This is a rather serious story, and so I don't want to ruin it with my normal hyper-bouncy notes. So, I'll just state that Kingdom Hearts is the property of Disney Interactive and Square Co., Ltd., and that no copyright infringement is intended by this story.

And now, let's see where this takes us, shall we?

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Sound the bugle now
Play it just for me

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Silence.

Not a pleasant silence; oh no, this is a bitter silence. I'm afraid it always will be, too.

The bitterness issues from one person, who sits, facing the corner, his legs tucked under him so that he is resting on his knees. His head is bowed, hidden beneath silky hair, hiding his face from the world.

I wonder if he'll remain like that.

I wonder many things in this day and time, many of them dealing with him, but he doesn't notice.

He never does.

I've spent many days in this room, watching him, but all he ever does is sit, occasionally shuddering with a quiet whisper, gone too quick for me to hear. I think of how he used to be, and it is nearly enough to make anyone's heart break.

And as I leave, I feel a sob catch itself in my throat. I bow my head, trying not to see his head inside the room, but I can't help myself, and look back. He is sitting in the exact position I left him in—the same position he's spent the past six hours in. I know that when I return tomorrow morning, he will be there still.

He always is.

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As the seasons change
Remember how I used to be

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Throughout the days, the weeks, the months that follow, he never moves. I wonder how it is he does not appear weary, but I realise that he must have somehow adapted to a lack of need for food.

He always does.

As I sit behind him, willing him to turn, to look at me with that little smirk he used to wear. I can't help but remember the countless days, weeks, months, years we spent together, and although I wish, it does not do anything to ease the pain that I get from seeing him like this. I found his wooden sword, you know. Lying on the island, just where it would be if he had left it there yesterday.

But, you know, he never goes anymore. Neither do I, anymore. It's too painful.

I'm afraid of the memories that plague me when I go there. The memories that try to intrude while I sleep, manifesting themselves as pleasant images that quickly turn to dark nightmares . . . images of him. Watching in horror as their hearts were taken from them in a shot of light, then screaming as they turn on him, trying to wrest his heart from him . . . chasing him, brandishing claws of shadow-flesh . . . digging into his chest, searching for what they considered a mere ­prize­ . . . it's no wonder I've woken up screaming.

However, as I remain sitting, staring at the back of his head, I contemplate what has happened to him. If my own phantoms are so fearful, his are worse, and I can't help but wonder what they're like. Maybe . . . if possible, I would share the burden of these, if only he would come back to us.

He's lost in his own head . . .

*        *        *

Now I can't go on
I can't even start

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I sit in this void, unaware of time and space. I do not feel my body, though I am quite sure I remain untouched.

No-one every really did care, anyway. Only those two, and they are now gone. They have doubtlessly forgotten about me.

And I deserve it.

I deserve to remain here in this void, worse than any hell, for as long as the gods deem fit.

After all, there is no place for me in the light.

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I've got nothing left
Just an empty heart
I'm a soldier
Wounded so I must give up the fight

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All I am is a puppet for others. Someone to use for their own purposes. No-one is really trying to look past the surface. I am seen as one being, one title, one purpose. And once that purpose is complete, destiny will find another.

But what if I'm not ready for another journey?

I'm not.

I know this.

I've been scarred from my last; I've witnessed things that could make any normal being scream.

I just want to see an end to it. I want to see peace. I want to go without having to worry about whether all the worlds are safe, or whether my friends are okay.

Scarred as I am, this is a heavy task that has been set on my shoulders.

But what if I can't carry the burden?

It's too hard.

I'm just a broken wielder, tossed to the side, left to heal myself.

Alone.

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There's nothing more for me
Lead me away
Or leave me lying here

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She's back again. Why can't she just leave me alone? I am of no use to anyone, now that I've served my purpose. There is no place for me, neither in heaven nor hell, in neither the world of the living or dead. Why does she return? There is no reason for her to be here, day after day, sitting quietly behind me.

I cannot even find it within my material self to acknowledge her existence. I feel her presence, yet while I am trapped within this void of grey, I cannot move.

I'm just . . . trapped.

As the days pass, I find that her routine bothers me less and less, until I am used to her appearance each morning. It becomes habitual to look for her at the time she normally comes, to see her face at the door.

However, one day, shortly after she comes, another young woman dashes in through the doorway. She speaks to my friend, making gestures with her hands. She is irritated, I gather, and finally, she pulls my companion from her seat, pulling her out the door. My friend makes a last look through the frame, and I know that she will not be permitted to come again, by the second woman.

