The Star Without A Name

by SiriuslyEmily

Strelitzia finds herself in a world of sea and sky, and tries to hold on to who she is as she watches over the people she left behind. Written before Re:Mind.

This was supposed to only be about 4-5k, and snowballed. I just have a lot of feelings about Strelitzia. If you like listening to music while reading, Are You With Me? by Stars is pretty much the theme song of this fic. Hope y'all enjoy!

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Strelitzia fell for a very long time.

Stars rushed by her, meteors and comets and entire galaxies rocketing past as she plummeted through the darkness without a sound. She didn't scream, because she had no voice, no body, nothing except the sensation of falling and the visions of stars, streaks of light in the darkness that pressed in from every direction, surrounding her, crushing her-

And then the streaks of light expanded, growing larger and larger until they were blinding, and she wanted to shut her eyes but had none to close. She kept falling, and then there were no longer stars all around except a brilliantly shining sun, and she was plunging through clouds, bright white against the deep blue of the sky. She dropped past them, slowing down a little, and the sea was below her, the clouds and the golden circle of the sun reflecting perfectly in its surface.

The water rushed up to meet her, and she braced herself for the impact, but it never came. Strelitzia came to a halt a few feet above the sea, floating in the air. She spun in a slow circle, adjusting to weightlessness that felt so strange after plummeting through space moments before, and looked around. The sea stretched as far as she could see, so far that its color blended with the sky. Its surface was unnaturally still, smoother than glass. Despite the sun, a star was reflected in the water beneath her—or was it a star? It pulsed and flickered in a rhythm that reminded her of a heartbeat. She gazed at it for a long moment before she was struck with the realization, without quite knowing how she knew it, that she was looking at her own reflection.

What—what's happening to me? Where am I? She lurched back, trying to escape the reflection, but it followed her, an unsteady shadow. She tried to remember what she had been doing, where she had been before she had fell. Hadn't she been with her Chirithy? They had been looking for someone…

"Chirithy? Chirithy!" she called out, and somehow she did have a voice here, even without a body. It rang out across the sea, out to the horizon.

"No one arrived here with you," said a quiet voice behind her. She spun to see another star, its light slightly dimmer than her own. Beyond it, the air glimmered, and Strelitzia realized that there were even more stars floating above the ocean, dozens, as far as she could see.

"Where—where is here? Please, I don't understand," Strelitzia said, struggling to keep her voice from shaking. "I was with Chirithy, and then…"

And then pain, and darkness, and her fall. She shuddered, flickering, and dropped a few inches closer to the water. The star ahead of her watched her silently for a moment, as if it needed time to think of the right words.

"This is the Final World," said the other star.

"The Final…World?"

"That's what I was told when I first arrived here. It's a place where hearts return to, when their bodies and souls perish."

"Hearts…? Do you mean that I'm-?" Strelitzia moved closer, and the star floated backwards, away from her. "Wait—please, don't go."

"You can choose to stay, if you have someone you are waiting for. They may find you here." The other star continued to float away, its voice growing fainter. "Or you can go on."

"On to where?"

"Nothingness. There is nothing after this world. Or so I was told. But very few hearts choose to stay here." The star moved further and further away, passing other stars, and though Strelitzia tried to follow, she could not tell which one had been speaking to her. Words drifted to her one more time, almost too quiet to hear. "It's your choice to make."

"Wait, please," Strelitzia said, but she came to a halt once more, bobbing gently above the water. "Please…"

The stars around her were silent. Though like her they had hardly any form beyond twinkling light, she felt that some of them were watching her, but none said a word. She dropped a little closer to the surface of the sea, mere inches above it, and tried to ignore her sudden urge to cry, even without a body with which to shed tears. Was this it? Was this all there was now, the sky and sea and these silent hearts, and nothing else? What about everyone else—Lauriam, and the Dandelions, and Elrena and the others in her Union? What about the friend she had never been able to speak to? She had wanted so badly to warn them of the coming war, wanted it with all of her heart. Now her heart was all she had, no body, hardly a voice.

