The halls of Castle Oblivion. A place all too familiar. The castle harbored much more than just the identical white rooms. However, any rooms to be found through the endless labyrinth of hallways were always empty. The room might be large, small, walls decorated with ornate carvings or be little more than a white box but always empty.

Lea knew this sudden change of interior must have been designed for his benefit. Undoubtedly Xehanort thought it amusing to force him to retrace the steps he took when apart of Organization Thirteen. Occasionally a door along the hallway would open to one of the big white rooms. But the next door would only be yet another long hallway. He tried not to think about how long he'd been walking. Time flows strangely when there's nothing to do but you're still anxious. What feels like a minute can easily be only a few seconds or nearly ten minutes. So there was no way for Lea to gauge how long he'd been separated from his friends.

An uncomfortable energy radiated from a door up ahead. The energy came down the hallway like a winter draft. Something would be there this time. That was only partly comforting. Something was better than nothing, but nothing is sometimes preferable when the 'something' is expected to be bad. Still, Lea wasn't one to shy away from a challenge or turn away to ensure his own safety. Fully knowing it could kick him in the teeth, Lea opened the door and entered the next room.

The room was the same as before. For all he knew, he kept circling back to the exact same one. Only, he was right that while it looked the same, this room was different. He'd only taken a few steps in before the door behind him closed on its own. But that was hardly unexpected. It happened every time. Yet Lea found his gaze turned behind him as the door closed all the same; knowing it wouldn't open again.

Suddenly he saw a flicker of black out of the corner of his eye. A door of Darkness opened across the room. Lea couldn't help but flinch in surprise when Xehanort himself stepped out of the blackness. Lea scowled. Not quite what he had been expecting. Why show up now? A face to face meeting…or an elimination round? Empty banter or bargain? Xehanort took several steps forward before stopping. But although his presence was menacing, his overall posture was not. It did not appear that he intended to fight; at least not at the moment anyway. But his face…what was that expression? His face looked neutral, but a minute smile tugged ever so lightly at the corners of his lips. It was difficult to see but once noticed it was all Lea could focus on. That grin spoke volumes yet it was hard to tell just what it meant. Nothing good, but with Xehanort nothing ever was. Not to mention there was another major point of importance Lea needed to address. His soul might burn with a warm, blazing fire, but right now the rest of him was ice.

"Where is Isa?"

That disgusting smirk stretched into a knowing smile.

"Presently? Nowhere you could hope to reach him."

Lea figured Xehanort wasn't referring to Isa's physical location.

"And should I choose to bring him here, what good would that do? What words did you have in mind to bring him back? That is what you were thinking, wasn't it? Somehow jostle his true self from his imprisoned heart and mind? Inspire his Light with your friendship and good intentions? An old phrase comes to mind. How does it go? 'Beating a dead horse'?"

Lea's stomach clenched with rage. Xehanort had the gall to mock him and his friend with such a cliché? And chuckle about it too! But Xehanort wasn't done.

"It certainly is interesting the things you can learn about someone once their heart and mind have been given to you."

You mean 'taken', Lea thought darkly.

"As a boy, your friend was certainly a paradox, wasn't he? Always acting as though the frivolity of others were a bore, like he didn't care. All the while masking his joy to spend time with friends. A rather emotionless youth, wasn't he? At least to those who didn't know him, correct? And if a friend needed him? Would he ever hesitate to come running at a moment's notice? Only to brush off any thanks because the incident which required assistance was foolish anyway? The fault of others? Not worth his time? Yet it was always just a guise for how much being needed really meant to him, wasn't it? Never one to-."

"Shut up!"

Lea felt his entire body shake. He couldn't care in the slightest if this was exactly the kind of reaction Xehanort was trying to pick at. Brief flashes of white fire huffed and spurted from his side of the room. The light in his emerald eyes danced with cold flame.

"You have no right to talk about him like you know him!"

"Of course, forgive me." Xehanort brushed off with false understanding.

