Summary: The family needed a new start, and so did the house. They cleaned it up and began their lives. However, one can not get rid of all memories. A boy with sad eyes still wishes for a family, but he is beyond their world and sight. Only the piano at night tells of him, but is the music enough to calm the saddened souls?
Warning; This fanfiction is set in an Alternate Universe to the Kingdom Hearts/Final Fantasy 7 story line. It may or will contain the following: Character death, mentions of death, ghosts, religion, angst, blood, gore, violence, cursing, homosexual relationships, heterosexual relationships, moments of cannon characters being out of character, family bonds, love, hate, and the longing for a friend. If you do not like what has been mentioned, please do not read this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy 7, or Advent Children (same thing I know). I am not affiliated with Disney or Square Enix in anyway. This piece of fanfiction was written for pure entertainment purposes.
Every house tells a story. A story that is alive, a story that will continue to grow and be told, even long after the house is empty. The story only ends when the house is gone, not even a brick remaining.
It was an old house, built in the 20s, the structure was large and ornate, made for a well-to-do family at the time. For generations, the same family lived in it, raising happy and healthy children. Each child had their own dreams and ambitions for the big world that was at their fingertips. As adults, they would come back to their childhood home, amazed that nothing had changed in the years they'd been gone. They'd stay with loved ones as they passed on, and then raised families of their own. The cycle would begin again.
However, there was one son who could not have children. He never found the woman right for him, not as an adult at least. Instead of living his years alone, he adopted a baby boy from a local orphanage. He raised the boy with such care that no one could tell that he wasn't the father. Emotionally, that is. In appearance, they were day and night.
But father and son still loved each other. That was all any family could wish for, love.
The young boy grew up in a loving home. He spent many nights being told stories of the family that had gave the house so much life. Pictures from every year from when the house was built, to the day he was adopted, were littering the walls. The boy would always smile as he looked into the eyes of men and women that he knew, but would never meet.
It was a perfect life.
But it is not his life that is worth telling about. It is the time after his life was gone.
The boy had caught a terrible fever and died young. Never again would those cerulean eyes gaze up lovingly to his father, to the photos of his family, to the beautiful chandelier that hung in the parlor. The neighbors would never hear that tinkle of laughter from the back yard. The sound of the piano that both father and son were so fond of would never play again.
When the son was gone, the father could not stay any longer. He did not want to be alone. Once the boy's body was buried within the cold ground, father took his own life.
No one stepped foot into the house for years. Weather and sun took its toll on the outside. Age and neglect wore away the inside. No longer was it a loving home. It was merely a forgotten house.
Author's Notes: Yes, I have started a new fanfic. I had some ideas and I wanted to write it down very soon, or else I would forget. I know, no characters are officially mentioned, but they will be in the next chapter. This is only a prologue, names were not important. Though if you know of the original cannon storyline, you could possibly make guesses at who is who.
I will hope to have a new chapter up soon. Thank you for reading, and please leave me some reviews/critique.