The Black Saint

He dreamed of fluffy clouds raining glitter; color stuck to his eyebrows, dusted his hair and settled in star-shaped patterns on the courtroom floor. The judge loomed with a gavel the size of a skyscraper and a rainbow oozed from his sparkly beard.

A thump landed on his bed, the sharp tang of leather invaded his dream as Vanitas shook him roughly.

Sora woke to evil, turquoise eyeballs glaring at him from a giant key thing. He gawped at his twin brother, grinning widely, proudly, and back at the harbinger of doom Vanitas clutched lovingly like a kitten. The weapon, what else would it be? gleamed coal black and blood red and Sora threw off his down duvet and shrieked.

"What…what is that?" A dreadful fear gripped his heart and wrung the blood out of it. "Why do you have it?" he demanded, voice an ear shattering shrill.

Sprawled on the bed, Vanitas waved the weapon like a flag. "A Keyblade," he purred, "I summoned it yesterday after a whole evening of trying. "I'm awesome, admit it."

Eyes nearly out of their sockets, Sora gulped like a water starved fish. "A...a what?" his legs became jelly. "A Keyblade?" the word left his mouth in a strangled gasp. "Why do you have such a thing?" His voice took a low turn. "Get rid of it! Those KBWA people turned you into a freak!" He clutched his hair. "Seriously a Keyblade?" he moaned, "Keyblade wielders are a myth Vani! They are code words for terrorists, seriously, what is wrong with you?" Sora face planted on the bed and grunted in the pillow; the crown necklace landed on its edge, points digging into the hollow of his throat. "Please, I don't have the energy to deal with this so early in the morning."

The successful summoning of the Keyblade made Vanitas drunk with glee. "You aren't happy for me?" he asked timidly. His brother continued grumbling in the pillow and he let go of the weapon, it vanished in a puff of smoke. "I can finally clear all the heartless in the apartment without throwing things around," he buried his fingers in Sora's hair, attempting to soothe his high-strung twin.

"Look," Sora tumbled on his back, "I never approved when you pranced away to Military Academy right after we graduated high school." Vanitas nodded. "And I certainly did not like it when you joined the KBWA." Sora jerked upright. "Now, you barge into my room when the sun's barely risen," he pointed out the window where the first rays illuminated nothing but shadows, "and show me a gigantic evil key and tell me you birthed it."

Swallowing a laugh, Vanitas raised his palms. "I...I didn't give birth to it-"

"Shut up!" Sora hissed. Why can't I be this assertive in front of other people? His twin paled at the outburst. "...I'm sorry, I just," he toyed with the identical crown necklace around Vanitas' neck. "Don't ever pull that out in public and keep away from trouble, understand?" Sora stressed. "Better yet, quit the KBWA and find yourself a respectable, proper job while you're at it."

Vanitas muttered under his breath and Sora glowered at him. "Fine..." he conceded and lowered his eyes, hiding the hint of smile. "I promise I won't worry you. You'll be proud of me." His twin snorted disbelievingly. "By the way, what's for breakfast?"

Bleakly eyeing the kitchen, Sora rose from his bed. Sleep was never an option. "Pancakes," he slurred, "with loads and loads of syrup."

The day dawned to sunny skies and a better mood once Sora left the apartment. Breakfast ended as a somber affair as he drowned his pancakes in syrup and ignored his brother in favor of the news. Yesterday's trial ended on the front page of the paper and a flush of pride brought color to Sora's cheeks. Opting for a comfortable hood-jacket instead of his formal attire, he carefully wrapped a striped scarf around his neck and headed for the office. People bled onto the streets and skittish, he glued his eyes to the pavement and walked.

A punk purple motorcycle idled before the Wright and Co. Law offices and Sora desperately hoped the man straddling the bike was not the glamorously famous Klavier Gavin.

Pausing at an intersection, he looped behind the Multiplan and found the bike still sitting in front of the building; sighing, he retraced his steps and gaze firmly in front, inched to the agency. A pair of eyes drilled into him, Sora wilted under the appraising stare, shuffling slower and slower and hoping to melt into a puddle and become one with the pavement under his feet.

