Kingdom Hearts:Birth by Sleep:Destiny's Recall

by Eternal Symphonia

This is the untold story of the three who started it all.Terra,Aqua,and Ven are apprentices under an unamed and unseen master who has sent them to find Master Xehanort and his own student. Truly, not all secrets can be buried within the ravages of time.

1. 1:1:1 A Hero of Hillbilly Proportions

Kingdom Hearts:Birth by Sleep~Destiny's Recall~Book 1(Ven's Story, Part 1), Chapter 1~A Hero of Hillbilly Proportions~

NOTE, PLEASE READ!!!: As you can see, this is definitely NOT Birth by Sleep Zero at all. This is another Birth by Sleep theory story based on what I NOW think will happen in Birth by Sleep, since a lot of new information has been released. Like, for example, WHICH MAKES ME REALLY MAD, the Unbirths are actually now going to be called the UNVERSED in the English version of Kingdom Hearts:Birth by Sleep. From what I've collected, it seems to mean Un-Versed, in the old fashion meaning of "versed", which means "knowledgeable". So technically their name means the "un-knowledgeable". Of what, I do not know. Also, a few new worlds have been released, which were not included in my original plans for the story. So, I am beginning anew, but I will also continue BBS Zero at the same time for those who really enjoy reading about porcupine and Geezernort. But don't worry, I will surely add humor to this one. Any story of mine without any comedy at all is not what I aim for. Also, Nomura has given us a subtle description of Aqua's behavior and personality, which was almost somewhat different from the one I originally gave her in BBS Zero. My main goal is to create the most ACCURATE story close enough to the real game, and guessing from the newest information, my first one is FAR OFF. Thank you my loyal readers, that is all. Please enjoy the first chapter of Kingdom Hearts:Birth by Sleep~Destiny's Recall Book 1! I hope to see a few reviews. Just to let you know, this time I'm starting off with Ventus.

Toodles,

Eternal Symphonia

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything in the script except for my own characters. The rest belongs to mister change-his-mind-all-of-the-time Nomura and Disney.

There he was again, glaring at me in deep concentration with those sulphuric yellow eyes. No. Amber. His irregular irises were slightly more orange than gold; the color of rich, thick, honeylike amber, seemingly oozing with interest like that of which sap oozes from the trunk of a heady pine.

These past few weeks have been quite strange, and not just because my best friend Dirk was excited about today, the very last day of school before summer vacation. In fact, he was probably only the second weirdest thing that existed during that whole period of time, beaten only by that creepy stalker of mine. Yeah, you heard me: my creepy stalker. You know, the one whose eyes look like dog pee? The one I just mentioned? Yeah, him. He had watched us every time we were outside and not in school or the candy shop, or some other kind of building. Though, I did catch him sneaking around my backyard last night while I was trying to fall asleep, which wasn't very easy in the first place since it was the night before the last day of school. It didn't help that he decided to climb up the linden tree by my window also and beam at me like one of those emotionless robots in all of the movies. Things like that bothered the hell out of me, like when someone stares at me for no reason. Well at least any reason that I could think of.

Back to Dirk Yorume, he had been extremely hyper recently, so ecstatic that he had called me about three nights ago at one in the morning to invite me to come and play video games. Don't get me wrong, it was pretty fun staying up late kicking ass with Halo 3, but I have to admit it was downright stupid. At least I didn't have any parents to get mad at me for doing things like that. Not that I took advantage of it, but if I did, I assume it wouldn't have been pretty when I got home at four in the morning and my father and mother were standing right there by the door with their hands on their hips, ready to break out the punishments.

A blink. His eyelids flickered over his flaming irises as he glared vacantly from his position in the nearby trees. My eyes instantly darted over to him, devouring his appearance in apprehensive bites. From the depths of the shadows that encased his frail body, I could make out an almost formed maniacal grin carved into his face. It was as if he was making fun of me, laughing because he could feel the overwhelming waves of fear and alarm radiating off of my body. This caused me to cock my head to the side in contemplation of his creepiness.

A rustle erupted from the oak he stood in as I watched him do the exact same, another evil smirk forming.

He was actually mocking me.

"Did you hear m-hey, whatcha looking at?" Dirk's dirty blond hair and emerald eyes snatched my attention as he popped into view.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just thought I saw something in the trees." I lied through my gritted teeth. Even if I did tell Dirk the truth about what I saw, he would've just cackled in delight and put it off as it a weird joke I was trying to pull. I thought that it would be better to let him think I was dozing off into space. Dirk turned his head to the spot I had been fixated on. His shoulders went up and down like the waves of the ocean as he shrugged, "I don't think there's anything there."

See? I told you. Dirk never believed me when I said something. In fact, even though he's my best friend and does it all the time, I absolutely despise it. Absolutely hate it to death.

"But-yeah, you're right." I fibbed once again, definitely unwillingly. But I guess I didn't want to sound like a hallucinating freak. Even though I reassured myself that I was just seeing things again, something in my soul told me otherwise. I don't really know what that "something" was. My conscience maybe? I dunno. All I knew was that I was being watched like a hawk by that sinister, loco, odd-eyed creeper, which, judging by his wonderful posture was someone with back problems as bad as Quasimodo's or an old geezer. Probably both.

Dirk's chocolate and snow colored house loomed ahead on the quaint path over a little bit from Market Street. All of his other friends addressed it as the "Oreo" house, referring to the cocoa and cream flavored sandwich cookie.

"See ya tomorrow, Ven." Dirk farewelled in his usual, somewhat slurred, slangy tone as he made his way towards his home at a fast pace.

I yelled to him, "But I thought we were supposed to-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know I promised that we'd eat ice cream on the clock tower today, but Yamada begged me to come to the annual little Struggle tournament they have every year on the last day of school. And I didn't really want to bail out on him, so..."

I knew it. Dirk had abandoned me again to hang out with Yamada. I wasn't jealous or anything, but it was getting kind of annoying having him ignore me every single time we were supposed to hang out to go and bid to his other friend's wishes for that day. Of course, Dirk didn't want to bail out on Yamada, but he sure doesn't mind doing it to me.

Fine, then. I'll eat ice cream by myself. Maybe that creepy guy will come along and kidnap me so you don't have to make any excuses anymore. I sneered silently. I didn't even answer to Dirk's smirking little face before I stormed away with a trail of steam pouring out from the top of my head like one of those smokestacks, my messenger bag's top flap flitting around in the wind.

"You can come, if you want!" Dirk offered from his twenty foot distance.

I didn't answer him. I just kept walking into the trademark setting sun of Twilight Town as I headed for my own house to drop off my backpack.

My home was just a few streets away from Dirk's, so it only took me about ten minutes to make it there.

When I got to the part of the street in front of my house, I fidgeted around my book bag for my keys and headed up my khaki driveway at the same time. Instead of entering the code for my garage, I just headed up the cobblestone path off to the side that led to the front door and jammed my house key into the keyhole in anger. It took a few tries to get it right, as it always did, but I finally managed to unlock the door and enter my entryway.

The usual smell of dirty socks and cologne didn't seem to smell as bad that day as it usually did. Maybe because I had cleaned up a bit and did some laundry just twenty four hours before. I contemplated the possible reasons as I kicked my black with red straps over the top shoes into the corner next to the front door. Typical of my one-hundred year old house, the stairs matched all of the other eerie noises and creaked like a rocking chair on each step. I could even feel the wood under the cream carpet bending under my weight, which was pretty sad considering I only was about one hundred and ten pounds and had absolutely no muscles at all.

