Title is a song from the Lion King 2 soundtrack and also fits Reylo quite well, in my opinion!

Partial inspiration from these Tumblr posts:

post/168735078368/star-wars-is-following-in-the-footsteps-of-the

post/168765143798/if-we-could-get-a-scene-like-this-in-episode-xi

.

.

The Boy did not belong. Against those who passed him by, with their rough expressions and rougher appearances, he stuck out. The defiant rips in the clothes that were just too small for him, the dirt rubbed into the hems of trousers that showed an inch of ankle, weren't enough to disguise the truth. He didn't belong.

At the edge of a square bathed in evening light, the Boy looked around with a closed face. If his parents could have seen where he was... His nose twitched, pushing his expression into a sneer. They still wouldn't have cared. Boarder was the middle ground between Outland and Pride and he'd been told many a time that it was filled with the worst characters - the people who would smile in your face and stab you in the back. At least, that was what his father said.

The world turned dark as the sun sank below a building and the Boy was thrown into darkness. Blinking his eyes again the sudden change, he considered the sunset. By the time he'd walked all the way home, it would be late, perhaps even late enough for his mother to have got back and started to worry. For a second his heart twisted in guilt, but he shoved it aside with a wave of memories of absent nights. No, his mother wouldn't be back for hours. There was always something else for her to do. Something more important than him. He could stay a bit longer.

Pushing away from the wall he'd been lounging against, the Boy slouched off across the square, feeling the tickle of a chill evening breeze around his ankles and on his ears. Always his ears. Scowling, he took a turn at random and was hit in the chest by a figure with flying brown hair.

The force of the impact was enough to send him staggering back a step and the other person stumbled sideways, nearly recovered themselves, then tripped and sprawled over the ground. A bag that had been slung over their shoulder burst open and various oddly-shaped objects went rolling over the ground. With a curse, the figure scrambled up again, grabbing things and stuffing them back into the bag as fast as they could.

The Boy bent down, hand outstretched to help, but then snatched his fingers back as if burned as he recognised the symbol carved into a golden inset of a cup. He raised his eyes to the other figure and found brown eyes glaring at him.

The Girl snatched up the goblet and advanced on him.

"What are you looking at, Prider?" she spat, prowling further forwards. Her eyes were burning.

The Boy backed away steadily but didn't avert his own gaze.

Eyes still fixed on him, the Girl reached down, fingers somehow unerringly finding the final pieces of her treasure without looking. Stowing them carefully in her bag, she pushed him even further back until the Boy felt a wall behind him. Her eyes flashed again.

"This is the part where you run," she growled.

"Never turn your back on an Outsider!" the Boy shot back and instantly regretted it.

The Girl let out a bark of laughter. "Hah! Did your mummy teach you that?"

"No!" the Boy shot back defiantly. It was true. It was his father's phrase.

"Bet she did. Bet you're mummy's precious little boy," the Girl continued, drawing back.

"Where are your parents?" the Boy shot back. She was even younger than him. "Do they know you're out here, that you've been in there?" His eyes darted towards her bag.

For an instant, her face froze. The confrontation didn't fade from her expression, but her eyes went wide with hurt. The look was wiped away quickly.

"I take care of myself," she snorted, drawing herself up and tossing her head, sending an errant piece of hair flying back from her face.

The Boy looked past her, following the motion, and saw something else behind her.

"Really?" he said. "You going to take care of them by yourself?"

The Girl whipped round and the patrol guards coming towards them broke into a run.

"You two! Stop!" they shouted, feet pounding closer.

"I'm not with her!" the Boy spluttered.

"They don't know that," the Girl called, already several feet away and gaining speed.

The Boy looked from her to the guards and back, thinking of the symbol he'd seen on the cup. Would they believe he had nothing to do with here?

With a curse, he spun around and raced after her. Despite having several years on her age and at least a foot on her height, it was all he could do to keep up as she fled, weaving expertly through the evening crowds, slipping down alleyways and around obstacles.

When she finally slowed to a halt, they were both panting.

"That was a close one," the Boy said, glancing up at the rough walls on either side of them before looking at the Girl.

She wasn't paying attention, busy watching the end of the alleyway. She cursed again—a word the Boy had only heard from his father once before his mother had told him off for it—then she turned and ran again. The Boy followed her at once, glancing back to see the guards running down the alley after them.

Left, right, right, over a wall, left again, between two buildings so close together he had to turn sideways to get between them. Still the patrol followed them, seeming to know their every possible route. For all the Girl's passages and quick turns, they couldn't shake them.

