P S Y C H O B A B B L E
make no sudden movements.

A shocking chill raced down her spine. The miniscule hairs behind her neck stood on end as the bloodcurdling wave suffused through the rest of her fairy-like frame of a body. Her right hand in her lap twitched once, imperceptibly. Something in her chest tightened, not too much and not too little, but it was enough to trigger a premonition. She sat up from her shivering position on the bed, swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress, curling her toes over the soft champagne carpeting. Slowly, she stood. She rubbed at her arms. As she breathed deeply, she felt as though her lungs were swelling with icy vapor.

She didn't like the sensation. She did not like the feeling of insecurity.

She lived alone, but it felt like someone else was in the house with her.

The glow of the full moon filtered into the room though the light fabric of her window's white curtains. The wind picked up outside. Her curtains flicked against the pane. She had left the window an inch open before going to sleep so that she could have a nice breeze to sleep in, but now all it did was let the wintry, past-midnight air swirl inside and nip at her.

She shuddered—exhaled shakily, gulped. She heard footsteps. Step, step. Sticky footsteps. Bare feet. Step, step. Footsteps on linoleum. Somebody was in her kitchen. She swallowed a whimper, taking a step forward. She froze. Her right hand twitched again in anticipation. Her periwinkle irises swerved this way, that way. Finally, she reached out and clenched a sweaty palm around the slim contour of a porcelain vase resting atop her dresser. She held the long, slender ceramic at her side, her feeble muscles tensing.

What the hell am I doing? I should be calling the police…

She rushed back to her bed, reaching for her cell phone on her nightstand. She began dialing before stopping abruptly. She stared at her cell in disbelief. Her fingers trembled enough to make the vase thump against the side of her leg. She dropped her phone on the bed. Her free fingers went limp. Her insides churned. She felt sick. No battery power left. No battery power left. No battery power left.

Her only telephone was in the kitchen.

She swore. She tightened her grip around the vase, taking a deep breath. She turned around. Stop stalling. She advanced toward her open bedroom door and halted suddenly. Stop stalling, you coward. You'll be trapped in here if you don't get out there. She neared the threshold. She stepped out into the hall, her knees knocking against each other. Get in the kitchen. Grab the phone. Call the police.

Kitchen. Phone. Police. Kitchen. Phone. Police.

Help! Her mind screamed.

She progressed down the hall. Her heart slammed against her rib cage. Her pulse went wild. Perspiration framed her delicate face like a thin coat of bittersweet frosting. Her hold on the porcelain kept tightening and she felt like she would crush it in her hand any moment now. Four more feet. Three more feet. Two more feet.

One.

She inched into the kitchen. Moonlight and starlight poured in through a window. Her naked feet left the carpet and met cold linoleum. She tried evening out her ragged breaths. Step, step. Sticky steps. Sticky footsteps. Bare feet. Step, step. Footsteps on linoleum. Someone was in her kitchen. Someone was in her kitchen, and she was giving that someone company.

She stopped walking, but the sound of footsteps continued. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow move. She bit down on her tongue to hold back a scream. The next time she swallowed, she tasted blood. The taste was enough to project an image in her mind of fresh blood strewn across the linoleum floor. Her blood. Her death.

Stop stalling. Quick, fast, hurry. The phone hung on the wall at the other side of the kitchen. She focused her eyes on it. The phone, and only the phone. Don't look at the shadow. She held her breath, afraid of making any noise. Don't look at the shadow. Don't go too fast. Don't go too slow. Her heart throbbed, her brain throbbed, her stomach throbbed. Everything in her body throbbed and pulsed with apprehension and confusion. Her wide eyes went sore. She was afraid of blinking, afraid that if she closed her eyes for even a split second, the phone would disappear and… and, well, she didn't know what would happen next.

Six more feet.

The phone disappeared as the shadow passed in front of it and stopped. Stopped. Stopped. Her heart nearly stopped. Her feet felt superglued to the linoleum. She remembered the vase in her hand and rose it defensively. Her eyes narrowed. She couldn't bring herself to say anything… a threat, a word of peace. Nothing.

She prepared to swing, her heart drumming.

The shadowed being shifted into the light.

And she was left staring into the face of the person she loved the most.

"Sora." Her shoulders went limp. Her ripe-strawberry bangs fell across her face. Her eyelids were rimmed with twinkling tears. Her breathing slowed. "What are you doing here?" She sighed loudly, turning around and setting the vase on the kitchen counter. That was a stupid question. He had a key to her house. She flattened her hands upon the countertop as her wild heart regained its normal pace. "You scared me half to death. So, you couldn't sleep, or something?"

When Sora didn't answer, she turned around again and scrutinized him. "Sora…?"

He was staring in her direction, but something wasn't quite right. He wasn't looking at her in the eyes, like he usually would. His blue irises were glazed over, and he looked like he was about to lose balance and fall on his face at any moment. He was in his nightclothes. Plain white shirt. Old plaid cotton pants. Why did he come in the middle of the night?

"Sora, are you…" she trailed off when he opened his mouth.

"Kai… ri…" His eyes continued to cloud over. He lifted a hand, folding down each of his fingers one by one until his index finger was left. He pointed wearily behind her. "Behind… you… there… is… a… huh…"

"What?" Kairi whirled around, but she saw nothing but her kitchen's surroundings. She looked back at the young man, concerned. "Sora, what are you talking about?"

"Huh…" Sora dropped his hand and his fingers clenched. His eyelids lowered at half-mast. "Huh…"

"Huh?"

"Huh—" He suddenly buckled forward, shoving Kairi aside. She gasped, stumbling and falling to the floor. Sora snatched the vase from the counter and began to thrash about violently. "Huh—Heartless!"