The first room that you walked into after making your way up the flight of stairs was my tan and orange themed living room. The space was pretty much just a square that had an onyx leather couch in the back with a matching TV near the windows on the opposite side of the room. Nestled underneath the ten-inch box was a PS2 and Wii console standing next to each other with their controllers set on the floor to the right. On the left were stacks of games and cases all in neat rows. That was the weird part about me: I never kept my room or anything else that neat except for my games.

Mounted to the far left of the television was a dark brown pine cabinet that held a lamp on its smooth top and a cordless phone. On the left wall of the living room was an oak and linden bookcase that held mostly a bunch of manga and comics. That was another thing that I kept in order, my comic books. Still don't know why, though. The walls of the TV room were a pale, orangish cream along with a white ceiling that had those spiky dots that rubbed off if you poked at them with your feet, which I did very often when I was bored. On the open side coming from the stairs, there was two cushy navy blue chairs, which didn't fit the rest of the room at all. But I didn't care; none of that stuff concerned me like it did most people. As long as I had a nice seat to plunk down in when I felt like it, I was a happy camper. On the back wall next to the couch was a doorway leading into my plain white bathroom, while opposite of the wall on the left was a hallway leading to some more stairs, which gave way to another bathroom and two bedrooms, one of them being my crimson and white colored room.

The most bizarre thing about my old house was that the kitchen was in the basement, which was led to by a minuscule spiral staircase coming from the entryway. Otherwise, that was it. That was my whole house. Not very big, I guess, but big enough for me.

When I was done tossing my backpack on the couch in my living room, I headed towards the bathroom near my bedroom and looked in the mirror. I was wearing my usual outfit which consisted of a sleeveless black undershirt-like vest and a silver zipper in the middle. The collar of that shirt overlapped the one of my second layer of clothing. Over the top was my signature creamy-white short jacket that had checkered print emblazoned on my chest in a horizontal line and more checkered print in two vertical lines on each side, stretching from the very bottom of my shoulders to the depths of my underarms. Two giant pockets hung off of either side of my stomach, holding lint and no munny. My pants were probably the most simple part of my daily uniform. On the top it was a light black with two pockets that matched the ones on my light jacket. Below, they cut off and connected to the faint gray bottoms of my jeans. As I said before, my shoes were charcoal and ash with silver ribbing on the lower part of the edges and the undersides. Blood colored straps criss-crossed over the top of my feet. Most of the people I knew gawked at my outfit almost every single day, but I didn't really take much notice. All I knew was that I was okay and comfortable with it, so I shouldn't care about what others thought of it. This thought rang throughout my suddenly aching head as I made my way into my room to grab some munny for the ice cream I was going to enjoy alone. Without Dirk and his cheesy and dumb new best friend.

My screen door creaked not unlike my stairs when I headed out into the open sunlight with the main intention to grab a popsicle and sit on the clock tower for maybe half an hour, then walk around doing nothing and avoiding the sandlot: I assumed that was where Dirk and Yamada were.

Repulsion shot through my heart when I saw some kids from my school on some of their bikes, enjoying the last day of school. And of course, it was the very ones who decided that I was a great geek to pick on. Even before they noticed I was there I knew that my day was going to turn out even worse than I had thought previously.

As expected, the group leader was a popular guy named Drennin who thought his crap didn't stink. All of the other girls at school just fell to the ground in his "beautiful" presence and oohed for longer than they should've. I don't know why, though. His face was like a monkey butt's and the back end of a dirty trailer combined, and don't even get me started on the raunchy breath he owned. His twisted brown eyes squinted with anticipation at the sight of me all alone and helpless. He motioned to his gang of retards, mumbling a few words to them. Probably something to the extent of, "Durrrrr! Let's go have some fun beating the crap out of that little blondie kid with that geeky name, Ventus." I could just imagine all of his "followers" agreeing and saying, "Oh sure! Let's go ruin his day even more. That's sounds fun, durrrrr! Hardy har har, it's so fun picking on Ventus Toshi, huh?"

The look on Drennin's ugly face forced adrenaline to pump through my veins, giving me the courage to actually think about fighting back this time. Not just letting him wail on me and give me a black eye to remember him by. All of that bravery dissipated when the muscular teen leaped off of his bike and let it skid to the graffiti covered wall nearby. His lackeys all followed and circled me, pinning me in a small space up against another wall that was part of a random girl's clothing store. A few clique chicks inside saw what was happening and came out to cheer him on.

"How's it going, Toshi?" Drennin asked slyly in his deep, dying cow voice while cracking his knuckles, obviously in high hopes of a wonderful fight. His short cut greasy brunette hair was blown to the side as a great gust of wind blew through the alley we were in, bringing the common scents of summer air and a perfume of food. Crusty and crooked teeth glinted inside of his mouth as the sun's rays peeked out of an overpassing cloud, casting off a brownish yellow glow due to his lack of brushing.

I sputtered out a dopey sounding, "Uh..."

"I didn't actually mean that I cared, you retard. Ha, ha, ha! What a stupid little buttface! Right guys?" He turned to his cronies and cackled. They all followed suit.

I'm the buttface? Sheesh, has he even looked in the mirror lately? Wait, he couldn't of, he already cracked it. I didn't dare say it loud, but I still couldn't help splitting a grin at my own joke. Drennin noticed this and snorted, "Whatcha laughin' at?"

Another surge of boldness crackled from my fingertips like lightning as I muttered quietly, "Your face."

Drennin just stood there in utter awe and chagrin as my words sunk in. A wave of gasps erupted from the crowd of kids behind him, unbelieving that anyone had been able to stand up to him. He probably couldn't reply because no one had ever told him that before to avoid getting their teeth turned worse than his. But I was so sick of being bullied that I didn't care whether or not if he didn't agree with me; I had gotten enough grief from him in the past.

"Y-you wanna say that...again, little runt?"

This time I didn't hold back and repeated loudly enough for him to hear through his thick ego, "Your face."

All I saw for the next few moments was a scene unfolding in fuzzy, but still legible pictures. Him slamming me against the wall along with some of his friend and myself struggling constantly. His fist raising and shooting towards my face. Uncomfortable washes of pain blowing through my head, all coming from my nose where he had landed a blow. A triumphant smirk forming on his face along with the cheering of the watchers behind him. A bunch of other kids coming up and pinning me down and kicking me. Drennin getting ready to smash his fist into my forehead again. Another ongoing salute from the crowd. Myself bracing for another hit. A hand flying in front of the boy's and stopping him dead in his tracks.

Wait...What?

"Leave him alone." A deep command echoed throughout the whole alley and caused an empty silence to form. I watched this man's fingers curl around the bully's fist and tighten. Drennin started to shake uncontrollably as he stared onwards at my defender.

Blood seeped into my mouth and caused the slight taste of iron to tickle at my throat. He had got me right in the middle of my nose. The ache from the burning caused my recently small headache to rise into something worse.

Drennin spoke haltingly with apparent audacity, "What the hell are you doing? This isn't any of your business!"

His tone still eerily calm, my guardian spoke back with a slight tinge of anger, "I said, leave him alone."