A sob escaped her, and she drifted back, away from the other stars, skimming the water. The sun shone above her, a bright disc in the sky, but she couldn't feel its warmth, or taste the salt of the ocean, or smell the freshness of the air. She could feel nothing but her own sadness, filling up whatever was left of her being. She wished her Chirithy were here, or her friends, Lauriam. She wished she wasn't alone.

The water beneath her rippled, and then darkened. As she held back a sob, thinking of her brother, colors began to swirl through its surface, cutting through the blue and white of the reflected sky. Confused, she floated a few inches higher, and realized the colors were beginning to form into shapes. The water rippled again, and a splotch of pink and black suddenly cohered into a recognizable form—her brother, standing at the window of his room, looking out at the night sky.

Lauriam! She dropped as close to the surface as she could, though she couldn't quite touch it. The image twisted and reformed again, and she called to him out loud. "Lauriam—Lauriam!"

But he didn't turn, didn't give any sign at all that he could hear her voice. He only continued to look out the window, gazing in the direction of the clocktower that stood high over the rest of Daybreak Town. On the sill, beneath his hand, was a small green book. Strelitzia recognized it instantly: it was identical to the one Master Ava had given her just a few days before, when she had asked her to become a Union leader after the Keyblade War was through. Lauriam turned from the window, and as he did so the image of him began to fade, the surface of the water clearing once more.

"No—wait, wait!" Strelitzia called, but after a few moments there was nothing beneath her but the reflected blue of the sky. She floated slowly downward to skim the surface of the sea and stayed there, unmoving and silent, for a very long time.

Time passed, though Strelitzia was unsure how much. The sun never moved from its place in the sky, never drifted towards the horizon; there was no night in this world, no twilight or dawn. The clouds did move, the only sign that time really was continuing onward. No matter how far she floated across the surface of the sea, the horizon never solidified, the sea and the sky the only things visible in the light. She tried to make the ocean beneath her change color again, hoping to see her brother, or her Chirithy, or one of her friends, but beyond a few flashes of what she thought might have been parts of Daybreak Town, the water was mercilessly still and empty. There had to be some kind of trick to it, but she wasn't sure what.

Occasionally other stars arrived, plummeting from the sky to the sea, though it didn't happen often. Usually they fell alone, single stars landing among the ones already there, but once there was a huge shower of them, falling one after another towards the water. A few of them seemed distressed, almost in anguish, but when she tried to speak to them they moved away, erratic and flickering. After a while, it was impossible to tell which of the stars were new and which were not.

Sometimes she could see images on the surface beneath a star nearby, though she could never quite tell what they were showing. She worked up the courage to ask one of them how to make it happen, but they didn't seem to be able to put it into words. The star had merely bobbed in what she thought was a shrug, and floated away.

Strelitzia tried to keep her discouragement, and her loneliness, at bay. Keep trying, she thought to herself over and over. There's nothing else you can do. It was something Lauriam had said to her since they were very small, whenever she whispered her uncertainties and fears to him, holding tight to his sleeve. As she remembered the softness of his voice, the comfort of his hand on her shoulder, she felt a sensation within her—almost like a tugging, pulling her towards something. She followed the feeling, floating slowly along, and wondered why it seemed so familiar.

The water twisted. With a small gasp, she realized what the sensation reminded her of—Lauriam, his whole being, his very heart. Suddenly the water beneath her filled with color, and there he was again, her brother, sitting on one of the staircases that could be found all over Daybreak Town. On the step beside him was another familiar face, and Strelitzia gasped softly.

"Elrena!" She floated closer to the surface again, looking at her brother and friend. How did they know each other? Lauriam was in a different Union from them, and it wasn't common to have friends from other Unions. They were talking about something, and she couldn't quite hear their voices, but Strelitzia thought she could read her own name on his lips. "I'm here, I'm right here…"

They didn't hear her. Elrena shook her head, and her brother sighed, pushing himself to his feet. Before either of them could say anything else, Strelitzia's light flickered, and so did the image beneath her.

