Second sight

The train glided to a stop at the local station and its doors hissed apart. People poured and scattered on the wide platform like streams from a delta. Fluorescent lights bathed the platform and the inhabitants with an artificial glow early in the morning. Steam swirled from styrofoam cups, leaving semi-opaque trails in the air.

Maya Fey stepped off the train and hauled a wheeled case behind her; she entered the platform, the magatama around her neck gleaming a dull gold. A half transparent, orange train launched with an old fashioned whistle and rode through an equally transparent tunnel into a world bathed by the soft light of a perpetual sunset. Grabbing her trolley, she purposefully strode through the crowd, pausing when a flash of a blue suit caught her eye.

"Nick!" she waved cheerfully and Phoenix broke into a smile. "It feels so good be back after so long," Maya dumped her luggage to Wright and he grinned resignedly. "I'm hungry," she announced as her stomach growled, "is there any new burger joints we can stop at?"

06:10 a.m.

Wright and Co. Lawyers agency

Apollo's office

Dragging the mike stand from the corner of his office, Apollo squared his shoulders; the tracksuit failed to keep the dawn chill at bay and he adjusted the stand, reminding himself to keep his exercise short for the sake of Trucy, sleeping next door on Athena's lemon yellow couch.

A loud knocking shattered his concentration and sucking a breath through his teeth, he yanked the door open.

Sora nearly collapsed in his arms.

He passed the obviously distressed young man a steaming cup of tea. "It's early," Apollo gestured to the barely rising sun poking through the blinds. "Mr. Wright went to receive someone at the train station," he informed, "I'm sure he'll return as soon as possible." Apollo's bracelet bit into his wrist as he unconsciously perceived one nervous tick after the other and he rubbed his arm in an effort to ease the pressure. "Did you have breakfast?" he asked, frowning when Sora mindlessly gazed at his reflection in the cup. "Drink it. Tea is calming," Apollo repeated one of Trucy's maxims.

The dark liquid swirled, Sora took another tentative sip and replaced it in its saucer. "The tea..." He swallowed. His head weighed a ton, a ton of cotton. "The tea sucks," he finished callously and blinked when the senior lawyer gasped.

Justice appeared younger without his fringe in twin, gelled spikes; auburn hair hid the frown lines on his forehead.

"I'm sorry." Sora rose abruptly and the tea sloshed. "I mean it's good," he frantically appeased Apollo, pouting angrily. "...It's not that good, ugh!" Sora put the tea on the table. "I want to go the KBWA," he wrung his hands, "I got a note saying Vanitas was detained."

Brown eyes hardening, Apollo sipped his tea and concluded it sucked. "Leave the tea making to Mr. Wright and Trucy," he scathed. Plopping on the chair behind his desk, he signed last minute documents and filed them while Sora paced agitatedly, the collar of his jacket rumpled around the muffler.

"The KBWA is detaining your brother in place of the police," Justice confirmed and Sora halted long enough for a nod and resumed pacing. "Considering your brother's special status," he delicately stated, "I think he'll be safer around people who understand him." Apollo leaned in his chair. "If you want to go," he sighed, "at least wait till Mr. Wright is back, I can't leave Trucy alone."

After much pacing, Sora eventually settled on a chair and dozed off. Replacing the mike in its usual place, Apollo lamented his missed exercise and spent the next half an hour hunting for a blanket.

The messy lounge offered only outfits Trucy outgrew, like the satin dress bejeweled in plastic rhinestones she once used for a performance. An array of brightly colored silk scarves popped from the lower box and he pulled it fascinatedly, giving up when the fabrics continued coming with no intention of stopping. He tripped over a plastic spaghetti model, kicked it under the tea cart and quietly stole in Athena's office to check if she kept any extra blankets on hand.

On the couch, Trucy snored, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Sunlight peeked through the curtains, creating alternating bands of light and shadow and Apollo pulled the drapes together, plunging the room into a quiet darkness. He quickly searched the chamber, found no blankets, not even a sheet, and went to Wright's office.

He hesitated at the threshold, surely Mr. Wright would understand.