"You can't stop me, so get out of the way! Come on, you guys, let's get him!" Drennin waved over at the intervener and sent all of the crowd after him. They all monstrously shoved him into the wall and started to beat the crap out of his entire being. But surprisingly, he didn't fight back, didn't even wince from the onslaught of attacks. I stared at the guy in astonishment. He seemed to be almost six feet tall, maybe even a little more, and had huge muscles all over his chest and arms. I mean, you know, maybe not huge muscles, but enough to put up a better fight than he was now. His hair was really dark brown and was spiky enough to stab someone's eye out. Well, I guess my blond hair could've, too. But his was at least as bad as mine. I couldn't really see what he was wearing since he was covered head to toe with people and crazy teens except for a few tinges of black and red.

My defender finally began to let the pain get to him as he wailed to the heavens in agony. Drennin also screamed, but not for the same reason. Instead, it was because of his sense of victory over the one who was much taller and bigger than him.

Even from my distance I could see the determination in my "friend's" cobalt blue eyes. Pure, hard, relentless, perseverance seeping out through his irises coming from the depths of his heart. He was an utterly strong person, not just physically, but also spiritually .

"What's the matter? Can't fight back? What a stupid weakling!"

Through the gritted teeth of the strange man I could hear the words, "I'm not the weakling here."

"Excuse me?" Everyone paused their beatings to hear the conversation between the two. "Did you just call me a weakling?"

The teenage boy with a black eye and many bruises said nothing and smirked a deformed grin due to the many abrasions on his face. This seemed to scare Drennin, causing him to give an order to his flunkeys, "Come on. This guy's no fun anymore; we can finish him off later." And with that the whole group flitted away in fear of the sturdy opposer, half on bikes and half on foot.

Abused and weakened, the brunette fell to the ground from the wall and watched as a few droplets of crimson fell from his nose and mouth. His pink tongue was swept back and forth a few times to clear it all away. I was still sitting on the street in shock when he got up and gently patted his hand on my shoulder, accidentally irritating one of my bruises. When I flinched he instantly flung his hand away and

"Are you okay?" He asked in concern, completely ignoring his own wounds and staring at mine in alarm.

"Am I okay? Dude, I only got slugged once. I'm the one who should be asking if you're okay."

His laugh catapulted into the sky and upwards as he cackled in agreement, "Well, I guess I am. I mean, I'm still breathing, aren't I?" My hair genuinely flicked back into place when I rubbed it in embarrassment, "I think so."

"Well, anyway, I've got to get going. Make sure not to get in another fight with that boy again. I just might not be around."

Now that I took the time to actually look at him I could tell that he must not have been from around here. His clothes were even weirder than mine; the pants he donned were beige and had many folds around them. At the very top part it was covered by a thick band of gray fabric with a black ribbon interlacing between some loops. This strip of black came out in the front and was tied a few times around a strange, golden, heart-like symbol, leading to the extra amount of ribbon on each side. As his pants crawled down his legs, they eventually gave more space between the material and his ankles. Technically, they looked kind of like bell bottoms. No, those pants the Samurai used to wear in ancient Japan. What were they called? Hakama, that was it. They were samurai hakama.

On top of his apparel was a plain ebony stretch shirt that showcased his chest muscles and formed short sleeves on either side. Straps the color of a cardinal in the middle of Winter criss-crossed his chest and back, forming an "X" on both. They seemed to come up from underneath the gray part of his pants. I guessed that it was the only thing holding them up, kind of like suspenders. On his right arm was an onyx armband that reminded me of my own checkered one. Strange armor that was colored gold, red, and black shackled his left and led to a fingerless, elastic obsidian glove. Probably the most unnoticeable part of this oddball clothing was his shoes: simply black with tawny yellow metal straps crossing over the top and bottoms.

If I didn't know any better, I would've thought that this dude was the exact definition of a hillbilly, knight, and a samurai warrior mixed together

Talk about different time periods...

As he paced away in a slow, steady limp I mentally noted everything about his outfit so that if I saw him again I could thank him, since I had forgotten to in my daze. That kind of made me feel bad; he had the snot beaten out of himself for me and I didn't even mumble a "thanks for saving me" in return. Oh well. As I said before, I could just say it if we crossed paths ever again. When I glanced back up at the last spot I had seen him, he was entirely gone.

That was weird...I concluded with mystery clouding my head. How could he have gotten away so fast? He couldn't of ran nor flew from this area. First of all, he was limping the last time I looked at him, and second of all, normal people can't fly.

A flashback of the recent fight flared in my mind's eye, sending chills through my being:

Drennin waved over at the intervener and sent all of the crowd after him. They all monstrously shoved him into the wall and started to beat the crap out of his entire being. But surprisingly, he didn't fight back, didn't even wince from the onslaught of attacks. Even from my distance I could see the determination in my "friend's" cobalt blue eyes. Pure, hard, relentless, perseverance seeping out through his irises coming from the depths of his heart. He was an utterly strong person, not just physically, but also spiritually.

That guy...he was so powerful. He didn't even flinch when at least twenty people who were bound and determined to pulverize him all banded together and willingly assaulted without mercy. That thought stayed with me as I got myself back together, rubbing the few bruises I gained from my previous predicament. I counted them all...maybe about fifteen considerably sized ones and fewer that didn't give all that much discolor to my skin. As I made my way back home I pondered even more about the brunette hero that had saved me from Drennin's little clan of assholes. What had made the decision for him to help me out?

Maybe he really was a hero. Someone who protected the innocent without second thought nor haste. Someone who was courageous and performed brave deeds or acts that benefited mankind and the universe. Someone who fought the Darkness with the powers of Light. Someone who I wish I could be. Someone that is everything that I'm n-

The truth was that I dearly hoped to be a true warrior of good, not just some little spiky-haired, full of spunk kid who acted like nothing could defeat him. That boy who had shielded me was what I had always wanted to be: one who protects the weak without needing to be begged. But, as I thought about it further, I realized that that dream would never come true. I would always be the same old Ventus Toshi who had to cower behind another just to make sure that I would see tomorrow. Truthfully, I wanted it to be a fact that I was making the sacrifices and being admired by others for who I was. That was what I truly wanted to be...a hero.

Now, you may say, "Why don't you actually try to be a good-doer instead of pretending that you have?". Well, I've got news for you: I have tried to be a protagonist that everyone holds in high regard. At the very least I've aimed at being a great friend to someone. But that didn't work out since Dirk wasn't letting me do so. That's another thing I needed: real best buds who didn't betray me and discard me because someone whose name starts with a "Y" told him to.

I think I've been reading way too many comics. I was letting this guy's kind actions get to my head. He probably wasn't a hero or anything of that sort. Probably just a passerby who descended upon the scene because he thought it his duty to stop me from being torn apart into pieces by a bunch of harassing tards, nothing more than that. But something kept me from completely believing my excuse: How did he get away that fast?

As I tried to manage to come up with some explanation that would fling that guy's description into the category of 'normal', my view of the outside world fizzled away. For once, I just kept walking off to an unknown destination and let the whole entire day's events flash inside my head like a commercial on TV without thinking about anything. This reminded me of Dirk, who had previously gotten rid of me to hang out with annoying Yamada.

I thought to myself bitterly, Stupid Dirk. Some friend you are...

