AkuRoku weirdness, to cure the sanity. It just came out; I wasn't even meaning to write fanfiction, but since when does my mind ever listen to me? Please. Functioning brains are so last year.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, and I don't want to. Munny is also last year. Now, it's all about making yourself happy. Imagine that!

Did I ever tell you about the one that got away?

Of course I didn't. Why would I? It's not like it's some fisherman's yarn, something I tell the grandkids when their parents take a holiday. It's real; it really happened. I bet it would be okay to say, now; it's not like I'm going to be around for very much longer. This time I'm using – it's not even borrowed. I stole it, and it's only a matter of time before someone takes it back. I might as well return it on my own terms, right?

Besides; we're not friends. You only know me as 'that guy the other guy warned me about.' Maybe you really did memorize my name. But you know, I really don't care about that. You're not the one that got away.

This one – the one that got away, I mean – his name is Roxas. Was Roxas. I have to use the past tense now, because even though he's standing right in front of me his name's not Roxas any more. You and he share the same name now.

So, here's how the story goes.

Once upon a time, there was a Princess who washed up on an island after her kingdom was destroyed. She lost her memories, and so she didn't know she was a Princess, but she was good and kind and made lots of friends. But trouble tended to follow the Princess, and her new home was destroyed in the same way.

This time, the Princess wasn't so lucky, and she was destroyed as well; but there was a boy, a simple peasant boy whose fate was much greater than anyone else's, and he saved her. But in doing so, he had to give up his own heart; she gave it back, of course, but by then, he'd already unleashed his darkness.

But you already had that memorized, didn't you? That's your part.

And guess what? That darkness had a name. That darkness was my partner, Roxas. He was the one I spent most of my days with; he was the one I spent my nights with. He liked sea-salt ice cream but he hated to be cold, and his eyes were darker than yours. He was blond instead of brunet, and he didn't need any help using two Keyblades. In short, he was better than you will ever be. Maybe I'm just biased; but can you blame me? I don't think you can.

And then, he started asking questions. Even if I hadn't been ordered not to answer, I wouldn't have. You have to understand – I didn't want him to become you. Like I said, he was better than you. Better, stronger, fiercer. More beautiful. And so for a long time it was all about you don't need to know.

Then, your stupid friend came along. Roxas was there, was mine, and your stupid friend came along. And that night, it was all about where are you going?

And, of course, to find myself, but I don't know much about living – but I know that no one like us ever comes back from the place they find themselves. You don't have a self, Roxas. So don't go looking for something that'll just erase you.

Maybe it would've been easier to make him stay if I was a fisherman; I could've hooked him somehow, and then he would be trapped. But all I had to slip into his mouth was another kiss, and something so soft just slipped right back out when it was over. I didn't expect it to work, but I wanted it to work anyway. No, that's a lie; I just wanted to do it.

And of course, your stupid friend came round again and why do you use the Keyblade, and that just pissed off the true fisherman. He hooked me, and now here we are, with the old look, ma, no hands!

"Watch this."

I could tell you all of this, but now that I think about it, you don't really deserve the story. You couldn't handle it anyway; you don't even know and you're crying, saying my name like it actually means something to you. I'm nothing to you, because it's

"Not that Nobodies actually have beings, right?"

And anyway, to you, it'd just be a fairytale because of the once upon a time and the one that got away.

You know, I'd like to say I hate him for getting away, but who am I kidding? I'm not capable of hating anything.

You have to be able to love something, first.

That takes a heart, but as you know, I

"Haven't got one."