The World Of Destiny Island

A/N: Kingdom Hearts is the property of Square-Enix blah, blah blah...

Every Breath You Take is by and copyright The Police, from their album Synchronicity

Every Breath You Take

She fell through the trapdoor and hurtled down a smooth chute. The contents of both Kairi's and Frega's packs tumbled free, it was a loud mess that dropped out of the tunnel and into the community hall of the Loyal Order of Cactuars (which weren't really cactuars, they were more of a men's club for dwarves. Think "freemasons".)

"Look! Another one." A dwarf stood over Kairi and shook his head. "That's two in the same day. Call the healers!"

"Hi, I mean, Lali-ho!" she sat up and grabbed her head. She gave the dwarves a huge grin, the result from the kind of high one gets after catapulting from acceptance of one's demise up to the realization that there was some kind of mistake and today was just one in the limitless number of days to come.

"Eh? Oh, uh, Lali-ho?" they stared at her through their goggles.

"Wow, that was close. Would you fine gentlemen tell me: has a little elf been through here recently?"

The dwarves looked to each other before deciding which one would have to deal with her.

"There was a little hoity-toity fella in while ago. He's at the hospital. Broke both his legs on the way down," said one dwarf.

"That's terrible."

"Oh, that wasn't the worst part. He happened to drop in during the Grand Haboob's birthday party."

"Oh no! ... What the heck is a 'haboob?'"

"That's none of your business!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did he ruin the party?" she asked.

"I'll say! He... he fell on the cake..." said one dwarf in a wounded tone of voice. The lip trembled and a single tear squeezed out of his eye.

"Right as the stri– er, entertainer was coming out of the top," the other wrung his hands.

"He fell on a stripper?" she slapped her hand over her mouth and snickered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, hehehehe! W-was she hurt?"

"She was, er, holding a trident," the dwarf turned red.

"Yeah. Went right through his liver, so I heard– where are those healers?" She stopped laughing.

"Is he alright?"

"Miss, I don't know," the other dwarf said. "Ah, the healers! 'Bout time!"

A couple of dwarves wearing white over their chain mail bustled into the hall and asked Kairi a few questions before loading her onto their stretcher and taking her to the Sherwood Memorial Hospital.

The ambulance drove through the caverns of Luca, the dwarf city beneath Sherwood Forest. From what little she could see through the window it looked like the inside of the world's biggest termite mound. A large cavern with several layers of spiraling tracks carved out of the sides, and tunnels that led off to other places. There were many impressive fountains, impressive in that a few of them spewed magma. The roots of the great trees above hung down from the ceiling of the cavern like crepe paper and in many places there were holes where the sunlight streamed in. Kairi thought it was very pleasant, and it was nice to be warm again.

The dwarves wheeled her into the emergency room.

"Goodness gracious, another human?"

"It's that kind of week, I guess."

"Put her in with the other human– that should keep her calm."

A bright light was shone in her face and a handful of bearded faces peered over her while the healers waved a number of instruments at her.

So this is what it's like to be treated at a big hospital, she thought.

"Phew! I think this one needs a bath!" one of the healers said.

"Excuse me?" she said timidly. The healers ignored her and continued to talk over her.

"Open wide!"

Kairi opened her mouth and someone jabbed the back of her throat with something sharp. She gagged and choked while someone else whacked her in the knees.

"Feel its nose, I think that helps."

"Oh now you're just being funny."

"Well, looks like all we have are few bruises–"

"Nonsense! Blood work! I need a complete battery of tests!"

"Yessir!" several healers chorused.

After she was stripped, bathed, and bled nearly dry; the entire group wheeled her into a little room with two other patients. She saw a man in traction in the corner and in the other bed...

"Master! You're okay!" He sat up in bed with a red and white striped bucket in his lap full of deep-fried meat. The bucket had the words Cat-in-the-Box on the sideunder a cartoon of a kitty cat wearing a crown and giving the thumbs-up.

"Here! How did you get that?" one of the nurses scolded him. He stopped chewing on the thighbone in his mouth and snapped his fingers. The nurse blinked in confusion and then went back to tending to the man in traction.

"What happened to you?" Frega asked.

"Trapdoor."