Speaking of him, I first noticed the golden haired teen when I saw him and his new best friend heading for the nearby candy shop. During my empty-headed, brisk paced walk, I must've let my feet guide me to Tram Common, for the area I was in was so recognized by me that I could have told you the amount of rusty colored bricks that lined the streets within a second. Baron von Dirk of Ditchville was pulling out his trademark cream pouch of munny and giggling about something to the boy next to him. From my position I could recognize his hard, spiked back, chock full of styling gel charcoal hair and unique cerulean highlights that edged the bottom of every single strand. The everyday clothing of Yamada consisted of pure black skinny jeans and a short sleeved, moon colored t-shirt that had no design on the front whatsoever. His matching tennis shoes and crescent moon necklace seemed to complete this somewhat gothic and dark appearance. But he didn't act depressed or anything like that. In fact, he was probably the exact opposite of an emo kid. Every single time we talked to each other, he would always happily announce in a snide, sarcastic tone, "Oh, today's another wonderful day! Hey, Toshi, haven't gotten a girl yet? Doesn't surprise me either. No female with taste would go for a weird kid like you. But don't worry, I can always help ya out with the chicks if you need it. And trust me, you do."

Any time he said anything to me I felt like shooting back and lashing out. Or maybe just saying something like, "No female with a quarter of a brain would go for you, either."

But of course I never did say it. All it would give me is even more Yamada grief.

"Hey, Dirk. Aren't you happy that we totally ditched that Ven kid today?" I heard the aforementioned guy mumble to Dirk continued with a chuckle.

"Hell, yeah! Don't know why we didn't do it earlier. It would've saved me from a lot of Toshi brand geekness."

I stood behind the corner of the street I was in in shock. I couldn't believe that he had just said that.

My bewilderment rose even higher when I heard Yamada's cheerful reply, "Yeah. No one wants to hang out with that loser. I'm surprised Drennin even cares about beating him up all of the time. You can't mess his face any uglier than it already is. No wonder why he doesn't have any memories from before he was fourteen: his parents probably knocked his head a bunch of times thinking it was doom itself and fled in fear of seeing it again."

At first I thought I heard a slight gasp of unexpected awe burst from Dirk's mouth as he recoiled at this direct insult. A slight glimmer of hope dawned inside my soul when I heard this. Did he think that that was going too far?

No, of course not. What I assumed to be a gasp turned into a rising jolt of laughter. Dirk then smiled and replied, tongue in cheek, "Seriously."

Anger and hatred started to fire up the flames in my stomach and turn my blood into molten fury. All this time I had been his loyal person and he turned around and stabbed me in the back. Usually I didn't let insults get to me since I had grown so used to them, but this time it was really, really bad. And the only time when it got that bad was when someone made fun of my amnesia. All of these negative feelings seemed to possess me, forcing me to run straight up to the two without realizing that I was blowing my cover and destroying any chance of hearing more about what they "thought" of me. Once they recognized who was stomping up behind them, both of their dark blue and green eyes widened in amazement as they turned around.

"Oh, hey Ven. Didn't know you were around." Yamada sputtered, allowing me to kindle together an idea that had to do with him being afraid of me. Well, at least for this moment.

"Yeah, I didn't notice." I sarcastically remarked back at him. Dirk chuckled and rubbed the back of his head, "How's it going?"

"You know how it's going."

They both flinched. Yamada then turned back to head towards the candy shop with Dirk's limp arm in hand and dragged him along for the ride.

"See ya tomorrow, Ven!" My ex-best friend waved as Yamada increased the amount of pressure of his death grip and continued on to the waiting elder lady that owned the shop.

My left foot immediately launched to take another step towards them, but I stopped myself almost right away. I decided that it was best to leave the two to themselves. If I didn't I would have probably shoved their ice cream and popsicle sticks down their throats with one lunge. But I bailed instead and headed towards the station without any sweets in hand.

The golden town of Twilight sparkled when I settled down on the ledge of the clocktower, my legs dangling like vines over the front. My ears were blasted out when the giant face behind me began to bellow out.

Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring... Each and every one contributed to add up to the number six, indicating that it was about dinner time for most of the town. Since I didn't have anyone to cook for me, I usually would grab a hot dog at one of the stands on Market Street or go without anything. But when it was Winter I had to fend for myself and cook up a frozen pizza or something. Truly, I did try to learn how to cook, but of course I never realized the difference between a pinch of salt and almost a full hand. That, and also I didn't consider that dry and liquid measuring cups weren't to be intermixed. Plus I burnt everything. Not a yummy treat, eating a crusty, hard, and blackened piece of crap I conjured up on the fly. My stomach grumbled, remembering all those nights where it went hungry because I was too lazy to go out and eat something or mess up another one of those simple and easy Ramen instructions. Maybe that's why I had absolutely no muscles at all: I never ate all that much. I would've if I could have, but I didn't.

Once in a while, Dirk's mother would invite me over to have supper with them, but that was only once in a complete blue moon. I tried to reconcile how many times I had been over at his house...three times during our whole two-year relationship? I dunno. I can't remember.

I summoned the memory of the very first day I met Dirk Yorume. It was an extremely cold afternoon near the end of December. Snow had laden its clutches upon the cobblestone streets and paths of Twilight Town and kept out the warm winds of Autumn. I think that day was the twenty-fourth, the exact day of Christmas Eve. During the whole winter break, all of the kids of the town were either out playing or just hanging around with their friends and enjoying the slightly pleasant breeze. Dirk was alone and had finished his lunch and was strolling around just to bask in the nice but crisp, cool air.

Everything was fine until he had noticed a group of people wading around one inconspicuous spot in the front of the train station. In his curiosity, he managed to shove a few of them around to get a front seat and take a gander at the view:

Me.

Dirk instantly spewed the question out of his mouth, "Is he dead?"

Another person nearby answered, "No. He's still breathing. But we don't know how he got here. He's been lying there for a day or two."

"Two whole days!? Why hasn't anyone woken him up yet?"

"Because he won't wake up. He must be unconscious, or something. We've even tried to give him water and food, but he justs spits it all back up."

Dirk stood in place, completely astounded. But then he got to thinking, I wonder if I could wake him up.

So that's what he did. The first thing I ever saw after losing my memory was Dirk's pale face, discolored from the chill, along with a pair of rosy cheeks. The smell of freshly cut pine and the out of place smell of perfume entered my nose, bringing me even more into the present.

"Are you okay?" Dirk shook me by my shoulders in a panic, causing my head to wrack against the wall behind me. Along with that was the disgusting odor of his breath wafting into my nostrils.

The first thing I ever whispered to Dirk was, "Your breath reeks of cat butt and garlic."

And somehow, that did it. From that day on we were best friends, never not seeing each other for at least twelve hours. Well, until Dirk decided that he was going to play it cool with Yamada and abandon me. After that incident, Dirk had questioned me enough to get a little bit of information out. Supposedly, my name was Ventus Toshi and I was fourteen years old. That was it. That was all I knew when I had lost my memories.

That day was still fresh in my head, even though it was nearly two years ago. I could even call back that putrid smell Dirk's mouth put out and the revolt I felt when it did so.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding...The clocktower cried out another bark, telling me that I had already spent an hour on the station already, just by recalling the events of today, my bad cooking, and when I met Dirk. Time had flown by so fast, but I didn't understand why.

Thankfully my nose had stopped oozing out scarlet rivers and began to ache less. The bruises on my legs and arms still hurt, though; those would take a much longer amount of time to heal. I glanced down at my shirt and noticed a few stains of crimson here and there, obviously telling me that I had forgotten all about keeping my nosebleed from dripping onto my clothes.