Eventually, the boy saw a dark passage and grabbed the Girl's arm, dragging her into it.

"Hey! This—"

Shoving her back against the wall, he clapped a hand across her mouth, forcing her head sideways, his other arm across her shoulders. She struggled but he held her firmly, going still as he stared at the wall over her head, and she gradually froze as well. He didn't even notice.

Don't see us, don't see us, don't see us, don't see us, don't see us...

Hard feet came closer, the patrol guards pausing as they glanced into each passage. Neither the Boy nor the Girl breathed, her from fear, him from concentration.

Don't see us, don't see us, don't see us.

The Guards moved on, still seeking their quarry, oblivious to the two figures.

Don't see us, don't see us.

I see you.

The Boy opened his eyes, looking slowly around. The Guards were gone and the other voice... he must have imagined it.

Looking back down at the Girl, he released her carefully.

"They didn't see us," she whispered, peering along to where the soldiers had indeed passed them by.

The Boy made an ambiguous noise in his throat, reaching out a curious hand towards the bag at her side.

WHAM!

His nose exploded in pain. Raising a hand blindly towards his face, he staggered back two steps before sitting down hard.

"Ow," he said thickly, probing his stinging nose, hoping it wasn't broken. As his vision cleared, he blinked and saw the Girl standing over him, hand still hovering in front of her. "I was only looking," he said.

Her mouth worked for a moment then she dropped her hand.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked, her voice sharp again.

"What do you mean?"

"Your clothes, your... everything. You're not from here, so what are you doing?"

The Boy flushed, climbing quickly back to his feet. It didn't help.

"What are you doing here? And what are you doing with all that stuff from the Old Temple?"

"What?" It was the Girl's turn to draw back now, uncertain.

"All that stuff, the symbol on it. It came from the Old Temple. So... what, you're a thief?"

"I'm not a thief!" she snapped. "No one is there, no one uses that stuff. I'm just... scavenging it."

"Whatever you want to call it," the Boy said. "Sell it in Pride, even at the worst price, and you'd have enough to live anywhere. So what are you doing here?"

"It's not for me. It's a... I'm... I work for the Hyenas."

The Boy's eyebrows rose. He'd seen members of the gang hanging around, the laughing heads branded onto their arms. They weren't the sort of company he'd expected her to keep.

"With that stuff, you could get out," he pointed out. "Just leave, they won't find you."

"I can't leave," she said, glancing away. "I'm... I'm waiting." Another shifty glance. "For my family to come back."

The Boy snorted. "Family isn't always all it's said to be." He regretted the words immediately if only because of the look on her face.

"Is that why you're here?" she asked.

He crossed his arms then dropped them back to his sides, his shirt too small to comfortably allow the movement. "They don't care," he said brusquely. "They don't care what I do."

The Girl just looked at him. He turned away, suddenly wishing for something to block her gaze, a wall, or a mask, something to stop her seeing straight through to his soul.

"They're going to send me away anyway," he blurted out. "To my Uncle. For... training, or something."

She was still watching him. He finally found the courage to meet her gaze and lost himself instantly.

"Well," the Girl said, and he shook himself. "Things to do. Might see you around." She turned and walked away while he was still trying to work out what had happened. The dark alley was suddenly empty as if she'd never been there at all.

"Who are you?" the Boy asked, but there was no one there to reply.

Who are you?

The Boy stiffened, looking around, but there was no one. Just that same voice.

It was nearly dark now. Quickly, he turned and hurried away.

Who are you?

No matter how fast he feet went, he couldn't outrun the voice.

Who are you?

Who are you?

Who are you, Ben?

"Who are you?" the Boy spun in the middle of the empty road, shouting the words to the darkness.

A face flashed before his eyes. Pale mottled flesh, a bulbous forehead, sunken cheeks, a twisted scar.

Someone who can teach you far more than your Uncle can.

The Boy hesitated, feeling the presence pulling closer, wrapping around him, inside him, poking at a hidden part deep inside. He followed it, reaching out to the previously untouched depths and a wonderful feeling infused him.

It was warmth, and closeness, and Power. It was like the darkness of the night sky outside had infused his very being, wrapping him tightly and he knew it would never ever let him go. It would never throw him away.

I can teach you.

Then the voice was gone, leaving the Boy alone, trembling in the middle of the darkness.

.

.

A/N: Please review! Follow if you want to get notifications of updates, and favourites are also much appreciated! I have plans to continue this if there is interest, so let me know!

(Note that in the main part of the story, I plan on having Kylo as Kovu and Rey as Kiara, but they are the other way around in this chapter, because it fits better with their situation at the time.)