Disclaimer : Kingdom Hearts is the property of Square Enix and Disney.

Waltz for the Moon

The moon is shining high up in the night's sky, casting shadows over the city. There is not a single cloud to be seen, as was the nature of this place, allowing all the diminished beams of light to touch the ground below. The air around him is hushed, as silent as death itself and perhaps just as solemn. To him, it is a perfect picture of absolute serenity.

Even with the bits of light, the city is still an ominous sight of darkness, dim and murky compared to the castle. Everywhere he turns, there are shadows dancing quietly in every corner. No part of the city is free of them, not even the place he is watching from his perch on the roof. Feeling his knees protesting, he gets up, stretching his now sore limbs.

One step forward, then another two.

He pays no mind to the mute shadows crawling at his feet, walking easily over them without a second thought. His mind is considering a different matter, one he deems far more important than the pitiful imitations of darkness the shadows are.

In one quick movement, he jumps down and lands easily on his feet, not staggering and never losing his balance. It is not his first time out in what he assumes is the middle of the night, for one can never be sure of the time in this world, when all the others are sound asleep. The reason he chooses to conduct his routinely exercises at this time is because, although he cares little for the other members' opinions of him, he prefers privacy when he does it.

One foot goes in front of the other, stop once the center is reached.

Inhaling deeply, he closes his eyes and tries to picture his next move in his mind, drawing in every detail of the image. The action of mentally preparing himself is no longer compulsory as calming himself before beginning is not necessary anymore. The only reason he continues to do it is out of the sheer force of habit he had unknowingly developed. That, and for old times' sake. He stays like that, standing perfectly still with his eyes closed, for a moment more, letting the minutes tick by him. When he feels it is time, he opens his eyes, ready.

One step and it all begins.

The dance is familiar, one he has been doing for as far back as his mind allow him to remember. His mind is flooded by the sudden rush of memories as everything rushes back, images of his Other during the festive seasons back in his original homeland. There is so much to remember all at once that he finds himself temporarily blinded by them. His eyes have stopped registering the setting around him and he moves with assured confidence.

Three steps forward and spin. Three steps backwards and spin.

Picking up speed, he moves faster and faster, guided by the visions in his mind's eye. No longer is he aware of what he is doing, his movements becoming automatic as he obediently follows, falling into a sort of trance. There is very little breeze, even at his current speed, but he can vividly remember the wind's soft, caressing touch lingering mockingly on the surface of his skin.

Spins, spin, spin, skip a step backwards and spin once more.

There is a melancholy taste in his mouth, sweet and bitter at the same time. The memories keep coming, and each new wave seems more and more like a lucid dream than repeated images in his mind. With it comes an old longing, as empty as the being he has become, filled with a tired feeling of need and want merged so complexly together that he can no longer tell them apart.

Right foot, left foot, right and right.

Suddenly, the still air is filled with compressed energy, humming with static as the atmosphere around him alters itself. This does not take him by surprise; he has been waiting for it, after all. With one brief thought, he opens his eyes, weapon appearing in his hand just as the air bursts into a firework of power. The floor gives a violent shudder and Shadows slink out, their numbers multiplying at an impressive speed. Soon, separate figures merge into one and an uncountable amount of Heartless make their way towards him. He tightens his grip on his weapon, assuming a fighting stance, and swings it down on top of them.

Throw forward all the weight in the body, hold nothing back.

The Shadows he kills disappear and are replaced instantly by another even as the former fades back into the darkness. They come relentlessly, lashing out with their claws at him. Their eyes stand out against the sheet of black so many Shadows have formed, detached yellow orbs that gaze impassively as he takes out one after another of their kind.

Make sure the footwork is neat, no mistakes can be allowed.

Rapidly, the situation changes and he finds himself teetering on a thin wall, each side holding a different view. He makes his decision fast and without warning, he leaps high up into the sky, cutting through the air. Now he is reacting purely on instinct rather than relying on the memories of his Other. The image of his former self falls apart, vanishing back to the furthest edge of his mind and for now, he is allowed to forget about it.

Position the body, the hands at the right angle, and push down on the ground.

The floor gives another shudder, this time much more violent than the last and he thinks he can hear it make cracking sounds. Heartless are flung backwards, away from him but he doesn't stay in one spot for long, already jumping back up into the air. Quickly, he repeats the earlier movements and from there, everything falls into place. The second time his feet touches the floor, he leaps forwards, lunging towards his enemies.

Jump a little after every swing but keep advancing, don't turn back, don't look behind.

Adrenaline rushes through every part of him, luring him in their direction, and he lets it. A heated force burns under his skin, and he shifts position again, attacks becoming wilder, more unpredictable than before. The Shadows are vanishing much faster now and he starts to see their numbers lessening. He pushes harder, twisting and turning in the air and striking at anything within his range. When there is only a few left for him to kill, he rises into the air one last time.

One fluid movement is all it takes and he ends it.

Looking up, he sees the last of the Heartless disappear. He is panting slightly, out of breath, and his muscles feel exhausted, tired from the previous straining. Slowly, he uncurls numb fingers from the hilt of his weapon, letting it return to wherever it is it originated from. The air around him is silent once more, changing back into a more tranquil state.

When the last bits of burning energy leaves him, he gives a little smile to himself, satisfied. He raises his eyes to meet the gaze of his sole audience, the only one he is willing to share his midnight exercise with. He murmurs a quiet dedication, reaching the finale to his dance, before bending down, bowing to the moon.

One bow and the waltz for the moon is over.

Fin

Originally a short poem of some sort, this idea somehow evolved into a story, and here it is. Tell me, my good reader, did this work?