Warning: This has not been beta'ed.

I think I piece of my soul got ripped out in the process of writing this. I put everything I had into it, which isn't a lot considering writing has gotten extremely difficult for me lately. And then I realized I have two weeks to finish this, so I kicked myself and began to write. So yeah, whatever.

For Fire because she's just plain impossible not to love and want to glomp. Did that sentence make sense? Oh whatever. You get my point. Please enjoy this story, Fire. I worked really, really hard on it.

The First of the Three Spirits

Cold beads of sweat rolled down his pale skin, glistening in late noon light as eyelids slowly slid apart, a small groan of drowsiness rumbling from Riku's chest. Bright light, something he wasn't used to seeing in the morning, burned his irises and made his pupils dilate. Groaning and grumbling profanities under his breath in a hushed whisper, Riku sat up, arching his back until he heard a satisfying crack and felt the tension in his back snap.

Feeling better after stretching for a bit, Riku rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with the back of his hand as he yawned, keeping his hands hooded over his face to block out the offending light. Riku's sleep wear, which was, in actuality, the same outfit he has worn yesterday, clung to his skin with a clammy dampness that was the result of his cold sweat. His blankets and sheets were wrapped in a constricting vice grip around his chest and legs, evidence to the restless night of sleep he had had.

After a few moments of futile attempts to free himself from his cotton prison, Riku gave up and collapsed back down on the stiff bed, letting his thoughts wonder on their own accord as he tried to make sense of them. Tiny flickers and tidbits of his nightmare came floating through his mind and played across the dark sanctuary behind closed eyelids, like an old picture film with their unrealistic realities.

"Hee hee, can't catch me, Riku!"

Riku sighed. His friend's voice echoed dully inside of his crowded mind, parting itself easily through the twists of a maze that was the silver-haired man's very confused thoughts.

"Sora, watch out!"

Not wishing to dwell further on his befuddled memories, Riku began to squirm, gently at first, feeling the blankets and sheets slowly sidle from their suffocating snare, no longer cutting off the blood circulation in Riku's legs. When they were loose enough, the man slowly slid up until a few inches of his chest was exposed, then another few, freeing his arms at long last. He then began the slow process of unwinding the blankets until finally he was able to draw himself off of the bed with ease.

Cursing his nightmares, and the one whom had caused them, Riku softly padded over to his window.

"No wonder it is so bright," Riku grumbled. He snatched at the curtains which, for some reason, were wide open, and drew them shut with a snap. The light was abruptly cut off, lingering for the briefest of moments in aqua eyes before being shut and locked firmly behind the door of deep red velvet.

But the room was not completely dark. It was a dull, indescribable color that had always made Sora twitch. To Sora, it always had to be bright or dark (although preferably the former), and the in-between was just a meaningless existence of darkness and light. Riku found no problem with it back then, but now, it was bringing forth unwanted memories that had been left unattended for too long, and were ready to come back out, as was exemplified in his nightmare.

"Someone, go get help!"

Letting his eyes clench shut, Riku sighed before rubbing at his right temple with middle finger and forefinger in a distracted manner. The dream had been so real... so chilling. It brought his childhood memories to a frothing boil in his heart and sometimes, when Riku was alone with nothing to distract himself with, it would all boil over in a thick stream of tears that wove cryptic words upon his cheeks, a benevolent promise that those memories would never become reality. Ever again.

"Sora, please! Sora, wake up! Don't leave me, please! SORA!"

Feeling the muscles in his chest to grow uncomfortably tight, Riku took a deep, calming breath. He relaxed the clenching of his eyelids in order to minimize the sting hot tears were making at the corners of his eyes. After a few moments, the silver-haired man opened his eyelids. But it wasn't because of the returning sensation of comfort and resolution, but the distant chime of the old clock tower on the center of Destiny Isle, which stood at the brink of a sandbar that only made itself present at early dawn.

"Quarter past twelve..." Riku murmured, remembering the familiar chimes that were forever sketched in his brain as permanent memoirs.

"For the next three nights, you shall be visited by three spirits..."

"Half past."

"Expect the first spirit tomorrow, when the old church bell chimes one."

"Quarter of."

"This is your last chance, Riku!"

"One."

Riku waited. He stood there tensely, brow furrowed, heart beat rising in his chest. He stood there, facing the curtained window, with the air of an impatient man. Finally, several moments later, Riku snorted. "Three spirits," he muttered. "Whatever."