"Of course he would," Apollo decided and entered. A keyboard immediately caught his attention and scoffing, he snatched a cushion off the divan and noted the pot plant's shriveled appearance. "No blankets," he muttered and pillow in hand, stalked to the exit and paused.

A giant oak wood bookshelf spanned the wall behind Phoenix's desk. As usual, papers, pens and newspaper clippings carpeted table but the space behind it radiated a dignified aura. Legal books crammed the shelves, Wright jokingly implied reading those books gave him a headache. Alongside tomes with titles written on their spines in gold lettering, were thick box files.

Once Justice asked Mr. Wright about the contents of the files, Phoenix said something, Apollo couldn't recall, but he remembered how his boss suddenly tensed, a subtle action; and with it, Apollo's stomach contracted unpleasantly.

The one person he failed to grasp properly, despite his advanced powers of perception, was Mr. Wright.

Voices echoed in the hallway and he hurried out of the office. Phoenix hauled a luggage carrier and a woman with a shock of raven black hair, clapped delightedly and inspected the agency. A traditional, lilac and white robe rustled with her movements; and her eyes held an otherworldly tint.

Inclining his head respectfully, Apollo greeted and found himself kissing the wall when Trucy burst out of Athena's office with a cheerful yell.

"Aunt Maya!" she exclaimed and embraced the woman with outstretched arms. "I missed you so much!" she continued, "taking care of Daddy and everyone is really tiring you know." Trucy pouted and Maya giggled her laugher like bells in the early morning. "...You had a burger didn't you? I can sense it, you can't fool me," Trucy declared as Maya broke into a full blown laughter and suddenly, she appeared less like a fairy and more like one of Wright's crazy companions.

"Did something happen?" Phoenix pointed to the scatter cushion. "Having a headache?"

"It's Sora," Apollo explained, "his brother is detained at the KBWA and now he's sleeping after having a breakdown in my office."

Phoenix blinked concernedly, righted the luggage carrier against the wall and whisked to Apollo's office with the latter trailing behind. Despite Trucy's yell and Maya's boisterous laughter, Sora slept on, his head meeting the desk at an awkward angle. Klavier regarded the attorney from his lofty perch on the wall.

"He wants to visit the KBWA, and he's pretty adamant about it," Justice said and tried to carefully wedge the cushion under Sora's head. The novice mumbled under his breath and relaxed, the top half of his head resting on the pillow. "What?" Apollo demanded, a blush creeping on his cheeks when Phoenix smiled meaningfully. "I have a lot of practice with taking care of Trucy," he defended himself. "By the way," he added as an afterthought, "who is she? Maya?"

Laughter bubbled in the corridors, all the way from the lounge.

In front of the mantelpiece, Wright inspected Apollo the cactus. "My mentor's sister and a precious friend, she is also the current head of the Fey clan. I asked her help in this case," Phoenix elaborated and pricked his finger on a thorn. "She'll understand Vanitas' predicament better than anyone of us," he confidently stated and examined the golden ornament Apollo proudly displayed.

"Can," Sora sleepily interjected and massaged his sore neck, "can Ms. Maya come with me to the KBWA?"

"To clarify, Zack had nothing to do with this."

Golden yellow flags fluttered atop cobalt blue turrets. A garden wrapped around the castle, wind whispered through the leaves of manicured hedges and trees in full bloom. The scent of vanilla hung heavily in the air and dewdrops clung to his boots as Vanitas lazily circled the courtyard. Heat warmed his back and a pair of annoying chipmunks followed him, their tails flashing quicksilver as they darted up tree trunks and scampered from one outstretched branch to the other.

The vibrant world assaulted his senses. Too much color, too bright. The air smelled crisp clean, unlike the smog and city smells he grew up with. A cherry tree bore fruit, the cherries sinfully red and too perfect to eat. Driven by a sense to shatter the flawless normality, he struck the tree with Void Gear and several fruits fell into his outstretched hands. As he ate, staining his lips to lipstick red, new fruits popped on the tree with cartoonish rapidity.

He promptly tossed the remaining cherries away.

Hours ago, he woke to a loud, mechanical humming and bolted upright to the bizarre sensation of hurtling through space. Sure enough, the cosmos streaked by through the wide, front windows of a ship. Stars blurred in streaks of white, micro-planets winked and he silently gasped when he recognized the Land of Dragons.