That only ruffled Lea further. But as much as he wanted to, and as hard as it was not to, Lea didn't attack. A part of him knew fighting with this kind of fire in his gut would be trouble. He could go all-out, alright, but he wouldn't be fighting at his smartest. He would be no good to anyone if he went down because of a mistake that could have been avoided if he'd only had a clear head. But there didn't seem a lot of point to be talking about it further. What could he say Xehanort wouldn't just brush off? What could he demand Xehanort wouldn't laugh at? And, on his own, did he really have what it took to make Xehanort do anything? As much as it hurt to resist every ounce of his being demanding that he do something, Lea somehow kept himself from acting. Xehanort would get what was coming to him. Just maybe this second wasn't the time. Maybe holding off for just a little while would be best for his own sake too. After all, the pheasant that doesn't fly when the bird dog barks is the one that doesn't get shot.

Xehanort looked at him differently now. What was that? Intrigue? Had he been expecting Lea to fly off the handle when he spoke of Isa? The initial wave of rage had passed without incident. Would he try again? Just in case those weren't the right buttons to push?

"I must admit, I was genuinely surprised to learn the Keyblade had accepted you as a wielder."

Sudden topic change. Unexpected. He wasn't thrown off by the statement though. However, Xehanort wasn't finished.

"For some, it is easy, sometimes obvious to see why Destiny chose them to take up the Keyblade, but for others,"

Xehanort looked at him and chuckled quietly. Lea said nothing. His opinions of what made a person worthy of the Keyblade didn't mean anything.

"Although, there is no denying the complex design Fate weaves around us. It is truly a wonder how even the briefest encounters, separated by many, many years can come back full-circle. Perhaps you were meant to be led to this path long, long before you were the Flurry of Dancing Flames."

"You know, the key to a good discussion is to first make sense."

"The power of this place has been listening to your memories as you wandered its halls."

On your order too, creepy old man.

"Fragments, pieces, faint whispers, little of consequence. However, I discovered something quite intriguing."

Not a bit surprised he's been grasping for memories, probably thinks he'll find something he can use to put me off my game.

"Oddly, it was a far off memory that whispered the loudest. Seeing how things turned out, it would be foolish to claim it was coincidence. Are you perhaps unaware that your path crossed not once, but twice with individuals touched by the will of the Keyblade? One, it appears, you know well."

"Fine, I'll say it: You've lost me." I really want him to just shut up. But he probably won't let me pass until he's said his piece.

"Oh? Perhaps you truly are unaware? Interesting. Perhaps…perhaps I should show you? Would you care to see? I've seen enough of that charming little memory to show it in its entirety. And there is no need to worry. I will make my leave so you may enjoy the stroll through an old memory. Now is not the time to fight. That will come soon enough."

Xehanort held out his hand. The air around it rippled with energy. Lea was familiar with that power. It was similar to sampling memories to create tangible tokens, like how Sora's memories made card worlds. But this was a little different somehow. Xehanort tilted his hand, like he was allowing something invisible in his palm to fall. Odd. Right after, thick black mist formed around him and started spreading throughout the room. A door of Darkness appeared behind Xehanort. If Lea hadn't been so familiar with it, he would never have known it had appeared through the blackness.

"I meant what I said before. I have no intention of fighting you now. But there is another thing for you to consider as you visit a forgotten memory. If I can show you one of your own memories as clearly as the day it happened simply by sifting through fragments as you wandered the halls, what else could I do if I so chose?"

And he vanished.

The black mist rushed throughout the room. Lea held up both his hands. A wall of fire appeared in front of him. The blackness parted around him but had engulfed the entire room. It only lasted a second then vanished. The room had also vanished. He knew this place. It was one of the wide open squares back home, back before the city began to be affected by the powers of Darkness. The stone square was so clean it practically glowed. The flowers were in full bloom all over. So this was a memory of his home world? Not that surprising. But this wasn't Radiant Garden just created from a memory. This was an actual memory viewed as though on a movie screen, only the screen was everywhere.

But why was this important? Was he about to see a long-forgotten or suppressed trauma to shake him for the battle ahead? Would he be trapped within his own memory? Would there be a door to find? Or would everything just vanish as the memory ended? What good would this do for Xehanort anyway? Just proving how he could toy with them? Of course, Lea himself had once said how you don't argue with delusional people. Xehanort's reasons only had to make sense to him.

Lea glanced around the square. When was this supposed to be? There were a few people meandering in the distance but that didn't tell him anything. Thankfully this alteration of memory to reality did not hinder his mobility. He could move freely in this place and objects felt solid. But Lea suspected to the people, he may as well be a ghost. The rooms created from memory before worked nothing like this. Then again, was that simply limited by the Organizations' understanding of how the powers of memory and the powers of Castle Oblivion could work hand in hand? Or was Xehanort just adding his own personal touches to an otherwise limited ability? Either way, he may as well keep going.