"Ah. Yes. Good job. You didn't lose your onion, did you?"

"No, Master." The dwarves at the Cactuar Lodge meticulously gathered up the things that fell out of their packs and arranged them in a box. They even sent along a detailed list of the items– typical, fussy, little engineers that they were.

"My good dwarves," the healer in charge grabbed the lapels of his robes and stared off into the distance in a manner which she supposed was inspiring. "Today we've looked past racial differences to help a fellow being in need..." he blathered.

"Master, are you okay?" she asked. "I heard about the stripper." Frega grunted and just continued to eat.

"Excuse me, miss," the nurse turned to her. "We don't get many humans in this area, and we were wondering if perhaps you know this man?" She pointed to the man in traction. "He says his name is Fester."

Fester groaned in his sleep.

"Sorry, I don't know anyone named Fester," Kairi shook her head. "What happened to him?"

"He says he was thrown off the train by a, let's see, I think his words were: 'a disagreeable, swart little man.' And something about ninjas." She shook her head. "What we do know is that he was attacked by a monster in the woods. Poor thing's lucky to be alive."

The nurse bustled off to see to her other duties. Kairi's stomach rumbled, the smell of cooked meat made her forget everything else that had happened.

"Can I have some of that?" she held out a hand. Frega sucked on a thighbone and shook his head.

"You won't like it."

"It smells fantastic. Please?"

"But it's–"

"Don't tell me what it is, just give it to me," she said. He glowered at her tone. "Pretty please?" Frega shrugged and handed her a big piece of golden brown deliciousness.

Baralai opened the invitation and found a card with a black symbol for water engraved above a date, time, and address on one side. Three days from now, he thought, perhaps the train would be moving again before then. He flipped open the card and read the note from the 'bad people' his angel warned him about.

Hon. Mayor Unne,

Although we've never met before I have heard a great deal about your accomplishments on Destiny Island and have been a great admirer for years. When I'd heard that you were in our wonderful city and in hiding from the current regime I knew that "destiny," if you will, smiled on me at last.

"Oh, give me a break! Oily creep," he muttered.

I request the honor of your presence at my home for tea. I'd very much like to hear your take on a few administrative dilemmas that have cropped up recently– in fact, I would like to offer you a permanent position in my growing company! I will be happy to explain the details when we meet, but whatever your answer (please do not feel pressured!) it would be wonderful just to meet you and I'd like to extend every resource at my command to help you in your own dilemma.

Yours Sincerely,

Lord Vargas

"Ugh, spare me," Baralai crumpled the note and threw it down a storm drain.

Days passed as the train to Zanarkand remained in its berth at Mysidia Central Station, until an entire week had passed.

Goliath started to molt. The skin on his nose flaked and he spent a lot of time pushing his little body across the carpet to get his old skin off.

Myrna and Sus spent much of their time together, taking care of Goliath and doing whatever it is that women do when they're bored. Baralai could sense Myrna's impatience as days five and six passed, but she didn't say anything to him.

Baralai continued to scour the city, ducking patrols of heavily armed soldiers and slipping into hiding places to find just one free dragoon knight.

The only person he could find was the old woman who used to sweep out the Temple. He ran into her on fateful day seven, and she still proved to be as difficult to deal with.

"I remember you. Didn't they used to call you 'Raging Butterball?' You handsomed up nicely." She stared at him in that hungry way that used to make the trainees burst into tears of shame.

"... thanks."

"You're not the first one to come wandering around, I'll tell you what I told them: leave town. The only way outta Kefka's dungeon is in several bags, if you know what I mean. Someone sold you out I think. They knew where to find everybody in the city. Every secret spot, every hidden treasure, every squire and every layman." She leaned in, and the smell of cinnamon, peppermint oil and old person wafted from her. "And the Guards tend to take an interest in anyone with information on 'stragglers.' Know what I mean?"

She looked at him shrewdly and something about the look she gave him made his insides go cold.

"Info like that must be worth something to a guy like you."

"Alright, you don't have to tell me anything," he sighed. The old woman scowled. "Did the Governor ever say what he wanted?"

"Why should I tell anybody anything? I'm just an old woman what can barely make ends meet, nobody ever pays attention to me!" She whined and wheedled as though she suddenly lost her mind. He ignored the performance and stepped off of her porch into her home. She shut the door. Now he was alone with the hag.

