Kairi and Sora sat on the shore in the dying light, which made the water out to sea too bright to look at—so they looked at the place where the wave curled over itself in a little ripple of foam, licking and spreading and licking again. Sora rested comfortably with his arms behind his head, eyes half-closed. She almost called him 'sleepyhead,' and then didn't. That was a long time ago.

"Kairi?" he asked.

"Mmm?"

"I've been wondering something." He rolled over, his elbows digging trenches in the soft sand. "The Organization . . . ."

She didn't say anything. After a moment he went on.

"Roxas, he—I mean, they were just trying to get their hearts back. And I—well, I mean . . . ." His eyes were wide blue, troubled. "Did I do the right thing?"

"I think . . . " Kairi said, and then felt Namine like the wingbeats of a moth in her mind. Endless white rooms, solitude, terrible deeds done in desperation . . . ends always and forever justifying means. "I think you did the only thing you could do," she said. "With what you had to work with."

Sora sighed and rolled over on his side. "That doesn't mean it was the right thing," he said. In that he sounded far more like Roxas than like himself: Roxas was the one who could never let anything go.

At first she thought she was dreaming of Riku, when he had worn the guise of Ansem—Xemnas—Xehanort. But that wasn't it, was it? In the dream, she was much smaller; she viewed him as if from the position of a tiny child. And he did not wear dark robes, or even the clothing his Heartless had worn. He wore a lab coat, or simple garments such as were common in Radiant Garden—and he smiled, which Riku had never done when in that shape. Even in the dream, he smiled but rarely, but when he did it was like the sun coming out—the sun that was in his eyes.

"No," Riku said. His eyes were wide, and his voice shook. "No. You can't go. You can't."

She knew he said it out of fear, not anger, not a desire to control her. So she was gentle when she said, "I'm decided, Riku. I'm sorry. I need to do this."

"But—"

"This is what I was born for. I wondered why I . . . slept through your first journey, and spent the second locked away. I know now. It's because that's what a keyblade master does, but this is what a Princess of Heart does."

"Kairi," Sora said. "We lost you twice, we—"

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry. I'll come back, I promise. It might take some time—I don't know the way—"

Path to the Dawn came to life in Riku's hand in a puff of sparks. He looked startled, and more so when the blade drew a pattern on the air, apparently of its own will, and painted a path of light for her. A doorway. Her own keyblade materialized in her hand, and she lifted it and the door opened, and she said,

"See, even your key knows I need to go. It's the pathfinder. The dawn is mine to make."

She came walking through the space between the worlds, and the light of the stars made a path for her feet. The keyblade had never seemed quite right in her hands before—the shadows had nearly consumed her, the last time she had tried to use it—but now, here, like this, it was right. She knew its name: it was called the Purity of Heart, and it referred not to what humans often called purity, which was some conglomeration of naivete and prudishness, but to the light that shone in the heart and through the eyes, and to the power of that light. And it was wrong, wrong, wrong that those who had sought (imperfectly, yes; painfully, yes; but sought) to return light to their existences had sunk into darkness. The true seeker will find the path. Kingdom Key had brought her into her power, Path to the Dawn had shown her the way, but the Purity of Heart would draw away the dross and reveal the true gold, which could never be truly lost.

Purity of Heart drew the darkness away, and she gathered it to herself, wrapped herself in it like a cloak or a gown. It clung to her but could not touch her or hurt her; she was immune to it, she could carry it without fear. She drew it in, and wound it around herself, walking deeper into the paths of this place that was the heart at the bottom of all things, the heart of all worlds

and the voice said what would you give up, to do this thing?

and she said "Must there always be pain?"

and the voice said life is always circumscribed by the birthpain and the deathpain

and she said "But the heart of life is surely joy, and love. Kingdom Hearts is light. Sora knew, Riku discovered, I believe."

and the voice said there was pain to begin this, and there must be pain to end it. will you suffer it yourself?

and she said "I already belong to you, don't I?"

and the voice said enter.

Each world had a heart, but she had not fully known until then that each heart was a world. In one heart she saw meadows in morning, and flowers in bloom; in another, blueprints and clockwork gears and machine grease, and coffee, and laughter; and another was full of the dark waters of the sea, and curiosity, and love.

She said, "You can do it?"

Namine said, Yes. Or rather, we can.

In the light, Kairi found the hearts; and from fragmented memories, Namine chained together the broken souls into whole ones; and the darkness she had drawn to herself made a rope down to Hades for the bodies of the dead. She bound them together like a puzzle, until they were whole again, until it was right.

He was tall, and terrible, and beautiful: and she remembered Riku wearing his face, but she also for the first time really remembered how he had knelt and said, "Are you happy here, Princess?" when she was just three years old, and how he had sat stiff and uncomfortable but sat anyway and read to her from the Pooh book, and how she had followed him because his hair was like snow and his eyes were like sunlight. She had loved him, in her own way, as a four-year-old could love.

His eyes were still like sunlight, and he smiled, and the expression changed his dark exotic face in ways she couldn't name.

(behind him she saw the prickly boy with his hair in his face, like and unlike Riku, and a tall laughing man whose hair no longer had streaks of silver, and the blue-haired one with his face, now unscarred , turned up to the light of Kingdom Hearts, which was now all around them, and a woman, her smile still wicked, her eyes bright, and she knew without counting that there were eleven, and twelve with Xehanort, and would have been thirteen with Roxas, who had found his heart first and shown her the way)

(and behind them a hundred more, a thousand more—faces she had never seen—and she knew without being told that they had been Dusks and Dancers, Creepers and Assassins, Berserks and Sorcerers)

"What will you do now?" she asked, but knew as he said it that the answer was:

"Live."

"Where will you go?"

"We cannot return to the Garden," he said. "I think we would find no welcome there. We will go to my home instead. My first home."

"You remember it?"

"No," he said. "Show me the way, Princess."

She began to say, "I can't, I don't know how," but the Purity of Heart came to her hand, and at the same time Namine said, Let me.

And Kairi reached out with Namine, both at once, one hand holding out the blade, the other reaching for Xehanort's forehead. He knelt, all at once, gracefully, and his hair fell like a cloak almost to the floor. Their fingers touched his brow and she felt Namine . . . unlock the memories there. A line of light sprang from the Purity of Heart and made a path, and the path made a road, and Xehanort rose to his feet. He bent and kissed her forehead, chastely, and said, "Thank you, Princess," in his deep sonorous voice.

She could say nothing; there was nothing to say.

He turned and went, and they went with him: first the five she had almost-known, once-in-a-dream, and then the others, one by one—some smiling, some solemn; some laughing, some talking, some silent. She could hear the beat of each of their hearts, just as her own heartbeat was Namine's also.

When they were gone down the road, the voice said They will fight. They will weep. They will suffer.

"They'll laugh, too," Kairi said. "And love. And feel joyful. They can do that now."

Their hearts were safe here.

"But they couldn't live," she said. "They wanted to live. They wanted to feel."

You know so much?

"I know very little. But the light is older than me, and wiser."

If it is good to live, said the voice of Kingdom Hearts, then live. Return to your islands and your boys, and live, but know that we cannot keep you safe, though you carry our light in your heart.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she said.

When she returned to the islands, Riku kissed her, and so did Sora, relieved and laughing. Roxas shimmered to life, but he didn't ask: he didn't ask, but Namine put her hand out and he touched it, and he was satisfied.