unusual guest, "You said that you fought the thing that destroyed your world?"
Sora nodded, one hand subconsciously going to his bandaged ribs. Seifer didn't even bother to note the movement; it was something he was rather familiar with after taking so many damned SeeD Field Exams. He'd seen far to many SeeDs and Cadets do something similar when thinking about the incident that had harmed them. The blonde's blue-green eyes bore into the side of Sora's skull, "You a bare hand fighter?" It was the only explanation-- the kid didn't have a weapon with him when he'd found him.
He just hoped that he wasn't dealing with another Zell Dincht. That wasn't exactly something he wanted to do. One Chickenwuss was annoying enough.
Sora shook his head, "Swordsman."
That raised an eyebrow, "You any good?"
"Riku's better," Sora admitted, although there was that hint of annoyance to his voice, the hint that Seifer could quite often remember tinting his own voice, back before he'd gotten more girth than his own rival, and was able to be better than the other simply because he was physically stronger and more muscular.
"You lost your sword when your world was destroyed, right?"
Instead of responding, Sora lifted his hands into the air, a look of concentration gracing his child-like features. His concentration paid off when, to Seifer's surprise, there was a flare of white-gold energy running between both white gloved hands, that amassed into a silver key. Seifer's eyes nearly popped out of his head at the appearance. He'd never seen anything like that before, not even in the employ of a Sorceress.
The key was solid steel, the apparently chromed to give it such a glinting, perfectly shiny look to it. The handle was worked in an old fashioned design, a beautiful web work of chromed steel shaped vaguely like a heart. At the end of each of the archaically designed vines of metal, glittered a piece of quartz crystal, and the former mercenary was positive that if the light hit it just the right way, the entire key would look as though it was made from rainbows. There was a keychain attached to the heart, as well, the keychain forming an elegantly crafted spider-web a single quartz crystal inset directly in the center of the web-- Seifer was positive it was stronger than it looked.
The opposite end of the key was the traditional form of an archaic skeleton key, meant to be used on anything and everything. The only difference between a skeleton key and this one was the sheer size of it. Sora held the Key with his hand on the metal bar that ran vertically directly through the center of the 'heart', each side of said heart acting as a hand guard, the heart's bottom as the cross guards to a sword. The chromed metal that formed the rest of the three and a half foot long key had a peculiar look to it, and Seifer smirked in appreciation. The key wasn't 'round' as it appeared, it was tear-drop shaped, the 'pointy' part of the tear drop being a razor-edged blade that continued on through the forks and prongs of the key's end. A truly formidable weapon, even if it did look rather silly.
"I used this," Sora's voice hauled the blonde back from his mental observations, "The creatures seem... afraid... of it for some reason. When I tried fighting them off before the first time I called it, I did no damage but as soon as I called this key to me..."
"It's a blade," Seifer mused, reaching out to roll the thing over so that the bladed edge sat straight up.
"Huh?" was Sora's intelligent answer, palm flat on what should have been the razor edge of the weapon. Seifer lifted a curious eyebrow, lightly brushing his fingers along the blade, after removing one of his black gloves. He raised his hands, showing Sora the thin, but bloody, lacerations left by the sword. Almost was positive that the slashes would sting like a bitch in the next few minutes, and was mentally berating himself for having done that. Not one of his more intelligent moves.
"It cut you!" gaped the stunned youth, "It didn't cut me... why...?"
"Maybe because you can 'call' it to yourself?" pondered the ex-Knight, "It might recognize only you as the person to wield it. Or maybe not; we don't know. All we know is that this... key-blade of yours hurts those shadow things."
"Key-blade..." Sora's eyes, closed in thought, suddenly snapped open, "That's what the voice called it! A Keyblade!"
"Voice?" a shiver worked it's way down Seifer's spine. The only voice he could ever remember hearing in his mind was the reason he was in Traverse Town in the first place.
"You must think I'm crazy," Sora muttered, unaware of Seifer's own thoughts, "But there was this voice... just after I summoned the Keyblade and got rid of the shadow-things, it said 'Keyblade'. Before that, I heard it in a dream. It was telling me all sorts of stuff, but I can only hazily remember anything it said," his forehead developed a frown as he directed his thoughts inwards, attempting to remember something, anything, that had been mentioned to him.
He need not have worried, because Seifer just shook his head, "S'all right, Kid. You can tell me more in the morning, alright? Right now, it's late, and the only thing I really want to do is sleep-- and quite frankly, you could use it. 'Night Kid."
"Don't call me that!"
