A/N: Ok, I've just started out at writing recently…so I do hope it turns out alright. Therefore any comments, or even criticism, would be greatly appreciated! By the way, the title of this fic is a song title, and all the chapter titles will be also be song titles because I just love searching for lyrics that relate and…to put it simply, I'm too lazy to think of my own titles XD;

The title of the fic is from a song in the anime Rurouni Kenshin, and would be "Ashita No Kakera" in Japanese in case anyone might be wondering. I'm a bit unfamiliar with the terminology used for writing, but I guess this story will be slightly AU? It's set ten years in the future and there might be elements that you would usually not find in the world of KH. Please feel free to correct me.

Thank you, that's all :)

Disclaimer: KH is mine!…::lawyers loom menacingly:: …in my dreams of course :b

.Prologue .:. Return to the Darkness.

A purple streak flashed across the night sky, drawing forth a smile from the silver haired boy. The town lay before him--peaceful, unsuspecting, and asleep as he leapt to each shingled rooftop. The inky black sky smothered any potential light that might have come his way, but even if someone did see him, it wouldn't matter. They'd be dead by then. He narrowed his eyes in circumspection as he reached a house much bigger than the others, and in consent with himself, gripped the edge of a drainpipe and slid downward.

This must be the one.

His figure blended with the shadows and he smirked at the sight of a sentry man standing near the base of a window.

"Oh? Another guard." He chuckled to himself, not even attempting to lower his voice.

"Who's there?" A beam of light illuminated the spot the young boy had stood just a moment ago. He watched in amusement from the underside of an outstretched balcony; the same one the guard had initially been stationed by. Unlike his partners, he never took out his opponent immediately because he relished the feeling of confusion--the feeling of fear—that emanated off his victims.

"Who indeed," the boy replied, much to the anger of the guard.

It was ridiculous how the guards always seemed to get angry every time he answered them. The man had asked who was there, and he had replied. Just without giving any information. But even when he did tell them exactly who he was, it didn't make a difference; they always called him a liar. So seriously, what was the point of answering if they were either going to point a gun or choose not to believe him?

"If you don't come out right now I'm calling reinforcements! You're trespassing on private property."

"Oh really?" Within seconds he had placed himself right behind the man, and whispered in his ear.

"Go ahead. They won't come." Shivers ran up and down the man's spine at the sound of the boy's playful voice.

The boy pulled away, whistling to himself, and adeptly flipped back up onto the rooftop. He was already getting bored and impatient though; the guard wasn't even trying to attack him or anything. It was no fun when they just stood there. He frowned slightly and sighed as the man took out his walky talky and frantically tried signaling the other guards in the area. Did he have to repeat himself? He said they wouldn't answer, but there he was, having a conversation with the static on the other end of the line. He scoffed. People were weak; always letting their emotions control them, and always getting hurt by them in the end. What good were emotions when they just caused you pain and suffering? That's right, they were good for nothing, only stifling all sense of reason. Unfortunately, he had learned that the hard way, and he still marveled at how naïve and how blinded he had been by when he was younger.

There was a resounding crack and the walky talky flew out of the man's hands onto the solid ground in flurry of sparks. A small dagger had pierced it right through the middle.

"I told you, they won't answer." His voice sliced through the silence left behind from absence of static. He should have thrown the dagger right at the man's heart and finished him once and for all, but the boy was preceded by the sudden thought that he might as well get some information first. He was, after all, there for a reason. Jumping directly into the guards view, he met the cold pavement before straightening up and meeting the anxious eyes of the older man with a piercing gaze of his own. The boy's icy blue depths held an air of indifference, for they had been frozen over, just like his heart. He stared blankly at the guard, and couldn't help but notice the small signs of fright within the man. The guard's face had turned a pasty white, drawing attention to the now bloodshot eyes and cold sweat that trailed slowly down his forehead.

Wow, I must be getting better at this.

"Wha- what do you want?" The guard stuttered nervously, clenching and unclenching his fists. He strode forward casually and pulled his dagger out of the walky talky, eliciting a jump from its owner. Paying no attention to the man he examined the gleaming blade, absent of the red stains that usually adorned it. He'd had it ever since he was a child, though he could not recall who had given it to him. It wasn't until recently that he had put it to use, and even when he had more powerful and much more practical weapons he always kept it with him. The dagger wasn't even anything to be really admired with its plain wooden hilt and a simple star etched into it as the only decoration. Regardless, he felt a certain attachment, as if it was the key to an unlocked mystery. He pocketed it, before turning his attention back to the matter at hand.

"What I want is for you to tell me which one of those windows belongs to the new wielder."

"The M-Mistress? But I can't, it's strictly—"

He grabbed the man roughly by his collar, and lifted him slightly off the ground. The man's eyes widened, especially considering that the boy was much smaller and shorter than he was.

"You will tell me," he said coldly. Nodding, the man moved to point to the very same balcony the boy had climbed up before, but the boy was gone before he had even outstretched his finger. A second later, the man collapsed in a heap on the floor; the small red puddle that trickled out as the only sign of movement.

"Thanks. That's all I need to know."

Side note: I'm going to be perfectly honest here. I really haven't planned the next chapter, or even who this key blade wielder is so any views on this would be heard and considered thoughtfully. Oh, one more thing! Is there another word for walky talky? Somehow that word seemed so out of place...n.n

See that purple button down there? It's calling your name ;)