"Hey! Don't you 'whatever' me!"

Riku froze. The air suddenly became quite thick, choking off the air that fought for passageway into his lungs. The voice, which sounded loud and somewhat distant, came from behind him. Riku waited, praying to any deities that the voice would not speak again.

"Hey, turn around when I'm talking to you! I don't have all day, ya know!"

His prayer was, most unfortunately, unrequited.

Taking a deep breath, Riku slowly spun on the spot to face the man with the most annoying voice. However, when he was fully turned and had raised his eyes to meet the intruders', his mouth fell slack as his jaw dropped a good few inches, eyes bugging from their sockets before he gave a startled cry and leapt backwards, back crashing into the wall.

There before him stood not a man, but what looked like an over-sized duck. It had eyes as bag as saucers, which were currently narrowed into a glare. His white-feathered wings were folded and leaning on his hips. A bare, orange webbed foot was tapping against the cold wooden floor impatiently, the other stationary to his right. On his torso he wore a white jacket with gold fastenings clipping it together, a gold chain dangling from the right breast pocket along with a daintily folded handkerchief. On his head was an elfish looking hat with thin strands of holly interlacing around the edges, golden lace intertwined with the fresh green pine. The tip of the hat drooped down to the left in a fashion that Riku found slightly annoying.

However, the crooked hat was the least of what Riku thought of as wrong at the moment.

"Who... who are you?" Riku stuttered, gulping nervously.

"I'm the Easter Bunny," the duck grumbled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, didn't you listen to a word Sora said?"

"Sora?" Riku blinked. "So... you're one of the spirits?"

The duck sighed. "Yup. Name's Donald." Clearing his throat and standing up straightly, looking quite proud, Donald said, "And I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past!"

"Long past?" inquired Riku, ever observant.

"No!" Donald snapped. "Your past! Honestly, I'm not here to give you a history report! I'm doing this on my own time for Sora!"

"Sora?" Riku muttered. "You... you know Sora?"

"Know him? Of course I do!" Donald quacked impatiently. "Me and Goofy are the only ones who can keep the poor kid company! We get to visit the Spirit Realm every now and then on account of business, so we see him when we can."

"Sora... sent you to me?"

"Of course!" Donald replied. "He really cares about you, Riku! And you aren't doing a very good job of repaying him." Riku had decency the to look ashamed of himself. Donald nodded approvingly. "All right, then. Let's get outta here!"

"Out of here?" Riku repeated apprehensively. "Why, Spirit? Where do you wish to take me?"

"Look, I've told you before, kid..." Riku twitched at being called a 'kid', "...my name's Donald, not Spirit. That's the name of a horse."

Before Riku could question about said horse, Donald snapped, "Now come on over here! I don't bite! We don't have much time!"

"You're a Spirit," Riku pointed out. "Can you not just create more time?"

"All right, let me rephrase that." Donald cleared his throat. "Riku, I have a life. And I don't need to be spending my whole Christmas Eve trying to save a seemingly hopeless soul. So if you don't mind, get over here!"

A bit hesitant at first, Riku slowly took a step forward. And then, realizing his own foolish fearfulness, he walked briskly over to the duck and crossed his arms over his chest. "I am ready."

"What, not afraid anymore?"

"I am not afraid," Riku protested calmly. "Now please, if you will... Donald... I too have business to attend to."

Donald rolled his eyes. "Ungrateful brat," he muttered before saying, loudly this time, "All right, just put your hand over my heart."

"Over your what?"

"My heart. The thing you seem to be lacking."

Glaring, Riku ignored the insult and placed his hand softly over the duck's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of a heart beating against his palm. The area was warm beneath Riku's cold hand, and seemed to pulsate with a life he had never thought possible. Until the pulse grew stronger and stronger, sending wave after wave of a tingling warmth up Riku's arm. And then... everything changed.

Riku blinked as he looked around. He could hear... seagulls. Yes, definitely seagulls. Their sharp cries filled his insides with a wonderful warmth. Something soft and salty blew in his face, and it seemed that pieces of the wall seemed to be deteriorating before his very eyes, blowing away in a gentle spray of sea mist and to be replaced with a bright blue sky and a beaming, yellow sun. Crystal blue waves lapped at the hardwood floor, leaving behind sugar-white sand and tiny fragments of sea shells, long-since dead clams buried beneath the sediment.

