Update : I put back the original format of the story. Meaning that there are only nine chapters and they all are long. It just makes it flow and makes it make more sense I suppose. And seeing I redid the format once more, there MIGHT be an update soon. Depends on my school work, Cabalistic, and my other stories. Oh well.

Mostly, this is a story that will have many plot twists and pairings. My favorite pairings for that fact. There will be Riku/Sora, AkuRoku (Axel/Roxas) and Cloud/Leon. I might put more pairings later, but for now that's it. But don't think that's all the characters in the story. There will be more. And one more thing, do not expect the pairings to develop right away. As of the beginning, they are complete strangers, and contrary to popular belief, I do not believe in true love at first sight. I believe in love that grows over time when you find someone you connect with. No one loves everything about someone with just one meeting, even if they think so.


xxxxxx

Stranded With You

xxxxxx

He swung his bag over his shoulder rather lazily. Crystal blue eyes starred straight ahead. It was already raining. The weather forest had predicted precipitation at noon, but now it was raining. It was six am, and his flight left at eight. And it was raining.

It was as if the sight of rain caused his legs to shake. It was like his mind just quit for that one split second. Many thoughts rushed through his youthful mind. Some more perilous and adventurous than others. But now, after hours, no days of contemplation, he had finally made up his mind. He was going on a plane to Rome. Across the ocean, across this country, and across the world.

As he stood there in the entryway to his house, the rain began to increase it's intensity. His tired eyes went wide and bright, and he continued to just stand there, bag slung over his shoulder. It had been a long, hard summer and his adoptive mother had finally agreed to let him fly to Rome, where supposedly his direct family descended from. He had even heard rumors that his uncle resided there. And for once this far-fetched dream of seeing his family finally seemed near. And now that it was near, fear was written all across his face. Not only on his face, but through the blood that coursed through his veins. Right now to the bone.

"Are you sure you want to this, Sora dear?"

He was snapped out his illusion when a hand reached out into the dreary darkness and began to mess with his spiky brown hair. Casting those deep blue eyes over at the owner, a slight smile spread across his face, completely washing away the fear, for that moment at least. With a gentle shake of his head, he turned his attention back to the window and the water that was clashing against the panes, creating a melodic rhythm.

"Remember, you're only going to be there for a year," Once more, the woman ruffled the young boy's hair. As she spoke, somber yet soft eyes watched his lithe form.

She was right, he was only going to be there a year. He was scheduled there for a year of the Rome Academy known as Buterduel. After countless research, he had chosen a high school within his criteria in Rome. And once he arrived, he would continue his studies and hopefully find his uncle and study his roots. See where it all started, and hopefully where it would all end up. The place that eventually he desired to call home.

"If you need anything, or just someone to talk to, don't hesitate." She came again, slowly her stroking. A moment of silence passed before the young boy turned to her, a sudden unreadable expression crossing his face.

"What's it like?" Innocence was apparent in his voice as he gleamed up at her. Another instance passed before she removed her hand and she just stood there, starring. Her raven black hair fell limply onto her shoulders as she shook her head. Once bright vibrant green eyes were now dulled after years of life. And for some reason, those eyes filled Sora with some sort of security. No matter where he went, he could always come back here, and see those loving eyes starring at him, welcoming him with arms wide open.

"I can't say, I've never been." She paused and then forced a smile. "Make sure to write about every detail." She told him, endeavoring to not let her voice crack from nerves.

"Do you think they'll like me?" He continued, the questions still flying through the stiff air.

The fake smile melted away and was replaced by a extravagant smile and then smirk. A smirk showing absolute surety. Sora nodded his brunette head and then shook the bag on his back. It was as if he was literally carrying some sort of burden. But what burden could he possibly be carrying when he had done nothing? Or was leaving some sort of a burden? Was he expected to stay here forever and make others happy before himself? No, that wouldn't suit the works.

"Of course." Was all she told him before reaching out and fixing his vest that he had sloppy put on. A light blush over the boy as he attempted to resist. Although his nerves were controlling his brain, he still demonstrated that resistant to his mother. The woman he grew up to call his mother. "We better get going. Don't want to be missing your flight."