A man with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth manned the controls and steered the Gummi ship through a tunnel of neon lights. The ship emerged into a field of stars which looked like they came out of Mario and the golden shapes scattered, revealing the greyish, pitted surface of a looming asteroid.

Confused and more than enraged, Vanitas seized this crucial moment to ask a question.

"Where am I?" he snarled, his voice bouncing in the ship confines.

The driver ignored him and the Gummi ship dove through a hole in the rock, passing through a horde of scarlet eyed monsters. A wing scraped against the asteroid's surface and the entire ship skidded sideways. A metal can bonked Vanitas on his head and seizing it, he flung it at the controls. It bounced off a sparking force field and rolled to a stop at his feet.

A clump of rice scattered over his boots.

"Yer in the Gummi ship, what does it look like?" the driver snarked when they pulled free of the danger zone. "The KBWA told me to transport you to Disney Castle," he cocked his head back and smiled. "Name's Cid Highwind by the way, take a seat." Cid nodded to a vacant chair next to him and returned to manning the controls, the fine wrinkles around his eyes deepening with concentration. "It's for your own safety."

Patting his pockets, Vanitas frantically searched for his phone and cursed. Shaking the rice off his boots, he reluctantly sat, buckling up when the ship started firing at a bunch of weird creatures scratching the windows with giant nails. The control panel flashed in a series of colors and it reminded him of painfully of evenings spent on the couch back home, competitively playing racing games with his brother.

"Can I send a message?" he asked, using every ounce his willpower to remain civil. "My brother is probably worried...pfft, probably." Vanitas broke into a hysterical guffaw, shoulders shaking, sweat cropping on the base of his hairline. "Who the hell decided I wanted an outer space trip?" he screeched and faltered when the monster resolutely stuck on the side of the ship, grew bigger and growled. Its incensed rage penetrated the thick plates of metal, glass and magic layering the ship. "I want to go back home!" he hissed insistently and yanked the steering wheel.

The ship stayed on course.

It landed in a hangar similar to the one in the KBWA; except this hanger contained several other Gummi ships of different models which were decidedly better than the battered, floating scrapyard of a ship the Association used. Cid smoked all the way to Disney Castle, clouding the cockpit with acrid fumes. He only spoke again when Vanitas angrily disembarked and scowled at the new world though golden irises.

As the doors to the Gummi ship closed and the traffic control cleared it for lift off, Vanitas quietly thanked Cid. The old man smiled, face barely visible through the scratched glass.

At least Zack won't need to bear the brunt of his wrath when he returned, Vanitas kicked the grass, the uniform greenery reminded him of cake frosting. The thought comforted him. Lately, his mentor deserved more respect, he wrinkled his nose at his sweater, if only Zack Fair could stop wearing such old man clothes.

Though, Vanitas relented and picked the sweater wool, Zack had nice arms; he deserved to show them off.

A freshly baked cake aroma weaved through the trees and he inhaled hungrily. Maybe the grass was mint candy; he plucked a blade, chewed it and spat it out when it failed to meet his expectations. The chipmunks twittered at him and he glared, willing them to get caught in a hunter's trap. With nothing to do, Vanitas resumed his walk and tried to count the hours as the sun slowly inched across a shockingly blue sky. Cotton candy clouds drifted, the dew clinging to his shoes resembled drops of sugar syrup.

"Clavius," a person called and Vanitas nearly jumped three feet in the air. "The King summons you," Nox droned.

Masking his surprise, he frowned at his classmate. "And what are you? The King's personal lackey?" he sarcastically asked.

Riku raised his head, the ends of the blindfold a dark ribbon hiding among his hair. "I'm a knight," he intoned and spun on his heel. "You better not keep his majesty waiting." The air of superiority he left in his wake crushed Vanitas' wavering confidence into bits of gravel.

Seething and stomping in Riku's footsteps, Vanitas entered the Castle foyer, boots echoing on alabaster. Golden emblem emblazoned banners hung in the double height ceiling and fluttered, despite no breeze passing through the vestibule. Sunlight slanted through the arched corridor, illuminating the motifs etched on the tiles. The castle resonated with righteousness and light; and Vanitas curled his toes appreciatively.