Only he didn't go far before coming to a surprised halt when he saw very familiar faces entering the square. It was himself and Isa! A lot younger but unmistakable. When was this? Maybe a year before he and Isa tried to sneak into the castle? A little longer? Ish? But he was confident it was before that time. But…was this what Xehanort wanted to show him? An old memory of him and his best friend? Would make sense after making such a scene about him earlier. Then again, Xehanort had also spouted something about how Lea had crossed paths with others destined to be key bearers. And one of them he knew? Of course, perhaps this was just a mind game of some kind? That was not at all outside off Xehanort's wheelhouse. Maybe there was nothing profound about this memory at all but a pre-conceived notion might have him making non-existent connections if he viewed it while thinking it was significant.

Irritated he had so many 'what ifs' to sift through but keen to see it through and make it out, Lea wandered closer to the younger versions of himself and Isa. His younger self had his arms crossed behind his head as he walked. This must have been some time in the afternoon. The two boys confirmed they'd hang out the next day before saying a casual farewell and parting ways. This wasn't new or shocking. Every day of hanging out, being lazy or somehow getting into trouble usually ended that way. Wait, this wasn't what Xehanort meant, was it? Surely that other person wasn't meant to be Isa. Could…could he have been accepted as a key bearer too if things had gone differently?

What a way to jump to conclusions. Lea scolded himself. That's like trying to guess how a movie will end before the beginning credits are over. This memory walk has only just started and there's no telling how it might turn out yet.

Lea watched young Isa's retreating back as he walked home. Who was he supposed to follow? Probably himself, this was supposed to be his memory after all. Of course, walking a pace behind and beside himself felt very strange. But as far as memories went, Lea couldn't think of how this was significant. So far it looked pretty ordinary. There was nothing really to be said of the one of hundreds of times he and his best friend parted company to go home for the evening.

Suddenly his younger self froze mid-step. He actually stood there, foot suspended mid-air for several long seconds with a puzzled look. Lea studied that expression, unsure what it was about (and a peculiar opportunity not many got). But it also troubled him.

Lea never told his friends, or anyone for that matter that he did have a few gaps in his own memory. When he first realized it, it was alarming but at the same time not at all that surprising. He'd lost his heart, spent a fair amount of time as a shadow of himself, died and then recompleted as though nothing had ever happened. It would have been foolish to think after all his heart had been through everything would put itself back together perfectly without scars or broken pieces. For the most part, Lea didn't feel like he was missing anything he couldn't live without. But it still made him uneasy sometimes. There had been times he'd revisit an old memory for no reason, then realize there were gaps, like a spliced piece of film. Sometimes a bit of coaxing was all he needed to fill in the gap. Other times it was like thinking about a song you'd heard a few times but just can't remember one or two lines. No matter how many times you go over the lyrics in your head those few words refuse to fill in on their own. Yet, if you know the rest of the song, the missing words have to be floating around in your noggin somewhere despite how impossible it seems to knock them loose.

And that was how Lea felt as he watched this memory unfold. He had no recollection of what happened next. All he could do was watch and hope it would start feeling familiar soon. His younger self put his foot down and lowered his arms. His expression went from puzzled to focused. That face was…listening. After a second his memory-self turned to a crescent moon shaped series of stone benches near the edge of the square. The benches had wide backs that had been carved out into flower pots. Hooking his thumbs on the edges of his pockets, young-Lea went to check it out. He wasn't weaving among the benches long before discovering the source of the noise.
Behind a bench, half-covered by a veil of leafy vines huddled a small, sniffling child. Somehow the tiny, gasping dry sobs had caught his attention. Good thing too. There didn't appear to be anyone around who was missing a kid. Young-Lea crouched by the tyke and lifted the vines away so he could see. It was a little girl. She had a white frilly skirt with pink shoes. Her short hair had been pulled back into pigtails. During his approach, she'd been looking the other way so when he lifted the vines and said a pleasant, 'Hey there!' she understandably jumped and her gasp became a sharp squeak.

"Having fun under there?"