With a gentle nod, Sora walked towards the door as his mother grabbed a leather rain jacket and pursued him out of the house. As they walked, harsh rains whipped against Sora's face. They were about an hour from the airport, give or take ten minutes. If traffic was little, they could make it in less than fifty. However, if it was horrendous, it could take far over an hour. In the end, it was the luck of the roll of the dice. Either way, as Sora opened the door to the minivan, he silently prayed that the storm would subside enough for his flight to take off.

He swung his body into the seat and closed the door with a sharp snap. The car started up with a gentle sound of gear churning before his mother had pulled out of the driveway and began their journey down the road and towards the interstate. As he sat there, gazing out into the rainy heavens, thoughts began to plunder into his mind.

All his life he had been labeled a 'teacher's pet' or 'mommy's boy'. He was one of those kids that attended church every Sunday, knew the commandants by heart, respected the law and it's enforces, and highly believed that if he did right, it would eventually come back to him And for that, he was constantly the social outcast. However, he did have friends. One would not be a person without friends, of course. Those who stuck by him were loyal, loyal friends even now as he leaves them to take flight to another country.

Kairi, she had always been one of those girls who stood up for what she believed was right. She wasn't perfect, and didn't get perfect grades. She had countless imperfections, and wasn't the prettiest girl in the school. But in Sora's mind she was perfect. No one could have been a better person. And for that he was thankful. She was one of those true friends that would stand beside him no matter what he did. And now? Now he prayed that she did not lose contact of change. For change was something he feared more than anything, deep down in his heart.

Selphie, now there was a prime example for the complete opposite of himself. She was a daredevil, someone who lived by instinct, and not a set of rules. If her mind was set on a goal, she'd do anything to accomplish it, even if it meant cheating, stealing, or fudging the truth. She was outspoken, far too outspoken for her own good. Her tongue had gotten her in trouble with the older grades countless times, but she continued to puff out her bottom lip and trudge right along, head held high. For she was a drama queen, wanting to live her life by her own rules.

Tidus, he was one of those quiet types. He never really broke the rules, and at the same never followed them. He was one of those boys everyone knew and liked. Yet no one would consider him one of they're best friends. He had many secret admirers, which one happened to be Selphie. He had always been in a 'friendly' rivalry with Sora over grades and such. Many called it pathetic that they had a competition on grades when Tidus was so good at sports. Thing was, Tidus knew Sora was pathetic at sports, so he stuck to school.

And now, with one simple morning, they would all be gone. Silently, Sora closed his eyes and rested his head against the window pane of the car. The rain was continuing to plunder the vehicle. In his pocket lay a cell phone, the one his mother had entrusted him for those one time emergencies.

"Sora, you're awfully quiet, are you excited?" His mother asked from the front seat, uneasily increasing her grip on the steering wheel. Sora rose his head slightly from the window and glanced at her, with now dulling blue eyes.

"Yeah, I suppose," Was all he answered before resting his head once more. And then it was silent once more.

Sora's parents had died when he was six. It was during a hurricane when they were vacationing to sunny Florida. It was a place Sora had always wanted to go. He always wanted to sit on the shore, ice cream in hand, and watch the sunset with his family. And his wish did come true. But that dream was corrupted with the news that they had died during the hurricane on their last night. Sora was with his god father when his parents went out for the night. He himself almost died, but it was his god father's protection that led him to safety.

And now he'd be going to Rome, leaving everything he ever loved, ever feared, and ever dreamed behind him. For now, or for ever?


"Are you ready to go yet, Sir Riku?"

"Give me a second, I'll be down in a few minutes!"

There he was, rushing through his room gathering valuable belongings and essentials. Of course, he had the option of packing far before this, but he never took the liberty of actually doing so. So now, five minutes before they were to leave, he was rushing around like some crazy man, trying to pack for some two year travel to Rome for some modeling tour or what not.

Shirts, pants, boxers, socks, comb, as he shoved the items into the blue duffel bag, he mentally made a list of what he had brought. By now he had already stuffed all the necessities into the bag. And now was for the unneeded junk. The best part of packing, he thought to himself bearing that smug grin that he sometimes had, that seemed to be lopsided on the left.