Oh well, I have bleach and a lot of the same outfit in my closet back at home. I comforted myself and thought back to the welcoming, warm, gentle feel of the depths of slumber. Sleep began to pressure against my eyelids and grasp me between its grip. But before I could fully fall into it, I mentally noted that falling asleep on an over-one-hundred-foot tower wasn't such a good idea. I guessed that there was no possible way of me falling off though, since there was some space between the face and the ledge, unless someone pushed me off. But who would be cold-hearted enough to do something like that? My mind blinked an image of Yamada, Dirk, and that stalker with the bad posture, but it all faded away under the folds of unconsciousness.

I curled up on the stone floor and rested my head on my arm, the anxiety and worry of that day's events flying out of my head like a butterfly fluttering away from it's newly opened cocoon, ready to allow the gentle and humid breeze let it float away under the setting Sun and off into the distance.

-----------------------------------

The distant sound of twinkling and the booming breakout of ongoing calm was music to my ears after the recent tiring day. I took a few steps forward to clear the dizziness out of my head, each of them producing a clanking noise due to the impact on the stained glass below. In the background, a choir of voices sounded a harmonious hymn. Too bad I couldn't hear what they were saying due to the surprisingly loud noises of the world around me.

I flickered my turquoise sight to the sudden rush of color below. Underneath my shoes was a colossal, round mural made of pure stained glass, edged with a splash of forbidding black. I assumed that dark color must have been the empty realm below, just waiting there to swallow me up like a monster. It clouded and pooled around the end of the picture, some managing to wade over the side. Instantly, it all flowed back down the edges in apparent fear when a voice bellowed out across the void, "Welcome to this desolate world."

The next few minutes flew by as he waited for a response. I mean, what? Was I supposed to say something back to him, the weird, bodyless voice?

"Uh...hi?" I managed to sputter out.

The mural below shook as his medium toned snicker echoed across the void, my feet unbalancing from the sudden rush of movement. It was as if he saw this, for he mumbled in a resonating, apologetic pitch. Something to the extent of a "Sorry", or "Excuse me, my bad". I couldn't really hear because I was too busy gawking at the picture that stretched across the platform.

The first colors that I recognized right away were bright tangerine, golden yellow, and scarlet wine. All of these were dispersed evenly over the depiction, blending together a soothing but still vibrant mural that wasn't too hard to stare at.

In the very middle of all was what seemed to be a male in full body armor. This "knight" was bronze and tarnished gold, giving him a very rustic appearance. But the weird part about this "soldier" was that he didn't look like he was wearing any kind of suit I'd seen before. He was sprawled across the whole thing in a very strange position; his legs were spread far apart as he hunched over a bit and looked onward off to the right side. While in his left hand was a strange blade that resembled a saw of some sort, his right hand was reaching straight towards me, each finger even less curled as it went up, meaning that his pinky was the most tense and his index the most relaxed.

But, I think the most cool thing about him was either his weapon or the metal, pointed "ears" that stuck out straight from the back of his head. They were one of the weirdest additions I had ever seen to any outfit that existed, but for some reason I thought that they looked awesome. Don't ask me why.

In the background there was a sandy desert that stood under the blanket of night. It was an empty wasteland that had a few tawny brown rocks here and there. But there was one that stood out, probably because it was the tallest and also donned a heart shaped moon looming over it. This strange object definitely caught my attention a lot faster than the other things, for it just floated there with a navy blue aura casting a glow off to the surrounding stars. Visible breeze swirled around this whole picture and wrapped its snowy fingers around the guy in the armor, giving me a random thought to accompany it:

Wind…

"Are you done yet?" The voice rudely interrupted my perusal of the mural. In return, I figured that I would attempt to snap back, "Did I say that I was done?" This seemed to startle him, in fact. Look, I may seem to be a weakling when it comes to fighting, but verbally I was fully armed against all. All he did in reply was to mutter a quiet mumble that consisted of, "Sheesh…"

Another few minutes flew by as I took even more time to admire the painting of the golden and onyx warrior below before he couldn't hold back words for any longer.

"You're quite the brave one. I think you are the only kid who's ever fought back. Really admirable, I'd say. It's nice to get one like you who's a little more interesting to chat with, keeps my brain vessels flowing."

I rested my head on my thumb and bent index finger while I continued to contemplate my surroundings, each second making the tension between each to rise. While doing so, I managed to let out my former personal thought, "Glad I could be of service."

"I'm glad you could be, too." He whispered to me in a somewhat mocking voice. The silence continued before he started to crack up, choking and coughing on his own constipated-duck sounding cackle of delight. I could imagine him sitting there even better when he began to snort like a pig. On and on and on…In the beginning, it was pretty, I admit, funny, but it was getting annoying at this point. Still, I let him chortle without mentioning how weird it was. Judging from his words and the way he constructed sentences, he was maybe in either his late twenties or early thirties. Yeah, probably around there, I'd guess.

"Okay, I'm officially done now. Are you happy?"

"Quite, my young friend. Now then, before you stands the three weapons of destiny, all pointing towards the path of wisdom, strength, and protection."

In that same exact instant, three pedestals that were cloudy blue and snow white appeared to my right, left, and front. On each of these was an imprint of an orange star etched across the rustic marble, reminding me of the speckled night sky of Twilight Town.

In front of me was a plain silver sword that met a yellow hilt at the bottom, which also gave way to a sapphire handle. Directly in the center of the hilt was a charcoal colored star, matching the other weapon as well. To my right was a staff with an emerald handle and a blue, star top. Finally, to my left was a golden edged red shield with another black star dead center. They all seemed to match the three themes of "stars", "cartoony", and downright "plain". Not that I was complaining, since they were the only things in this whole dreamlike world that I could consider normal, but it made them seem out of place.

"Choose well, Ventus Toshi. The fate that awaits you is not slave to chance, for choice is the structure of its shape."

"How do you know my name?" I asked, trying to mislead him away from the fact that the second part of his speech is what really scared me. Fate? Choice? Structure? Shape? I wasn't exactly getting it. Maybe it was another one of those 'total epic fails' of mine that had decided to appear within this realm.

"I wonder…maybe if you pass your test I'll tell ya…" The voice trailed off and finalized it all with his trademark laugh, gnawing at me and forcing me to cringe. He must've noticed this and began to crack up even more, just to enjoy the viewing of my disgust.

I shook my head and paced towards the first of the three objects that had caught my eye quite easily. Which, in shorter and easier terms, was the sword that glinted in the faint light that had drifted from the 'ceiling' above.

Shockwaves of bitter cold pulsed through my hand towards my heart when I clutched it tenderly, holding onto it in order to pull myself up. My knee instinctively bent and gave me a foundation for support. While I knelt there upon the platform I grasped the indigo handle and swung the silver blade to the left, it's sharp edge cutting through the air in a clear slice.

"The Power of the Warrior, Invincible Courage, A Sword of Terrible Destruction…Is this the power you seek?"

Terrible destruction? Well, I wanted invincible courage more than anything, but terrible destruction? Maybe not. The weapon also seemed to feel…out of place within my hand. As if hearing my rejection, it floated away from my palm and made its way back to its original spot. I shook my head to his question and headed towards the shield in eagerness. As soon as I wrapped my fingers around the strangely warm handle located on the back of the metal plate, the voice rang out in an ominous tone once again, "The Power of the Guardian, Kindness to Aid Friends, a Shield to Repel All."