A modest crowd gathered on the opposite street and Klavier smiled for the lovely ladies as they snapped photos. Some came forward with a pen and asked for an autograph but he declined politely. Wright and Co.'s new attorney crawled along the sidewalk at a snail's pace and he smiled comfortingly. The lawyer disregarded him, preferring to count the weeds growing between the paving slab cracks.

Klavier waited. The timorous attorney broke into a panicked speed walk and as he crossed the motorcycle, Gavin called out, "Do you think Herr Forehead will be in?" he indicated a package on his bike.

Crashing to a halt and understandably confused, Sora asked, "err...who?"

"Herr Forehead," Gavin cheerfully informed and raised his sunglasses, "your senior attorney. The one with the wide forehead?" he grinned widely when Sora blushed in understanding. "You know who I'm referring to, ja?"

"Mr... Mr. Justice is usually here before me," Sora mumbled while a figure in red crossed the Multiplan lobby.

The building's doors whirred apart to admit Apollo on the street. "What do you want?" he directed his question at Klavier, "and stop harassing our new attorney, glimmerous fops like you scare him the most," he grumbled with long suffering patience.

Flashing another pleasing smile, Gavin unstrapped the package from his bike and handed it over. "I'm here for you little forehead," he teased, laughing when Apollo bristled like a hedgehog. "The evidence you requested only came through yesterday."

Nodding cordially to the two attorneys, he revved his bike and with a cheerful salute, zoomed away, leaving the air smelling of exhaust and expensive cologne. Loyal fans ran after him and screamed well wishes. Within moments of his departure, the crowd dispersed and the Multiplan front became quiet. Sora watched the bike for as long as he could, his stomach dropping at a missed opportunity.

His twin was a big fan of Klavier Gavin's songs and kicked himself for not getting an autograph.

07:30 a.m.

Wright and Co. Law offices

Athena's Office

Shades of yellow brightened the walls and when Sora entered the room, the sensation of being hugged by happiness resonated strongly. Cykes beamed at him from her desk and courteously pulled off her headphones, hanging them on a wire stand which contained more headphones; one of them sporting the Level 9, Organization XIII insignia.

Intrigued, Sora lifted the headphones, nearly dropping it when Trucy burst into the room for a loud greeting.

"Since you don't have any cases to work on today," she twirled to Athena's desk and disappeared behind the table, "help me with my magic show," Trucy said and a burst of classical music flooded the office. "Nope," she muttered and changed it to a pop music track. "Much better." She grinned lopsidedly. "I heard you met Prosecutor Gavin today, isn't he awesome? I'm a big fan of the Gavinners...oh, but they broke up because one of the members committed murder." Trucy's nonstop talking sent Sora's mind into overdrive. "Polly and I were on the case," she frowned solemnly, "the murderer was Detective Daryan Crescend, the second guitarist, he was really scary and putting pressure on Polly, but eventually, we pulled it off."

She paused for breath and Sora hung the headphone back on the stand. Oily fingerprints shone on the headset and he quickly wiped it clean.

"Things were difficult back then," Trucy mused as the track changed into a thumping rock. The music pounded against the walls and windows vibrated. "We don't talk about difficult things," she smiled brightly and tugged her glove. "So what will it be? Will you help me or not?"

While Sora tried to digest the onslaught of information and construct a coherent reply, Apollo burst in the office.

"Turn the music off!" he bellowed with an enraged scowl. "Trucy, you know how I feel about loud music!" He gripped a chair tightly with both hands, his knuckles white. "And Sora is supposed to help Athena today, you come with me, I need advice on a case..." he ranted while leaving.

Trucy grinned fondly. "Whoops, gotta take care of Polly," she trilled and skipped out the door.

A lemon yellow couch beneath the window tempted Sora to sleep but he resisted the urge and studied a large, modern art painting. Bold, colorful and abstract pieces hung on the wall in silver gilt frames and while he zoned on a piece depicting large and small spheres on a light blue background, the events of the morning played like a nonstop video in his mind.

"Did you have a rough morning?" Athena's question cut into his brooding.

A moment passed before he replied, "Did your necklace tell you that?"

