Disclaimer : Kingdom Hearts belongs to Square Enix and Disney

Moon, Shine Down

During the long nights, when the darkness covered every portion of the sky save for the few, small blinking stars, he depended on the light for guidance. He relied on the light shining down from the black sky to show him his path, his way to his nightly destination. He used light as his cue; when darkness fell and the only way one could see through it was using the streams of light, he went about, searching for every person's daily needs, the ones he had to scavenge for.

The moon's light was his light; only when everyone else was asleep was it safe for him to leave the secluded areas of the forest, his hiding place from the villagers. Without the light, he wouldn't have been able to find his way to the village, wouldn't be able to find anything to feed his stomach and eventually his body would have given out a long time ago.

He knew that no matter how difficult it was to do so, he wanted to survive in the harsh world he had been born into, even if there was barely a reason for him to go on existing; if the moon shone down for him when he needed it to, if the moon thought he, too, should be given his chance at life, then it was only right that he took that gift and made use of it. The villagers could do anything they wanted, could throw hard solids and cutting words in his direction, a family-less individual, and he would take it all, wearing an indifferent mask and feeding on their disgust, using it as the source of his determination to keep moving.

They could not break him simply because he would not allow them to.

When everything seemed like a menacing threat and every sound was poised as a suppressed spring waiting to be released, the moon was his source of reassurance, his source of comfort. When it was time, its gentle light would shine gently down on the cracked floor of the woods; the light that streamed through the many leaves of the forest trees, parting as they were blocked by the crooked branches but all reaching the floor anyways.

During these times, when the dark world seemed more violent, more aggressive than it usually was, he'd look up into the sky and look for the moon, would search for the one source of light in his wretched, broken life. He would scan the vast sky for even the smallest traces of the moon, be it day or night. Should the clouds happen to, at that moment, be standing in the moon's path, he'd feel a fleeting trickle of panic in his chest, scared at the very sight of such a thing.

When that happens, he'd push vehemently at the feeling, a flat refusal to acknowledging it as he forced himself to continue staring at the sky, waiting defiantly for the clouds to move and for the light to reach his sight once more.

The moon's light was his guarantee for safety, an unspoken promise to himself that no matter what the situation, the outcome would always be something he could tolerate and accept, so long as the light was there. The moon was, in his way, his beloved, the only thing apart from himself that mattered in his life. It far outranked other daily necessities in terms of importance, its significance being much, much larger. But then, there was no other way for it to be; the moon was, after all, his haven.

Sanctuary, however, was not eternal; there would always be a time when the light stopped shining and danger lurked close by because on that night, when the air was as still, as silent as every other night had been, everything changed.

Nothing had seemed wrong or out of place; everything was how it should be, the world containing the same amount of hostility as any other night. He had been on his way to the village, feet making almost mute sounds as he treaded carefully on the path the light had laid out for him. Then the clouds shifted positions, moving where the winds willed them to and casting a dark shadow on the lands.

At first, all he heard was the customary silence, broken occasionally by the soft rustling of leaves and breezes. Then, a new sound reached his ears, one unfamiliar and deeply foreboding. His first though was to turn back, to return to his hiding place before it was too late and the foreigners made their presence known; all he had to do was retrace his recent steps, able to make it back by relying on his memory.

He had just taken the first step of his retreat when a dozen pairs of yellow eyes appeared, glowing menacingly in the darkness. They made no sounds, all of them silent, but he could tell they weren't pleasant creatures. Without stopping, not allowing himself any time at all to contemplate the nature of the figures in front of him, he promptly turned around, tearing his eyes from the entrancing yellow orbs, hands spread out in front of him and ran, desiring nothing but to get away from the strange creatures in front of him.

But the moon's light was his guide, always had and always will be. Without it, all was lost and his attempts were futile. The creatures eventually reached him, one clawed hand wrapping tightly around his leg. He stumbled, tripping and falling to the floor. The grip tightened painfully as he struggled to free himself and he could just barely make out more and more of the strange creatures making their way towards him.

