Prologue: Our Most Prized Possession's

Roxas

The earliest memory I have, I'm glad to say, is a happy one. We were seven, Sora and myself, and it was Christmas. Growing up as foster children, we never had allowance, never had a lot of money at all, but we always had each other. That was really all we needed, and, as far as I was concerned, that was the way it would always be. Sora, however, needed something more. Christmas had never been a major thing for me. Even at that age, the only thing that really stood out to me was how everyone became crazy with greed over meaningless material objects, so I never paid any attention to the season. Sora was different. He always stressed himself nearly to death because he wasn't able to get me anything. I would usually talk him out of his depression and load him up on candy canes and chocolate until New Years, when he would subsequently forget about the issue until the next year. But something about that year happened that I would never forget.

The only thing that I could think about that year was getting my twin something for Christmas. I had been eyeing a necklace in the jewelry store in the mall for months. I could imagine giving it to him, him smiling, and I couldn't see it on anyone else's neck. I must have walked every street in Twilight Town 25 times over, doing odd jobs for people here and there to raise the money I needed. By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, I had met my goal. The strangest thing about that particular year was that Sora seemed depressed extra early. Not even my chocolates and candy canes could cheer him up. However, about 3 days before Christmas, Sora seemed to do a complete 180, and then some. He was walking on air, his deep blue eyes lit up, and I figured it had just been all of the sugar kicking in, so I simply let myself enjoy the rest of the season.

Christmas morning rolled around and I woke up extra early, sneaking downstairs in the boarding house to surprise my brother. I remember catching a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror as I snuck. I had the goofiest grin on my porcelain face, and it was then that I realized just how closely Sora and I resembled one another, the only real difference being our hair color and skin tone. In retrospect, the house was somewhat of a dump, but we never cared. Our plastic, slightly-leaning Christmas tree sat in the corner of a living room in shambles, two or three small presents lying around the skirt-less stand. My smile changed to slightly devious when I reached around to the back of the tree, my little hiding place, to retrieve my present. It blended in all too well with the gold and silver ornaments. Yes, truly I was a clever person, even at such a young age. Moving a silver bell to the side, I pulled out the sterling silver necklace and crown pendant that hung beautifully on the chain. Nothing on Earth could have shown brighter than that necklace in the early morning light. As I stuffed it into the pocket of my thread-bare hoody, I heard a board creak behind me, and I froze stiff. My heart leapt into my throat, and, if possible, my face turned even whiter than it usually was. Slowly, I turned and let out a sigh of relief when I saw my brunette twin standing in the doorway to the living room, grinning like an idiot.

"Hey," I said, slowing my breath. "You scared me, brother."

Sora simply smiled wider, showing his teeth like a fool, and moving a couple of steps closer to me.

"I'm glad you're up already. Now no one has to see and be jealous." Puzzled, I stared quizzically at my twin, earning a small chuckle. "Here!" Sora exclaimed, pulling his sun-tanned arms from behind his back, revealing a long, dark blue chenille scarf. I felt my mouth drop open at the sight, and I slowly reached forward to grab the softest fabric I had ever felt in my life. Carefully and lovingly, I wrapped the scarf loosely around my neck, holding the tears stinging my eyes back as best as I could. I looked back at my brother, who was, almost literally, glowing in the bright morning light with pride and joy.

"Sora... I..." The only thing I could do was hug him. He went rigid for a moment before relaxing and gingerly wrapping his arms around me as well.

"Merry Christmas, little brother." He chuckled as I let him go and scowled at the nickname.

"I am NOT little!" I almost screamed, but remembered there were still people sleeping in other rooms. It was then that I remembered my own present for my brother, and I fumbled with my hoody pocket, presenting it to the now shocked brunette. I felt my mouth widen as his had a moment earlier as a warm feeling I had never felt before ran smoothly through my body. Sora, wide-eyed, reached out just as I had done and gingerly lifted the necklace out of my hands by the chain, his mouth agape and staring at the pendant as if it were the only thing he had waited for his entire life.

"Merry Oomph!" The next thing I registered was lying flat on my back on the floor, thick brown hair in my face and a heavy weight about my chest and waist.

"Thank you sooooo much, brother!" As he spoke, he tightened his grip, removing all air from my lungs before bouncing to his knees and sliding the chain over his head and around his neck proudly.

After breakfast, we ran outside into the fresh December snow, and built a shoddy snowman, laughing and occasionally throwing a snowball or two at one another. Before we had finished, we were in an all out snow war, the other resident children drawing battle lines and taking sides. Just as dusk was settling over the city, the warden, a light-hearted heavyset black woman we all called mama, shouted from the front steps for all of us to come in for dinner. Before Sorand I headed in, we had one of our mutual friends take two Polaroid pictures, one for both myself and Sora.

That was the last time I remember being happy for a long time to come. Early the next year, we were adopted by a man that seemed friendly enough until we got home with him. He lived out of a single bedroom apartment in worse disrepair than the boarding house had been. He was a raging alcoholic, and, from what Sora and I figured, had only adopted us for the government check. We were neglected, abused, and ignored, only to be sent to the next boarding home. Our home lives became progressively worse as the years went on, but for 6 years, the only thing that kept us going was each other. Eventually, we were sent to another drunkard asshole, and we couldn't get out due to our ages and the amount of homes we had already been to. The system had finally given up on us, as was common in the 90's, and we were stuck in a living hell. Pretty soon, Sora started dating, not wanting to be at the house any longer than he had to be, and I was left to take the brunt of said assholes' abuse. When we got to junior high, Sora came home the second week of school and pulled me away from the television, professing to me his undying love for a hot silver-haired boy in three of his classes named Riku. That night was the longest of my life. Our 'father' had overheard Sora and I talking and had burst into the room, shouting obscenities I never want to hear again. Being overly protective as I am, I was beaten to a pulp, Sora remaining in the bedroom as our 'father' and I fought in the hallway. Things progressively, if possible, got even worse after that.

I remember all too well the night my brother disappeared. Riku and Sora became fast friends following the night 'father' went on his rampage, and soon they were dating, deciding, at least in Sora's words, that 'girls were icky.' The two were inseparable and Sora, outside of the home at least, seemed to be the happiest person in the world. About a month after they had 'made it official,' our step father burst through the bedroom door, drunk as usual, and proclaimed that Sora had never made it home. Three weeks, every one of our friends searched for the two. Three weeks was all it took for the number of searchers to dwindle down to one. Just me. I was alone, but I never gave up, looking for signs of my brother, a silver haired teen, ANYTHING that might point me in the right direction. All the while, I kept the one thing that kept us tied to one another; the scarf he had given me so many years ago.

Eventually, as it happens, the trail went cold. It wasn't until another 7 years later that I had finally picked up his tracks. An older gentleman had come by my apartment in Traverse Town, where I had moved shortly after turning 17. He told me he had been tracking Riku as well, but had given up on 'the little bastard' when he realized that he wasn't alone. He simply gave me his number, an address, and left without another word. That night, I packed what little things I owned, walked around the corner to the pizzeria I had been working at and left a note of my resignation on the door. It was early October, shortly after my 20th birthday, when I set out on foot once again to find the only know family I had left. The leaves had just turned a reddish brown, and I smiled as I made my way to the train station, one bag in my hand, and my soft blue scarf wrapped around my neck. The silver-haired man, as cold as he was, told me that he had lost the trail around Radiant Gardens. It is here that my true life story starts.