Taken aback, she shook her head. "Not really, it's written all over your face."

At this, Sora's brow narrowed into a deeper frown and he internally struggled before his shoulders slumped. "It's... nothing," he eventually rasped.

"By the way, this isn't a necklace, it's Widget." Athena activated Widget and the necklace winked. "It's a Mood Matrix device which helps me analyze people's testimonies and their psychological profile." The holographic screen flashed with Sora's picture and a weird noise level. "It was developed overseas and you need a special glove to operate it." Cykes waved her three fingered glove and Sora felt stupid for thinking of it as a fashion accessory. "During testimonies, did you notice how some people act?" he nodded slowly, "some witnesses are good at hiding their emotions by projecting a calm facade, but the Mood Matrix picks up disturbances by the frequencies of their voices," she stated smugly and Widget winked once more before becoming dormant. "It's very handy in courtroom situations with obstinate witnesses."

Athena tapped the music player. A piano concerto twinkled through the office and she straightened, bumping the top of her head against the underside of the table.

"Ow," she rubbed her head, "I can't work properly without music," she complained and tightened the ribbon sliding out of her hair. "Now, I'd like you to help me organize my music library." Cykes pointed to a wooden cabinet haphazardly stacked with old fashioned records and CDs. "I've been meaning to clear it for a long time," she added with a lopsided smile, "some of these are limited edition," her sapphire blue eyes sparkled, "I spent a lot of money getting them."

The cabinet's glass doors opened and a stack of CD envelopes immediately toppled; catching them, Sora stacked them on the fluffy carpet and Athena examined each record before passing it on to him.

The envelopes went back in time, from muted, vintage colors to black and white. A lot of the music appeared obscure and an entire row of classical music lay on the carpet, neatly grouped according to violin, piano or a medley of different instruments. Athena's dress whispered as she worked, dusting the cabinet and cleaning the glass doors vigorously. On the carpet, Sora read the titles and the city's sounds filtered through the window and kept them company.

"What do you do in your spare time?" she questioned. Pulling the cloth mask down to her chin, she restacked the music on the clean shelves, carefully deliberating each record's place. "If you don't have pressing things to do at home, you can try staying at the office till late. Trucy often rehearses her magic shows and she'll want a volunteer," Athena grinned diabolically, "and when Mr. Wright takes out his keyboard, you're in for a réal treat."

Yeah right!

"Where is Mr. Wright now?" Sora asked. The office remained suspiciously quiet. "I hardly see him." he handed a stack of five CD envelopes to Athena. "I...I know he's busy..." Sora trailed off.

"We get a lot of clients." Athena closed the cabinet door with a satisfied huff. "Hmm," she tilted her head to better inspect her music library, "magnifique!" she clapped her hands delightedly and sagged. "Ach, now I have nothing to do but to go through my case files." She yawned exaggeratedly and sunlight glinted off a thick bracelet on her wrist. Crashing on the lemon yellow sofa, she leaned back and crossed her legs. "Mr. Wright screens our clients," she abruptly continued her explanation. "We are very good at our job you know," Athena gazed out the window and emotion flared in her irises, "so we are in high demand, however, Mr. Wright knows not all of our clients are innocent, so he checks for the ones who are really, really in trouble and accepts their cases. We don't do clients guilty of their crimes." A soft smile played on her lips. "I'm sure you know perfectly what I mean."

Sora flushed and lay on the floor, threading his fingers through the shaggy carpet. "Ever since high school, I wanted to help people who can't help themselves..." he mumbled. "It sounds ironic, I'm not comfortable..." The light fixture in the middle of the ceiling suddenly became the most interesting thing in the room. "I look up to Mr. Wright, Apollo and you too," he self-consciously pulled his scarf to cover his face, "it's difficult stepping into a courtroom."

"But you're doing great!" Athena insisted. She propped her legs on the sofa arm. "It takes time to face those prosecutors, the judge and everything standing in your way. You must trust your client," she advised, "if you believe in your client's innocence, it makes it easier to fight for them."

Client's innocence?