He liked it here; if he worked hard enough, will he be granted a knight status like the silver haired pansy prancing in front of him?

"You will meet the King in the audience chamber, show him due respect," Nox stressed and strode briskly.

They stopped by a pair of helmed guards flanking a wide, wooden door and nodding to them, Riku entered, stepping on a royal pink, velvet carpet splicing the enormous throne chamber in half. More banners hung from the ceiling and a white throne with gold gilt dominated the far end.

A mouse sat on the throne, robed in the casual outfit of a black shirt and red pants decorated with lots of silver zippers.

"The King… the King is a mouse?" Vanitas disbelievingly stuttered as the King jumped from the throne and the Queen curtsied. A golden tiara sat neatly between her rounded ears and she clasped her gloved hands regally. "Is this a joke? I'm a dreaming?" he eyed Nox, secretly pleased to anger the normally unflappable man.

"I'm King Mickey-" Mickey began.

"Whoa!" Vanitas exclaimed. "It speaks." He studied the mouse king who did not wilt under his scrutiny. "So Mickey-"

"King Mickey," Riku scathingly corrected.

"King Mickey," Vanitas mocked. "Why am I here? It's a long way from home and I don't appreciate surprises. Specifically ones involving me waking up in a rickety old ship and ending in a world I could care less about." The throne room's glaring whiteness bothered him. The castle paled in comparison to the shiny garden, the color stopped at the courtyard paved with sandstone bricks. "The KBWA tossed me here without my knowledge," he grudged and searched for a place to sit. His feet ached from spending the entire morning upright, but apart from the grand, marble thrones, the chamber offered no other seating areas. Vanitas plopped on the ground and stretched on the lush carpet.

Riku glared at him through the blindfold.

The King and Queen glanced at each other and at the black haired young man sprawled on the carpet. Minnie helplessly shrugged, a subtle roll of her shoulders and swept out of the chamber, her puffed frock whirling.

"Did Leon not tell you my Castle is the Keyblade Wielder's Association Headquarters?" Mickey questioned. "There are a lot of KBWA branches scattered across the cosmos," he informed, "and all the information comes here. Jiminy records everything in miniature journals and they are further updated on electronic databases." As he spoke, an interested gleam passed Vanitas' eyes. "I asked you to come here because I wanted to meet you," Mickey elaborated, "and introduce you to your companions."

The door opened again to admit two other individuals and a bunch of, Vanitas perked; not quite trusting his eyes, besom brooms in the audience chamber. He glanced at the King who simply smiled; and at Riku whose face remained irritatingly blank.

The chosen companions ambled forward, one carrying a shield embossed with the same emblem on the banners and another irritably fixing its beret and waving a magic staff topped with a wizard hat.

"My...my companions," Vanitas articulated sluggishly, "are an anthropomorphic duck and a dog?" His statement turned into a question. "I'm supposed to have a talking duck and a dog follow me through Los Angeles...how is this not weird?" he hissed. "A two legged dog with a shield and duck holding a staff? Really?" he barked. "Can they fight?"

A blur of silver and black launched from beside the throne and Vanitas inhaled sharply as he barely summoned Void Gear and stopped Riku from slicing his shoulder apart. A bunch of roads spun above Nox' head, from dawning sun to pitch black night to a time in between; twilight. He raised his Keyblade and slammed it down viciously.

Vanitas retreated and quickly shook his wrists.

"Can I fry him?" the duck quacked and raised its staff when Vanitas gawked.

The momentary distraction cost him as Riku's boot landed squarely in his abdomen and sent him soaring through the air. A banner wrapped around his body and softened his fall. He rolled and thrust his Keyblade upwards, clucking in annoyance when Riku dodged effortlessly and stabbed the Keyblade inches from Vanitas' head.

"I want to fry him," the duck decided and the dog quickly intervened.

"You can't do that Donald," the dog reasoned, "we are here to protect him remember?"

