Riku grabbed onto the corner of the building and used his momentum to swing around the corner. His hair was sweaty and stuck to his face, and his mouth was bone dry. But he did not dare to stop running.

You cannot run forever.

Nor can you.

You cannot hide from my eyes.

All eyes can see. I can see you and your eyes as well as you and your eyes can see me.

Your words anger me. Why riddle with me when you know I can win.

Because I KNOW that your mind will falter sooner or later, and when it does, I, not you, will win.

Keep running, worm.

Riku shoved the voice out of his mind and tore off along the deserted street. His armories were getting heavy, and he longed to shed them. But he also knew this would be playing right into His hand, and he might be caught off guard without his true weapons, then what would he do? He knew he could not count on the Keyblade alone, it was becoming rather untrustworthy in these times. As he thought this, he looked down at the Keyblade he held in his hands. He dared not holster it, for fear he would drop it or it would be lifted by an unwary theif. His fingers threaded through the blue enameled handle. His left hand was grasped around the silver shaft of the blade, and the end was capped with a likeness of the heart, so when he swung it, it made a musical noise.

Soon, he could run no longer. He slowed to a jog, and pulled the skein of water out of his bag. He chugged back a couple mouthfuls, and then put the cap back on the skein. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and then brushed his sweaty hair out of his mouth. On reflex, he looked about before resting his Keyblade against a wall and pulling a dried biscuit out of his pack. He looked upon the foul thing with disgust, and then jammed it in his mouth.

It had been nearly a week since he had been in a real town. All of the villages he had passed on his way here had been long deserted, packed up and relocated to the bigger cities when he had brought the Darkness to this world. Little did he know that he would be the cause of his own downfall. After he had broken free from the Dark clutches, he had ran and ran and ran, only ceasing when neccessary. He had run now for nearly two months, and the excersize and lack of nutrition had made his body lean and muscular. He could almost feel the muscles hardening underneath his skin, and was proud of this size that he had gained. He no longer looked younger than his fifteen years, actually, he almost looked twenty years old, and was barely ever told to leave when he entered local pubs when he was confident enough to stop.

Riku shouldered his pack again, and began a light jog, permitting his stomach to digest its meagre meal. His muscles ached for a dash, however, so he mustered his strength and flew along the street. He closed his eyes, enjoying the cool wind that ran through his sweat-soaked hair. His muscles screamed at him, and the feeling of breathless ecstacy overtook him.

WHAM

Riku was so caught up in his ecstacy, he did not see anything infront of him. When he had torn down the street, he did not see the shadows around the corner. He did not see the girl. He had propelled himself into Fates lap, and at a painful accelleration. He flew into the girl who was playing and had run into the abandoned street, not seeing the boy who wielded the funny looking weapon. Riku looked up from his fallen position, and beheld this girl. She looked about the same age as him. She had long, curly black hair, and maple colored eyes. Her face was pale, except for the rosy cheeks she sported, and shiny pink lips that reminded Riku of bubblegum. She wore a bright green tank top and a short white frilly skirt. Under her skirt she wore green and white striped leggings, and thigh high black leather boots. She had a white scabbard strapped to her hip by a black leather belt, and on her left hip she had a few valuable, yet dangerous looking Knife Chains.

Mallin looked down at the boy, admiring his light blonde hair. He was so cute! She especially loved his odd weapons and clothing. She looked at his black button down shirt that was open to just under his breastbone. His dark blue slacks were baggy and torn at the bottom. She noticed a loosened dark tie around his neck. It sported a white mark that resembled the weapon he held in his right hand. The navy pack he had slung around his shoulders and wrapped around the back of his neck was adorned with the signs of a traveller: trinkets from home, patches sewn into it, and numerous ill-repared shreds. He wore many chains on his hands and neck to aid him in battle. He had a small dagger strapped to his left thigh. He looked up at her with a quizzical look in his eyes.

"Well. Who the hell are you?" Riku inquired.

"Mallin. Who the hell do you think you are, Mister?!" She exclaimed indignantly.

"I'm Riku. Now help me the fuck up before I decapitate you." Riku said, reaching up a hand.

Mallin took his hand, smiling and blushing at his touch and the unspoken the agreement they had reached.

"Come inside. You can get something on that nasty cut on your jaw." Mallin said.

Riku touched the bleeding cut on his jawbone, not even noticing it, and then followed Mallin towards a big grey building.