She stared wide-eyed at him. Her cheeks were bright pink and tear-streaked. That wasn't good. So, he'd just have to fix it.

"Mind if I join you?"

She just stared. Young-Lea parted the vines behind the bench right next to her and sat down, letting them fall over his shoulders.

"Are you hiding?"

She stared.

"Is someone after you?"

More staring.

"Are you lost?"

That did it. Those big round eyes sparkled with fresh tears. Her lip quivered and she rang the hem of her skirt in her fist, no doubt a subconscious coping mechanism to the stress of being alone and not knowing where she was.

"Hey, now stop that. I can't stand to see a pretty girl cry."

Lea had been standing back a little as he watched the entire interaction. His memory-self dried a few tears and hadn't stopped smiling reassuringly. He too couldn't help but smile. But at the same time Lea still felt no familiarity to this memory beyond what was happening right in front of him. This memory wasn't a fabrication made up by Xehanort to toy with him. Remaining as objective as he could, Lea concluded these events really did happen. However, he still didn't feel connected to them. As right and familiar it was to watch, he couldn't fast forward in his own head to know the ending.

"Looks like the only choice we have is getting you back where you belong."

Young-Lea got up on his knees and offered the girl his hand. She just looked at him, less scared but more confused. Of course, that lengthy sentence wasn't clearly stating he wanted to help. She was after all, what? Two? Three-ish maybe?

"C'mon," Young-Lea said kindly. "I'll help you get home."

'Help' and 'Home'. Now that she understood. He looked surprised when she jumped passed his offering hand and clung to his shirt, looking up at him with desperate eyes, quietly begging that he really would do as he said. Young-Lea laughed a little and picked her up. He chuckled a little more at the way she clung to him like a koala as he stood up. Even when he put her down on the bench, her tiny fist was still clenched tightly around the edge of his bandana.

"Where do you live? Which street did you come from? Does one of them look familiar?"

The tyke looked around, lightly chewing her other fist anxiously. She whimpered when she couldn't answer the question. She looked up at him, on the verge of breaking down crying again. Young-Lea's heart went out to her. He felt bad that being that pitiful also looked so adorable.

Wait…Lea had started recognizing feelings. He was beginning to connect to the memory. Still, he couldn't see through to how it ended.

The memory-Lea looked thoughtful. Then he smiled as an idea came to him. He picked her up from under her arms and lifted her up on his shoulders.

"Cheer up. We'll just walk around for a while. Keep a sharp eye out, now. Let me know the second you see something or someone you know."

From there the memory behaved strangely. Young-Lea and the little girl would randomly fade out then reappear a distance away later. Lea understood why. This was a time lapse. They wandered the streets for some time after that. He knew that. He also knew how he'd spoken to several people about if the girl was from their part of the city. A near-perfect connection had been made to the memory now. Lea knew all that happened in the lapsed time even though he hadn't seen it. But he still couldn't see through to the ending.

He also couldn't see what being a good Samaritan to a scared little girl had to do with anything. Of course there was always the fall-back theory this memory never had anything to do with anything at all other than keep his focus turned elsewhere.

The memory slowed to normal speed. Lea followed the pair down the last street that branched out from the square. The little girl leaned heavily over young-Lea's head. The time they'd spent searching and the energy she'd spent crying before had worn her out. Young-Lea kept on talking to her and tapping her legs to make sure she stayed awake.

"This is the last street. Don't fall asleep up there. I need you to point out anything you recognize. I've never been this far to the outskirts before so I don't know where I'm going. You're in charge. You'll be home before dark, you'll se-ow! Ow! Ow!"

Memory-Lea stopped abruptly when the little girl suddenly gripped his hair tightly with both fists. Few things get your attention like getting your hair pulled. She'd twisted her body on his shoulders so he turned that direction too. Off to the left a short, wide staircase rose up to another street level. Over the railing young-Lea saw a man and woman talking. The woman was speaking very fast and looked very upset while the older man she was talking to tried to calm her down.

"Mommy!"

The woman turned when the little girl shrieked her first word. Young-Lea barely reacted fast enough to catch her as she flung herself off his shoulders. She hit the ground running in a way that was quite impressive for one so young. The woman hurriedly came down the stairs. Clinging to the rail at the bottom, she dropped to her knees. This didn't look easy as she was very, very pregnant.