---
A day later, and Sora was dressed in the embarrassing combination of grey t-shirt and black and white vest that made him look like a girl. A smirking Seifer padded along beside him as they moved through the second district, away from Seifer's lonely apartment and towards the first district where all the shops and restaurants were located. The only thing that had gotten the boy-who-looked-like-a-chick out of the apartment was the promise of first getting clothing.
It didn't keep him from being mortified that everyone thought he was Seifer's "cute little sister".
And of course, Almasy thought it was just damned funny, and would occasionally drape an arm over the teenager's shoulders, or ruffle his hair the same way an older brother would for a younger sister who was being shown around for the first time. Sora hated it.
"Why couldn't I have just worn my old clothing?" Sora grumbled, glaring evilly at the man who was currently making his life a living hell.
"Because they're in something like eighteen pieces after all the shit you went through," was the logical reply, "Besides, you agreed to this."
Sora scowled darkly at the ground, hands fiddling with the leather belt to which his wallet-chain-- and by proxy, his wallet-- was attached to. The ground was strange to him, having grown up in a land of wooden boardwalks, sand, rocks, and palm trees. The cool stone of the paved walks, the crunched together madness of this city, the lack of flora anywhere but in the first district, and of course the lack of any fauna made him distinctly uncomfortable. The clothing didn't help.
"Here we are!" Seifer announced cheerfully, stopping at a shop that stood just beside the great gates into the first district, "Your one-stop shop for all your clothing needs!" At Sora's confused look, he elaborated, "Commercial."
"What's a com-mer-shall?" Sora gave him a blank look.
Seifer gave him a completely stunned look, then shook his head, "Damn, you must have lived somewhere real boring."
"That was the reason Riku, Kairi and me were trying to go to other worlds," Sora explained, "We were bored on the island, and we wanted to go somewhere new, somewhere exciting... we got separated instead."
"Cheer up," Seifer gave the boy an annoyed look, "You'll find them, just don't wallow in self-pity and guilt. That doesn't get you anywhere." Shaking his head, the mercenary pushed open the shop's door, chuckling at the fact that the bells hanging over their head didn't jingle with the door open, but electronically activated a stupid little song that announced visitors.
The islander in Sora was in stunned awe. The shadows that hardened his heart were emotionless. So the only thing Sora outwardly showed was a somewhat muted curiosity at everything around him. So much clothing...
"Well, what are you waiting for?" wondered his guide and host, "find something you like, try it on, and we'll try to get it on credit." Seifer didn't have a hell of a lot of cash, after all was said and done. While Sora went about picking out clothing to try on, the older teenager went to haggle with the owner, Amos, who knew damned well that Seifer had almost no munny.
What Sora eventually settled on utterly confused Seifer. Where in the world did this kid get his sense of fashion? First a ruby jumper, a white and black short-sleeved jacket, yellow boots and white gloves, and now this? Black pants that were a baggy flare towards the bottom, the edge hovering just above his new black and neon green boots-- that is to say that the boot itself was black but the ties were the abnormally brilliant shade neon green seemed to turn when paired with the mix of all colors-- and a white leather strap around his upper-thigh, sitting only about an inch below where leg met pelvis.
His shirt was sleeveless and a deep ash grey, the stand-up collar a green to match his boots, the zipper that started just above his navel and done all the way up to his throat was decorated with three strips of matching green fabric. Beneath the sleeveless, he wore a red shirt that had black trim, and apparently buttoned up the front, considering the fact that the point the it came to in the front was split into two parts, the black going directly up the center. In the back, Seifer could see a matching point that dropped down to about mid-thigh. Sora had traded the white gloves with the circles on the back in for a pair of black leather fighting gloves, complete with chromed gauntlets of such an archaic fashion to match the Keyblade that was sitting on the couch back in Seifer's apartment.
His arms were bare of all decoration, and once could just barely see the chain of his crown-shaped pendant being hidden beneath his grey and green shirt. He tugged at the undershirt, trying to smooth out whatever wrinkles and bunches were beneath the zipped up sleeveless, looking somewhat nervous, "Well?"
"If that's what you want," Seifer sighed. This was going to cost him a pretty gil-- er, munny. He still wasn't used to this other currency. He had a huge pile of gil left over from the Sorceress War, and exchange was pretty good, but he didn't like to dip into his 'savings'. If he ever returned to his world, he'd like to have some cash to be able to spend on an apartment. Trudging back to the counter, he was rummaging around in the pockets of his black slacks, looking for some spare munny when it happened.
The shopkeeper gave a strangled cry, leaping backwards as a dark spot appeared on his counter, raising up and forming into a black, bug-shaped form.