Just then it began to hum within my dominant left hand in heartbeat-like thrums. It felt right within my fingers and gave me a surge of certain strength. This must have been the one that I was supposed to choose. I glanced over to the staff and wondered if I should try that one out, too. But this weapon felt so right and comfortable, and it even waved throughout the air easier than the sword had. I gave in and raised my attention to the heavens above, waiting for him to ask whether or not this was the power I sought out. He did, and I nodded my head up and down a few times to signal that I had agreed.

"Good choice, blondie. Now then, what will you give up in return? The Power of the Warrior or the Power of the Mystic?"

"The power of the mystic?" I asked in perplexity.

"The Power of the Mystic, Inner Strength, a Staff of Wonder and Ruin. Are you going to give up this power?"

I sat there and thought about it for a while. Should I give up power or wisdom? What did I need more? The Staff seemed to resemble the energy of magic and skills, while the Sword gave me bravery and power by just looking at it.

I've already chosen defense as my main attribute. So what goes best with it? Defense and Power or Defense and Wisdom? What to choose?

Finally, I had decided exactly what I was going to do. My mouth uttered out to the voice, "I give up the Power of the Warrior."

"Very well, then. You have now have the Power of the Guardian, and have given up the Power of the Warrior. Is this really what you wish to be?"

"Yep."

Suddenly the shield engraved with the star popped out of sight in a stream of light. What replaced it was what really gave me the opportunity to wonder.

The first thing I ever noticed about it was the gear shaped blade that carved the outline of the top right side of the weird weapon. Its metal was completely covered, prongs to one-sided handle, with pure, onyx, shining paint and color. The only other shade that caught my eye was the sheer gold that smothered the area down at the bottom, which itself was also an out of place shape. With only one hand-guard sticking out on the right, it also had a black handle that was bitterly icy even within the depths of my sweating left hand. All of this turned to charcoal and rose up the shaft to meet the aforementioned blade that resembled a wing-like gear. This gear was also black and consisted of five prongs, each one getting longer the farther up you went. Every one of these had a silver bolt accenting the top, even on the other side. I twisted and turned it around, examining every aspect of its beauty. Another point of its existence battered my heart with a flash of shock: it reminded me of those old skeleton keys, every prong all together giving the word, teeth.

"Well, Ven. Do you like it?" His voice knocked me into the present almost as if he had thrown a boulder at my head.

"Um…What exactly is it?"

"A Keyblade, you retard. What else would it be?" I almost sputtered out loud in sarcasm and laughter. A Keyblade? What was this, some kind of dinky name given to the weapon of some creepy old guy who lives in Japan's video game?

As I said before, don't even think about answering that.

"I know, I know, this is all so confusing for you. By the way, that specific one's name is Divided Fate."

Oh my God, I don't think I have ever heard a name as cheesy as Divided Fate. I gave in to my mocking and dropped to the ground. I rolled over and over and over again all over the stained glass and cackled almost as bad as him and lost myself. I'll admit, the Keyblade looked pretty awesome, but Divided Fate? What a joke…

"What's wrong with it?"

I let him have it, "The name sucks." There was absolutely no answer from him, just the sudden shaking of the mural below as if it were the voice's fist.

"Fine then, mister judgmental. We'll have it your way. How about you come up with a good title for the weapon I spent eight months working on? If you can come up with such within ten seconds, I'll let you name it whatever that name is. If not, then it stays as Divided Fate. This starts now."

May I say, it was quite an unfair challenge especially since all of what he said didn't sink in until second number five. But of course he didn't listen to such and carted me off. So the name of my awesome Keyblade was destined to be 'Divided Fate', go figure. At least it wasn't as bad as something like, "The Key of the Kingdom", or, "Cheesiness Itself". And at least it wasn't an extremely girly Keyblade with a bunch of flowers all over it. The way I was holding Divided Fate right now seemed a little awkward for me, so I made my way around and grasped it in quite an odd angle: the protruding inner hand guard was pointing to me and protecting my thumb while the outer faced the other direction and was guarding my other four fingers. This also meant that when I readied into a battle position, it would stick out behind me while I led the front lines against any monsters or Drennins. If I was fast enough, though, I could easily manage swinging it in front of me to block any assaults.

"There you go, your own weapon. Treat it nicely."

"What? This is mine?" Was he really going to just give it to me? This completely left me stumped, and here I thought that the voice was beginning to hate me.

It was almost as if he had heard my thoughts, for he coughed to get my attention and pursued, "Why would I hate you?" This was ended by another snicker.

"Oops, no time for that. It looks like the Unversed are here to stir up some nice trouble for us." Just then, a mystifying and dark figure arose from the mural below like a zombie rising from the grave. It was either navy or indigo, some kind of a dark purplish blue. Two antennae spouted out of its head and were jagged, almost shaped like two cobalt lightning bolts. Its knees were bent constantly and it also was forever stuck in a hunched state. The face was pointed like a triangle, and jutted out like a horse's snout, but much less smaller in size. Almost like a fox's, but in a very weird color. It even had little points sticking out of the cheeks.

It stood there and analyzed every ounce of my being, its crimson slits squinting whenever it met my amazed gaze. In a very swift manner it seemed to twitch and bend over, hissing erupting abruptly from its deformed mouth. A minuscule, pink tongue peeked out of its face and swished back and forth at a rhythmic rate. That kind of reminded me of the hero of hillbilly proportions; he had done just the same when he was recovering from the attack.

Blood began to seep out of a fresh wound that had suddenly appeared on my right arm. The skin around it welled up and swelled as I faced my head towards the now smirking little monster, which seemed to also enjoy the sight of the crimson liquid dripping off of its pointed arm. It cocked its little head to the side in contemplation and let its little tongue stick out and take a lick of my life essence. I guess the Unverse liked it, for it continued to lap up the fluid eagerly, each taste forcing it to become more feral and twitchy. For some reason the wound didn't bother me. Though, it did ooze a little more when every single heartbeat passed. I let it hang down at my side and I raised the other with Divided Fate still in hand, ready to strike out at the little thief. Was it some kind of a vampire? Or did it just like the acrid tang of iron pulsing throughout its throat? Either way, I wasn't going to let it get away too easily.

My Keyblade was flung around behind me as I raced towards the Unverse with speed that certainly caught me by surprise. How did I gain the ability to run so fast in that short amount of time? This question left me when I began to thrash Divided Fate around at the little creature, every single blow dodged with ease. So, this thing wasn't nearly as dumb as it looked.

Another wound was scored across my arm from the Unverse as it ran past, along with another spurt of red that shot out of my skin like that of a fountain. Droplets hit the stained glass below as if it were raining cranberry juice. I shuddered and flinched backward in revolt while the Unverse crept closer in interest.

It began to wobble up to me, and once it had, it grasped my arm and began to bite down with its sharp little teeth.

"Get away!" I tried desperately to sweep it off of my right lower arm, but it still clamped on tight. I instantly took my Keyblade and whacked it on top of the head. But instead of letting go it held on even tighter. Shaking my arm furiously to try to get it to fly away didn't even work, and it still held on stubbornly like ivy to stone.