He thought of Kairi and her desperate hope when he visited her in the Detention center. His firm belief in her innocence pushed him to argue in court. Underneath this scarf, Sora smiled as Athena quickly drifted to sleep. He raised his head when she snored; the sun cast dappled shapes across her face.

The micro-planets continued to converge on each other. A giant, magical globe spun on its base of gears and showed Destiny Island's shores occupying a resident area of Los Angeles. The map rotated and displayed two other realms inching closer to each other. Olympus stopped moving, but it claimed a lion's share of the sky. During the evening, the sun set through the pagoda gates of Land of Dragons and each month, when KBWA technicians measured the orange outlines, they reported the gate growing in size.

One day, the worlds will collide and leave nothing but light and darkness in their wake; Zack sipped a cup of coffee, Mulan and Auron flanked him, concernedly gazing at the map while the giant globe cranked on its gears.

Rotating merrily on its axis, Castle Oblivion drifted from the bunching planets and dipped in a sea of darkness. Stoutly ignoring the bizarre orbits of the other micro-worlds, Disney Castle remained in the same place, diffusing light in vibrant waves.

"Engarde!" shouted Vanitas and rushed through the research laboratory, scattering irked scientists and fluttering pages.

Spinning, Zack blocked the initial strike with his Buster sword in a one hand grip. The force of the blow caused his coffee to spill over, scalding his soldier's uniform. Surprised, he dropped the cup, much to a technician's dismay, and steadied his sword with a two-hand grip.

"What have you got there Puppy?" he asked, eyes widening in amazement. His weapon met the teeth of a dark keyblade. "Oh..." Zack pushed back and swiftly brought his sword up to guard when Vanitas sprang back and unleashed a flurry of precise blows, "not bad." he lit a fireball in his palm and an older scientist perched on top of the stairs shrieked at him to stop.

The firaga sputtered and died.

"Are you proud of me?" Vanitas held his weapon aloft. "I summoned it last night," he trailed his fingers across the turquoise eyes and failed to keep the glee out of his voice.

Ruffling Vanitas' unruly hair, Fair enthusiastically nodded. "Very proud," he smirked when his pupil puffed. "This means I got two outstanding soldiers under my belt." He stepped back when an intense coil of darkness snapped off the rookie and wrapped around his wrist. "Does your keyblade have a name?"

"Void Gear," Vanitas replied without hesitation. "What's the motif above my head?" he impatiently questioned and craned his neck upwards, his golden irises narrowed at the domed roof of the laboratory. A constellation of glittering stars sprinkled across an ebony sky. The pale white dots pulsed, mimicking the action of real stars. "I can't see anything, Leon told me each Keyblade Warrior has a motif, encapsulating their...whatever, I didn't memorize his words."

The edges of the laboratory grew dark; smoke curled over Vanitas' boots and covered the base of the globe Map of the Universe. Warily, Auron drew his sword and Zack treaded carefully, waiting for a wave of heartless to assault them. To his growing concern, no lesser shadows popped up, but the light magic in the library crawled into a stagnant halt. He blinked at the corona of darkness framing Vanitas' head.

There was something obscenely holy about the halo resting above his pupil's peaks of raven hair. The young man irritably lowered his keyblade and waited for Fair to speak.

"You have a halo around your head." Zack laughed nervously when Vanitas frowned confusedly. "I think I'll crown you as the Black Saint," he continued. The name fit his student like a glove.

"I'm not a saint," Vanitas grouched, inwardly pleased by his title. Color flooded his pale cheeks. "So who's the King?" he inquired as Auron lowered his sword.

"We are searching for the King," the swordsman replied. "Young man, put your keyblade away, you are upsetting the laboratory's balance, also, Leon needs to be informed."

Startled out of his shock, Zack steered Vanitas to the teleportation circle. A thousand scenarios flashed through his head, not all of them pleasant. Records of such pure darkness never existed in history before and he worried for his apprentice, will this darkness drive him to insanity? Or will he stand as a new weight, helping to balance the forces of darkness and light and usher in an era of prosperity?

Teleporting from one point to the other still bothered Vanitas and without waiting for him to recover, Fair dragged the limp man across Basement floor 8's laminated flooring, to Squall's spacious office.