"No, wait!" she said, and she reached out without anything to reach with, concentrating on her brother. The picture steadied a moment, and she caught, almost too quiet to hear, the sound of his voice.

"…And then I realized it's been a while since I've seen her at all."

Strelitzia knew, without needing to hear anything else, that he was talking about her. His voice faded, and she couldn't hear how Elrena responded. Her light flickered again, and the image warped, rippling, and then it was gone.

She sighed, but could not help the hopefulness that had begun to spread through her. Lauriam was looking for her. Maybe Elrena would too. Strelitzia knew they hadn't spoken much—she had always been so nervous, worrying that perhaps she was bothering the other girl—but she liked her, and thought of her as a friend. She wasn't sure if Elrena felt the same way, but if Lauriam was asking about her, perhaps she would help him look.

Even if he was searching for her, though, how would he find her? There was no way to reach this world other than...perishing, and there was no way out of it beyond choosing nothingness. She shuddered. No, she didn't want him to destroy himself just to find her, she couldn't bear the thought. The other option was no good, either. She couldn't simply fade away, she couldn't leave without knowing what would happen to her brother and her friends. No, she would wait, and watch. She would stay here, where he would find her eventually, and she would keep reaching out to his heart when she could.

For a time, she rested, her light slowly increasing back to its normal glow. Periodically she thought of her brother, reaching out for his heart, and other people too—Elrena, and that special person she had admired so much but never gotten to speak to. Slowly, her ability to generate the visions of her brother improved, and she was even able to see flashes of Elrena and the friend she'd never been able to meet. After a time, she could hear clear sounds, and then entire conversations, before the images faded away.

Eventually, in bits and pieces, she was able to put together what had happened during her time in this world. The keyblade war had already happened, and it had been devastating. Strelitzia had the horrible feeling that she knew why all of those stars had fallen here together a few days—weeks? Months?—ago, and why they had seemed so distraught. To her relief, however, that special person she had been looking for with Chirithy was alive—she saw them speaking to Lauriam once, just for a moment, and she'd been so excited that she had lost the connection, the image fading almost immediately. It had taken even longer than normal for her focus to return.

Lauriam continued to look for her, and Strelitzia continued to look for him. He had indeed been made a Union leader, though he seemed less concerned with his duties than he would have been normally. She felt the tug of his heart often, and followed it when she could, though too many attempts left her drained and dimmed. Sometimes she didn't follow it at all, but rather reached out just enough to feel the warmth of his heart, and drifted along, basking in it, until the feeling faded. The sensation was so comfortable it felt almost like sleeping.

Elrena seemed to be looking too-Strelitzia often found her wandering alleyways in Daybreak Town with a determined expression, or surveying from rooftops with her Chirithy. It surprised Strelitzia, how hard she looked for her. Once, Elrena was surprisingly easy to reach for, and Strelitzia found her sitting at her secret spot, therooftop of little building that overlooked the Fountain Square. Elrena hugged her Chirithy close to her chest, and though she hid her face after a moment, it was not quick enough to hide her overbright eyes. Strelitzia wished she could comfort her.

Sometimes, though, if she looked too hard or for too long, her light would dim, and she would be forced to take a break, drifting quietly above the sea, waiting for her energy to replenish so she could search once again. One day, during such a break, Strelitzia realized it had been longer than usual since she had felt the tug of Lauriam's heart. She reached out instinctively, her glow brightening a little, but it dimmed again as she felt…nothing. There was nothing at all, no matter how far she reached. She went still, hanging in the air, and then she dropped to the water, an inch above the surface, concentrating on Lauriam as hard as she could.

The sea beneath her darkened, but only for an instant, fading back to blue. Lauriam, she thought, Lauriam—where are you?