"Let...go...now!" I screamed at the Unverse and shook my arm even harder than I had before, which might have been impossible if I hadn't been under pressure. Still, it bit harder and harder. So much blood had been lost that I was beginning to feel drowsy and sleepy. Out of each side of its mouth, rivers of scarlet gushed out in vast quantities. Truthfully I was losing blood a little too fast and my head began to ache with all that loss. But I had to get rid of this Unvi or whatever it was fast, or I don't think I could've made it.

Think of something, Toshi. Come on! I yelled at myself in desperation and struggled for ideas.

My heart also started to throb from fear, so much that I tried to anything to get the beast off of me: rolling all over the ground and flinging my arm back and forth, knocking its head against the mural. Finally I got so fed up with it that I stepped on the creature and tugged my arm upwards.

Really, really, really bad idea. All it did was give the Unverse more reason to clamp down harder and pull the flesh away from my wound, more and more blood that I thought possible was now gushing out in a flood. By now the ground was soaked, some streams trickling over the edge of the circular platform. I knew that if I had died from this thing, the only words written on my grave would be "Total Epic Failure". I shook just thinking about it.

"Graah!" I slurred with agony and pain. Soon I even fell to my knees due to my weakness and slammed my fist up and down, not just because the blue monster was still attached, but because I had failed at destroying such an easy enemy to vanquish.

"Wow, I didn't think that you were that weak. I shouldn't tell you this since it will probably make you even angrier. But, that's the weakest kind of enemy there is. I'd hate to see you go up against the others."

"Shut...the hell up, please." My teeth gritted as the pain of both the voice's comment and the Unverse's teeth sank in even more. Great, another one of those sour asses who never have or will believe in me. I was totally getting sick of them, Dirk, Yamada, Drennin, even some old fart voice who doesn't have the guts to come down and let me see him along with just watching me as I was ripped apart by an Unverse. Some day, I'd show them all my strength.

No, today I would show them my strength.

Jumping up into the air with bravery coursing through my recently blood-empty veins caused the Unverse to stir from its previously limp state to its original twitchy self.

I finally managed to swing Divided Fate through the Unverse's silky flesh and reduce it to nothing more than ashes that drifted away lazily off into the dark distance. Relief overwhelmed me in he pulsing waves of my emotional breath of air. I could fell a tingling sensation on my arm. Glancing at it made me realize that the skin was now crawling back into place. Then it began to meld together, giving me a sense of disgust and comfort at the same time. Still I laid on the floor, though, taking a breather from having to fight a stupid weak monster that looked like the gunk and lint that lined the space between my toes. I thought so, at least.

"I wouldn't relax so quickly, Ven. You've got another 'friend' to deal with."

It seemed as if he was summoning them at the same time he told me about my crappy luck. On cue, one more fiend shot outwards from the door that stood in front of me and...wait, when did that door get there? It stood there and allowed me to scan it over: mostly, it was just an ordinary marble entrance with white, ornate handles and everything, but it also had a mysterious glowing crown emblazoned upon the top. An indigo, trademark pointed hand caressed the edge of the door on my side and did the same a few seconds later with its other hand, this time I was able to see the tip curl around the door and circle it twice. While this hand was entwined like a vine coveting damp stone, the other one cast a black shadow above me as it came to reach me. There was absolutely no place to go with its paw being so big that it smothered the whole platform.

"Let me go!" I struggled to wiggle out of its grip as it carried me through the door. I even grabbed the handles on the inside of the door and held them with a death grip. But to no avail, I was thrown into the abyss along with Mr. Huge. Everything seemed to black out like an exploding pen full of ink, blotches of darkness obscuring my vision. In that world I heard the ominous choir in the background's voices more clearly: it seemed that they were speaking in some different language:

Destati, Tendi la mano...

E'guinta lora, Destati

Le porte, verranno schiuse

Su rimembra tu trepida

Su sveglia! Ehi ricorda

Destati, Destati,

Forza, tendi la mano

Destati, Destati

E'guinta lora

E ancora una volta

Apriranno le porte

Su remembra, tu trepida

Su sveglia, Ehi recorda

Eh? Come? Non lo vuoi

Tuttavia T'appartiene

Cio che, hai perduto

Diventera uno

After a few moments of silence and voices I awoke on a mural identical to the original except for that the warrior was frozen completely head to toe with his helmet off. But the gigantic Unverse that had laid its feet upon it was blocking the view. This made me extremely curious, but all of that was flicked away when the creature attacked me first with a swing of its rose thorn barbed arm. After dodging this affront, I glanced at it to take its appearance in. It was almost exactly the same as the smaller Unverse, but was huge and owned a somewhat different shaped head.

I missed another blow that was meant to be dealt to my side by jumping out of its barbed way. Crimson slits glared scarlet fury at me as the monster concentrated on me. This pause gave me the chance to counteract with a hit to its legs.

Instinctively I ran to one side and hacked away at its silky being, each cut spitting out ashes like mine did blood. The terrible creature hissed and growled at the pain I inflicted upon it. I taunted it by balling my hand into a fist and thrusting my elbow downwards, giving me a sense of victory.

My feet were swept out from under me when the Unverse struck back for revenge. My head hit the floor first, giving me a serious headache, and before I could even get up I was pinned down once again with one of his hands. Opportunity was definitely mine while the Unverse raised its unused paw to claw at my face. Divided Fate sliced through its wrist like scissors through weak paper, cutting it straight off. A giant hand landed next to me and gave me the chills. It still writhed and squirmed like a worm wriggling through wet earth, struggling to make it to its objective; in this case, me.

I half expected the weird creature to sprout a new hand, but it didn't. Instead it fell to the ground and slammed its remaining fist into every previous spot I had been in. But instead of me being the Epic Failure, he stole the title away easily. The rest of it screamed and glared at me with even more crimson spite. I stood up and made a face, which also included my tongue sticking out and crossed, bugged out eyeballs. Before it met death and the end, the Unverse managed to leave one more scratch on my face. But the abrasion didn't even hurt. Didn't even make me flinch.

My enemy transformed into gray ashes that floated away on an unforeseen wind that had passed unexpectedly. All it left behind was claw marks running through the knight's true face, covering everything of it except for the two blue eyes that looked somewhat familiar to what I remembered to be mine. The voice above must have noticed my interest and mumbled to me, "Too bad that Unverse decided to claw y-I mean, that guy's face away except for his eyes. Would've been fun to see your reaction."

"Of course." I grinned in being right about knowing that he would say something to that extent.

"Good work, kiddo. I can see quite easily that you have great potential. He'll be enthralled to hear about it. Well, goodbye. I'm gonna miss the weirdest kid that's ever been here."

"Weirdest? At least I don't give corny names to the most awesome weapons."

He sighed as everything faded out into more nothing again, muttering something like, "By far, Ventus."

Cool wind from the open air on top of the clock tower shot into my lungs like a waterfall of oxygen. The lights of heaven above peeked through the dark sheet of night and twinkled brightly. Even the milky spill of white seemed to glow in bands of silk that weaved throughout the cloth. My skull had been laying crooked on the wall behind me, which gave me pain to think about. I laid in an awkward position, my legs being hugged by my arms tightly and my head cranked the opposite way. Though through all this, my attention was diverted mostly to the discomfort on my forehead. I almost raced my fingers to that spot, but slowed them a little when I recalled that that's where I was scratched by the Unverse before it died. Fingertips rubbed the scar tenderly, but even that was enough to irritate its sensitive scab. If it was just a dream, then how did that mark appear over my right eyebrow and brow?