"Was it the vault?" he asked.

"Partly," she said sullenly. His intuition told him this was what it was, he'd been worried about this all week. After all, it was the Antiquities Class that was pinpointed by the City Guard first.

"What exactly did he want?"

"Lots of things!" she snorted. "It's not like I saw what they took, or saw who they questioned, or who escaped with what treasure down what secret escape passage!" She turned around and with a smile she began to dust the little altar in her foyer. He did a double take when he saw the idol on the altar, but it shouldn't have surprised him.

"That's one of the Three Goddesses," he said.

"Maybe," she sneered. "You think I stole it? I bet you do."

"You know, it's your duty to give a full, honest report to Antiquities agents," he said. "Like me, for example."

"Well, sure," she cackled and pinched his cheek. "But not for nothing!"

He thought about the week's discoveries.

Bashan Greimeer, incarcerated; Martin Linkleer, dead; all three of the Kale brothers, missing...

And this disgusting old woman was the only one who could tell him things, whether their sacrifices had been in vain or if any remained.

I can't be the last of the Order of Antiquities, there were others out on assignment, right?

Or he could forget about all this, he had to take care of the Mayor and his hometown. Just go home and read about it in the news.

The problem with any Antiquities agent was that they were insatiably curious.

"What do you want?"

Nothing that had happened so far had depressed him as much as the meeting with the dirty old woman. He returned to Sus' place in a foul mood, his clothes out of place and in need of a shower. He almost had a breakdown when he discovered half his luggage missing.

"Hey Babe, what's wrong? You look like you've been in a fight," Sus trapped him up on the stairs between the attic and the kitchen.

"Sus, what did you do with all my stuff?" he asked, letting only the barest edge of his annoyance into his tone.

"Right in this basket!" she said proudly. "I washed everything, except what I threw out."

"Threw out?"

"I got you some new socks," she dug through the laundry basket. "And you were curiously low on underoos…. Oh, it looked like a moth got at your uniform, so I took it to the tailor's."

"The tailors? Sus, they'll alert the authorities–"

"Oh, relax," she shushed him and leaned in close. "I took it to the underground tailor," she whispered, "they do a lot of work for the resistance movement– which I'm a key figure in, I might add."

"Sus," he sighed. "I'm not interested in anything but the truth, and after what I did, I deserve it! Believe me."

"What? I am in the U.M.M." She kissed his cheek. "Now don't you worry about a thing, I'll take good care of you." And she bounded up the stairs to repack his things.

Myrna was sitting in the living room, her brow furrowed as she labored over a letter.

"Did you tell her she could go through my things?" he demanded, startling the Mayor so badly she dropped the pen and Goliath crawled under her chair to retrieve it for her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she rubbed the creases out of her forehead.

"Sus did the laundry," Baralai complained.

"Oh no, you poor man! A beautiful woman wants to wash your man-panties and feed you– call Amnesty International!" she said with as much sarcasm as she could inject into the statement. "She really means to treat you well, Baralai, now what's wrong with thisparticular woman?"

"I'm old enough to be her father!" His outrage found a new outlet in this brewing fight, and Myrna was clearly sick of being cooped up in the house.

"Excuses," Myrna snorted. "It's always something, isn't it? You never know a good thing when you have it and it's any excuse to run off into the sunset… No note… No call… grumble, grumble…"

"She had me arrested!"

This statement dragged her out of whatever other mental conversation she was having and she blinked.

"Arrested? Good Lord, why? What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"You make her sound unstable."

There you go, his look said.

"You're nuts," Myrna snorted and went back to her letter. But he couldn't let this fight end.

"What are you doing?" he asked. He could see her unsteady handwriting covered at least three sheets. Myrna had trouble writing in her own language, and her writing could be mistaken for a grade-schooler's first attempts at the alphabet.

"I'm writing a letter to the Governor," she said. "I've got nothing better to do while we wait for that damn train to move again, and I can see some areas in his rule that could use improvement."

"You're going to send the local dictator a letter of critique? What are you, stupid?"