Crossing across the room, he reached out and took a picture off the bureau. In the photo was himself, long silverish blue hair and all, standing next to another boy. He looked to be two years older, and was wearing a brown shirt with baggy black pants. His hair was in a neat array and gleamed a bright brown in the sunlight. That was his brother, the one and only famous Demyx of modeling. And now he, Riku, was to follow in his brother's footsteps in this tour alongside him. What a dream that'd be.

"Riiikkuuu."

The boy rose his head from the picture and turned to the entrance of his room. Standing there was none other than Demyx. He wore that 'hurry up or I'm going to leave without you and claim all the glory for myself' expression. Riku sighed heavily and shoved the picture into the bag, not caring whether Demyx saw it or not. He rose to his feet and slung the arm strap over his shoulder and shoved right past the older boy.

He walked down the hall of the extravagant mansion. Diamond fixtures were placed delicately upon the stone washed walls. As he walked, his black shoes made a gentle clanking noise against the marble beneath his feet.

He was a Karada, one of the famous Karada's. His father was a rock star, and his mother was known for her acting on Broadway musicals. Music was a natural in his family, yet he and his brother flung themselves to the acting and physical side of the pendulum. Both their mother and father were home rarely, but their marriage was still in tact, something few celebrity could say. And because of this, their mansion was extremely large, in the heart of Chicago. They had the choice between this and Beverly Hills, but Chicago was a bit more secluded, in the tiniest of ways.

"Riku, how dare you storm past me! You know that I'm putting a lot of effort of helping you with you career," Demyx warned, hurrying up to his brother's pace. Riku shot him that uncaringly glare and hurried his stepping, as if he had not heard a single word Demyx had said.

Riku Karada was famous for that. His cold and shallow attitude was what made his modeling career such a success. Because he was unattainable and single was what made him the item for every girl's wants. And still, he continued to be cruel to everything that came in contact with him, whether it be famous or not. They only time he showed a different side was on the camera, where he would be judged. Then, and only then did he show that priceless smile. The smile that captured the hearts of thousands around the country.

"So how much you think we're going to make from this? Enough for me to start my own record label?" Demyx asked once more, amazingly catching up to Riku as they made their way down the stairs. Riku would have continued to ignore the older brunette but he had found the need to turn his head, with the emotionless stare and mutter.

"If father thought you were go enough on that thing you call an instrument, he would have given you a record label by now," Was all Riku snapped, before casting away his brother and turned to the butler that had called him down earlier. He was waiting by the entrance of the mansion, where outside would surely sit a limo waiting to take the Karada's to the airport.

"Master Riku, Master Demyx, are you ready for departure?" He asked with a thick British accent apparent in his raspy voice.

"Yes Jeffery," Demyx came back, just as elegant as any nobleman. Even though Demyx gave off that carefree and rocker type of personality, he did have an educated and supplicated side, he just chose not to show it. And when he chose not to show it, he was the one of the rudest and fowl creatures on the planet. Or was that just Riku interpreting rock and roll talk in a completely different manor?

"Then let's be on our way. If you'd please," The butler opened the main door, leading the two siblings outside. Once out there, gentle rain splashed against Riku and Demyx's skin, causing a sharp shiver to run down Riku's back. He hated the rain, everything about it. He hated the wind, hated the snow, and especially hated the rain. Anything that would prove a threat to his plans was just plain fowl and evil.

As the two boys stepped inside the limo, Demyx made a prideful banter of noises as he lunged into the limo from the rain, and made his way to the seat closet the CD reader. Shoving in a CD from a case, he grinned as music began to play as his younger brother entered the limo, closing the door behind him, slightly annoyed.

"What kind of crap is this?" Riku asked, raising a silver eyebrow irritably, as he sat far away from his brothers, arms crossed diligently.

"You must be tone death my young brethren! This is art! This is gold! This is me!" As he shouted, he pretended to unsheathe an air guitar and start jamming on it as he began to sing along with his recorded self. It was in Riku's best interest not to listen, and to pretend that nothing was playing.