Their claws were unbearably sharp, ripping through the worn, fragile fabrics of his clothing and cutting new, fresh scratches into his skin. Moments later, he could no longer see anything, smothered by the countless bodies on him, the sheer pressure squeezing out all the air in his lungs. He fought for breath, gasping as he desperately tried to inhale precious air and the last thing he could remember, before all turned an impossible shade of darker black, was the sharp jolt of pain that shot through his entire body.

When he woke up, it was in a completely different world. Gone were the strong trees and thick but sickly barks, their curly branches and leaves painted many different shades of green; in their place loomed tall buildings unlike any he had ever seen before. The buildings glowed with a strange light that had no authenticity, which was neither the bright, harsh yellow of the sun nor the soft, gentle lull of the moon. They towered over him, their sheer height making them look hostile, but they had a certain empty feeling to them, one that drained away all the intimidation. He couldn't stop thinking about how they looked like they had lost their truth; fake and hollow.

That, and the new, diminished ache in his chest.

Then the yellow-eyed creatures that had attacked him before reappeared, the ground hissing as they materialized, their numbers having doubled more than once. They rose from the ground like a thick blanket of darkness, melting out of the ground and merging to form a mass of moving bodies that immediately made for him, moving slyly on the dimly lit floor.

The very moment he caught sight of the figures he knew he had to run, had to flee if he didn't want to be devoured a second time. He knew that to escape was his only chance of surviving, so he took that chance and ran, feet moving unsteadily on the strange ground of the new world he had come to, the little piece of precious knowledge being the only thing on his mind.

He never stopped running but they never stopped coming. No matter how far he went, how hard he pushed his body, his legs, more of them would appear, emerging only a slight distance away from him. Their numbers seemed unlimited and soon he had a large crowd chasing after him, their presence a silent prickle of energy in the air.

Later on, he learnt of what they had wanted from him, learnt of the reason they followed him so relentlessly; they were merely unsatisfied with what they had already gotten from him. Consumed by greed, they wanted more than the heart they had evidently stolen from him, more than whatever emotions he had learnt to feel that they had taken with them, more than the very origins of his soul. It wasn't enough that they had already gotten what they originally came for; now, when he had been rendered to nothing more but an incomplete being, they wanted his very existence as well.

But he wasn't going to give in, not going to surrender to what might have been the end of him; if there was one thing that he had learned from his way of living it was that if anything was desired badly enough, if a person was willing to work hard for it, that something could be obtained.

And he wanted his heart back.

The plan was simple enough; Kingdom Hearts was their ultimate goal, the lock and the boy was the key that would lead them to it. The night's light, the moon that shone eternally in this new world was the chosen vessel for Kingdom Hearts. Ironically, he almost found it amusing that the only two sources of light, of hope that he had ever know had been merged as one.

He fought to make them complete, fought for his two lights in the battle he and the rest of the Organization had initiated. He was willing to do anything for them. All who stood in his path had to be annihilated, threats to his light were to be eliminated. Whatever form the obstacle took, he vanquished. Whatever the man who called himself their Superior ordered, he dutifully carried them out, eager for the end of their little charade.

The time for the grand finale came soon, the boy and his friends predictably coming to his captive's aid. Everything was going perfectly, all falling into their respective, rightful places. The only thing left to do was to kill the little boy and his insolent animal friends.

It shouldn't have been difficult.

He would have thought that with the moon shining so brightly down on them, they'd succeed. The light was the most reliable guide, after all. He had always depended on the moon's radiance before, and the moment of their battle was no exception. He initiated the fight with what little determination he had left, what little emotion he could muster, as confident as he could be with the light above his head and practically tasting victory on his tongue.

The conclusion was not as he expected. He didn't think he would lose to the boy that played the role of their key, didn't think he would fall when strength mattered most. As the seconds ticked by, he felt less and less whole, a hollow feeling consuming every part of him, bringing with them a bitter taste of empty anger.

In weak desperation, he raised a hand into the air, reaching out for the moon, for Kingdom Hearts, for his light and almost pleaded as he felt the last bits of what was left of him fade away into non-existence, the inevitable truth of his end, hovering in front of him. The thought stood clear amongst all of his mixed thoughts, being almost painfully merciless.

His light had abandoned him.

Fin

So, how was it? Tell me what you think, okay? I've always held a lingering dislike for Saix but I never figured out why. This is some sort of apology to him. Thank you for taking the time to read this!