"It's only a first draft," she shuffled the papers self-consciously. "And most likely I won't get the chance to send it, you know, since we're leaving soon." He craned his neck to read the letter.

"You put your name on the letter? Are you trying to get killed?"

"I am not a coward." She sat up and regarded him sternly. "Besides, he'll take a letter from a visiting Mayor more seriously than a letter from an anonymous armchair politician. He wouldn't even know where to begin to look for me anyway."

"Oh, wow, a Mayor from a town the size of a city block on an island nobody can find on a map without a couple of magnifying glasses. Very impressive."

"What in the world is your problem?" she asked, she was royally annoyed now. "Why are you trying to start an argument?"

"Hey," Sus said gently. She stepped into the room and sided with her man. "Why are you fighting?"

"She's just mad because her bastard husband finally escaped he clutches! We all saw it coming... and... uh..." Baralai said, and he regretted it just as soon as he said it. She looked as if she'd been punched. "I'm sorry," he apologized. Myrna's eyes narrowed and her fingers clenched.

"Really?" Sus said, she glanced at them both, not knowing what to say. "That's too bad. I'm sorry to hear that." Myrna just seemed to harden.

"Don't worry about it," she said, "these things happen. Ha ha."

"That was way out of line–" he began.

"I said: don't worry about," she clipped off each word. Sus elbowed him the stomach.

"Aren't you hungry? You want to go out to eat? Let's go out to eat! Now." Sus talked fast. She looked at the Mayor, whose attention seemed to be wandering off to the window already. "I could use some air."

He agreed. He needed to get out.

Sus was pretty quiet until they left her block.

"She's right, you badly need to get laid."

Most of his guilt suddenly evaporated.

"She said if I managed to land you, I'd be doing everyone in town a favor," she sighed. "I didn't think you were that bad, but then, wow! I mean, ouch!" The guilt came back.

They had a nice quiet dinner on the south side of the city. He would've classified it as a successful date if he wasn't with Sus. They wandered back to her place just at sunset, to an empty house.

"Okay, our options are… The Grinch That Stole The Nightmare Before Christmas? Sounds arty," Chappu read the listing above the box office.

"Pass!" everyone said.

"I'm going to tell you all right now, no R-rated films," Wakka said.

"We don't want to warp my fragile little mind!" Lilo said.

"American Beauty and the Beast?"

"I hate romantic comedies," Sus said.

"Nobody asked you– freeloader," Locke said.

"Like you contribute?"

"Guys, could you please not do that right now?' Zidane stepped in between them. "Hey! Kenneth Branaugh's Hamlet!" Zidane hopped up and down.

"Isn't that a four hour movie? I'm not sitting for four hours," Chappu objected.

"How about Piglets of the Caribbean?" Mog said.

"You don't want to make us homesick, do ya?"

"This one's animated, The Jungle Fever Book?" Wakka read.

"Uh, that's not a kids' movie," Locke said, both he and Sus shook their heads.

"That leaves… aw man!"

"Six adults and three children for Mulan Rouge," Wakka said to the ticket seller.

"Ooh! I love that movie," the teenage girl said and handed him his tickets. "It's so dreamy! So tragic!"

The popcorn and candy cost them way too much, according to Chappu, but they splurged anyway (it was for the benefit of their Captain's mental health and the overall morale of the crew, after all) and filed into the back row of the theater.

The film was well done and "pretty", but it wasn't easy to watch. Wakka could almost feel whatever manliness he possessed dying just a little bit every time the lead actor opened his mouth to sing. All the guys on his crew looked terribly uncomfortable, except for Zidane, who went through it with his usual unsinkable attitude.

"He's got a voice," Zidane said in awe.

"I don't know how the Huns fit in," Lilo said. Stitch concentrated on spitting unpopped kernels into the backs of the other theater-goer's heads.

Wakka felt close to insane by that point and got up to go to the bathroom.

After he washed his hands he combed his hair back into it's typical 'do, and struck a heroic pose in the mirror.

"All senior officers report to the bridge," he said to the mirror in his schmaltziest Captain Kirk voice.

He ran into Sus outside the bathroom.

"Can I talk to you?" She looked up at him through her thick eyelashes. He shrugged. He tried to keep his eyes from traveling down to the neckline of the too-tight shirt. "I never said thank you for getting us all out of that crazy place."

