A/N: This fic is hereby back by popular demand after it was pulled form AFF when my account was deleted. I have gone back and re-written parts of it and fixed some of my mistakes, so hopefully it is better…I'm glad so many people liked this story, and My Life's a Soap Opera too. I figured that no one would remember them once they were gone, and surly they wouldn't actually go looking for them?

I was wrong, and I have never been happier to know that. Thank all of you who e-mailed and PMed me, telling me to get my lazy ass in gear and re-post this :D I hope you enjoy it as much the second time around!

Don't own Kingdom Hearts, or any of their associated names and other copywriten things….I own nothing but the oc's in this, and even then they don't technically belong to me, really….

I am un-sueable, since no one would get anything out of me if they tried. I'm broke.

Prologue

"You're nuts. I always knew you were nuts, but this just takes the cake. How do you plan on doing all of this at once? I have told you you're nuts, right?"

"Multiple times, dear, multiple times."

"I mean, for one thing," the first continues as if he hasn't heard his companion as he hovers behind her and peers over her shoulder. He curious despite what he is saying. "how are you going to get them where they need to be? They're all in the wrong places, and second of all- oh, and is second of all a doosy or what!- how will you choose the right people for them? If they don't catch their attention right away, you'll have a case of multiple homicide on your hands….."

"Trial and error."

"……"

"……"

"……"

"You know I was just kidding, right?"

"……"

"I was just kidding."

"….I don't put anything past you."

"I love you too, dear."

"I'm sure."

They both go back to watching the water in the large golden bowel in front of her. He is still leaning over her shoulder, making negative comments every now and then to the faces that appear in it's surface, until she comes upon one on which she stops.

" Him?"

"Him."

Arc One: Tail of the Siren

Part one: First Meetings at the Beach

"Would you like something to drink, sir?"

I glanced up form my book for what seemed like- and probably was- the first time since the plane had taken off. my eyesight blurred slightly as I focused on the pretty young girl standing patently in front of me with a cart covered in various liquids. She was smiling gently, something that the last stewardess hadn't done.

….Well, the last one had smiled, but to tell the truth, it had looked quite painful, and had given the impression that she would have rather been anywhere else at that moment.

I shook my head silently and her focus traveled to the guy sitting beside me. He smiled cheekily up at her form behind his computer screen, and her smile became a bit more forced. She probably expected him to make some kind of move on her, but instead he just ordered a who a coke and some kind of alcohol before focusing his attention back on the words he was typing out in his lap.

Sighing softly, I went back to my book. I wanted to get it done before we reached our destination, which I had a hundred and fifty pages left to read in--I checked my watch--forty-five minuets. Well, ok, maybe I wouldn't get it finished. I was a fast reader, but I wasn't superhuman. I figured I could get as much as possible in, however.

I was just finishing the third-to-last chapter by the time out wheels touched the runway. Tucking my book safely and neatly back into my carry-on, I stood silently and waited for an opening to present it's self in the line of people filing to the exit. Once one presented it's self, I slid carefully out, closely followed by the guy who had been seated next to me. He took one look around the air port as we stepped out into the bright, hot sun and began grumbling something unhappy sounding to himself.

I ignored him.

Once I was cringing in the glaring light and warm summer heat of the Greek Isle known as Santorini, I scanned the air port for the group of people I had come with. It only took me a moment to pick them out; My teacher's brightly colored dress stood out like a malfunctioning traffic light. Several of my classmates were already huddled around her, gazing at their surroundings in awe.

I didn't see why. It looked like any other airport runway; long strip of concrete and tar, concluding it's self at the white glass and concrete building behind us. I rolled my eyes discreetly to myself as I stopped a few feet away from them with one or two of my other companions, refusing to join in the mass huddle of gawking college students huddles around our professor.

What a bunch of idiots. It was like they had never seen a landing strip before.

Actually, It looked slightly barren, but that was just this part. It would probably be better once we got in the building.

That is, if everyone would just get there sorry asses together long enough to actually move without tripping over one another.

There were about fifteen of us on the trip. Not very many, by any means. It only took a minuet or two- one we finally got in the building- to get our luggage.