A person sounded from below in an urgent tone, obviously in a rush, "I know this is weird, but please tell me where he is. If I don't get him there on time-just...at least tell me if you know where you saw him last."

"How am I supposed to know where that geek lives? All I know is that he's a super nerd and has the weirdest last name ever-" My heart skidded over a beat: This was one of the boys who had tried to beat me up today along with Drennin the macho buttface.

"How do you know him?"

While the other kid paused to think up an answer, I swung my sleeping legs over the side of the ledge and knelt to look down below.

And guess who was the one asking the questions?

The dark brunette's hair shone in the moonlight and kept me from believing that it was totally black. He still was wearing his strange samurai/hillbilly/knight outfit proudly and pants that looked like a tan skirt when his legs were closed.

"Tell me now, or I'll-"

"That's not really the way to handle an innocent civilian, Terra. Try to be a little more gentle." A feminine voice was added to the conversation.

"Like this," While she patted the shoulder of the kid and started to murmur to him, I stole a glance at her appearance and licked it up in amazement.

This girl looked to be either my age or the guardian's, about fifteen or sixteen, I'd say. On her arms were long white sleeves that were attached by only a matching set of armor on each. These snowy sleeves covered everything middle arm and down, only her long fingernails at the bottom were showing. Her shirt was short sleeved and stretchy black like the supposed Terra's, and had many white "x's" laced down the two sides of her front. Pink straps also like the other boy's criss-crossed her chest and were held together at the crossing by the same symbol that Terra held, except that hers was a glinting bronze. The shirt I mentioned before came down to shorts that only had a small amount of skin before long and onyx tights led into her shining silver armor shoes. The toes of these were pointed; I felt bad for any guy who had been hitting on her and was kicked in his sensitive area in return. Covering her whole bottom half from the sides was a blue skirt wrapped in even more white cloth.

But the most stunning part of her was her certain beauty...

And her dark blue hair.

Who were these people? If it was my part to guess, I would've assumed that they were traveling circus bums who were on the run from a freak convention in order to avoid being the ringmaster's pawns.

"All we need to get from you is some information, so please be kind and tell us where this boy lives. If you cannot then just shake your head and tell us if you know of anyone who knows where he is."

"Okay, fine. He lives on the lane right next to Market Street, and his house is orange and cream. You can't miss it. He has blond, really spiky hair and blue eyes, kinda short..."

I didn't hear the rest because I could only concentrate on my own fear. These people were looking for me? Seriously, this day was getting weirder by the second. But as all of this pounded through my head, a calming speculation also coursed through my thoughts:

Even if they search my house they still won't find me; I'm not there. Unless-

"But the last time I really saw him was when he was sleeping on top of the clock tower and drooling about some thing in his dreams. I almost knocked him awake just to play around, but I left him when I started to creep out; that was when he began to murmur about teeth and cheesy names."

"Gee, thanks for telling those stalkers where I am, retard." I chastised to him in my own silence. The wind of the twilit evening played with my hair and forced it to rub my forehead, giving me an itch right in the middle of my brow.

Air was the only holding up my left hand after I had accidentally slipped it off. But only because I had put too much stock into it, carelessly leaning on it far too much. My tense hand balled up and relaxed rhythmically until I had the courage to lean on it once again while only holding on to the ledge.

"I'd look there first if you can. It was only about right before you came that I tried to bug him."

They both peered up at the tower and instantly saw me, which sent the sudden thought of "Oh, crap." running through my head.

"Is that the kid you're telling us about?" Terra tilted his head downwards to the right and raised his eyebrow. This question gave the boy the incentive to also glance at me. I almost crapped my boxers when he nodded and agreed, giving the two their answer to my whereabouts.

The blue haired girl thanked him in the most formal and business like manner I'd never seen before from any teenager, "We appreciate your utmost amount of cooperation." This was followed by a, "What she said." from Terra. My little tattle-tale shrugged at the weird experience and made his way across the plaza in slow, but moderate pace, unaware that he had just busted me. In their assumed eagerness to find me, the two stalkers of mine both ran like no tomorrow over towards the back of the huge clock. This meant I had little to no time to escape and get away to a safe place.

I wonder why they're looking for me for anyways...

As soon as I heard their shoes clacking on the stone steps, urgency had finally begun thrumming in my being. How was I going to get away? I couldn't go down the only safe route because, of course, they were coming up the safe route.

God, how am I going to get away? I can't- My insistence was interrupted by the duo of flaky nutcases dressed in perturbing crack outfits moderately taking steps towards me.

Before I could sputter out anything the boy named Terra decided to say something first.

"Hey, step out into the moonlight so we can see you." He ordered. I realized that I had instinctively decided to bask in the shadows of the tower. Without any haste the blue haired lass sidestepped around me and blocked the other way out of this predicament. I had no choice but to oblige. Rubber against seemingly unbreakable stone sounded throughout the air as I strode into the wash of white.

His mouth gave off a gasp as he recognized me, every fiber of my being resembling the same exact kid that he had rescued the same day. Blue eyes flickered with disappointment when he was done taking in who I actually was.

"You are...you're that guy that I protected today...And all this time we were told to look for a very special and strong man whose name was Ventus. That couldn't possibly be a runt like you, could it?" That comment left me feeling quite frustrated.

"I dunno. Ask all the kids at my school: they'll be surely happy to inform you of any other ways you can make fun of me." My fists balled up and my fingernails dug into my palm. Was everyone bound to laugh at me today?

"No, no, I didn't mean it that way. It's just that-"

"What he means, kiddo, is that we have been searching day after day, night after endless night, all because our master wanted us to find someone who he has noticed has a powerful heart and being. And we come to you, some little boy who doesn't look a day over twelve. We're just a bit disappointed, is all." The female interrupted with spite. Now that she was closer I was able to notice that her breasts were...huge. She waved her hand up and down to get my attention and sighed, "With hormones to match."

My cheeks flushed red as I struggled to latch onto an excuse, but none came.

"So, are you really Ventus Toshi or did that kid lie to us? If you aren't, we can't afford to idle around." For some reason I wasn't scared of letting them know my identity. Maybe it was because I had already accepted the fact that they were really here to gawk at my weak appearance instead of harming me.

"Are you going to drag me back to the circus to see your ringmaster if I am?"

They both glared at me in despise and hate, giving me a chance to smile and enjoy their facial expressions for a bit.

"So you are Ventus Toshi." The girl assumed with certainty.

"What makes you figure that?" I asked back.

"Because if you aren't..." Terra ran up behind me, utilizing my turned back, and holstered me by the waist like I was a football. Then he paused to nod at the girl and paced up to the ledge and stared down below, confidently, completely ignoring my wriggling and squirming.

"Let's go." The female walked up next to Terra and they both focused on the ground that was tucked tightly underneath the clock tower. Without warning, they both dove off and let the wind brush past their hair with a certain gentleness. While they remained abnormally still, I willingly, but embarrassingly, screamed out to Terra at the top of my lungs," Aren't you going to finish what you were going to say!?"

In that moment everything seemed to stop as he realized his own shock at the random question, his cobalt irises flashing with amusement. As it sank in he began to grin. His flicked his eyesight to me and cackled, his breath catching to mumble, "Nah."