Words cannot describe how desolate I feel. It is as everything in this world is: to at one time, bring up one's morale, to make them rise higher than their fears, and then to cut off their source, leaving them to plummet once again into the depths of darkness.

I have learned this once before, and I had promised myself I wouldn't let anything make me put my trust back into someone else. After all, I'd done that before, and look where it had gotten me. To have it happen again has completely destroyed whatever confidence in others I'd regained.

There is nothing more for me to look for here. I allow myself to just exist in this void, doing nothing at all for days on end.

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Sound the bugle now
Tell them I don't care
There's not a road I know
That leads to anywhere

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And then, I feel it. A presence, familiar and comforting, niggling at the back of my mind. It tells me she is near; that I must tell her that I'm here. But I can't. I cannot find myself anymore. I am lost in the darkness, and no matter what I do, I will not be able to escape.

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Without a light I fear that I will
Stumble in the dark
Lay right down
Decide not to go on

*        *        *

As sunset's lovely sky swathes the islands, I enter the room quietly once more, sighing in relief. After so long, the dim lighting that graces the room is welcome from the harsh light of the sun. My zealous friend had dragged me from this room several weeks ago, under the accusation that I was obsessing over him.

As I take my normal seat, directly behind him, I can tell that there is something different. By the way his body tenses, a motion so small it wouldn't be detectable if I didn't know him so well, I know that he somehow knows I'm here, even submerged in so many layers of self-worth (or lack thereof) and such, and it somehow cheers me, if just by that small bit. I say his name, once, twice, thrice, hoping for a response, but there is none, save a small shudder.

He is saying something. I move closer, trying to hear, but it's gone before I can. I hear part of the last word, though: '—ry.'

Hearing this is confusing, but comforting, at the same time. For the last few days I'd been there, he'd done nothing, remaining as still as the highest point as the island, Uagi Point.

I bend down, looking through the strands of hair covering his face, and into his eyes. His eyes are blank, but there is a spark of his old defiant self, hidden deep within, struggling to come to the surface. I whisper his name, brushing his hair from his eyes gently, hoping against hope that he will return to us.

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Then from on high
Somewhere in the distance
There's a voice that calls
Remember who you are

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As I sit beside him, I think of my other friends, remembering stories they'd told me. One had told me that the man that travelled with them had once been a mighty warrior, but as he failed to protect his world, his everything, he lost his true identity. The man I had met was but a shell of his old self—in all aspects of himself. I don't want to think that he will end up this way, and I look down, taking a shuddering breath as I wait.

That's all I can do, is wait.

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If you lose yourself
Your courage soon will follow
So be strong tonight
Remember who you are

*        *        *

I lay back in the darkness, sighing, allowing it to envelop me, expecting her presence to fade entirely. After all, she has not been here in so long; why would she be here now?

But no. She does not leave. In fact, her presence grows stronger, until I am looking in her direction, wondering if it is merely my imagination.

Minutes later, I know that it is not my imagination. I hear her voice, saying my name.

My name . . . I haven't used it in so long . . . I say it slowly, enjoying the way it forms.

And in that one moment, I have something. I've found a strand of light, and latched onto it.

I take a deep breath, before beginning to climb that string of light, slowly pulling myself up through the darkness, through the varying shades. After a short time, I find myself in the same position I had been many, many hours earlier, and don't spare a glance around before I progress through it.

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You're a soldier now
Fighting in a battle
To be free once more

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As I move through the darkness, that strand of light slowly dissolves. However, I find it doesn't matter as I continue through it, almost floating upward. My body is bathed in light now, and I find myself looking down upon my body. She is sitting beside me, looking at me in surprise, and I know what she has been surprised by—a soul's exit from a prison would of course cause some sort of jolt.

I close my eyes momentarily, taking another breath, and slowly float down, back into my body. I feel my heart locking my soul back into its proper place. Not in the darkness, but in my body, where I belong.

I remain in my kneeling position for a while, becoming used to the feeling of controlling my limbs. I am not sure if she knows, yet, but . . .

She whispers my name once more, and I look up at her slowly, a slight smile slowly spreading across my face. 'Thank you, Kairi . . .' I tell her, not minding that my throat is clenching up from emotion. 'You brought me back.'

'Oh, Riku . . .'

And as the sun sinks beneath the horizon, the couple are simply content to be in each other's company, leaning together against the wall. There are no words needed between the two, only a satisfied sigh and their love.

Yeah, that's worth fighting for