"Now." Out professor, Mrs. Mulligan, began as we stopped in the center of the crowded food court. "We are all staying at a hotel in Fira. It's only about twenty minuets form here. Also, we will have to get out money exchanged for Euros…" Most of the others were drowning her out in favor of twisting this way and that, searching, I have no doubt, for a McDonalds or something of that sort.

Conveniently, there was a place in the airport where we could exchange our American dollars for the common currency in Greece. On my way over, I accidentally bumped into someone who was headed in the opposite direction of me. It was barely a knock on the shoulder, but I heard him drop his things on the floor behind me. Since I was in a hurry to keep my class and I'm pretty sure my teacher was speed walking, I didn't even bother looking back, much less stopping to help. It was a minor incident, and almost immediately forgotten.

An hour and a half later, we were finally checking into the hotel that would be our home for the next three days, until we headed out to the next island on our list. We stopped and once again the majority huddled around as the professor explained the finer points of what she was expecting form us over the duration of our stay.

You see, we weren't here on vacation or anything. The class I was with was my Ancient Mythology class. We had traveled to Greece to "Take in the atmosphere of the place that created some of the most famous legends in the world."

Our professor was a very young woman, probably in her early thirties, with nicely cut and well kept blond hair sweeping about her shoulders, clear tan skin, and (I have to agree-grudgingly- with the majority of the boys in my class on this one) a nice and rather robust rack.

Unfortunately, she also had a sense of humor, as was evident in her lesson plan for this two week excursion she had taken us on.

We were going to travel among some of the Greek Isles, and for each Isle she had a game made up for us. "kind of a mix between a Scavenger hunt and a Riddle game." She had explained when questioned and had refused to elaborate further.

I tuned her out for the most part, since she had been repeating the same basic instructions for two weeks by this time. We were to share a room with one other person for cost efficiency, we were to carry cell phones at all times, which were to be kept fully charged and operational, and we were not supposed to leave the island or wander further than a two mile radius form the hotel in either direction.

I'm not rude, honest, I just don't like haring the same thing repeated more than once. It seems like a waste of time.

My musings (not daydreams, daydreams are frivolous wastes of time) were interrupted by a small white piece of paper being thrust under my nose. I prepared to glare menacingly at whatever idiot had invaded my very personal bubble, but realized at the last second that it was the professor herself. I quickly toned down my look to an annoyed glance as I took what ended up being my room assignment and key card from her. Nodding briefly, I gathered up my carry-on, suit case and book bag from the floor where I had dropped them to give my fingers and arms a chance to regain circulation, and walked gingerly to the stairs. It would be harder, but everyone else was going by elevator, and I would be damned to hell before I got into a tiny metal box with that many people.

Consequently, I was sweating a bit and may have been a little short of breath when I finally opened the plain white door bearing the shiny brass numbers 305 on the third floor. My room mate, a tall, sturdy looking blond, was already in the room pulling a new change of clothes form his own suitcase and setting them aside on the bed closest to the door. I made no comment as I swept past him to the other bed by the window. I was hoping to avoid unnecessary conversation, since I was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a social person. Luckily, the guy seemed to realize this when I didn't even so much as glance his way, and after a few silent awkward seconds he quietly went back to whatever it was that he had been doing when I had arrived.

I sat on my bed and ended up staring out the window, waiting for him to get done so we could go down together. (it was one of the professor's requests that we stay together at first so we wouldn't get lost, but I was planning on ditching him as soon as we were out of her sight.) In the distance, I could see the cliffs that led out to the ocean.

Santorini was in the shape of a backwards C with four smaller islands --Therasia, Nea Kameni, Palea Kameni, and Aspronisi -- in the lagoon it forms. It was an island with steep cliffs surrounding the beaches, caused by long since silenced volcanic activity, and many ports for the boats going between it and the other islands.

In a word (or three) it was beautiful. All of the rock formations were striped with red, white and grey layers of Volcanic sediment, creating gorgeous patterns.

Now if only it wasn't so damn sunny.

