"Hello there."

It was the dead of night and she began to laugh.

Her weary eyes greeted his. Hers were aged and worn. His were young with life.

It had been a good number of years. A good damn number of years. Her beauty was lost throughout those long years, throughout all the lack of sleep and stress. She was insane, or close enough to it. Or so they said. She was quite sane, as a matter of fact; her mind was working faster than it had ever worked in these last few years.

He didn't reply.

The boy didn't recognize her. Before him he saw a prematurely aged woman. He saw naught of the love they once shared. Who was this woman whom had come to meet him the night of his return?

She laughed softly.

Her mind was cracking. Fast. It was obvious. He had long forgotten her during his journey. He was famous. He was desired. He was once hers. She kept laughing; louder and louder. She was delusional. Just a little.

He shifted uneasily.

The woman was mental. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. All he could muster of himself was to stand there and gape at her.

Her laughing ceased.

Her eyes narrowed just a bit, and her lips formed into a smirk. He was losing his nerve. Ha. Sora? The infamous Keyblade wielder who had destroyed ten thousand heartless losing his nerve to his dear old childhood friend? How pathetic.

He felt his breathing halt.

He squinted his eyes. She looked just like a girl he knew once, a very long time ago; so long ago it felt like a dream of which he could never quite grasp the concept of. Then abruptly, he gasped, his eyes widened, and realization swept through him.

It was the dead of the night and she began to laugh.

"Hello there.

Do you remember me?

Because I sure as hell do remember you."