Sora cursed surprisingly virulently, although Almasy should have expected him to be able to do it-- he was an islander, and they were practically all sailors-- before summoning the Keyblade into his hand. With a skill the former SeeD Cadet hadn't believed someone outside of Garden to be capable of, Sora leapt into the air towards the critter, key-shaped sword moving fluidly with him in a wild arcing attack. The thing had no idea what hit it, before it shattered into smaller shadows, vanishing into the floor.
Sora propped the Keyblade onto his shoulder, blue eyes dark and wary, searching out other enemies. Where one appeared, another followed. The stunned Shop keep gibbered something about Sora 'keeping the clothes as a thank you' before he ran off, presumably to hide; Sora's silent prediction bursting forth into reality as others started to appear, congregating on the injured islander.
A rather psychotic grin crossed the face of the white trench coat wearing mercenary standing beside his younger sort-of friend, and he reached behind him, beneath the jacket, to haul out his gunblade. Normally he didn't carry it with him just for merely shopping, but after what Sora had spoken of the night before, it was better to be safe than sorry. The weight of Hyperion in his hand had been sorely missed, and he gave a test swing to ensure that he hadn't lost any of his skill.
He hadn't.
Then the shadow-creatures were upon them, Sora diligently-- and silently-- cutting through them with only the occasional grunt of pain as he pulled sore muscles or bumped a bruise, or an exhilarated "yes!" crowed beneath his breath upon taking out a fair number of the beasts in a whirlwind of fierce attacks. Seifer, on the other hand, waded in, taunting the creatures and expertly wielding his dark blade in a dance of death; although he was careful not to unleash the power of his Limit Break, No Mercy, while within the shop.
It wouldn't do to destroy the shop's merchandise and end up paying for it. Although he'd likely end up paying for the window that Sora had just shattered by throwing one of the shadow beasts through it.
"Oops," the boy muttered, mostly unrepentant as he leapt through and tackled the beasts outside as the panicked midday shopping crowd screamed in terror, running rampant as they attempted to get away from the creatures. Seifer followed his companion's suit, leaping out through the broken window, and being treated to the singular sight of one of the creatures pouncing on a man, darkness extending to him.
Then the man's eyes rolled back into his head, a glowing orb of sparkling red, navy and violet, but mostly orange, being torn from the unconscious man's body. The light arched over to the small creature, while the man collapsed and the shadows apparently devoured him. But the worst part was when the light filled the shadow creature... it grew. And as it grew, it twisted, reforming, reshaping into an almost knight-like appearance, although the black orb-like face decorated by less than sane eyes and an equally insane grin on it's face. Seifer hit the ground, changing course all but instantly, heading towards this knight-version of the shadow beasts, Hyperion's dark blade singing for the once familiar feel of death upon it's edge.
Seifer did not disappoint, blade sinking home right between the wild eyes of the creature. It's brain-- or, at least, what likely passed for a brain in the cavern of it's skull-- pierced, it fell limp, sliding off the blade to vanish into shattered shadow shards once it hit the ground. Almasy didn't pause to marvel at this, instead whirling back into battle, fiercely attacking the creatures to prevent them from attack any one else.
Most everyone had vacated the second district, and those that remained were those that watched, terrified, from the windows high above the conflict, praying for a miracle to keep the two fighters gliding through attacks and destroying the shadows that had come for their hearts. No one had any idea what they were, nor what they wanted; only that they were here, they were dangerous, and the two newest residents of Traverse Town could fight them off.
And fight they did, both teenagers whirling, twirling and gliding about in a lethal dance to protect the people of the thriving city from that which would take the residents from their homes, take and take and take, and never return. Sora fought because of what had happened the last time these creatures had appeared. Seifer fought to reclaim that part of himself that he had lost to Ultimecia, lost to being used by the Sorceresses.
With a final horrifying shriek, Hyperion tore into one of the creatures' sides, the Keyblade lancing down through it's skull. The two blades missed crashing into each other by millimeters, and their owners were left panting, staring coolly at one another. Then Seifer offered his fighting companion a smirk, "You didn't ruin your new clothing."
Sora blinked out of his emotionless fighting mode, the shadows surrounding his own heart and soul slipping back and away as they found their brethren defeated, and their host now focused on more than the mindless slaughter of said brethren. Looking down, he fingered the smooth grey material, and his eyes glinted with amusement, "The tags said they'd been 'magically enhanced'. I guess that means it's resistant to damage."
Seifer's own eyes glittered, laughter bubbling up into his throat, "And Amos just _gave_ you those cloths! Those critters actually did some good for you!"
"We can't just keep calling them 'critters' and 'creatures'," Sora tapped his chin, "There's got to be something we can call them."
The blonde frowned, scratching his chin, "Your right. C'mon, we can discuss this over lunch in the First District, okay?"