Riku's Keyblade dissolved in a flash of black light, he grasped Vanitas' collar and hauled him upright. "Donald Duck is a court magician," he tossed his head to the fuming duck, "and Goofy is the leader of the Knights, they serve the King. Appearances aside-" Vanitas pulled himself from Nox's grasp and cursed when the front of his sweater tore, "-they are extremely formidable in battle." The scraps of wool in Riku's hand smoldered and he opened his palm to let the dust drift to the floor. "I've said this before, show respect, not everyone you meet will be human."

He turned, his long hair flitting elegantly.

"Ever since I came here," Vanitas muttered to himself, "I've seen trees instantly bearing fruit, a bunch of walking brooms." He tried very hard to ignore those brooms, however, they went around, sweeping the floor and performing magic. "...And a bunch of anthropomorphic animals." The King placated his fuming magician and Vanitas sneered when Donald's eyes slid over him. "Two of those talking animals are going to be my companions." He poked the loose threads of Zack's ruined sweater. "Hmm...I think I'll be able to believe anything now."

He mentally congratulated himself as a broom picked the fallen banner off the spotless floor and returned it to the ceiling.

Donald and Goofy examined their new charge. "I'm not healing him!" Donald furiously announced and glowered at the ebony haired young man. "Did you see how he insulted us?" he raised his staff threateningly and Mickey sighed. "I want to test his battle prowess."

"By launching a thundaga at him?" Goofy strapped his shield behind his back. "Gawrsh, I don't think it will make a good impression."

"He didn't try making a good impression on us!" Donald banged his staff on the floor. "Why do we need to follow this rookie around? We might as well work with him," he pointed his wing at Riku standing silently on the side. "I don't like the look of this neophyte," Donald protested.

Vanitas grinned sarcastically. "Feeling's mutual," he tossed the words over his shoulder and perched on Mickey's throne for a nap.

02:00 p.m.

Police precinct

Keyblade Wielder's Association

A square, two story building with lots of windows. Guards patrolled the front gate; police issued firearms holstered on their waists. A path wound through a lawn and led to the front, glass doors.

It's… normal.

He conjured an image of a war factory. Tall, chain-link fences topped with spools of razor wire. Search lights sweeping across the compound and watchtowers mounted with heavy artillery and teeming with guards waving keyblades around. To his slight disappointment, it appeared like any other important building, with lots of cameras and a stifling silence.

The extravagant lobby offered bottles of cold water and a luminous green drink for free.

Eying the drink dubiously, Sora accepted water and drowned it, sighing in satisfaction. Apollo joined him on the row of plush armchairs lining a wall and Maya conferred with a beautiful receptionist in a pale yellow suit dress. Locks of chestnut hair curled around her shoulders and she smiled and nodded attentively. Behind her rose a mountain peak and Sora squinted at the title written in old fashioned script at the bottom. Olympus, it read.

Bronze lamps hung from the ceiling above every desk, casting mellow pools of light. A giant monitor flickered every few minutes and Sora frowned, a monitor in such an obscure place? People could barely see it. He tensed when Maya returned and sunk into an adjacent couch, holding a fancy crystal bottle of neon green liquid. The drink smelled of fruit and ice-cream; and Sora regretted not getting one of those.

"Are we going to wait long?" Justice asked, bangs poking his eyes. Sora managed to convince him not to gel his fringe today and Trucy playfully slid a clip in his hair. "Did they say where Vanitas was?" he further questioned.

Taking a long sip of the potion, Maya waited for the elevator doors to open. "She told me to speak with the higher ups," she pointed downwards. "Here they are."

The trio stood as a man with a scar slashing his face wove through the lobby, a pendant winked on his chest. "Madame Fey," Leon dipped his head in greeting and his light blue eyes came to a stop at Sora.

Sora instinctively stepped in Apollo's shadow.

"Call me Maya; Madame Fey makes me sound old!" Maya protested and waved her hands. "Did Belle tell you why we are here?" she clasped her hands behind her back. "Sora is worried about Vanitas."

"I sent a letter specifically to rest those worries," Squall droned and indicated the lift. "We can discuss this in the boardroom, step this way."