"Really, it's you now is it?" Riku arched an eyebrow once more "Sounds like something that's getting the hell beat out of it."

"You just don't appreciate good music," Demyx snickered, violently waving his hand as if to hit a chord on his air guitar. He rose his head to his brother once more. "I got the looks in the family, the musical talent, the modeling appeal, the physical attraction, the chemistry. But don't feel bad Riku, I mean you've got the vicious trait!"

"Since when did you ever have physical attraction?" Riku asked, with that similar cruel edge to his voice. They were so deep into the conversation that neither of them had noticed the limo had already begun to move, and was splashing into vast puddles as it went. No, they were to busy biting each other's heads off to worry about the important things.

"Don't be jealous. Just be happy that you've got a brother like me," Demyx spoke proud fully, rubbing his chest and blowing his hand as if he had just done something amazing. Riku continued to stare icily, with no humor or sign of kindness in his emerald eyes.

"Happy? Is that another word for being a unfortunate person to have a miscreant of a brother like you?" Riku asked, sending his brother a glare. Demyx blinked and then narrowed his eyes, taking the comment to heart.

"This muskrat has volunteered to chaperon you around Rome!" Demyx snarled, pretending to put away his air guitar as the song ended and slowly melted into a ballad. His voice was even worse in the slow and dreary songs, Riku thought hopelessly.

"It's not muskrat you feeble-minded idiot, it's miscreant. And for that fact, I didn't chose to have you chaperon me around Rome, I'd rather be hit by a shuttle bus then have to spend my two year vacation with the likes of you," Riku growled.

"Oh, that can be arranged. I have connections with the shuttle buses all right," Demyx flashed Riku a sinister look then paused. "And this isn't a vacation, if you don't remember. We're going to Rome for business, for photo shots. There's no time to be messing around."

"And this advice is coming from someone who can't even tie their own shoes?" Riku wondered aloud, raising his eyebrow once again before putting on his smug grin.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Demyx warned, almost in a sing-song voice. "I have no laces to tie." With that said he shoved his foot in the air, bearing a shoe that had no laces. "Point proven." He finished, crossing his arms and nonchalantly shaking his head and letting his single brunette braid dangle in his face.

"Right, you're just to lazy to exert energy so you take the easy way out," Riku replied harshly, leaning back into the seat.

"Like you're any different?" Demyx asked, almost chuckling as he changed the song to something active. Something that had a lot of banging on guitars. Just the first five seconds caused Riku to want to keel over the edge of the limo and just die. Anything would be better than this sort of torture.

"At least I don't go around wasting my time on pointless records," Riku spoke, covering his ears with his hands and squinting his eyes in complete anger at his older brother.

"You just don't respect the arts," Demyx replied with a rather cheerful grin before closing his eyes and then singing along.

"I'm going to hate Rome..." Riku hissed to himself.

Already he wanted out, and they hadn't even arrived at the airport yet.


"And you're going to Rome why?"

He sat in a dark, cold room. The only color around was his vibrant red spiked hair. He was clothed in all black clothes, accessorized with a black cloak. Chains were around his neck and scars were under his topaz eyes. He said nothing as he starred vacantly ahead into the darkness. His hands were placed upon his lap, easily laced together. His breath was occasional and short, and gave off the impression he was not breathing at all. As he sat there, it was evident that something was on his mind, from the way he chewed at his bottom lip every half a minute. Another minute passed before he glanced sideways a bit.

"Heard there's a load of hot chicks there." He replied harshly. His voice was one of those kinds that could easily get on a person's nerves. Naive-ness was written all over his face, and the way he moved his face when he talked gave off the impression that he didn't care what others had to say, and that he only cared about himself.

"That'd be a great alibi if you weren't bisexual, Axel."

The man with red stirred in his seat, yet he bore no look of discomfort. In fact, the first initial response he gave to this accusation was a gentle shrug of his shoulders before an unsettling grin passed his chapped lips as he arose from his seat, crossed his arms, and progressed into the darkness to stand toe to toe with a man in black, with spiky blond toned hair.