"I suppose..." Sora propped his weapon up on his shoulder, while Seifer slipped Hyperion back into it's scabbard across the small of his back. The pair pushed through the doors into First District in silence, the cacophony startling after the silence of the deserted district they'd been in moments before echoing in their skulls. Seifer hopped off a ledge and into an alley, Sora stood at the lip, staring down incredulously at him, "What are you doing?"
"Short cut," the blonde responded with a half-way psychotic grin, "It's faster than going around the Weapons Accessory Shop," and instead of waiting for a response, the larger male grabbed Sora around the ankle and yanked him off. The brown haired boy yelped, landing in Seifer's extended arms and scowling mightily. The blonde laughed, "We really have to stop meeting like this, Kid."
"Cliché, Seifer, Cliché," he muttered as he was set down, before he stood right up on his tip-toes and smacked Seifer upside the head, "I've told you before not to call me 'Kid'!"
"Whatever you say, Kid," chuckled the gunblade specialist, jogging backwards away from the youth he'd met barely fourteen hours earlier. Grumbling, said youth drifted after the trench coat wearing man, deciding to take the stairs in front of the Weapons Accessory Shop over jumping over another ledge like Seifer. There was a small outdoor cafe, where the two males dropped into some empty seats and silently ran over the menus left at the table.
Within minutes, their orders had been taken, and they were left staring out over the central square of the First District, the doors to the Third District glaringly huge against the far wall. Sora had dropped the Keyblade from his shoulder, resting it against the table and his thigh, eyes distant, "They're strange, aren't they?"
"Huh?" So Seifer wasn't exactly on the ball at that moment. He blamed it on his stomach. He was _really_ hungry.
"Those shadow things," Sora looked away from the far door, towards his companion, "They're pack animals, but they don't come to protect one another. They're tough as nails when you're fighting them, but shatter like glass when they've been defeated. They're ruthless, icy, heartless creatures that feed upon their enemies..."
Seifer blinked, "Heartless? Where did you get that one, Kid? They're like animals, and animals definitely don't have hearts."
"So they're heartless," Sora gave him a rueful grin, "No hearts makes them heartless."
"I suppose that's their new name, now?"
Sora paused, tilting his head to one side and listened to the darkness in his own heart. Seifer's eyes bored into his skull, wondering what was up with his friend, before Sora nodded slowly, "Yeah, I guess that's what they are. They are the Heartless."
"Great," drawled Almasy, "and I thought 'Grat' was a stupid name."
---
For some unknown reason, the Heartless failed to return after their beat down by Sora and Seifer. The two blade-wielders turned their attention to scouring Traverse Town for any sign of Riku or Kairi, but by the end of the second week, all hope Sora had once carried seemed ready to leech out of him. It was depressing to know that he had no idea where his oldest friend and his not-so-secret crush had vanished to.
Depression settled in, and it was all Seifer could do to yank his young housemate up by the boot straps and force him to focus on the here and now. To do so, Seifer set up a horrid ritual of training-- wake up before the sun rose, balance practice along the high railings of the hotel in the Second District until breakfast. After the most important meal of the day it was practice of moves and attacks until lunch, wherein one of the other residents of Seifer's apartment block would call them in for a fresh cooked meal. After lunch it was a painful session of fighting to the best of their abilities. Slowly, but surely, Sora's skill began to increase by small increments.
It likely would have continued in such a pattern had it not been for the events at the end of the third month Sora had been living in Traverse Town.
---
They had just finished gulping down Miss Rose's stew-- Rose being Seifer's next door neighbor in the apartment block-- and quizzing each other on what exactly they thought the meat chunks had been made of this time. They had been slightly salty, and seriously tasted of water, but neither male had been able to identify whatever it had been that had once been the living part of their meal. Not that it mattered all that much, either. It was just something to do.
The tremendous crash outside the doors had the pair bolting out Rose's door, weapons in hand, and flipping over the railing from second story to first. Tense and wary, the twosome let their sharp gazes pick over the center square of the Second District. Nothing.
Then what was all the-- all thoughts came to a screeching halt as they heard another crashing noise, and finally got their look at what had been making so much noise. Annoyed, Seifer stood up from his defensive crouch, "Marx! Marx what the _hell_ do you think you're going?!"
A head poked out of the 'bubble' section atop the strangely shaped machine that had apparently been bouncing on the other side of the Third District Doors, finally getting over and crashing into the ground. The pale haired mechanic laughed nervously, "Er... Hey Seifer... Sora..."