The KBWA leader regarded the thin threads of darkness crawling across the floor. He motioned to a chair and Vanitas flopped in one, a palm pressed to his mouth.

"He's a Keyblade wielder," Zack kept his voice breezy, "the Black Saint." He sat across Vanitas, near a high tech silk screen tapestry depicting a long forgotten Garden in hues of stone and alabaster.

"Saint?" Leon repeated.

"Black Saint," Zack corrected. "There is..." he scratched his head, "you'll understand when you see him." Addressing Vanitas, he added, "summon your-"

Void Gear materialized in a cocoon of jet black shadows before Zack finished his request. At once, the lights in Squall's office dimmed and the weapon's teeth glinted like blood covered rubies. A halo rested above Vanitas' head and he smirked like a benevolent angel of destruction.

"So...he's a saint." The boss crossed his arms as Jiminy scribbled in his diary. "This is odd, and I don't mean it in a bad way," he quickly placated when the rookie reared in his seat. "Does he have any murderous or self-destructive tendencies?" Leon unexpectedly demanded

It took a moment for Vanitas to process the question. "What?!" he hissed, offended, "hell no!"

"I did not ask you."

The tension in the air grew thick and heavy, choosing his words carefully, Fair responded, "He's overeager, but, he's not a bad kid, certainly not like... them."

"Who?" Vanitas' plea fell on deaf ears.

The air conditioned breeze stirred a row of plants at the base of a room divider. "We need to run tests on your Keyblade." The corner of Leon's mouth lifted in a half amused smile when Vanitas politely presented Void Gear to him. "It's a mandatory test we run on all weapons; see yourself in the research laboratory."

Vanitas understood more of his brother's daily struggles as he paced nervously back and forth.

His keyblade lay in a glass tube, fitted with scanners, a digital green laser shuttling back and forth the length of the weapon, and a bank of monitors and scopes spitting data on graph sheets. Bright light shone in the turquoise eyes, the beams sharpening into a needle-like thread and probing about. A metal arm scraped Void Gear's teeth and grains of black and red sand were sandwiched between two slides of glass and scrutinized by a technician.

While he waited for the weapon experts to draw a set of specifications, Vanitas wondered about games. A good horror title will set Sora back into an amiable mood and once content, they could discuss Keyblade wielders and Vanitas would convince his brother that magic and other worlds weren't as bad as people insinuated. He paused in his rapid pacing when Zack rustled a giant graph with a bunch of nonsensical lines and to keep his fidgety hands busy, Vanitas stalked to a row of books and rearranged them.

A bespectacled wearing scientist rushed past, her lab coat flapping. The table on which Void Gear lay, beeped and black smoke solidified into an opaque sheet. Setting the volumes at the edge of a glass shelf, he shuffled closer, stomach bubbling uneasily.

Jet black fluid leaked from the Keyblade and ran down the desk, it poured over the sterile tiles jigsawing the laboratory floor and seethed towards the door. The darkness rose and tapered to a point.

The double doors opened with a low grown and a skittish heartless wobbled in.

It opened its mouth in a silent scream as the darkness speared through its chest.

Holding his breath, Vanitas nervously glanced at Zack. "What happened?" he demanded, "I thought the KBWA building is free of heartless?" He gritted his teeth. "What's going on?"

"What indeed," Squall, joined by Lockhart and Jiminy, repeated and hovered over the keyblade.

Jiminy delicately hopped over the glass tube and recorded his own set of findings in his journal. As a rule, darkness beget darkness, hence the unexpected appearance of a shadow. However, Void Gear did not hesitate a split second to skewer the monster, it actively sought it out to destroy it; much like, the tiny historian turned to the brooding man watching the proceedings with a hawkish, flustered gaze, the owner itself.

Adjusting his top hat, Jiminy sprang back on Leon's shoulder and Tifa came close, to confer the results.

