A/N: Second day of classes here and now I can use a computer to pass the time between classes. I need to make a resume too but I don't know how _

Anyway, my other-newer Kingdom Hearts stories will be updated in due time. This little oneshot/drabble- whatever I decide it to be has just been on my mind for a while. Though I think it may end up being multiple chapters anyway.

I really didn't want this under M, but there was no way of writing this without going into explicit detail. Whoopsy daisy.

POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR KH3D… just a warning. I don't know what I'll write so I'll just put this here and now.

Sliced

Sora shuddered at the thought of when he first met the Heartless. Those inky black creatures with yellow orbs for eyes, and claws as sharp as a sword. He didn't know anything about them except for the terrible feeling he got in his gut while around them. So, when one tore into his arm he was in for a painful awakening.

It wasn't as though he hadn't been cut before. Sora could recall nearly cutting his finger to the bone while trying to make his mother her favorite meal. Or the time he and Riku were making arts and crafts with Kairi, it was her idea, and Sora mishandled some scissors. It had hurt, but nothing could compare to having a large red line from his elbow to his wrist.

Maybe it was the shock and adrenaline that saved him because after about an hour of running, the pain finally began to set in, but by this time he had already poured a potion on the wound and all that remained had been an incredible throbbing on his arm.

Sora didn't know how long he was bleeding, but he did recall having a large portion of his shirt dyed red. In fact, there had been a lot of blood and he wasn't sure if the Heartless tracked him by his Keyblade or the trail alone.

Being a warrior meant having a few battle scars. In the stories he used to read that was a part of their appearance. An iconic line over the eye, or a cool X on their face seemed to be the most popular. He even wished he could have one to show off too.

Be careful what you wish for they said.

By the time Sora had finally managed to rescue Kairi, he had his fair share, and none were as fancy or cool as the stories portrayed. Interrupted Cures meant botched jobs and splotches on his skin. Sometimes the scab would puff a little, or in some freak cases the wound would have to heal naturally which greatly impaired his mobility.

Saix, Leon, Auron, and Xigbar scared him. Or rather, they left Sora weary and uncomfortable. Something had to happen for them to get those scars, something painful. Xigbar's seemed more like insane burn marks. It was no wonder they all had a dangerous personality, because like him, something happened that left those probably still painful scars. Even if the physical pain wasn't there, the mental had to be.

Donald and Goofy repeatedly told him it was fine, and that appearances shouldn't matter and all that jazz. But they were animals with fur and feathers to cover their wounds. Sora only had a thin layer of skin and nearly nonexistent body hair.

Due to the nature of potions and cures, the pain didn't always go away either. Sure the wound would be mended, but after the heat of battle wore off, Sora felt as though he was eighty years older, and wanted to just take a long nap. Being asleep for a year didn't exactly help either. It only made his body stiff and it was like learning how to walk properly again.

After being reunited with his friends back home, he wasn't even sure if he wanted to ask Riku about his. It wasn't as though he had companions to heal him every step of the way, or someone to hug him when he was shivering from nightmares. He was alone, in darkness, and had to deal with the villains he saved for last on a daily basis.

Sometimes, Sora hated being the hero.