I heard the shuffling from Blondie's side of the room still for a moment before he announced that he was done and we could go downstairs now. His voice had a bit of an accent to it, and was deep and calm. I remembered hearing him speak out several times during class and remembered that he loved to make comments that he and some of my other school mates seemed to find witty.

Now that I thought about it, he was the type of person who generally annoyed me.

Goody.

I stood without comment and followed him to the elevator, thankful that it was just the two of us this time.

We were the last ones down, much to my great annoyance. When we reached the lobby, I sat on one of the large, stuffed armchairs. It was squishy and comfortable and I was rather pleased that I had gotten it before someone else, despite the fact that I was one of he last down. The others had taken up seats on one long couch in front of the television they had set up amongst some marble tables with vases filled with fake flower. The place was obviously supposed to look like a living room to make their guests feel more comfortable, but I figured that they would probably have an easier time of it if it didn't look like something out of a Victorian house form the seventeen hundreds…all stiff and formal.

For God's sake people, if you want 'relaxing' try using greens and blues…they're the colors that scientists say to use, not maroon and red….those colors supposedly make you hungry and giddy…

So unless you want a bunch of nervous people eating your couches, I would suggest you change your color scheme.

The sad thing is, I think they were going for 'elegant', but that's a little off topic.

"Now class!" the Professor cried excitedly (a little too excitedly, I noted with a wince. Why did she always have to be so damn cheerful?!) "I'm going to give you your assignments now-- no, don't groan, you don't even know what they are yet-- and you have the next three days to get them done before we go on to the next island and your next assignment…" here she reached into a plastic Wal-mart and began to pull out those little white paper bags that you get donuts in. They were stapled together at the top and had each of our names written across them in curly black sharpie.

I had honestly expected Zebra multi-colored pens, and wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed at being wrong.

"Now," she continued. "Don't open these until you are outside." Everyone exchanged curious looks and a moment of silence fell upon the group, since we were expecting her to say more as in regards to what the hell we were supposed to be doing

. She just blinked at all of us. "Well, off you go! I have sight seeing to do, and you are all old enough to take care of yourselves. Don't get kidnapped, don't get killed, and for heavens sakes, don't take candy from strangers. Now off with you!"

The silence became surprised and amused as she stood and strutted to the door of the hotel. She turned back around once her hand touched the door knob and called across the room to us. "Oh! And be back here at seven so we can all go out and eat dinner together, hmm?"

Then she was gone.

With one last confused, amused and exceedingly pleased look at each other, everyone had cleared the hotel in less than a minuet.

Well, Everyone but me. I still sat on the chair, a small frown on my face, wondering how the hell I had ended up with a teacher who didn't just give us a book and a test like all of the others. After a moment's speculation, I figured that it was just my luck (if you believed in such a thing, anyway) and that this was my lot and I would have to deal with it, like it or not.

Opening the bag slowly, I looked in, blinked, took the items out, just to be sure I hadn't seen them wrong, and blinked again.

In my hand was two sheets of paper and a small disposable Camera.

What….the hell?

Setting down the green and white striped flashy thing of doom (I hated cameras as I had never really seen myself as photogenic) on the glass coffee table, I opened the thicker sheet of paper. (One was a piece of regular notebook paper, the other was some heavier printer paper.) It read;

Dear Class,

I have thought up some fun little riddles for all of you. Solve the riddle and go the place or thing designated by the answer. Have someone take a picture of you with the thing or place. When our little trip is over, I will collect the cameras and have the photos developed. If you have a photo of everything on the list I gave you (WITH YOU IN IT!) Then you will get a good grade. Anything less and you fail. They aren't that hard! And you CAN ask for help!

Love,

your Adoring Teacher

Smoochies! 3

If I hadn't been in Greece, I would have asked for a class transfer right then and there.

She signed with 'Smoochies!' and a heart, for God's sake!