"It is strange," Cricket admitted and shut his leather-bound book. "I've never seen darkness like this, it behaves almost like... light," he whispered and Tifa leaned in to hear him. "King Mickey and Riku both use darkness, but theirs is tempered by light, this young man," the three scrutinized Vanitas from the corners of their eyes, "has a pure form of darkness much unlike anything we've ever encountered, I've read the reports depicting him as a brash, arrogant and abrasive young man, however-"

"Go to Disney Castle," Leon ordered, "and report the findings to his majesty." Jiminy tipped his top hat in acknowledgement. "With a bit of tweaking, he maybe the King we are seeking. I'll ask Zack to take the rookie on a heartless hunting mission; we need to observe how he does on the field."

Squall carefully placed Jiminy on the floor and the cricket sprang its way to the teleportation moogle, dodging legs, boots and a rolling flask.

Tifa's wine red eyes pulled to Vanitas carrying a set of research volumes and dazedly walking around the laboratory. "What do the tests say?" she asked and peered over Leon's shoulder. The man's fur lined hood made it difficult to read the results. "Anything too worrying?" Another shower of light cut across Void Gear and the printer churned a stack of paper with numbers and complicated graphs.

"…The Keyblade's chemical composition is peculiar," Leon replied and Fair joined them, trailing a spool of paper, "there are elements in the blade not found in Los Angeles."

Zack rolled the papers into a bundle. "The Puppy swears he spent his entire life here," he passed the roll of papers to a waiting technician, "I saw a photo of him as a child, he was choking the life out of a dragon toy," he smiled.

"Zack..." Tifa warned.

"I know," he laced his hands behind his head, "he was so cute, now look at him." Vanitas scowled at the three pairs of eyes boring the back of his head. "Trust me," Fair insisted, "he's not going to be like the others. The darkness won't corrupt him; I know it."

Checking Void Gear's specifics one last time, Leon tossed the papers to a desk as the five hour test finally drew to an end. "I hope so," he held Zack's gaze. "Remember what happens when darkness taints an individual, not everyone is as fortunate as the Grey Knight."

Squall waited for the tube's glass panels to retract before reaching inside for Void Gear, the Keyblade froze his palm and an unpleasant, sweetish tang filled his mouth. Like he swallowed copper. He balanced the weapon carefully in both hands before handing it to Vanitas. The rookie's face belied nothing.

"Congratulations," Leon droned, "we recognize you as a new Keyblade wielder," he paused to smile when Vanitas' customary smirk materialized on his face. "You will now be known as a Black Saint and you will live up to your title for as long as you associate with us."

The Keyblade exchanged hands.

"I promise to keep the general population safe from the heartless, nobodies and other creepy crap," Vanitas let his weapon go and it flashed out of existence. "...I'm gonna go hunt some heartless now," he crowed and marched to the doors.

Tifa and Leon looked at each other and sighed.

A scientist stuffed the Keyblade test results into a manila envelope and sealed it with a rune. Scarlet letters crawled across the envelope. Void Gear it read.

Top Secret. Authorized personnel only.

As a full-fledged Keyblade wielder, it irritated Vanitas when Zack tailed him like an overbearing parent.

His mentor sabotaged the mission selection and accepted the boring assignment of destroying a cluster of heartless in a commercial district situated in Los Angeles. Vanitas grudgingly ceased arguing once the taxi deposited them at a street corner and stared at Organization XIII's headquarters.

The spindle, chrome and glass building spanned a breathtaking twenty seven stories and a lattice of white metal gave it an aristocratic flair. Grinning teeth, he bustled out of the taxi as workers entered and exited the double height, glass doors.

"I take it you're happy?" Zack paid the driver, smirking when a fiery red haired man exited through the doors and Vanitas vibrated with excitement. "Who is he? Mind cluing me in?"

The young man spun on him, a chain attached to his jeans cutting across the air. "You don't know Axel?" he asked incredulously. "Where do you live? Under a rock?" Vanitas spat. "He designs Level 8 clothing," he subjected his mentor to a once over, "not like you would be interested, you only wear your uniform and a bunch of old man clothes," Vanitas sniffed. "My brother doesn't even wear the stuff you do."

"You have a brother?"

Axel strolled across the street while an entire crowd gathered to ogle him. Emerald green eyes safely hidden by a pair of reflective sunglasses, he perched on a bench opposite the headquarters and began his favorite hobby; people watching.

