Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts. Kingdom Hearts and all Kingdom Hearts characters that may be mentioned in this story belong to Square Enix. All other characters belong to me.

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Guardian

A Kingdom Hearts Story

Prologue

"Figures," he grumbled as he stepped outside. "It would rain on my day off." It was pouring, the roads were already slick and covered in deep puddles, and all of his neighbors were hidden away in their homes. But he wasn't about to let a little rain stop him from going out to the rock pool. This was the last day off he'd have for months, and dammit, he was going to enjoy it! Who cared if the roads were bad? Not him. Couldn't take a car where he was going anyway. Don't even have a car, he thought with a grin. What respectable Docksider does? And who cared if every part of him not covered by his big green trench coat was already waterlogged after in less than three minutes, with the rain starting to soak through even the coat? Not him. A little water never hurt anybody. And it didn't matter that the rain had probably driven all the fish in the rock pool out to the rocks. He could always swim out and fish from there. Nope, this rain was not going to be a problem. He was going out to the rock pool, and he was going to have a damn good time.

"Screw the rain!" he shouted, startling several people on there way to work on Ferrymans Road. "It don't bother me!" The ferry workers shook their heads at him and went on their way, wondering why they had to work on a day like this. He made a right down the North Coastline Intercivil and exited the city, still taunting the rain. "Pathetic!" he yelled "Weak! Lame! "You fail!" Then he laughed. He hadn't felt this good in a long time. Not since joining the Guardian Coalition eleven years ago. He hadn't been very happy as a kid, either. Except for the trips to the rock pool. As he left the road and headed into the general shelter of the forest, he thought about his first visit to the rock pool.

He had been running away from home after an argument with Auntie. Now he couldn't even remember what the fight was about, but he remembered his little eight year old self picking through the forest thinking how sorry Auntie would be when she found out he was gone, and that maybe he would never come home and how that would show her. About two miles north of the city he had found a little rock filled inlet, about thirty yards in diameter, protected from the rough seas by a stretch of land reaching from the north to about a ten feet from the southern end.

It had been a hot day, and eight year olds, no matter how tough, don't usually take well to two mile hikes. So he had stopped to cool off and to drink from his water bottle, and then he started playing in the water and on the rocks halfway out, and before he knew it, the sun was setting. He decided forgive Auntie and go home. He was hungry anyway. He got a spanking for worrying Auntie, but he went back the next day, and the next, and the next. The rock pool became his favorite place. He never told anyone about it, and he went there every chance he got.

Now a twenty-seven year old Major Guardsman in the GC, it was difficult for him to find time to come to his favorite place. He was lucky if he got to go every other month. Which was why he was so determined to enjoy himself today. He ran a hand through his short black hair. It was cropped short, but not so short that the rain didn't make it stick to his head. It was a little uncomfortable, and he found himself wishing he had worn a hat. He shrugged the feeling away and grinned. "It'd still be wet," he said "even under a hat."

Before long the worn path he followed took a sharp left turn, towards the west and the coast, and not long after that the shelter of the trees abruptly ended. The newly strengthened force of the rain hitting his head didn't faze him. Before him was his beloved rock pool. The rain churned the usually peaceful water and made the beach look like quicksand, but he didn't care. He sighed contentedly. No place like home, he thought.

He knew there were places in the rocks, little holes and such, where the fish liked to go when the weather was bad. If he was going to catch anything, he would have to swim out to one of them put his line down there. They still might not bite, but he could at least give it a try. Stopping at where the grass gave way to sand (or quicksand), he took off his drenched coat, then his sword belt and katana. He wrapped the katana in the coat to give it some protection from the rain, and sat down to peel off his boots and socks. He stuffed the socks into the toes of the boots, the insides of which were the only things he had that were dry, and put them neatly next to the coat. He stepped into the sand and flinched, shocked by the muddy consistency. He laughed again. What am I, he asked himself, some little school girl? He wriggled his toes in the mud/sand and sloshed his way over to the water.

The swim out wasn't at all difficult. He was fully trained officer of the GC after all. Digging his fishing line and lure out of his pocket was difficult. And once he got it out, getting the wet soppy mess of string untangled was even more difficult. He was working on a particularly frustrating tangle, and finally getting pissed off, when he heard a sound coming from the other side of his rock. An eerie moaning type of sound. He sprang up, reflexively grabbing for his sword. Dammit, he thought, cursing himself for leaving his weapon where he couldn't get to it. Slowly, he peeked over the top of the rock. Catching a glimpse thought the rain of a small form on the other side, he ducked back down. What is that thing?

The sound came again, this time a little stronger. I woke it up, he thought with a grimace. He considered just swimming back to shore, it might be some ocean creature seeking shelter. It might also be a hungry ocean creature. Swimming might be dangerous. He decided to have another look, to properly access the situation. He peeked over the rock again, and was shocked at the sight that met his eyes. This was no ocean creature. Not at all.

Looking up at him were grey eyes hidden behind drenched brown hair, belonging to a pale, bloody, half-drowned little girl.

"Holy shit . . ."