Kairi winced. She grabbed at her ankle as it resonated with a sharp pain. "H-Heartless? Sora…!" She struggled to stand, grabbing at the side of a counter. Her writhing ankle prevented her from getting up. She slipped. Trembling on the floor, she clutched her ankle again and looked up at the raging Sora. "What are you talking about, Sora? What are you—" she cut herself off.

The look in his eyes. He's…

Kairi tried standing again, succeeding this time. She leaned against the sink's counter, her knees out of whack and her legs ready to give out beneath her. She tensed again, her heart running a marathon.

"Sora… it's okay…" She tried talking some sense into him, but she knew that all efforts were futile when you spoke to someone who wasn't even awake. Never bother a sleep walker, she'd learned in the past. They are a danger to you and their own self.

She didn't care about her safety at the moment, just Sora's. It wasn't good for him to be swinging that vase around, like he had some sort of weapon, like he was fending off monsters. Monsters… called Heartless.

He was putting his well-being at risk.

He was having a bad dream, a nightmare, a horrendous phantasm, and Kairi needed pull him out of it. Her legs quivered as she pushed away from the counter. She knew there were no such things as monsters or Heartless, but she had to play along to get him to settle down. She staggered toward Sora, trying not to apply too much pressure on her ankle. "Sora—it's okay—you've defeated them all—"

"No! There's more! I can feel them here—the Keyblade can sense them!" Sora swung the lengthy vase at her at such an amazing speed that Kairi heard it whistle. She gasped and ducked, stumbling out of Sora's way so that she was behind him. She held at the counters to maintain her wavering balance.

"Keyblade…?" Kairi shook her head, unable to believe how ridiculous her best friend sounded. Her eyes flickered at the vase. "Sora, give me the Keyblade."

She immediately knew she'd said the wrong thing when Sora whipped around and glared at her menacingly, his dark blue eyes slicing into her light ones. "I'm the Keyblade Master. Why would you try to take…" He faltered before his facial features hardened. "You're not Kairi—! You're trying to—trick—me—! You're—"

Porcelain crashed against linoleum. Sora had dropped the vase. He advanced toward Kairi now, his bare feet dragging over the jagged pieces of ceramic. He extended his arms, his fingers like claws. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

"What did you do with Kairi? Bring her back to me!" he demanded, lurching forward and grabbing at her neck. Kairi choked on a scream and they both fell back, skidding against the linoleum and the porcelain.

Their blood stained the kitchen floor.

"S-S—" Kairi struggled for air, her hands flat against Sora's warm chest as he pinned her down. "S-So—ra—"

Sora tightened his clench on Kairi's sylphlike neck. She wheezed. He narrowed his eyes. "You took Kairi away from me, Maleficent. I'm not letting you get away with this. Give her back! Give her heart back!"

Kairi shut her eyes tight, struggling for air. Her legs kicked but to no prevail. Shards of porcelain stuck to her feet and jammed into her back as she was pushed down. Her lungs burned. One minute. Thirty seconds.

"S-Sora… plea… please…" Tears streamed down her cheeks and spilled over Sora's hands, trickling onto the bloody linoleum. Sora's white shirt had flecks of vermilion. Kairi's nightgown was soaked with blood at her back.

"I'm not as stupid as you say I am," Sora growled. "I'm going to restore the worlds. I'm going to get my friends back. I'm going to make everything right again and you're not going to stop me!" He squeezed and squeezed and squeezed at her neck. "I love Kairi, and I'm never going to forgive you for taking her from me."

Two minutes. Thirty seconds. Kairi reopened her eyes, staring dizzily up at the anguished Sora, her mind shrouding over from the lack of oxygen. Her heart thumped madly in her head. Her vision went in and out of focus. Her hands at Sora's chest dropped to her sides. Her body grew cold. Three minutes. Thirty seconds.

Suddenly, Sora drew back and let go of Kairi. Her body fell limp against the bloodstained, shattered porcelain-veiled linoleum. He blinked the tears out of his eyes. His irises cleared and he shook his head, yawning. Then he jerked his gaze around, alarmed. Why was he in Kairi's kitchen? He looked down, realizing he'd been on top of Kairi, practically crushing her. She stared up at him, emptily. She wasn't looking at him. She was staring at the air around his face. She wasn't moving.

She wasn't breathing.

"Oh, god, no…" Tears leaked from his eyes and he rolled off of her, wincing at the soreness of his body. He didn't bother to sweep the porcelain away on the ground. The shards dug into his legs as he lowered his head and brought his lips to Kairi's. Still warm, so soft. He shared his oxygen with her and pulled away, placing his crimson hands over her chest and pushing, pushing.

He choked on his own tears. "Kairi—I'm sorry—I'm so sorry for whatever I did—just, please, come back—I won't do it again—I swear, I promise—" He leaned back down and pressed his mouth to hers. He drew his flushed face back, his tears dripping down Kairi's pale cheeks. "Kairi, I…"

Kairi coughed. Her eyes went bright with shock. She hacked up blood. She heaved. Sora let out a long, relieved sigh. He pulled her into an embrace and ran his hands over her petite back as she breathed in deeply, her lungs hungry.

They sat there in silence as the moonlight and starlight reflected off the bloody porcelain on the sticky linoleum floor.

"I'm sorry," Sora whispered, his face burying into Kairi's sweet, sweet red hair.

"It's okay," Kairi's voice was hoarse. She closed her eyes, resting her chin on his shoulder, stray tears slipping down her cheeks and wetting Sora's shirt. "You were trying to get my heart back."

dedicated to melissa/matsukii.