The elevator ascended one floor up and opened to a room filled with blinking monitors and people rapidly tapping on keyboards. In this ocean of low chatter and chaos, rooted a glass walled room. Sora entered the island like chamber in the middle of the control room and his attention snagged on a giant portrait.

Isn't he the Organization XIII delivery boy? The one Vanitas liked to tip?

The blonde boy in the middle wore a somber expression and wielded a short keyblade in reverse grip. Behind the trio immortalized in the painting, rose dusty cliffs and barren wasteland. Tentatively seating between Maya and Apollo, Sora adjusted his muffler and waited for Squall to speak. Another woman sat to his right, gloved hands poised over the keyboard of a sleek laptop.

"I...I came here to see Vanitas." Sora forced his chin up. "I need to ask him questions regarding the incident."

"He is detained at headquarters," the scarred man immediately answered.

Headquarters?

A little uneasy by the tense atmosphere, Justice spoke, "I thought this was headquarters?" He vaguely gestured to the building.

"This is only a branch," the woman offered and shut the laptop with a soft thud. "I am vice-chief Lockhart," she introduced herself and dipped her head in greeting. "Madame Fey-"

"Maya," Maya interjected with a frown.

"Maya." Tifa's eyes crinkled into a kind smile. "It is an honor to see you again." Maya blushed and self-consciously tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ears. "Clavius has been sent to headquarters via the Gummi ship."

The what now?

"Gummy...ship?" Justice touched his bangle. "You're making it sound he's in another country," he scowled uncertainly, "or another planet." Apollo laughed, his chuckles abating when the KBWA members remained gravely silent. "...I was joking."

The only features the Clavius twins shared were their face; and even then, their eye and hair color were totally different. Leon silently filed the information as he studied Sora, the young man tried and miserably failed to keep his gaze. His irises were blue.

Blue like the sky and sea.

"Clavius is on another micro-planet," Squall eventually responded and Apollo's mouth hung comically open while Sora choked on air and strangled himself with the scarf. "From your reaction I suppose you don't have the second sight? It's odd, your brother's second sight is unusually strong, it gives him headaches."

Second sight? Sora helplessly turned to his senior who shrugged. He eyed Maya for guidance and she smiled knowingly, her eyes dreamy and swimming with stars.

"Simply put, there is a magical world existing alongside the materialistic one," the vice-chief explained and pointed to the vast mural. It shimmered and the cityscape disappeared for numerous planets orbiting a giant ball of light. "Second sight is the ability to see beyond the material, it normally manifests as orange settings." The mural pixelated and settled back to a medieval town, dimly lit with iron wrought lamps and streets paved with cobblestone.

Rummaging in his pocket, Sora brought out a hastily scrawled questionnaire. "I have questions," he announced. "Will you answer them?" Despite the air conditioner, the back of his neck sweated.

"Yes…whatever." Leon intoned. He and Tifa exchanged an unspoken agreement. "To the best of my abilities, I will tell you whatever you want to know." He steepled his fingers above the marble table.

Taken aback by their openness, Sora read the first question. "What does the KBWA do?" he queried, "and what is your goal?"

Leon's eyes swiveled to the constellation of electric lights in the ceiling.

"The KBWA was established to keep a tab on Keyblade wielders and keep them safe." He pretended not to notice the two attorneys shifting uncomfortably in their seats. "We have two main goals. One is to find the wielder of the Kingdom Key, the King." He pensively zoned on the portrait of the KBWA founders. "The second main goal is to terminate the Replica Project." He waited for an additional question but none came. "Other priority goals include the elimination of heartless, unversed and nobodies," Leon continued. "Our members lock doors," a fleeting smile crossed his scarred face when the younger attorney numbly repeated his words, "and try to keep the balance between darkness and light from tipping in favor of each one." Squall eased back in his chair, "any more questions?"

Sora placed his questionnaire flat on the table, head swimming in bewilderment. "Can…can the Keyblade alter a wielders personality?" he seriously questioned.

05:00 p.m.