"I... I know this place..." Riku whispered in amazement. He slowly withdrew his hand and took a step back, feeling his feet sink a bit in the soft, warm sand. "This.. this is where I grew up as a boy," Riku reminisced, a small grin that felt almost foreign spreading across his lips. "This is Destiny Islands!"

"Well, one of them," Donald reminded him. Riku ignored him in favor of looking around. "It's just as I remember it! There's... there's the tree house! And the entrance to the secret place!"

Ignoring Donald's soft chuckled, Riku ran past him, towards the waterfall, seeing something that made his heart leap in his chest. "Axel!" Riku cried, remembering the shock of red hair anywhere. "And... and Larxene! And Zexion!"

"They can't hear you, Riku," a sad voice behind him said.

Spinning around to face Donald, Riku demanded, "Why not?"

"Because these are just the shadows of your past," Donald informed him. "They aren't real, Riku. These are just images created by your own mind."

Riku didn't bother replying. Instead, he just stared at them. Axel had a candy cane lodged between his teeth, and Larxene was laughing at something. Or, most likely, at someone. Zexion was leaving against a rock, the perfect image of calm indifference as he stared up at the sky.

"Why... why bring me here, Spi---Donald?"

Donald shrugged. "Dunno," he replied. "Is there something you'd like to see?"

Riku blinked. Anywhere? Riku didn't know where else to go. But his feet didn't seem to care, as they were already leading him away from the small group of friends.

"Hey... where are you going?" Donald inquired, waddling behind the silver-haired man as he continued to walk bricking to a small, rickety wooden staircase.

Riku climbed it cautiously, skipping the rotten stairs on old instinct. It led him up past a small wooden shack, where he remember practice weapons were stored, and onto a small sandy cliff.

The sand made no noise as Riku padded across it in almost a trance, eyes glued to the view in front of him. He heard Donald stop beside him, but he didn't bother to look down at him.

There, on the edge of the small cliff, was a tree. It almost looked like a over-large palm tree, only the trunk was bent over a full 90 degrees, forming a small bench on which to sit. It's leaves hung over the shallow sea, small fruits in the shape of starts hanging from green twigs. And sitting on the trunk was a small boy who appeared to be the age of ten, with short tresses of silver hair that ended just below his jaw line. His bright green eyes were transfixed on the great expanse of sea in front of him. His skin was as pale as a full moon and practically glowed under the suns rays, looking almost unhealthy. Full lips were drawn into a slight, sad frown, gaze sorrowful as he continued to stare.

"Why... why are you out here all by yourself?" Donald asked hesitantly, looking up in curiosity.

"I... I wasn't wanted at home," Riku whispered. "Sora was spending Christmas with his family... and I had no where else go to."

"Why not to home?"

Riku snorted derisively. "Home was the one place I wanted to avoid," Riku said softly. "I wasn't wanted there. My father did not care for me much... after my mother passed away."

"It must be hard, huh?"

Riku blinked, tearing his gaze away from his former self to look down at his feathery companion. "What?"

"To grow up like that," Donald elaborated. "To not be wanted anywhere... even during the holidays. Is this why you hate Christmas?"

Riku said nothing.

"Let's visit another Christmas, then."

Riku sighed, closing his eyes briefly to calm himself. He felt a slight vibration in the air, and when he opened them, he found himself looking at the same thing, only with several key differences. His former self looked to be a few years older now, the stairs were repaired now, and there were a few boats out on the horizon.

The younger Riku was leaning against the trunk of the tree now, arms crossed over his chest. His bare arms, unveiled by a sleeveless shirt, were starting to show some muscles, and his hair was slightly linger. His gaze was no longer mournful, but hard and stony as he just stared at the ground.

"Riku!" Both Riku's looked towards the stairs to see a red-headed girl come trotting up the stairs, her long sundress dancing merrily around her knees and sandals slapping between the sand and her feet. Her red hair brushed softly across her shoulders and fine purple eyes sparkled over rosy cheeks.

"Kairi...?" the younger Riku asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to bring you back home!" Kairi giggled. "Come on! Papa sent for you!"

"Why would he want to see me?" Riku scoffed, turning his head to glare at the sand at his side.

