AN: Inspired from looking at pictures. Enjoy

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Kingdom Hearts. Square-Enix does.

Dear Diary,

Hmmm…Today wasn't as nice as I thought it would be. I was supposed to go surfing with Braig today, but I was told he was busy with lab work. I thought about going to see Ael then. But then Ael went out for the day to go look for something to burn or something…

I wonder why Braig is so busy these days. Ienzo has been gone a while, too! If this keeps going, I'll have to hang out with Lumaria! And Lumaria's a pansy. But don't tell him I said that! He'd probably stick some of the poison ivy crap in my sweater or something. Or he'd get that weird Ralene girl to kill me. Her hair is really blonde…

OH! We were talking about Braig's work weren't we? URGH! I don't see why he's so interested in that research stuff anyways. He should go back to surfing, like we used to when he was all nice to me! Ever since he started working overtime for Ansem the Wise, all he's been is no fun and games. Well…that's a lie; we still go to the beach and just hang out in the sun. But I don't like just sitting there, I'd rather play music. Braig hates that sorta stuff, though. He says it's too boring.

I don't care what he says.

I'm still gonna play the si

"DYME!"

A hunched figure perked up at the sound of his name. He peered around the sheltering tree that supported him and looked around energetically. He had been hoping it was Prof. Braig or Ienzo, but it was that guy Rulod. No one really paid any attention to Rulod. Sure, he was Ansem the Wise's son, but he was a wild child. Gambler, drunkard, and sometimes known to be the town playboy. Dyme didn't like him so much.

"What are you doing sittin' around on your bloody arse?" he yelled. Dyme flinched at the tone. He didn't like yelling. "One of my Father's researchers was looking for your ruddy mug!" Dyme liked this, however.

The dirty blonde quickly shoved his dairy back into the book bag he had, slipping on his flip-flops and running awkwardly in the direction of the lab. Rulod mumbled something among the lines of "rude" and "retarded git". But Dyme could not hear his snide remarks. All that was on his mind was the possibility of making his day a lot better than it turned out.

I wonder if it's. Briag!, he thought. Maybe we can go back to those surfing lessons he promised!

In his rush to get to the laboratory, Dyme had bumped into a familiar figure. He stumbled backwards and automatically grabbed his face. It didn't hurt, but it was a reflex for his frail body. He looked up once he realized he'd been alright and smiled cheerfully.

"Hiya, Dilan!" The figure – or rather, Dilian – jutted his chin upwards as acknowledgement. Dyme's smile widened before he swiveled around Dilan and kept on running. The man was still in his lab coat uniform, so that meant Ansem's assistants had been dismissed. Eventually, Dyme skidded to a halt as he reached the big factory. It was like a maze inside, and he dared not venture inside after that encounter with Even. Ienzo had rescued him that day, and that was Dyme's bonding moment with the small teenager.

He remembered Ienzo's blank stare. It made him feel like holes were being burned into his head. It was an awkward sensation, but somewhat soothing at the same time. Even had crawled back into the shadows of the maze grumpily and Ienzo had shown Dyme the way out of the factory.

"What do you guys do in there anyway?" Dyme had asked. Ienzo was silent for a few moments, but spoke faintly.

"…We're reasearching the heart…"

"Oh…so anatomy?"

"No…you wouldn't understand."

Dyme clearly remembered being offended, but Ienzo had stalked back into the factory before he could say anything. Dyme didn't try to follow him; his conscious said it was best left alone. But Dyme was still very curious about the big old factory on the edge of town. He'd visit it every other day, and on rare occasions, would see people like Ienzo pop in and out.

That's when he had met Braig. Dyme had been sitting on the edge of the brick rails when he heard whistling and creaking. He'd almost fallen off in shock, but quickly caught himself. He saw a man with a bandage on his face walk out. He had sleek black hair pulled back into a high ponytail, but it was sloppy. Pieces of hair were trailing down his neck and back. He was looking at the ground until Dyme had called out to him.

"What's a brat like you doing out here?" Dyme always took notice that people around this area weren't to friendly. But he shrugged it off. Since then, the same guy would pop outside the factory just to make fun or tease Dyme. Dyme learned his name was Briag…

"So what do you guys actually do in that big ol' factory?" The day Dyme had asked this question was the day when he noticed a white hair among Braig's black ones. He wasn't all that old either. He acted like a kid, but he wasn't old. Maybe it was stress…

"It's not a factory, shrimp. It's a laboratory. Ya know -- the kind of place where you do experiments?"

"I'm not stupid!"

"Coulda fooled me, kid. Coulda fooled me…

Dyme didn't know what he had done, but Braig had become friendlier to him. But not so much. He still teased and picked on the little kid, but Dyme didn't mind so much. Dyme was always the follower of the group. But Briag knew this. He pitied the young boy and took him under his wing. Affectionate, you could say…

The place was big. It had never seemed that big to Dyme before. Or maybe it was just the butterflies in his stomach that made him go loopy. He waited outside and against the door for a few moments, until the door pushed forward. Dyme squealed in surprise and was greeted by an exaggerated sigh.

"Stop waiting against the door," It was Ienzo. "you'll wind up hurting yourself even more."

"Ienzo! Has Braig – " By the time Dyme was halfway through his question, he saw Ienzo already going down the stairs with his face buried into a book. Dyme pouted grumpily and sat against the door again. By the time Braig had gotten out, the sun was beginning to set. He had pushed the door open and woken up a sleeping Dyme.

"Kid," he sighed in exasperation. "what the hell are ya doin' here? I thought I told you I was gonna be busy today!"

Dyme's sleepy but happy face had fallen at these words. "I wanted to come out and see you…" he murmured in a hurt voice. "Rulod had said you were out looking for me…"

"Rulod?" Braig's face twisted into a frown. "That whiney bitch? He stomped outta here today when Ansem the Wise rejected him to join the Assistance Crew. I guess he tricked ya." Dyme looked sadder at this comment. He'd been duped again, just like the other days. Braig sighed again and ruffled his spiky hair.

"Listen kid. How 'bout we go down to the beach and just watch the sunset?" Dyme perked to the touch and smiled gleefully. Briag simply chuckled at how easily Dyme lit up. "We can even get Seasalt ice cream just for this once, ya hear?"

"You're paying though!" Dyme giggled and tugged Braig down the stairs, with Braig yelling at him all the way.

When they had arrived, the sun was almost past the horizon. Blood soaked into the sky and there was a hue of purple amongst it. Dyme uttered an exclamation of excitement as Braig smiled. His face faltered, though, as he looked into the sky.

"Dyme, what do ya think is out there?"

Dyme was taken aback by this. He paused for a second and lapped up the melting juice of his popsicle.

"I dunno, maybe other worlds? But that's sorta silly, isn't it?"

"Nah, I agree with ya," Dyme choked on his popsicle and coughed hysterically.

"YOU AGREE?" he cried and Braig looked at him from the corners of his eyes. He closed his eyes before looking back at the darkening sky.

"Yea…maybe someday we'll be able to go there. Maybe…when this world comes to an end, we can escape somewhere to be happy…" Braig's eyes became glazed over and he let out a rasping breath.

"Okay. You're a little weirder than usual, Braig!" Dyme laughed and was happy to see Briag crack a small smile.

"Guess you're right, kid. Let's go home."

These are my opinions on what the Organization 13's Others were. If you had different thoughts on their names, that's nice.