Commercial district

Back roads - scene of crime

The blood spatter stains dulled, bleached by the sun. A paper bag tumbled down the alley, shiny new trash cans littered the corners and Sora pored over the tiny lines scored in the street and up the walls. Not done by a keyblade, he concluded and retraced his steps to the main street where cars honked and traffic lights changed colors in a monotonous rhythm. Leonhart Squall and Tifa Lockhart answered all of his questions and either they pulled the wool very cleverly over his eyes, Sora crumpled the questionnaire in his pocket, or they told nothing but the absolute truth.

But honestly, how did another world exist alongside this one?

People briskly walked over pedestrian crossings, head held high, purpose in their stride. Lights danced across shop fronts, the ice-cream vendor stretched a service smile across his face and topped cones with rainbow sprinkles. According to Tifa, beneath this lay a different world, one of tangerine outlines and heartless.

"What are heartless?" Sora asked.

"Those without hearts," Leon replied.

How helpful.

A car honked at an intersection and Sora observed the blue van parked opposite, he grinned viciously. He knew most criminals often revisited the scene of the crime. Near him, Trucy and Apollo bickered while sharing an ice-cream and jealously bubbled in his chest.

He wished he had someone to share ice-cream with.

"Want some?" Cue Trucy hopping over as if she read his mind. She held a cone filled with chocolate chip and vanilla with a flake stuck on top. Behind her, Apollo vainly tried to remove a new stain on his waistcoat. "Did the blue van come?" Trucy impatiently dumped the ice-cream in Sora's hand and scanned the street. "There it is!" she excitedly pointed and grabbed him, "we should confront the criminal."

Before she could dash across the road, another suspicious person squeezed into the alleyway and Sora tailed the stranger, the ice-cream melting over his fingers, his heart slamming against his ribs. Trucy held on her hat and followed him while Apollo opted to wait for Maya, who initially accompanied them to investigate, but lost herself in Organization XIII.

"Hey!" A loud voice protested and Sora dropped his cone, a scoop of ice-cream upended on his shoe.

He gaped at it angrily while Trucy brazenly came face to face with a photographer clicking away at the bloodstains. A female hissed at another man who vied with her for space and promptly moved in front of him. The two energetically recorded the details, competing with each other till Trucy waved genially. Sora meekly trailed her, stuffing a wad of soggy tissue in his pocket.

"Name's Lotta Hart!" the woman energetically exclaimed and thumped a thumb to her sternum. "I'm an investigative and paranormal photographer." She smiled, flashing a row of pearly whites.

Paranormal? Sora scoffed under his breath.

"I'm telling you the murder here was done by monsters," she stage whispered and eyed the man next to her, "I got a photo of those shadow things-"

"Oh please Ms. Hart, enough of your nonsense." The man stepped forward; evening sunlight glinted off the camera hung around his neck. "Percy Prince," he grabbed Sora's sticky hand and shook it cordially; "I am a colleague of Claudia Stone." Sora discreetly wiped his hand on his slacks. "I've come here to find out the truth," he solemnly declared and adjusted a pair of designer spectacles perched over his nose. "Of course the media will have a field day with sensational stories like Ms. Hart's, but I say she was murdered by sinister forces at bay." He eyeballed Lotta disdainfully. "Are you here to investigate?"

"I... we-" The words jammed in Sora's throat.

"We got lost after visiting Organization XIII," Trucy chirped and pointed to the spindle shaped building half blocking the evening sun. "And we heard there was a gruesome murder so we came to check," she lied easily, the words pouring convincingly from her lips. "What did you say about paranormal stuff?" she prompted with a thoughtful frown and Percy flared.

He brought out a notebook. "The murderer was a young man with wild hair," he paused and peeked at Sora who flattened the uncombed hair on his head. "And I know this sounds absolutely nonsensical, but he held a weapon, something I've never seen before." Percy flipped through the pages of his journal and extracted photos buried in the middle. "I suppose he must be a weapons tester." He showed a photograph of Vanitas looming over the dead Claudia Stone, his face at the wall, the ebony and ruby Keyblade raised above his head.

The world seemed to slow and stop. No blood dripped on the teeth of the giant key and Sora blinked at Percy. The man wore a polo shirt with a striped tie and an animated flush rose in his waxy cheeks.

So this was him.

The man who doomed Vanitas.

