For Xionsghost, a friend-crush of mine.

She trudges out of the chocolate swamp, holding herself as tightly as possible as if to offer some sort of comfort.

Your keyblade's just a sham!

She gathers her short, onyx tangles in her hands and wrings the sweet pudding from their oily strands.

Your whole existence is a sham! You're just a glitch!

She plops down on the gingerbread bank and curls further in on herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them up to her chin, desperate for any warmth she may be able to give herself.

You could never wield one even if you did find a real one!

"My keyblade is real," she whispers to herself, "I'm real."

What do you think we should do with this glitch?

Throw her and her fake keyblade into the swamp!

Yeah!

She shudders and sticks her hand out from the warmth and security of her tangled limbs, fingers curling and uncurling expectantly. In one final swell of energy, she outstretches all of her fingers and the code for a keyblade runs through her hands fleetingly, tauntingly, before dissipating.

She tries again, her hand a rapid flash of peachy skin against the azure sky as she tries again and again to summon her keyblade.

A sharp pang of light interrupts her desperate attempts and she has to blink a couple times to stop herself from glitching. The blinding beam gleams off of a metallic surface from the top of a candy cane tree. She blinks a fifth and sixth time before it registers that it's a keyblade perched on the striped branches. For the first time in her life, Xion almost is actually grateful for her prowess over glitching as she transports to the top branch with ease. Her small hands reach for its forbidden handle, but before the legendary blade, her ticket to acceptance, to happiness, to purpose, can fall into her possession, a gruff voice calls out to her.

"Hey! That's my keyblade!"

She looks down to see a strange man hanging from a couple branches down. She can't believe she didn't notice him before; there's not a gram of sugar on him anywhere, and he's at least five feet taller than most Sugar Rush denizens.

He reminds her of King Terra, in the height sense. His voice is also a lot deeper. He's dressed oddly as well.

He must be from a different game, she assumes dreamily. How different it must be in other games! Every single one a whole different world like Sugar Rush, but miles apart from it at the same time. She always dreamed about going to other games, but if mistakes were given freedom, all chaos would break loose. She feels bad for even thinking about going to other worlds.

"What do you think you're looking at?"

She gulps and snatches the keyblade up in her arms, glitching out of sight.

"Hey get back here! I need that! If I come back empty-handed, they're going to —"

His voice is gone and the roar of the saccharine crowd fills her ears like thick molasses.

"Keyblade racers, please transform your keyblade into your vehicle of choice and set it on the field." King Terra's booming voice echoes throughout the stands of sweets and is met with raucous applause.

He threw his own keyblade down and smirked as it elongated into a bronze chopper, roaring with life. The others went in order, setting their keyblades down for the board to take their names and ranks. Finally, when King Terra was ready to dismount his spectator chair, Xion, her hood covering most of her face, threw the stolen keyblade onto the track and beamed as it transformed into a hoverboard.

"Xion von Schweetz," the electronic board announces, stunning every audience member into silent shock.

But the other racers didn't stay silent for long.

"This must be a mistake!"

"She's a glitch!"

"How did she get a keyblade?"

"You're not going to actually let her race, are you King Terra?"

"Of course I'm not. Glitches aren't allowed to —"

Xion had heard enough, she scooped up the stolen keyblade-turned-hoverboard, closed her eyes tight, and glitched.

"Have you seen a keyblade around here?" Axel asked a blonde racer in too much pink.

"Oh, so it was your keyblade she used."

"The girl, the girl with the black hair and the red headband, um, with sprinkles, I think? Did you see where she went?"

"Yeah, I saw. Say, you probably want your keyblade back badly, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Then why don't we work together and set up a trap for Miss von Schweetz? Me and my friends will distract her, and you grab her with those…hands you got there, and you can collect the bounty money at King Terra's place."

"There's a bounty on her?" he asked more incredulously than was appropriate. He'd seen the look in that girl's eyes when she saw the keyblade, that desperate pine for something that wasn't purely materialistic, there was something else she really wanted, and she thought that the keyblade would give it to her.

Just like he believed it would give him a place on the top with Ventus.

"Of course there's a bounty on her. She's something of a kleptomaniac, a petty thief. She steals whatever she can, no matter how big or small, I think it's just for the thrill of stealing."