"Who's to say that just because I'm like that means I can't have a good time with the ladies? Doesn't mean I don't like 'em. In fact I love them. Got it memorized?" He asked smugly, starring down the man and gently jabbing him in the side of the head as he finished his sentence.

"Axel!" He replied harshly, grabbing Axel's hand in his offensively. "I've told you, you are needed here. Don't you know that we are in desperate need of some cash? We're not to going to make the payment on the rent and you're off running to Rome? What kind of idiot are you?" The man asked, starring him down.

"An idiot who likes you have a good time," Axel replied with a light grin passing his lips. Still, he did no resist his current hand placement. It felt like he would make his point across if he firmly gripped the other's man's hand. Just to make a point and get it across firmly.

"Isn't that was being a hooker is all about?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow and starring Axel down in the face. Axel did not reply before shaking the man's hand off of his and turning his back. Contrary to popular belief, Axel did not like the life he had been served one bit.

He was an orphan, forced to live on the streets of the windy city of Chicago. That was, of course, until a man named Seifer, who was a boy at the time, befriended him. Ever since then the two had been partner's in crime, and partner's in the business of prostitution. Of course, Axel wanted out faster than he knew possible. And this flight to Rome would prove as a new beginning for him. A change to start life anew, in a completely different city.

"I want out," Axel said sharply.

"Out? You can't get out now. You've made a commit to me. Are you really that big of a wuss to piss me off that much?" Seifer asked, turning to face Axel in the eye once more. Axel sharply looked downward at his feet. He hadn't really meant to upset his oldest friend, but now was a time for changes. He couldn't let someone else run his own life for him. Not now, not this time.

"Well, if you were really that good of a friend, you'd let me go and take the hint to clean up your own act too," Axel replied, glancing back upwards with the slighest faith residing in his distant eyes.

"I don't need you telling me that," Seifer replied as harshly, jabbing Axel in the shoulder.

"Either way, I'm out of here. If I'm ever around again, I'll be sure to look you up. Don't forget me, ok?" Axel asked, glancing over his shoulder. Seifer looked downward for a moment as Axel began to walk to the building.

"Why now Axel? You always accepted how your life was, why change it now?" Seifer asked. Axel froze in spot and shook his head. The reason was simple; he wanted to change who he was now before it was too late. Too many people like him had died on the streets. His life was too valuable to throw away. It had taken over ten years to figure that out, and now, being eighteen, he finally knew that he had to change. He was finally mature enough.

"You'll understand when you're older," Axel spoke, trying to sort out his thoughts as his eyes gleamed fear as he slowly neared the exit of the building. He placed his hand on the doorknob and glanced over his shoulder at Seifer.

"Never forget me either... got it memorized?" Seifer asked, trying to fake a smile. A smile that would truly never be there. Axel starred at him for a few moments before nodding and then leaving the door, whispering under his breath.

"Got it memorized." He told himself.


"Here," a bright smile spread across his face as he passed a bowl across the silver counter to a young girl. Bright blue eyes watched the now cheerful recipient smile with the bowl in her hands, then trail off to the nearest table. He glanced back down at the metal container full of chicken noodle soup underneath him, the soup he had made.

"Roxas," He turned his head when he had heard his name be spoken. A man who appeared to be twenty draped his hand onto the younger boy's shoulder. "You're something else, you know that?" His voice was rather raspy as he spoke. The boy who had been addressed as Roxas paused, before closing the lid on the half empty container of soup.

"I don't know what you mean," Roxas replied, running a hand through his usual untidy brunette head. A light blush passed his pale cheeks as he finished his sentence.

"You're cooking for the homeless, and for free!" The man exclaimed good heartedly, hand still resting on Roxas' shoulder.

"You're making me sound like I'm some sort of hero that I'm not. It's not like I cook well either," Roxas admitted, watching the man next to him. A snort of laughter escaped the man's lips as he shook his head in dis-belief, or in some sort of attempt to argue that point.