"Marx..." Sora groaned, shaking his head and letting go of his Keyblade; it vanished before it hit the ground. Rubbing his forehead, the fourteen year old wondered what exactly he had done in a past life to deal with the bullshit that was being piled up on top of him.
"What _is_ this thing?" wondered the blonde gunblader, his black leather encased hand settling on the smooth blue hull of Marx's latest machine.
"Don't really know," Marx responded, "A group of survivors came in in it, and asked me to fix everything that was wrong with it."
And abruptly, both teenagers muttered in eerie unison, "Survivors?"
"You remember those black things from a few months ago?" Marx asked needlessly-- of course they remembered, they were the ones to battle them, "Well, we got this small family who says they survived the things wiping out their world. Now, I don't know if I should believe them but--"
"You should," Sora interrupted, head bowed, wild brown bangs shadowing his eyes, and giving him a distinctly demonic cast, "I've seen it first hand. C'mon Seifer; let's go talk to these survivors."
Marx watched in total confusion as the pair bolted for the doors to the First District, wherein they could get information from this group of survivors of the Heartless. Sora was also hoping for a more reliable method of traveling the passages between the realms than what he and Seifer had used. After all, Sora had been unconscious and sucked into an uncontrollable portal. Seifer had been-- and still was, apparently-- intimately connected to the 'thing' he'd called Time Compression. He'd used the general lack of any real passage of time to move between realities.
Neither method was considered safe or stable, which is why neither male was all to happy with trying out said methods. So they searched out the small family. They didn't get much information from them, but the family seemed content to live out what remained of their lives in Traverse Town, and offered their 'gummi ship' to the two warriors. Seifer had been leery of leaving the city unprotected, but Sora had wanted to set out first thing. The argument would have continued on, but Rose had pointedly told them point blank that the swords on her walls were not just decorations, and she was well skilled in the usage of all of them.
Which meant Sora was positive that he would be the one who got to decide what was going to happen. Seifer only got his delaying of take off due to the fact that Marx had yet to completely fix all the systems that were active within the ship.
Sora had gained a bounce to his step that had been missing for months, and a sparkle to his eyes. The darkness that had been slowly enveloping his heart and soul was pushed back, fought with a fierceness not seen since the battle in which his island had been destroyed. This version of Sora was ready, willing, and so close to being able to travel to the other worlds to find Riku and Kairi, not to mention understand just what, exactly, it was that had destroyed his world, his life.
This would be the adventure of a lifetime, he just knew it.
---
End Chapter
Author's Notes:
While this is longer than most of my other chapters (at 50kb) it's still shorter than what I was aiming for. However, I don't want to jump into the beginning of Sora's Amazing Journey through hell in this first chapter, that really just sets up the back story.
If you hadn't figured it out yet, my idea was that instead of Destiny Islands essentially being the last world to be devoured by the Heartless (since Sora stops them from doing the same in the other worlds he goes to), it is instead the first world destroyed.
Why did I chose Seifer over Squall? Seifer just made more sense-- he's running from the persecution of being the Sorceress' Knight back in his home world. What was better than going to a completely different world. And that brown haired chick in the First District of Traverse Town says that people come to the city to escape bad pasts and whatnot right at the beginning of the game. Seemed perfectly logical.
In any case, while I loathe Mickey, Donald, Goofy, Daisy, and Minnie, I'm rather fond of the triplet ducks and the rest of the Disney characters that appear in the game (excluding all the characters in the Nightmare before Christmas, and Phil) so expect them to show up. Sora _will_ go to their worlds, and there's likely to be changes as to how each adventure goes, I'll try to stick to the original ones.
What will truly be different is Sora's adventures to realms outside of the ones in the game. He _will_ be visiting the realms of other games, of television shows, and of anime and manga. Since there is no Maleficent (yet), there's no need for anyone to be gathering the Princesses of Heart, that part's pretty much completely axed. Kairi is out there. Riku is out there.
I'm also fond of the 'V' pairing. What is the 'V' pairing? It means that Riku is infatuated with Sora, but Sora loves Kairi. Kairi may or may not love Sora. She doesn't really like Riku. Sora could, quite possibly, be turned to loving Riku, but for now he's stuck on Kairi. As it is, this will be a long, drawn out, and very likely dark version of a Kingdom Hearts 'What If' Alternate Universe. And I do have some serious plot twists in mind.
If you hadn't figured it out yet, this story takes precedence over the Identity Series. I don't really _try_ with the IS; it just flows out. With Route Unknown, I find myself very carefully thinking things through. With Route Unknown, I basically try to write 80kb of text before Author's Notes, and try to keep the reader interested. I hope this has interested you.
If not, then I suppose that's just the way things have to be, non?
- Li Xiang
The Goddess of Band-Aids