Sighing I picked the other piece of paper up and tucked the camera away in my shoulder bag that I always carried with me. I stood and made my way outside to the busy streets, people walking past me on the sidewalk, tourists and natives alike. Pulling out my map of the island (I had bought it at the airport) I noted that the island was too big for her to expect us to go running around it and still get our pictures, so that meant that the things she wanted the pictures to be of had to be in the general area. I pulled out the notebook paper and scanned it. There were three riddles neatly printed on it. I frowned as I read over them, dancing out of the way of trampling feet as I did so. They read

1. I have caused several earthquakes

It's theorized I have caused Tsunamis

I should be painfully obvious and right in your line of site, no matter where you look.

What am I?

2. When I'm dried I make a tasty treat.

Here, you will see more of me as an aged liquid.

When growing, I am in the shape of a basket.

What am I?

3. I was once feared by the sailors of Greece,

But I was once defeated with beeswax.

Beware of me when sailing.

Who am I?

I arched an eyebrow. These were supposed to be riddles? They looked like they were written by a bored student with nothing to do but write stories about characters from a video game, or something. Snorting, I almost stuffed them back into my pocket. But, if I didn't follow the instructions, then I would get a failing grade. Oh, what's a boy to do?

Le sigh.

I skimmed the 'clues' again. I could probably solve them rather quickly, if I had wanted to really think about it. But honestly, I didn't. Why put that much brain power into it? Besides, it would require studying the island and walking around, which is what I'm sure she was after, but I would much rather do it my own way and then study for a book test.

I stopped at the third 'clue.' I was more than willing to bet that she was referring to the lagoon. (As if she could be any more or less obvious, what with all the sailing references…) The part about fear and beeswax kept pulling at my mind, telling me it was familiar and I should really know what it meant (don't you just hate that feeling, like you know you are forgetting something very important, but, since you are forgetting it, you haven't got a clue as to what it is? It doesn't happen to me often, but when it does, like at that particular point in time, it drives me nuts.)

Heaving a very put-upon, mental sigh, I headed in the directions of the cliffs I had seen form my window. Might as well see if I could get down to the water and take a look anyway. Something I see, I figured, might jog my memory. It wasn't like it was a long walk, anyway, and it seemed as good a place as any to start.

The cliffs were very high. On average, about two hundred meters from top to bottom, and while not impossible to scale or to descend, from where I was standing looking down, it looked very, very steep. I would have to be careful going down or I would end up a pile of broken bones at the bottom with several painful hours between my fall and potential rescue.

I worked my way carefully around a rather large rock that was protruding in my way. The going was a little rough considering the slope was covered in loose pieces of rock and the breeze was a bit stronger and constantly changing direction. At one point it even blew up, right at me.

I hadn't been planning on going far down the cliffs. I have this thing about water, and no matter how pretty it was, I wasn't willing to get to close, especially when I was alone. But as that gust of cool salt air hit me, I heard it; a faint, lilting whisper that was gone almost as soon as it was there. I stood still for a moment, straining to hear it again. The disappointment I felt when the cove remained elusively silent was exceedingly disproportionate with the cause.

I battled with myself, since I was really unwilling to risk descending much further down steep, loose rock, but my curiosity was beginning to get the better of me. No boat could have made that sound. No, it had sounded more like a human voice, but from my rather spectacular vantage point, I could see no one on the small strip of sand below me.

But, a small, unused voice called contagiousness in the back of my mind whispered, surly going down just a little further wouldn't hurt anything, if I was careful. Biting my cheek, I slide and slipped down a couple more feet. Still, nothing of the elusive sound no singer came to view nor ear. I was just about to give up when another blast of cool air hit me and I heard it again, this time much closer. The soft, lilting voice drifted mournfully up to me, almost begging me to find it's source. My cause renewed, I figured that just a little further couldn't possibly hurt, even as the wind changed again and the sound slipped away like smoke.

Slipping my way a little further, I decided that this was defiantly a better past time than looking for things that grow in the shape of baskets. This was interesting. My 'assignment' ….well …wasn't. So instead of turning back the first time I felt a sharp, warning pain form my ankle as it slid the wrong way out from under me like I normally might have, I kept going.

The going got annoying somewhere between the sixth and seventh time I nearly twisted my ankle, but every time I considered just giving up and going back to the hotel or the city, the breeze would go my way again and I would catch a snatch of that sound, and my curiosity renewed, along with a feeling that, no matter if I died in the process, I just had to find to find the source of the song…I just wanted to see this person….

