"Sora, do you remember that time you crapped your pants when we were kids?"

"I uh." Sora lies through his teeth. "No recollection of that whatsoever."

"You gotta be shitting me, dude!" She punches him on the shoulder, intending the pun. "Namine drew that shit and everything. Your brown pants browner and swollen around your Poopoo Place™," she says pointing to his butt. "Stinklines and everything. It was incredible. You had this innocent look of wonder on your face with a single tear rolling down your cheek while I made it okay."

"You made it okay, huh?" Sora actually doesn't remember this.

"You really don't remember what I told you?"

"Not at all."

"I told you pooping your pants was gross, Sora. You knew that and I knew that. But that doesn't make YOU gross."

"What? I-"

Kairi shushes Sora with a finger to his lips and a quiet and sly "shhhhhh."

Shortly after, they had sex for the first and only time, and Sora made a way bigger deal out of it than he should have, if we're being honest.

Some might think it should be a bigger event when the Thirteen first appear to him as the physical manifestation of themselves.
Little Sora watches them appear from right to left, one at a time.

And when they finally appear, Little Sora is beyond words.

Just as they are.

All possibilities are drawn out before his understanding under the condition that he forget this as soon as he leaves the room.
Everything that can and will happen to Sora in his lifetime happens to Little Sora within the blink of an eye. Were he not fortified by the Thirteen he might collapse under the strain of it all.

Instead, he feels nothing.

Nodding, he demonstrates an understanding.

The possibilities flutter away like a million angels and flies, obscuring the sky and sunlight that isn't present, yet casting a very real shadow upon them.

As they scatter, a hooded figure steps forward, extending a hand. He feels some sort of bond or kinship with this figure.

A token, or maybe an artifact.

Something to keep him alive in some capacity in the next stage of existence.

Little Sora reaches up and takes the object from the stranger's hand.

He clutches it to his chest as if he were wounded and steps back as the shadowed figure does the same.

From right to left, they disappear, one at a time.

Until there is nothing left but Little Sora and the object in his closed hand.

Fingers turn upward to reveal a popsickle stick.

On the stick there is a joke.

The joke makes Little Sora's eyes fill up with tears.

Riku stabs a sea urchin through his hand trying to find something to bop Sora with and begins laughing like a jock with mild head trauma. He gets up off his ass and mostly out of the water and smacks Sora in the face with his open hand, sea urchin first.

The spines stabbing into him break off into splinters in his hand and cut their way through Sora's cheek and gums. Crashing against his teeth.

Splintering upward.

Sora laughs out a mouthful of blood before patting Riku on the back congratulatory.

Riku rings in Sora's neck with his arm and laughs with him, giving him a bloody noogie.

"G- - KKTT KKT- dead!" Kairi screams, running past Namine, who's drawing everything. "You guys don't understand! GO-

Namine draws it as it is happening.

"I regret it," Sora says, hugging himself as if he's been wounded. "I dunno, I just. We didn't do it right, did we? We consummated in poison."

"I guess you're right," she says. "I guess I do regret it."

Sora briefly regrets regretting it as if her not regretting it would attract or persuade him to the idea.

But, it was regrettable.

And as the dark sun sets over the end of the world, Sora asks nobody in particular when the sun became dark and when the ocean turned black and nobody answered, letting him know that this hasn't happened yet and

Sora rests his mind and lays back closing his eyes.

Kairi isn't there anymore and maybe she never was, but Sora senses another presence.

Little Sora reaches up to the keyhole with the key in hand and stuffs it in.

He turns it until he can twist the knob.

The door opens and he walks into the darkness that consumes him.
The door ceases to exist.

Before him, the decomposed remains of Namine pointing at the giant flower pod on the other side of the room.

She is dead but her message carries on.

A promise to forget this and return to his life.

Blessings to her corpse in all such manner.

Sora becomes ambitious and vows to carry her on with him, forever.

Accepting another ghost to be haunted by in any such capacity.

He takes off his clothes and he enters the pod and he is to be consumed by it for however long it takes.

Little Sora imagines himself tearing her drawings off the wall and putting them carefully into several binders and packing them away.

As his body and bones grow, as does he retain the scope of his memories, it all happens too quickly, within the pod.

Things quite don't quite make the full capacity of sense anymore.

Be with your demons. Be with them.

As Sora stumbles out of the pod, aged to present, coughing and sputtering, all his memories come flooding back to him at once.

Sora remembers everything. Everything.
Namine had lied to him. She had broken the promise she had never made to him in a fit of cosmic irony, because she doesn't exist and has never existed in any sort of capacity that he or I will never fully comprehend.

Her corpse has been removed.
He's not in the same room he was.

Sora stands naked and stumbles to his knees aside the River Styx.
Screaming and clawing at his scalp until his hair is matted with blood.

No matter what he does or how hard he tries, the avalanche of memories doesn't stop.