A spiky haired individual with glowing eyes snared his attention and Axel sketched a preliminary design for a new coat. He wondered if glowing stripes could be a thing. His head shot up when the spiky haired man entered the Organization building.

Resentment bubbling in his chest, Vanitas dully stepped into a side street and quested for stray heartless. He wanted to go inside the headquarters but Zack left him high and dry and went inside the building himself, citing work. Petulantly kicking a trash can over, he summoned his blade when the lid rolled away in an unnaturally loud clatter and revealed a trembling heartless hiding behind a bunch of garbage bags.

Without warning, Void Gear slashed and puff of darkness diffused in the dusky sky.

08:30 p.m.

Wright and Co. Lawyers agency

Lounge

Three midnight black boxes, stacked over each other, opened simultaneously to reveal the disgruntled form of Apollo. Stepping out, he stalked to the couch and dropped next to Phoenix as the modest audience clapped at Trucy's performance.

An array of colorful hoops littered the floor; a dove white handkerchief turned into a real dove as she pulled it out of a neon pink tube and the bird angrily pecked the window before Athena opened it and set the dove free. Sitting alone in a couch and face a mask of disbelief, Sora alternated between watching the clock and Trucy. He needed to go home but a small part of him wanted to stay. No one tried starting a conversation with him, which suited him fine, and they all discussed the impromptu magic show, cases and potential clients.

A bowl of Eldoon's noodles steamed on the small wooden coffee table, Wright slurped from a second, nearly empty bowl and unceremoniously dumped it on top of a folder. A red pattern gleamed on the bowl's porcelain surface.

Someone switched the television on and Sora took it as a cue to rise. He adjusted his scarf and broke into a grateful smile when Trucy offered to walk him half way.

He gathered his things from Apollo's office and returned to the lounge. Trucy opted to keep her gaudy, magic show costume and pestered her Daddy for a spoonful of noodles which judging from the scene, Mr. Wright reluctantly fed her. Sora glanced at the television while he waited, leaning against the door frame.

A commotion played on the old fashioned TV.

"We bring you news of a mystical murder occurring near the business mogul, Organization XIII's headquarters," the news anchor related dramatically and Sora perked. Did anything happen to Organization XIII? He hoped not. "A fashion magazine columnist was brutally murdered in a deserted alleyway and police suspect the young man found nearby. He..." The woman pressed the earphone tighter, while footage of the scene in question flashed into a window next to her. "Apparently he is waving a giant Key-weapon around. Forensics are rushing to the scene..."

The words faded as an icy sweat broke over Sora. On screen, the police handcuffed a young man and Sora's breath hitched. Those were Vanitas' pale wrists, bruised by the handcuffs. The news did not show the perpetrator's face but only his twin brother wore such tight jeans, chains and a black coat reaching his thighs.

Sora balled his fists, eyes glued to the television. No one noticed his discomfort. He breathed rapidly, darkness pecked his vision.

Vanitas...what did you do!

Memory

Noon

Keyblade Graveyard

A ring of neoshadows and floods menacingly advanced on him. Young Roxas uncertainly swung his keyblade at the monsters. He looked at his mentor for help, but the man laced his hands behind his back and stayed silent.

Dust filled his mouth, stung his eyes and rushed past the barren cliff faces. The sun beat his head in intense waves and thirst parched his throat into sandpaper. Roxas wanted to cry, but the heat dried his tears.

Keyblades stabbed the ground, their handles to the sky. One, two, ten, a hundred, he long stopped counting. Restless spirits stirred under his shoes, deep beneath the earth, and when he sat down and touched the crumbly soil, he thought he could hear them.

Roxas woke in his room, the air smelled of dust. He got up, his tousled hair reflecting from the mirror opposite his bed. A teardrop clung to his lashes and he grabbed the blanket to his chest when the door softly closed.

He stared at the door, his heart aching for reasons unknown.

A/N: Even after the warning, Vanitas manages to get himself arrested. I haven't played any of the 3DS games and I'm not familiar with Athena. But I liked her character image and decided to put her in, hopefully I didn't mess up her personality.

Anyway, please read and review. Discussions and questions are more than welcome.