Disclaimer: Oh you caught me, I own Kingdom Hearts, and instead of making the third one, I decided to come here and write fan-fiction, brilliant right? Keh. Not.

A/n: I don't know about this… Just read it I guess. Possibly AU. (Possibly? What the hell does that mean?)

It didn't matter, he thought, as each little drop that fell made a plop-plop sound on the pavement, leaving its mark there unalterably. Each drop that left his shoulder left him feeling dizzier, and the world tilted and blurred more than he liked; but it really didn't matter.

He kept walking, stumbling, almost falling. He hit into brick building fronts, hitting and pushing off and god, don't be sick he told himself, as his feet left the most beautiful ruby red trail behind him. It didn't matter.

His shoulder collided with a man walking his dog, sending shock waves throughout his body, causing his stomach to heave upwards violently, causing him to momentarily stop in his tracks, causing him to stain the stranger's tee-shirt a most beautiful deep pink color.

"Oh my God, kid, are you okay?" The stranger called, pulling his pet collie-dog's leash and rearing back around to chase after said "kid." Even if the kid was pushing six foot, with a back curved like an old man's, and weary, weary eyes.

"No," the kid thought to himself (who else would listen?), "But it really doesn't matter."

He kept his mouth shut, jaw clenched tighter than maybe necessary. But he knew if he didn't, he'd completely fall apart. And he couldn't fall apart now, he wanted to make it. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted his Sora. Didn't this dog-walking stranger know that?

"I'm fine. Go away." His voice didn't crack, didn't waver, didn't change pitch or volume once. He sounded like he felt, broken and pathetic and thrown away. And he just wanted this man to go away.

Said man looked away, to the side, and then down, at his dog, as if his dog could fix this situation he stumbled into, before looking to the silver-haired, still bleeding kid, and nodded. Because it didn't matter.

"Fine, okay. I get it. See you around kid, if you're lucky." But he didn't get it. He didn't get anything. No one got it. But it didn't matter, not now.

Because the man was gone, walking his dog in the opposite direction and neither one looked back. No one ever did. But he didn't let it bother him. Because it didn't matter.

So he kept walking as well, disoriented but determined to make it "home," to the only one who even pretended to get him. It didn't matter that he was bleeding, that the knife had caught in his shoulder deeper than he would have liked it. It didn't matter that he couldn't see straight, that if he stopped walking now he knew he'd never be able to again.

It didn't matter that it hurt to move, to breathe. It didn't matter that he'd never make it back to him. Nothing really mattered anymore.

He kicked his foot out but it never connected with the sidewalk. The trail behind him was too thick, too red; seeping into the cracks in the pavement, gushing over his jeans and worn sneakers. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter, it didn't matter, it didn't matter!

Because nothing matters when you're already dead inside.

End Scene

A/n: I don't know… I wasn't sure if I should put this up (not to mention what the hell genre or rating to put it under), and I might take it down later.

So tell me if you think I should or not. Feedback is much appreciated. Thank you for reading (and if you review double thank you).