"No, Riku, he's changed! Honestly!" Kairi grinned. "While you've been staying at Sora's, Papa's changed! He spoke so sweetly to me last night before bed I wasn't even afraid to ask him if I could bring you home! And he said yes! He said I should come right away!"

Riku finally looked up, hope dancing in his green eyes. "Are you serious?" he murmured, astounded. "He really... he really wants me to come home?"

"That's what I just said, silly!" Kairi giggled. She rushed forward and wrapped her thin arms around him in a warm embrace. "He wants you to come back home, Riku! We can be a family again!"

Riku watched as the two young children embraced each other, laughing, before Kairi pulled away and grabbed onto Riku's wrist, pulling the laughing boy behind her as they raced for the stairs together. The older man smiled a bit at the two, who were still laughing, as they ran for the docks.

When Donald spoke, Riku wiped the smile from his face; he had forgotten that Donald was there. "I... heard about Kairi from Sora," Donald spoke sadly. "I heard that she died.. at a very young age."

"Too young a age," Riku said coldly.

"But not before she got married... and had children," Donald reminded him.

"She had one child," Riku corrected.

"And that one child is your nephew... Tidus."

Riku said nothing. He just stood there, staring blankly at the sea. He could here the faint sound of laughter in the background, mixed in with the cry of the seagulls and crashing of waves. It was soft and melodic, almost soothing Riku's cold heart.

The silver-haired man clamped his eyes shut, trying in vein to block out the noise. He couldn't go soft now. Not now. Not after all he had been through, after all of the time spent carefully constructing the walls that blocked out the flood of his past...

The scenery was beginning to change again. The burnt pastels of the sky gave way to dark blues and shining dots that freckled midnight's shield. Soft flakes of snow scattered themselves amongst the twists and curls of wintry breath, twirling around Riku and Donald in it's secluded flourishing for the briefest of moments before clearing away, leaving behind in it's place a log entryway.

"Here...?" Riku whispered quizzically. "Why here, Spirit?"

Donald sighed. "For the last time, it's 'Donald'! And don't you remember this place?"

"Of course I do," Riku said, snorting. "This is where I was apprenticed. Old Inkwell's place..."

"Then let's take a look, hm?" Donald suggested with a raised eyebrow. He smiled a bit in encouragement he couldn't express in his words and gestured wordlessly towards the door with a feathered wing. And hesitantly, very hesitantly, Riku stepped forward. Snowflakes blew through his body, filling him with a numbing cold that seemed perfectly unexplainable. Or perhaps the sense was heightened by his nerves?

Riku stepped through the wooden door.

The snowflakes stopped their blowing, darkness met it's end. A merry fire danced among ashes in the grate of the stove, joyous lights illuminating the large room with it's warmth and bright light. Faces, both young and old, spread with smiles, scattered around Riku, leaving the man in a dim unfeeling haze.

He blinked. Once. Twice. "Why did you bring me here?" he whispered. "There is nothing special about this particular Christmas..."

"Every Christmas is special!" Donald snapped. The duck had waddled in soon after his silver-haired charge. His voice didn't have as much bite to it, the rough edge thawed away by the warm merriment in the room, as he said, "And he," Donald pointed to the youth sitting in the corner, cheerfully conversing with a brunet boy, "seemed to think so, too."

But before the duck could finish his sentence, Riku had strolled over to the afore mentioned pair. He stopped shy of five feet, looking down at the two seated ones, eyes glazed over with sweet remembrance.

"C'mon, Riku, you've gotta stop working eventually!" Sora laughed, playfully shoving on his friends shoulder, bright blue eyes dancing with mischief. "It's Christmas Eve!"

"I know what day it is!" Riku chuckled, ignoring the brunet's playful banter as he continued to scratch away with his quill at the parchment that lay spread out on his lap. "Just a few more lines, and then I will be done!"

"Good!" Sora said, a mock glare on his boyish features, his age of sixteen years. "Then join in on the party!"

"I will, I will," Riku assured him. "But I will never finish if you keep on annoying me!"

"Hee hee!"

Something foreign tugged at the older man's lips, and it wasn't until he caught Donald smirking in triumph that he realized that the odd sensation he was feeling was a smile. He wiped it off by coughing a bit into his hand, withdrawing it only when he felt assured that his facial features were back under his control.

"So Sora worked with you too, huh?" Donald said casually, although the curiosity was evident in his words.

