The sun was setting on the island of Oahu. It had been another beautiful day on the Hawaiian Islands, drawing hundreds of locals and tourists to the sandy shores to soak up the sun or play in the water. Now, however, the beaches were silent, save for the soft rush of water on sand as the waves broke gently over the various shells and pebbles that littered the beach. Sand castles and foot prints had been washed away hours ago with the rising tide and seagulls had cleaned up any leftovers from the beach-goers. Everything glowed a faint red from the brilliant sunset, all oranges and yellows, fiery reds and soft pinks. The sun was a ball of molten gold in the sky, only about a hands width from the horizon line. It reflected almost painfully on the water, which shimmered and sparkled as the wind tossed the water around, creating some sizeable swells.

It was a beautiful sight to behold, but surprisingly only one figure stood on the beach. The mysterious person stood with his back to the tropical forest that marked the end of the beach and appeared to be staring out at the open sea. He was dressed in a long black cloak and had the hood pulled up over his head, hiding his face from the sun. A zipper that ran the length of the cloak, as well as a few silver chains that dangled from various places near the neck of the cloak caught the setting sun and flashed as the wind blew gently, making them shift against his chest. Finally, after a few minutes of standing motionless in the sand, the man lifted a gloved hand and pushed back his hood.

One golden eye locked on the dancing water as if entranced. Xigbar lowered his hand and clasped his hands behind his back, once again going still. He wondered if Xemnas had sent him on this mission knowing it would drag up memories he had thought he had lost. Memories of a better time, when all that mattered to him was testing out some new hypothesis or disproving one of his friend's theories. None of this foolish Kingdom Hearts business. Back then, back when he was still Braig, he had had a life. A pretty solitary life outside of the other apprentices, but a life all the same. Whenever he wasn't working with the other apprentices, he had always gone to the nearest beach to catch a few waves. Surfing had been his release, his way of relaxing, his escape from the mundane world. Feeling the power of the water beneath him and managing to control it, to ride along a breaking wave had given him a feeling of accomplishment. Every time he lost his balance or was thrown off by an odd change in the water, he would paddle right back out and wait for another wave to come along that he could try to master. Braig had never given up easily, always ending each surfing session by riding one wave until it was only a wall of foam moving towards the beach. That was when he would call it a day and return to the lab coats and experiments.

Now, though, he had a different job. No more test tubes and note taking. Now he was sent out on missions to collect hearts, recruit people for the slowly growing Organization, and make sure their plans were not interrupted. He didn't have many memories of his past life, but the few he did have made him long for his heart and to return to what he loved.

A seagull trilled in the air above Xigbar, making him blink and snap out of his little trip down nostalgia lane. A gentle breeze made his grey-streaked ponytail sway for a moment, but otherwise Xigbar remained motionless. It was as if he was frozen to the spot, unable to look away from the water that seemed to be calling out to him, begging him to come back. It had been far too many years since he had felt a surf board under his bare feet, he knew, but even though he dreamed about riding the waves again he never really had had the opportunity. There were no oceans in The World That Never Was and every time he was sent out of the Castle he was on strict orders to return right away. This mission, however, had been more of a scouting job to see what condition this world was in. He could take his time.

Quite suddenly Xigbar jerked his head to the left, having spotted something out of the corner of his eye. There, stuck in the sand, was a surfboard. It looked a bit beat-up from where he was standing, but that just meant whoever owned it rode quite a bit. The bottom had scratches – from coral or rocks, he assumed. He knew what it was like to surf over something that wasn't water. He had quite a few scars, including the one on his face, to prove it – and one of the fins on the bottom was chipped. The bright orange and red colors had faded from being in the sun. To him, however, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Without a second thought Xigbar headed over to it, sinking in the sand as he approached due to his boots. He stopped a few feet from it but didn't bother to glance around. He had no idea why someone had left this here, but he wasn't about to ask questions to the open air. Instead he began pulling off his black gloves and jacket, both of which were tossed unceremoniously to the sand. Soon his boots were discarded, leaving him in the uniform pants all the Organization members wore. They were pretty skin-tight and ended a few inches past the knee, just so the top of the black boots could overlap and hide any skin. With a heave the surfboard was pulled from the sand and the Freeshooter walked down to the water.

It took only a few minutes for Xigbar to paddle out to the deeper water, his skill and technique returning almost instantly. It was like riding a bike: once you know how you never forget. Once he was satisfied with his distance from the shore, he sat up with his legs dangling on either side of the board and watched the open sea. He knew that dusk was a horrible time to swim or surf, since the sharks were active, but he really didn't care. What was one more scar? They couldn't kill him so he really didn't have to worry.

Xigbar finally saw against the nearly set sun a few swells that looked promising. He quickly turned himself around and started to paddle, faster this time to keep ahead of the wave. A rush of adrenaline flowed through his veins as he felt the board catch the front of the wave and he jumped to his feet, staying low to keep his center of gravity close to the board. The familiar position and sensations made his mind slide back to one of the few memories he had of his old life and for just a few minutes he was Braig again. There was no Superior to report to, no hearts to collect, no new recruits to train. Just him, the board, and the water.

Sweet, sweet release.