White Thestral: Hello everybody! I know I should be working on Fade Out (blushes) but this idea for a fic kept bugging me and getting in the way of me trying to work on Fade Out. I'm going to get this chapter out of my head for now. If you don't like this story, blame my English teacher because she told me about the whole 'skeleton in the closet' thingybob, which is, for anyone who doesn't know, is something like an inner demon. Oh, by the way, the next chapter for Fade Out is on it's way, so expect in a few days.

Warning: Blood, gore, and MAJOR angst.

Pov: Usagi

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this story.

Chapter 1: Revival

I shouldn't be here.

My every instinct is screaming for me to bolt and get out of this brightly-lit room with it's cold, smooth and unforgiving tiles. I know people are giving me strange looks, because I'm standing in the middle of the room, holding my suitcase and staring straight ahead blankly. A man holding a cellphone to his ear shoved me roughly, making me stumble and jar a couple of young teenagers. They screeched and glared at me like I'd committed a top-ten crime. I gave them the full receiving end of my blank, icy stare. The little snot-nosed brats shifted uncomfortably, then scampered off in the opposite direction.

Inwardly, I sneered in amusement and contempt, then stopped. What kind of monster was I becoming? I schooled my face to blankness and continued to watch the crowd.

It's been seven long years since I've been to Destiny Islands, and since I left the people I cared about here. Care. It's become such a foreign word to me. The orphanage I lived in gave me plenty of time to mull that over. That hellhole that they dared call a home for children was a living nightmare. It had just been so...dull. So bleak, without hope or light. We were all like soldiers, marching in single file. No one was talking, or laughing, or pushing each other. Everyone moved like robots, without thoughts or feelings.

It would have almost been funny if it hadn't been so frightening.

I looked at my watch. It's 5:30, and you're still not here, Sora. Almost everyone on the airport is watching me from the corner of their eyes. I sighed mentally and retired to a chair. The room isn't cold, but I am. I'm freezing inside, a great blizzard that's made me numb to anything that's filled with light or warmth.

But you, Sora...You could always drive away the storm with a simple kind word or a merry glance from your blue eyes. When you're here, I'm not alone in my mind with only the whispering voices of madness. You drive my demons away and let the light back into my eyes. You're my savior, Sora, and you don't even know it.

It's 5:45 now. Sora, where could you be? You said you'd be here by now. Are you going to abandon me now, alone and defenseless in this tiled prison with these strange people and their hostile glances? The thought of you is all that's kept me going on the long, freezing nights with only a ragged bit of blanket and a patch of moonlight.

5:50. I'm starting to quiver inside. What if you forgot me? I can tell you now that my heart would break and my sanity would be reduced to ashes. What's left of my sanity, anyway. It's beginning to get dark out, and my spirits are getting dark as well.

No. Sora would not abandon me like that. Sora would NEVER do that.

It's 6:00. There's hardly anyone here now. I'm one of the last ones left. A corner of my mouth lifted at the ironic humor. I'm always one of the last ones left. Always left alone crying and bleeding pitifully. No one has ever stopped to give me a second glance or the benefit of a doubt.

I can't do this anymore. I'm going to crack, I know it—

"Hey, Usagi!" Like a beacon in the dark, Sora's voice splits through the gathering gloom in my soul. He's jogging toward me now, and I can't help but marvel at how he's changed. He let his hair grow, for one thing, and now it's a spiky brown mop that's getting in his eyes. Sora's taller and lankier, but he's still got that sweet, goofy grin and his large and unwavering cerulean blue eyes. The icy numbness within me is starting to thaw at his presence, and I can feel tears of joy starting to fill my eyes and start to spill over.

"I'm sorry I'm late! The car broke down and I had to drag Riku's lazy butt out of the back seat and get him to fix it, and he put up a great big fuss about it, the old— Usagi, what's the matter? You're crying." Sora reached out and hugged me to his chest. I inhaled his scent; he smells like the sea and fresh air and freedom. He peers into my eyes soulfully.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Later," I replied. Much, much later. I added in my head. And with luck, never. I wormed out of his embrace, though it pained me to leave his arms. I already missed his warmth. Sora looked ready to pursue the subject, but I grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the exit.

I had been revived from my freezing sleep of death. For now.

White Thestral: Like it? Hate it? I know it doesn't make much sense, but I'm working on that. Oops, I mean after I finish working on Fade Out.

Sora: (springs out of nowhere) Good! Now get to work! (pokes author with Keyblade)

White: HEY! Geez, no need to manhandle. (mutters under breath) Ungrateful character...

Sora: (pokes author again, this time harder)

White: Alright already! I'm working on it! (types furiously while grumbling about— Well, you don't want to know)

Review, please!