"Come on kid! You're something special, something I've never seen before. And that's why," The man's voice quieted as he starred his younger friend in the eye. Then he had shoved his hand into his coat's pocket and withdrew what appeared to be a yellow envelope. Roxas said nothing, and continued to stare quietly.

"Don't say anything, just take it." His smile increased as the yellow envelope passed through his open palms to Roxas' smaller ones. The young boy took in wearily, and slid a thumb underneath the lid, flipping it open. Stuffing his index finger inside, he withdrew a ticket.

"It's.." Roxas began but the man had smiled once more and placed his hand reassuringly on Roxas' shoulder.

"It's a flight pass to the next trip to Rome. Might I add once there you will be attending the best damn cooking school in the world." Even as he spoke, excitement filled the giver as the people around them continued to eat and converse in small talk.

"I can't accept this.." Roxas murmured, trying to pass it back to the man.

"That's nonsense! You've been like a brother to me Roxas! You've helped the soup-kitchen in ways unexplainable. Look at the countless lives you've helped by the food! Even when you, yourself, are an orphan living with me in a run down apartment, you still feel the need to work and give freely to others. And that's why I want you to go to Rome, Roxas. I want you to fulfill your dream and become a chef," The man finished, trying to hold back tears.

"The ticket alone must have cost hundreds. I don't even want to think about the money for the school.." Roxas was in dis-belief, and at the same time some unexplainable somber.

"You've always been like I brother to me, remember that. You've helped me through debt by taking up a job underage. And you've helped the soup-kitchen and helped me fulfill my dreams. And now? Now it's time for me to do the same to you," He ruffled Roxas' hair and another light smile crossed his lips. "Don't try to give it back either. 'Cause if you don't become the best damn chef in the world, I will never speak to you again!" He added in smugly. "Is it a promise Roxas?"

"...Are you sure?" Roxas asked uneasily. Just the thought of leaving his only family and flying on a plane was creepy enough, but to add in the cost was intolerable! How could he handle all of this?

"Positive. Just make sure to right, ok?" The man asked, still bearing that gentle smile. "If you don't, I'll track you down, shove a pencil in your hand, and make you write a letter."

Roxas could only grin.

"All right, I promise. Thanks.. a lot," A smile spread across Roxas' lips as his bright blue eyes shimmered with hope and faith. Something he never had much of growing up.

"I'll hold you to that Roxas," The man grinned and then glanced down at his clock.

"The plane leaves in a few hours, stop by the house and get your things. The airport is in walking distance. Make sure to have fun too, ok?" The man asked, hurrying Roxas out from behind the counter and towards the door to the soup kitchen.

"It leaves today?" Roxas asked, a little stunned.

"Yea, I took the liberty of getting you the fastest flight. Now go out there and become a chef!"

And with that Roxas stepped out onto the rainy, cold streets.

Roxas had grown up an orphan, living to work for and help the soup kitchen. Even after he had gotten up on his feet, he still continued to help. Somehow he felt like it was his only true home. The only place he had people that cared about him. And leaving it would be the hardest thing in his life. Somewhere out there he would find his destiny. And that somewhere wouldn't be Rome.


"Mr. Leonheart, you're limo arrives in ten minutes."

There he sat, bow-legged on the sofa. Dark and silent eyes starred distantly ahead, while firm arms crossed casually in front of his chest. A tight fitting leather jacket clung firmly to his muscular fit, whilst faded blue jeans clung perfectly onto his thin yet powerful legs. Around his neck was a single chained necklace with but only one charm. Rather dark, brown hair extended from his scalp down to around his shoulders. Two pieces were carefully placed so they flowed down onto the sides of his face. Along it, however, was a single gauge that ran from his right eyebrow diagonally to the where his left eyebrow began. To some, it was rather hard to see, but for him it was always there. Always a burden.

His name was Squall Leonheart, but he preferred to be called Leon as a stage name and a true name. His father, a traitor in the current feud between the Australian provinces had given him the name, his true first name. And for that he hated it. But his mother, a hard-working citizen of a small town had given him his last night, and commonly called him Leon. Ever since she had died during a draught, he had clung mercifully to his nickname and stage name.