"Claudia and I worked side by side." The words reached Sora through a veil of water, distorted and sluggish. "She was a top journalist of the magazine, Legacy and wrote fashion articles, I admired her work, however-"

Sora stepped backwards.

Back and back, till the damp wall pressed against him. He fumbled for his phone and fired a text to Apollo.

Please check the van.

Lotta, teeth grinding audibly due to the lack of an audience, pounced on Sora the moment he broke away; she brought out her own photograph and eagerly thrust it under his nose. "These were the shadows I was talkin' about." The glossy image showed obscure patches of darkness and weird glowing spots. "See, there," she pointed to a long, thin tendril, "these are shadows," Hart insisted. "You see a lot of them in this part of town; the scratches were made by their nails."

Shuddering, Sora scanned the photo again and Lotta eagerly provided more. A chill ran down his spine when one showed an indefinite humanoid creature, hunched twice over and nails scraping the ground. His stomach roiled unpleasantly and his phone vibrated several times as the journalist chattered his ear off. Imploring for a moment, he breathlessly read the incoming messages.

Found some things, Apollo texted.

A self-recommendation letter. A USB.

Confiscated them in the name of law.

For some reason, his senior found it appropriate to snap a selfie with the van.

It's getting late, I've got to take Trucy home or Mr. Wright will get mad.

The throne did not make for a comfortable bed and Vanitas massaged the cricks in his neck. Despite the nap, exhaustion hung on him like a weighted net and he yawned loudly. He felt like he missed a limb and mindlessly toed the rose pink carpet breaking the white monotony of the audience chamber.

He missed his brother's reassuring presence. Sora's meditative brooding at breakfast as he chased arguments in his head. The aroma of milk in the morning, or of pancakes quietly sizzling on a frying pan.

"I want to go home," he said to Riku. "Please," he added when the silver haired man ignored him. "I don't feel comfortable being away from Sora this long." He hesitated when Mickey, wrapped in a black coat, entered the chamber. "Did you know twins die when they are forcibly separated?" Vanitas' voice rose in pitch as he shouted.

The Grey Knight twitched, the ends of his blindfold flitted.

"I'm serious, I feel sick," Vanitas complained. His chest depressed under the weight of a boulder; his head swam. "If someone doesn't get me on a Gummi ship," he threatened, "I'll destroy something."

Mickey brought out a winking shard from the folds of his cloak. "No need to destroy anything," he said, "I'll personally take you home." Nox started. "It's fine, I think I'm at liberty to do whatever I want," the King reminded and Riku settled back into being stone. "I'll drop Vanitas off at home; Donald and Goofy will check in with the KBWA," he held out a hand to Vanitas who clasped it firmly. "Off we go."

The star shard glowed with a disconcertingly intense blue light and a crackle later, the two individuals disappeared, leaving the chamber reeking of ozone.

Home

Dusk

Land of Departure

A ruin.

The steps crumbled as he climbed. Scarlet sunlight played on bricks, the castle dissolved as he slowly walked to the entrance. Rotting double doors squeaked open on rusted hinges; a giant pillar lay behind him, broken in three and its grooves choked with ivy.

Roxas breathed in the familiar air; he strode through the hallway, once polished to a mirror sheen, now dusty. Threadbare flags fluttered on poles. White sand painted his fingertips as he touched the walls. A chunk of plaster broke off, clattering softly to the ground.

Here he sat for breakfast, there in the courtyard ringed by pines; he sweated and trained with a battered wooden sword. For a long time, he could not summon the Keyblade. The courtyard overlooked the rest of the world and he stood on a concrete stair and watched as time reduced his home into a ruin.

Someone shook him and he tipped over the edge, falling into darkness, into a pool of water and waking in his bed, the comforter tangled between his legs, his pajama shirt scrunched to his chest. He looked at Xion sitting in a corner of his room, the emotion of sadness in the curve of her lips.

What's wrong? He wanted to ask.

He knew what was wrong. Ever since the 358th day, their superior could not bear the sight of Xion.

A/N: Maya is well acquainted with the KBWA and the neon green drink is a potion. I don't know why I think of potions as tasting great, they are probably disgusting or something. I'll never forget Leon's description of a heartless as long as I live.

Read and review, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.