The little girl dove into her mothers' arms and began wailing hysterically. The woman too broke down crying with relief. The old neighbor waved to another man from behind him up the stairs. The new man jumped the stairs two at a time to reach the bottom. The girl saw her daddy and flung up her arms to him and received the biggest bear hug in all of recorded history. After taking a moment to calm himself down, the man helped his wife to her feet and held his girls as close and as tight as he could.

About that time memory-Lea decided to make his exit. He didn't want to intrude or break up a special family moment so he quietly retreated back up the street. Besides, mother had taught him well that true acts of charity must be done anonymously. Young-Lea crossed his arms behind his head again, positively beaming as he went home. He'd done a great deed for that sweet little girl and it felt amazing. On the inside a smile kept growing wider and brighter.

At that point Lea could remember exactly what he'd felt when he went home that day. That little girl was safe and no longer scared. Though her fear was probably nothing like what her parents had gone through. Lea remembered wondering how she'd gotten lost. He remembered thinking she'd probably passed out exhausted in her fathers' arms and perhaps slept in her parents' bed that night. He remembered wondering how long it would be before she became a big sister. He remembered thinking how lucky she was to have that privilege.

Lea also knew what happened next. So he stopped. His young memory-self had made it back to the square he'd begun at. Lea counted the seconds before his memory-self also stopped, lowered his arms and turned back to the street across the square that led back to the outskirts of Radiant Garden. A thoughtful look clouded his face. Lea remembered, word for word, the exact sentence that went through his mind at that moment.

I don't think I ever actually asked that little squirts' name.

Lea's past-self shrugged, thinking they'd perhaps cross paths if she was ever out for a family walk or something. In fact, for several weeks after the encounter Lea could remember keeping an eye out for her.

The world around him started to get misty and fade away. The memory was over. But Lea remained still, puzzled and thinking. What exactly had been the point of that? Xehanort's last words did ring with an unsettling promise. If Xehanort had been able to see a memory from pieces he'd found from Lea wandering the halls…what else had he seen? What else could he do? Was this innocent memory just a warning he had the power to find and unleash a memory that really could strike a chord? Already it was unnerving to think Xehanort could do that just by focusing from a distance and not actually sampling a memory directly. Of course, there might be another possibility too. Maybe getting that memory was a fluke. Maybe Xehanort only said what he had just to make Lea think he had more power than he actually did. Lea's stomach clenched with disgust at the thought either way. On the one hand none of his memories were safe from being trespassed. On the other hand Xehanort could've bluffed but now he was left feeling irritated and a bit paranoid trying to figure out which.

Trying not to think about it too much, it was time to see if the next door actually went anywhere. But…there was that other thing Xehanort had said about that memory. Someone he knew who had also been touched by the destiny of the Keyblade? Maybe he'd been too focused on the girl to have noticed if a face he'd asked if she lived nearby was familiar or something. Or, maybe that was it. Maybe it was just another fib to keep his focus elsewhere. Maybe the more engaged he was with the memory the longer he'd be in it. The longer he viewed the memory the more time would pass without him in the way. Like trying to play Where's Waldo in a picture book about dinosaurs. A lot of time is wasted looking for something that doesn't exist. Still…something itched in his mind that somehow Xehanort (surprisingly) hadn't been lying. But if that were the truth, just who had he met back then-?

Lea froze, his hand laid flat against the door. There was a great detail he's skipped right over. How could he have missed it? But it couldn't be, right?

Idiot, A little voice in the back of his mind spat. Took you long enough to figure it out.

How was that possible? He had no idea what Xehanort could do with this information (apart from enjoy his reaction when it clicked) but it did strike a nerve, just not in the way Lea had been expecting. Then again, was it that impossible? From all that he'd seen or heard from first-hand accounts of, those kinds of coincidences don't just happen. It had to be. But his mind struggled with the incredible and the impossible. And what did it mean then? Xehanort hadn't been lying. He had crossed paths with those destined to the Keyblade before. And maybe…maybe it was…more than just the destiny of the Keyblade.

Crazy and impossible but it made sense somehow. That one detail was all that he could think about. That one detail said so much about who this was supposed to revolve around. Everything else around it made sense afterward. Impossible sense but sense all the same.

The detail was the color of the little girls' pigtails. Those little brown pigtails…