But where was he now? For that fact, he was sitting comfortably in an suite in the heart of Chicago. He was an Australian Rock star, touring the world. His latest concert, two days before, had been in this city. There was a larger outcome than he had expected, but he took it in stride.

Today, however, he was scheduled to leave and fly to his next concert spot, Rome. A city he and his mother had called their fantasy home. He had never really been there, so even now, being the rich and famous singer he was, he was incredibly excited and anxious to see the city. Not for himself, but for the memory of his mother as well.

Even when he was a child, he adored music. His mother used to sit with him at nights after the work was done, and teach him different chords on different Australian instruments. He was a quick learner, so he instantly adapted to whatever she had chosen for that night. But singing, singing was a completely different thing for the young Australian. When he was eight, he had won a spot on the school's talent show where he sang a song he had composed himself. It was rather dark, but at the same time oh so uplifting to all the hopeful's out there like him.

But his father had hated his singing.

Now, even as he sits in a suite, he stills wonders where his father is today. Whether he is in hiding, whether he's back home grieving for mother, or whether he's dead. And even more does Leon wonder if his father knows he's out here, living his dream as a singer, even though his father had strongly disapproved of it before he left when Leon was nine.

Still, Leon continues to sing.

"Mr. Leonheart?"

Leon blinked a few times before glancing upwards and noticing a butler by the door. His breath became quick and shallow as he pushed off the sofa and arose to his feet. Some celebrities gave off that cruel and almighty aurora, but Leon was one of those guys that never changed.

"Hm? I'm coming," He replied, still blinking. Had it really been ten minutes already?

"Is something on your mind, sir?" The butler asked, opening the door. Leon rubbed his head absent-mindly and spared a glance over at the worrying man before putting on a weak smile.

"Nah, everything's fine. Just a little tired, that's all," Leon replied casually, still thick in the Australian accent. A gentle smile passed the butler's face before nodding respectfully and signaling for Leon to make his leave out of the room. Leon obliged and walked out, down to the elevator.

Once outside, the relaxing smells of rain tinged with the rancid smell of factories. Silently, Leon thought back to his home, where it was very uncommon to see a city as large as this one. Of course, near the capital it wasn't so uncommon. But where Leon had lived, it was extremely rare.

"Sir, I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to remind you of your scheduled arrangement before hand." The butler spoke as the two walked outside, along the stone path as the gentle rain fell onto Leon's hair. It was a rather quiet day in the city, far away from the paparazzi.

"Hmm?" Leon asked curiously, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Earlier this month, sir, you said it was all right if during your trip to Rome, you showed the ropes of music and fame to some young hopefuls." The butler spoke, rather nervously. A slight grin caused Leon's face as he nodded rather quickly.

"Oh right, thanks for reminding me," He replied quickly. "I've had a lot of my mind lately with the touring. What are their names again?" His voice trailed off as they neared the long stretch limo that awaited them.

"Well, sir, the older one is a top model and a hopeful singer. The younger one is a rising model, you see." The butler explained rather quickly, glancing ahead at the second chauffeur, Jeffery, who was already awaiting them, with the limo door open. Leon blinked and nodded.

"What kind of genre?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Same as you, sir." The butler spoke with a soft nod of his head.

"Interesting," Was all Leon said before getting into the limo and leaving his butler on the side of the street. Jeffery closed the door with a light thud and walked towards the drivers side of the car to continue their way to the airport.

"Man! What's happening!"

Leon blinked, a little stunned when he saw Demyx almost take out his left arm with a powerful greeting type punch. The boy grinned rather widely as he draped a hand around Leon's neck and began chanting about things that Leon couldn't quite make out. All his words were becoming slurs and he had no clue what he was rambling on about.

"Let go of him Demyx. You look like some rabid fan boy," Riku spoke harshly from the seat far away, on the other side of the limbo. Demyx instantly let go of his grasp of Leon and extended a hand. Leon blinked slowly, for the third time this morning, and extended his and let a gentle smile wisp across his face.

"I take it your Demyx." Leon spoke. Even when he was being mauled by his fans, he still kept a cool and casual head. Completely different from the blue-haired boy who wasn't even reacting to his appearance.