"Yeah," Riku snorted. "We both moved in here to work at the publishing shop..."

"And what happened?"

Riku shrugged.

The duck sighed in exasperation. "Okay, how about I just cut to the chase, since you obviously aren't gonna be helping me get there at any point in time..." Donald grumbled. "What happened to the kid, anyway?"

Riku was silent for a long moment, His eyes continued to watch the scenes play out before has very eyes, old memories he thought he'd kept locked tightly away slowly un-bolting their prisons and returning afresh in his bitter heart. He watched as his younger self finally finished his work, setting it down and laughing as Sora grabbed him by the arm and pulled him happily towards a gaggle of their friends by the door. All cupped warm mugs of hot apple cider in their palms, eyes brighter then the fire and voices lighter and more delicate then the ring of a fine bone china bell. Brightly colored suits and dresses, flashy pocket watches looped lazily from the pockets to show off to others.

It was all so warm... enticing...

But to Riku, it was absolutely suffocating.

"He... he passed away... a year ago..." Riku responded softly. The soft glow that was slowly began to envelope his heart was quickly swept away in a wave of icy tundra, like a candle in the wind. "There was...an accident."

Donald stared up with sad eyes, pity so strong it made Riku want to gag. But it felt like something was tugging at the weight that resided atop his heart, and the feeling lured him into continuation. "We were out in the snow... Sora started chucking snowballs. He always acted so childish." He gave a short, hollow chuckle at this. "One of his snowballs hit the hat right off of my head... and into the street. He ran to go and get it... but he didn't see it coming..."

"See what?" Donald asked quietly.

"The carriage heading straight towards him."

Neither said a word for a long time, both lost deep in contemplating thoughts. Riku watched as the two best friends walked side-by-side over the rickety table that was piled high with biscuits, cookies, and other baked good that the matron from the inn down the street had so graciously provided them with. Idle talk was exchanged as more people came up to talk with them, rich laughter echoing throughout the warm confines of the room.

"What happened after that...?" Donald asked gently, cautiously, as if he were afraid that the whole world would crumble around them if he spoke too fast.

"Nothing," Riku whispered. "He... died. And he left me here alone... I moved away from there, to a different island entirely. Tidus... he tried following me... I guess that's why he moved into the same town as me..." Riku gave a graceful shrug of his shoulders, but on the inside, he was burning. Heat rose within his chest, fisting into his heartstrings and yanking until they tore him to pieces. His eyes stung with a raw sensation, making him blink. He hung his head, ducking it to the side so that his silver hair feel in front of his face. He wouldn't let anyone, human or no, see him like this.

"Please... can I go home now?"

Donald paused, blinking up at him sadly. Riku caught this at the corner of his eye, but took no notice until he felt a cold trickling run down his body.

The warm, cozy room was slowly melting away around him, pooling at his feet before draining away and leaving a cold, desolate floor in it's wake. Curtains and drapes flopped from the ceiling and a bed anchored itself on the floor. Walls sprouted from the ground all around him and a rug blossomed in the middle of cherry-wood oak.

The furnace was empty save for cold coals that lay useless beneath the cast iron grates. The room tingled with a cold aura, draping over Riku in it's velvety thickness. As if by their own command, his legs moved him towards his stiff bed. His knees buckled slightly, allowing him to properly sit on the many quilts which, no matter the quantity, never brought him any means of warmth.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, could contend with the frigid ice surrounding his inner thoughts as memories added to the glacier in a frosty clip.

He felt the only warm presence in the warm, that of the Spirit of Christmas Past, beginning to dwindle away in a soft gust of icy air. Looking up through silver bangs, he saw the duck's outline grow fuzzy, the pearly whiteness of his feathers blurring until they began to wisp out of sight. But not before...

"Riku... Sora misses you, too..."

And then he was gone.

With a heavy sigh, Riku's shoulders slumped, back drooping until he lie on the hard mattress. He felt unconsciousness beginning to pull at the corners of his mind, and he let it embrace him in a dreamless sleep. But unfortunately, it was too late as Riku felt the hot, wet trail of a single tear smooth over his pale skin, dripping into silver hair as he quietly cried himself to sleep.

End

Such a long thing. Ugh. It'll take a miracle to get this story done by Christmas. But then again, what better time for miracles, eh?

Merry Christmas! Next update is tomorrow!