He tried to think of something cool to say, but she pressed closer. "You must be, what, twenty?"

"I'm seventeen."

"Wow. You're really mature," she smiled at him. "And you must be some kind of saint to watch all these children without losing your cool. Not once."

"They are my friends. Uh, except for my brother." He smiled, it was nice to be appreciated.

"Yeah. I guess…" she looked at her feet. "Anyway, about what you said before? I don't really have a family anywhere to go, and I'm getting a little tired of this part of the galaxy, so I was wondering: could I come with you? I'll pay you whatever I've got and you won't have to take me far," she pressed closer and fluttered her eyelashes. Wakka developed a sudden case of Delayed Reaction Syndrome.

"Sure," he said, he didn't know how long, after she asked. "The more... the merrier?"

Ahhh! I can't believe I just said that! Stupid! I'm so-o-o stupid!

"You mean it?" she bounced and hugged him around the chest. "Oh, you'll hardly know I'm around! Thank you! Thank you!" She kissed him on the cheek. Then a funny thing happened: the wind started to blow gently and angels sang.

She smiled at him and flounced back into the theater.

"Hey! Get offa me, ya freak!" he remembered someone saying to him.

"Oh. Sorry, wrong seat," he apologized.

"On drugs," the person grumbled as he stumbled around for his crew.

"Psst!" Locke whispered to him. "I got a message from Banon–"

"Shhh! Mulan is talking!" Zidane hissed at them and pointed at the screen. Wakka smiled dopily at him and gave him the 'okay' sign.

"What's with you? Didja hit your head when you fell in the toilet?" Chappu asked him.

Wakka rested his chin in his hand and stared at the screen, a dopey smile on his face.

"This movie is so romantic…" he said. Chappu stuck his tongue out.

The movie ended tragically, with the heroine conveniently dying before the relationship got stale. Wakka had trouble believing that that constituted the greatest kind of love story ever told, but he was probably missing some important point about it, as usual. The crew staggered from the theater into the normal light and all sighed with relief.

"Truly thou art more than mortal man," Locke said to Zidane, who hummed the end theme.

"Yep," Zidane buffed his fingernails on his lacy cravat.

"Uh-oh. Guys, it's them!" Lilo gasped and pointed into the crowd of people waiting to buy tickets for the evening show.

"What the hell is Christmas?" Cid asked.

"What's a Grinch?" Leon asked.

"Quit yer griping," Yuffie said. "A deal's a deal and you lost. Be good losers. Right Aerith?"

"I don't like slasher films," Aerith frowned. "Couldn't I just go to another theater?"

Yuffie looked at Seifer, expecting him to add his two cents, but he just jotted things into his notebook. Scribble, scribble, scribble, she thought. What's he writing in there? She made a mental note to swipe the notebook as soon as he fell asleep.

"Hey," Cid grabbed Leon's shoulder and pointed into the crowd leaving the theater. "Look over there!"

"That's the oldest, dumbest, trick in the book you guys," Yuffie said, but she turned to look anyway. Eight theater patrons stood rooted in place with frightened expressions on their faces.

Neither group moved for a second, until Aerith took it upon herself to yell: "Nobody move!" Several people in the crowd dove for floor and pulled out their hidden weapons to defend themselves from the supposed arrival of the Galaxy Police. Seifer fired a couple of shots in the air, everyone in the lobby hit the floor. People were either firing off random shots, running, tripping, or lying on the ground crying.

The children bolted.

"How'd they find us so fast?" Chappu gasped when the ducked into a dark hallway.

"Must be something on the ship they can track," Mog said.

"Banon called me, you guys," Locke said. "We have to get to the Returners, they can help us!"

"Nuh-uh," Chappu shot back. "We don't trust them! No organization does any good deed for free."

"You have to trust somebody," Locke looked at Wakka, who shook his head.

"You're not gonna get any help from me, I trust him. He's nobody's fool," he said. Chappu grinned. Locke opened his mouth to argue some more, but Sus elbowed him in the stomach.

"There they are!" she nodded towards the pursuers in the crowded mall.

"Everybody," Mog opened an unmarked door. "Get in here."

To Be Continued