The water darkened, and slowly, much slower than usual, an image formed, colors swirling out of the gloom until they settled at last into the picture of a long bridge, stretching out across a vast body of water towards a towering city. Lauriam stood a few feet from the entrance of the bridge, staring at the city across it with a slight frown. Something about his gaze unsettled Strelitzia. His blue eyes, usually focused and warm, seemed distant, nearly vacant.

"Young man?" a quiet voice spoke from behind him. He turned, and a woman with long hair and a kind face was standing beside a horse-drawn cart full of flowers of all sizes and colors. "Are you alright?"

Lauriam stared at her, much longer than he should have. "I don't know," he finally answered.

The woman drew a little closer, concerned. "Are you lost?"

"…I don't know," he repeated, quieter.

The woman reached for his shoulder, touching him gently. He barely reacted, looking vaguely at her hand before frowning in the direction of the city again. She looked in that direction for a moment too, and then asked, "Are you waiting for someone?"

"No, I'm…looking for…" He blinked, and brought a hand to his temple, frown deepening. "I don't…remember."

Strelitzia did not understand. What had happened to him? Why was he here in this unfamiliar world, one she had never seen before on any mission? He dropped his hand, and looked for a moment as if he would cry. The woman touched his cheek, making him look at her.

"Can you tell me your name?" she asked.

"…Lauriam," he said. Strelitzia didn't like how uncertain he sounded.

"Well, Lauriam," the woman said, "it's not safe for someone as young as you to stay out here so close to the forest all alone. Why don't you come with me into the city? My husband is a doctor. He can take a look at you, and once we know you're alright, maybe we can find whoever it is you're looking for." She smiled at him, grey eyes crinkling at the corners. "Would that be okay?"

"I…." Lauriam hesitated, and he closed his eyes for a moment, giving his head a slight shake. "I…yes. Yes. Thank you."

The woman nodded, and carefully guided him to her cart, placing one of his hands on the side of it. When she got the horses moving again, he followed along without a word, eyes almost vacant again.

Lauriam—wait… But the scene faded, and the water stilled. Strelitzia drifted without a sound, unable to process what she had seen. Had he…forgotten her? No. No, there was no way—he was her brother, there was no possible way he could forget.

But despite her conviction that Lauriam could not, would not, just forget about her, the next time she found him he showed no signs of recollection. He sat quietly on a bed in a small, bare room, and answered every question with a shake of the head or a murmured, "I don't know". Did he know anyone in this city, the capital of the kingdom of Corona? Had he lost his way travelling from another town? Did he have any family to return to? Question after question from the woman who found him and her dark-haired husband went unanswered, and eventually they exchanged a look and left him alone.

Her brother stayed where he was, staring at the window opposite the bed, for so long that the sunlight filtering through it faded away, replaced with shadow. When he finally curled up beneath the old but thick blue covers, he pulled them up to his chin and hid his face beneath a pillow. If it hadn't been for how his shoulders shook, he would've convinced anyone watching that he had fallen asleep.

Strelitzia let the picture fade, fatigue and sorrow making it too difficult to concentrate. What had happened to him when she wasn't watching? How could he have forgotten her when he had spent so much time looking? Where were Elrena and the other Dandelions? She had no more answers than Lauriam did.

The next time she found him he looked a little older—his hair was longer, nearly down to his shoulders. How much time had passed? Surely it couldn't have been that long, but in this world of endless sun it was impossible to tell. He was on his knees in the dirt, the kind-eyed woman from before kneeling beside him as they dropped seeds into fresh soil. The woman said something too quiet to hear, and Lauriam smiled, but his eyes were not quite as warm as Strelitzia remembered.

Beyond the low stone wall a few feet in front of them, a young woman with coppery hair was walking by, and Lauriam's gaze flickered to her. He paused, his smile fading slightly, as he watched her pass, not taking his eyes off her until she was out of sight. He lifted a hand as if to touch his head, but then gave himself a shake, and dusted the dirt from his knees as he got to his feet. The image faded, and Strelitzia was alone.