I had to see this person. The desire was becoming all but mind consuming.

Soon, I was low enough to make out the fact that the song was in a language that I didn't know, though I knew several. Maybe it was Greek? That would, after all, make sense.

It was sad. Oh so very sad. Though I couldn't understand the words, I knew that the story the song told did not have a happy ending. Just the way it was sung had my heart aching.

It was probably a good thing that I was only a few feet from the beach by this point, because it was about then that I made a miscalculation in my footing and tripped, tumbling the last ten or so feet down the slope, loose rock racing me to the bottom. I ended up in a heap in the soft, slightly rocky sand at the foot of the incline, covered in dirt, cuts and bruises, but, to my relief, otherwise unharmed.

I was also thinking clearer because the little cove I was in was eerily silent.

The singing had stopped.

Sitting up, I winced as I felt my neck pop slightly.

"owwie…." I grumbled, looking my self over, checking the lightly bleeding cuts that lined my arms and gently poking places that I just knew would be lovely shades of black and blue the next day. I was prodding around my face, where I was sure there would be some fantastic marks later as I stood gingerly. I sighed in relief as I found that I was able to put my weight on both of my legs without any pain.

It was then that the absence of singing actually crept into my mind and registered as wrong. This wasn't really surprising-though it was disappointing- since my impromptu trip had been rather noisy, and probably would have scared the living daylights out of anyone who thought they were alone.

I looked up from gingerly dusting off my pants to see if the source of the object of my little quest was still even around, though I couldn't really imagine how they would have slipped past me, distracted though I was.

The first thing I saw was a pair of Sea Green eyes staring, startled and curious, back at me from a rock two or so yards out from where the sand disappeared into the water. This took a moment to register as well.

(I think the fall had scrambled my brains a bit.)

I blinked.

The eyes blinked back.

As I recovered form my initial surprise, I finally took in the sight of the person that the eyes were connected to. It was a male,-as was made obvious by the fact that he was not wearing a shirt. (Of course, it was either that, or he had the flattest chest on a woman I had ever seen).

Was he the person that had been singing that beautiful song?

He had the plush yet angular face of a young teenager. His large, bemused eyes, made wider by the surprise of having someone drop in on him so suddenly, gave him a youthful, childish appearance. (I was willing to label him somewhere between the ages of fifteen and seventeen.) His hair was a dark, dirty blond, long in the back, but swept up and short on the sides and the front, creating a hairstyle you might expect to see on a kid at a rock concert. Some of the hair, in an act of hair-type rebellion, I suppose, had escaped whatever it was he had used to make it stand on end like that. The soft tendrils were falling in his face and around his high cheekbones, rounding them off and giving them a soft look to match the rest of his face.

His chest, arms and stomach, in contrast, were devoid of the baby fat his face still possessed. While he was lean enough for me to be able to see the vaguest outline of his ribcage, he had the build of a powerful swimmer.

I couldn't see much past his hips because of the way he was sitting on the rock with his legs folded over beside him and dipping down to the water, no doubt soaking his feet in the strong, foamy waves. What I could see were the sharp, angular bones of his hips and that the swim trunks he was wearing turned from grey to a stormy blue, and back again as the water around him shifted. I wondered what kind of material it was. It looked almost like it had been made of scales.

It was kind of cool.

It took me only a moment to note all of this and store it away in my mind for later possessing. We just stared at one another for a few moments more before I lifted my hand in a half-assed wave, figuring that if I was going to try and get him to sing again, staring silently wasn't the way to go.

"Hey." I mumbled, trying not to sound to enthusiastic, or like some idiotic tourist that had bumbled his way down a slope in some idiotic attempt to get some culture.

The effect was instantaneous, but no the kind I really wanted. The boy jumped as if he had been electrocuted and slid off the rock, diving straight into the water.

I opened my mouth to try and reassure him, calm him down, get him to stay, but the words died in my throat before they even got a chance to live.

"Was that…..a tail?"