Oh. So he hadn't found a kindred spirit after all.

"Then fine, I'll help you catch your thief. But shouldn't we run this by your king first? Let him know what the game plan is?"

"Sure thing. Come on, I'll take you to his palace."

Xion sat near the coco powder patches, holding the cool metal to her chest with a content smile, the first she'd ever worn wholeheartedly in her entire life. It felt so right in her hands; she felt this unexplainable air of grace when she held it, this feeling of balance. It was so unique and foreign to her, so she held it tighter, relishing in the feel of it.

But things this good weren't meant to last.

"Well, look who it is, Miss Glitch Ditch. What's wrong, couldn't handle the hate from all of our fans?"

"Or did you just come to your senses and chicken out like a good little glitch?"

"You know you couldn't beat us even if you did race!"

"I…" she murmured.

"Oh, wait, stop the presses, everyone, Glenda the Good Glitch can speak!"

"Why don't we make her talk some more?"

"No!" she squeals, clutching the keyblade like her life depended on it (which, to be honest, it did). They only smiled sardonically at her cry.

One racer pulled her hair and one kicked her into the coco dirt, tossing her stolen keyblade aside like it was nothing.

"I'm not hearing any more words!"

"Talk, Glitchy, talk!"

"Yeah, what's the matter, dirt got your tongue?"

"Just say you'll back out of the tournament!"

"Yeah, say it!"

"Come on, just —"

The strange man from earlier jumped into the fight, twirling two chakrams expertly in his hands as he shoved the girl in too much pink to the side.

"Hey, I thought we had a de—"

"Get away from her!" he barked. They all got back on their keybade transformed vehicles and drove away.

She stayed face down in the dirt until Axel got worried they had actually killed her and shook her one good time. She sat up abruptly in surprise, then upon seeing the redhead, lowered her eyes. She took the keyblade in her arms, gave it one last squeeze, then offered it back to its owner.

When it didn't leave her hands for a time, she looked up to see his eyes closed and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry about those girls."

"Wha —? Why?"

"Because I led them to you."

"Oh. King Terra must've offered you money."

"Mhmm," he hummed, his eyelids still closed around his vibrant emerald eyes, "A lot of it."

"They probably would've found me on their own. They always do."

"They pick on you a lot?" he opened one eye and studied the raven-haired girl, whose azure gaze was still set on the coco dirt.

"Just as much as the money King Terra offered you."

"That's a lot." He deadpanned, opening both eyes now.

She nodded slowly.

"What about you? Not that I think you get picked on or anything in your game, I mean, you are a keyblade wielder after all, but —"

"Yeah," he sighed, "I guess you could say I was shunned in my own game."

"Oh. Why? I don't mean to pry, but I thought that since you had a keybla -"

"They really weren't that nice to me even-"

"But you're a keyblade wield —"

"I'm not!" he shouted suddenly, "I'm not a keyblade wielder! I stole it from that new Departure game they installed with the blue-haired sniper."

"…No."

"Pardon me?"

"You are a keyblade wielder. Because you worked for it, and you earned it. And there's something in your eyes that makes me absolutely certain. You are and have always been a keyblade wielder." She stuck out her hand, "I'm Xion."

"Axel," he said, taking up her small hand and giving it a good shake, "Sorry again about earlier. Kids can be cruel sometimes, am I right?"

"I'm used to it."

"Aren't we all? Back in my game I got a face full of dirt on an hourly basis."

"It doesn't feel very good."

"Preach it sister," he whistled, dusting the dirt off of her mint hoodie and wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "It feels the direct opposite of very good. Which is why I'm going to help you win that race. One of us at least should be picked up out of the dirt."

"No, no, you don't have to do that. It's your keyblade, you earned it. And it seemed like you really needed it, for whatever reasons. I'm fine, really."

"Kid. Lying is not a talent of yours," the right end of his lips slanted upwards as he handed the raven-haired girl the legendary blade, "I see the way you look at this thing. I can always find another one, I'm not too particular. But something tells me this one has your fancy."

She blushes and readily accepts it, despite the iron ball of guilt in her stomach.

He smiles wildly.

"The catch is, you gotta let me teach you how to ride it."