The Mayor
by volta arovet
a Kingdom Hearts story
Rating: PG
Warnings: vague spoilers for Kairi's past, I suppose
Word count: 900

They called him the Mayor on Destiny Island. They called him this for the good reason that he was the mayor, and he had long come to terms with the strange feeling of being promoted past a name. They called him "Mayor," or "Mr. Mayor," or, by one special little girl, "Daddy."

And this was fortunate, for when he woke on a storm-mussed shore with both his daughter and his heart stolen away, the loss of "Reeve" was no further hardship.

"Mr. Mayor?" a girl asked.

It wasn't his name, but it also wasn't not his name, so something in that quavering voice started to wake him.

"Is he breathing?" someone else asked. Young voice, much deeper than the first. Kairi's friend Wakka?

There was heat near his face, a scent of salt and sweat. "I can't tell." That was definitely Tidus. The boy grabbed his wrist, fingers wrapping around the back of his hand and digging into the soft flesh beneath his watch's band, and the pain was so great his jaw clenched shut and a thin whine caught in his throat. "I can't find a pulse!"

"My. Mayor!" the girl cried again-he placed the voice: Selphie, another of Kairi's friends.

He shoved Tidus' hand away and sat up with a groan; the children all gasped and backed away. "I'm fine," he said with an unusual gruffness. It wasn't true, but it was the most useful thing to say.

"That's not normal, ya?" Wakka whispered, sliding slightly in front of Selphie.

"What happened to you?" Selphie asked.

"Where's Kairi?" Tidus demanded.

"Kairi's...missing?" he asked, and he remembered the night he had pulled her from that raft, had held her close, how her heart beat fast like a bird's but her hands were so cold, and he felt...

"Excuse me," he said, lurching to his feet and stumbling past the children. They let him pass without a word, not even moving to lend a hand when the loose sand stole his feet from beneath him.

Somewhere to the east, Sora's mother was calling for him, her voice growing increasingly desperate as the morning wore on. He walked to his home, right leg dragging a broken trail through the sand. His summer home was little more than a cottage, albeit whimsically designed and fantastically crafted, tucked into a tree grove next to the waterfall. The walls were made of a flexible composite, and as the trees grew, the walls grew too, stretching and reaching their way to the skies.

The mayor opened his front door, and he remembered the too-frequent nights when he would take the midnight ferry back from the mainland, and Kairi would still be awake, greeting him with a sleepy-eyed "Welcome home," and he felt...

She wasn't there, but there was a mirror hanging just beyond the entryway, and he finally understood the children's reactions. His hair, normally a rich, dark mahogany, was shot through with gray. His nose was perhaps a bit more aquiline, his skin a touch more tan, and his eyes...

His eyes were a flat green, and when he turned, they reflected light, like a cat's. He drew back, lips pulling from his teeth in a grimace, and he saw that his straight white teeth had become sharper, meaner. He felt...

He left the empty house, door slamming, echoing through the rooms that had been too big for one, just right for two, and nothing now for no one. He ignored the protests of his right leg as he limped through the backtrails for the island. He ignored Riku's father, who was joining the search, ignored how the shadows swirled and scattered in impossible patterns.

He crossed the platforms perfect for jumping, passed the support beams perfect for climbing, and the houses, the overhangs, the pool, all designed to be a child's perfect play place. He had designed it all, and they had loved him for it, and he had stayed for them, and later, stayed for her.

He entered the Secret Place, perfect for any child with an imagination, and there

There, the door was open, and Kairi's purse lay on the floor. And as the shadows flowed through, gaining twisting limbs and copper coin eyes, the mayor reached back through his memory, the years of fatherhood, of tears and scraped knees and sunny smiles, of watching her peaceful sleep and wondering when, not if, she would be called back to where she came from, and he felt...

He felt nothing.

The shadows spilled out onto the beach, passing around him as through he were no more interesting than a log stuck in a stream.

People were screaming somewhere. He couldn't tell who-there were too many of the shadow creatures pouring from the broken heart of the island, covering everything in winding black.

He leaned on the cave's edge, easing the pressure on his aching right leg. The shadows pressed against the ground, questing fingers slipping to the sand, heads bobbing up and down, and he thought for a moment that they might be praying.

A chunk of the beach broke off, drifting away into nothing, and he realized that the shadows were eating the land.

And as the sky darkened and crumbled like ashes from a cold fire, the man who had been Reeve watched the home he had built slip away, and he knew, knew, that even if one day it were saved, he still wouldn't care.