"Right you are, Leon! And that little self-centered punk in the corner is my brother, Riku. Don't pay much attention to him, he's not into the music kind of thing we are," Demyx quickly spoke, making hand motions as if he was shooing Riku away. Riku glanced over when he had heard his name. Instantly he squinted his eyes and coughed angrily.

"Into the music kind of thing? Demyx, you murder music! You're disgracing yourself to even call yourself a musician!" Riku spoke, rolling his eyes.

"I take it he's not that friendly?" Leon spoke in a whisper to Demyx.

"I guess I'm not the only one who thinks that." Demyx replied loudly, almost breaking out in laughter. "Oh, Leon, when do you start explaining the world of fame to me?" Demyx asked hopefully.

"Us." Riku replied coldly.

"Erm yea, us," Demyx corrected himself, eyeing his brother.

"Once we arrive on the plane." Leon spoke sharply, before reaching into his pocket once more and withdrawing a guitar pick. Demyx grabbed it and noticed a small signature on it from Leon. A grin then passed Demyx as he raised it proudly in the air.

"Oh yeah! This rocks!" Demyx made known, emphasizing his words increasingly.

Only one more hour of driving before we make it to the airport and I can be away from these two fools, Riku told himself miserably. The sooner the better. Once we get to Rome I'm ditching them as fast as I know can. Who needs some lunatics like them anyhow?

Riku once more leaned his head against the tinted windows and closed his eyes as the rain filled his senses. Soon this all would be over and he'd be at Rome. Soon.


"Where is he headed?"

"Aren't you that guy-"

"I said no questions. Where is he headed?"

"But!"

"Answer the question."

" Rome."

Storming out of the store was a man clothed in black. Attached to his belt, cleverly hidden was a sword. Vacant blue eyes starred ahead as he left, while shoes made a gentle clank against the rainy ground beneath him. As he walked, rain pelted his bright blonde hair and made it's usual spiky appearance change into a long straight one. Something very uncommon for the man.

His name was Cloud Strife, a con-artist to say the least. In life, his only motto was take actions, ask questions later. Ever since he had turned fifteen, he had been on a search for a single man. A man who he hated with all of his heart. A man who he had barely knew, but still hated. That man was Sephiroth.

As he remebered, Sephiroth was the man to have lead the police to question Cloud. He had leaked information of Cloud's scandal downtown, and thusly caused much commotion. But Cloud, being the smooth talking con artist he was, easily slid out of the situation without a single fault or claim. But that wasn't all, the man had also attempted a shooting. An unsuccessful one, but none the less an attempt at murder.

And all because of one night. A night Cloud didn't really want to remember, so he erased it from his memory completely.

And now he was on a search, a search to find that man and make him pay. Find out why he hated him so much, and why he felt so compelled to make him suffer. It was as if he held some sort of part to him that Cloud has lost, and now he endeavored to find it once more.

But this was the first time in a long time that information actually pointed somewhere. The store-clerk, one of Sephiroth's closet friends, had told him his current location. Now, more than ever did hope gleam in Cloud's future. Now, for the first time in a long time, he had a lead.

Rome, that's where everything would end for Sephiroth.


AN:

So, did you like the part of the back stories and the beginning for each character? There will be Lexion in this story and a few other notable characters. And yes I know, Cloud's beginning was really short. That's because I didn't want to add that much information about him yet. That's for later chapters and for more detailed plot things.

Anyways

I'm deciding on Yuffie and Tifa right now, not sure. Anyways, I hope you liked it, and the idea (hopefully it's inventive). And you'll see more on the character's back stories as the story progresses. And like I said before, don't expect a couple to start right off the bat! And remember, some couples will start faster than others. I'm not going to say which couple, but one starts really quickly and another one takes a really really long time to develop. Anyway, leave a review! Feel free to add ideas or rant or whatever. Anything would be good (except flames, of course) seeing I won't continue until I get 10 reviews for this chapter.

And If I get enough reviews, I'll let a few of the guys answer a few choice reviews.