The clouds drifted, the sun shone, and she continued to watch, looking for him as often as she could without exhausting herself. She began to track the passage of time by how old he looked-his hair was growing longer, towards his shoulders, and his face was starting to lose the roundness of youth. Even his eyes were a changing, a little more distant, less kind. He seemed to keep to himself, working with the woman who had adopted him in her flower shop, avoiding company in favor of the garden behind the woman's house. He spent hours surrounded by amaryllis, hydrangeas, birds of paradise, and though he was ever polite to others, he did not seem to have any friends, no one to spend time with beyond the woman and her husband. She was happy that he was able to work with plants-he had always enjoyed them, filling his old room and then hers with blooms he had grown himself-but watching him sit alone, day after day, surrounded only by flowers made her ache for him.

His loneliness was a mirror of her own. She watched over him, but it was difficult knowing that he didn't remember her, that whatever she had missed while she was resting had robbed him of his recollection of his family and friends. Lauriam's hair grew past his broadening shoulders, and one day, as she watched him tie together a bouquet of roses, she realized she could no longer recall her own name. She thought and thought, letting the vision of her brother fade as she tried to remember the sound of it, how it felt when a friend called out to her, but the name was gone.

Before, when she had first arrived, she would have panicked, desperate to remember. Now, drifting beneath the ever-glowing sun, she felt only a deep weariness. Lauriam had forgotten her, and now she was nothing but a nameless star, watching him in silence from a world he couldn't see.

Lauriam grew older, and as the years passed he sometimes left for new places, smaller towns and cities with different varieties of plants and blooms, but he always returned to that city by the water with its towered castle and sunburst flags. It was beautiful, and almost familiar; she wondered if it reminded him of Day….day…? She couldn't remember that name, either. Something to do with the dawn…

When she found him next, Lauriam was walking along a forest path, hand resting on the rail of a cart filled with flowers and gardening equipment as a large horse pulled it steadily along. The sunlight shining in splotches through the leaves was faint, but Lauriam seemed unworried, looking over the contents of his cart with a rare small smile.

The cart lurched as the horse pulling it came to a sudden halt, stamping its hooves nervously into the dirt. Lauriam looked over at it, a frown replacing his smile, but before he could do anything to calm the horse, it let out a fearful, high-pitched whinny and shuffled a few feet forward, its panicked eyes rolling at the sight of something just off the path.

As Lauriam struggled to calm the horse, the star caught sight of a glint of yellow in the growing gloom. Twin discs flashed gold, and they grew until they were the size of a closed fist, and then a piece of the gloom detached itself, taking the form of a strange black creature with twitching antenna and huge glowing eyes.

She instantly recognized the creature for what it was despite her faded memory—how many Shadows had she and the others fought while gathering light? Something in Lauriam seemed to recognize it too, for he flung out his arm instinctively as if to summon his keyblade, but his hand closed upon empty air.

The Heartless flattened itself to the ground and rushed at him. The horse reared, dirt flying from beneath its hooves as it jostled the cart behind it. Flowers fell in bundles from the cart, petals scattering before being crushed into the earth beneath the rolling wheels. The Heartless leaped at the horse, and the frightened animal broke into a run. Lauriam spun, but he was too late to jump into the cart; instead he grabbed at the first thing he could lay his hands on—a long-handled scythe, its blade glinting.

No, thought the Star as she watched with growing dread, that won't work, you need your keyblade!

As the Heartless leapt again, the blade whistled through the air, slashing at the shadowy form. It sliced through with little resistance, and the Heartless dissipated, but even as it faded away, another pair of yellow eyes shone from the gloom at the edge of the path. The star called a warning, but it went unheard as another pair blinked into existence, and then another.

One of the Shadows scurried towards Lauriam, who only noticed when it was nearly upon him. He stepped back in alarm and swung the scythe again, but not quick enough—it clawed into his shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards. The scythe slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground, too far for him to reach, as he struggled with the Shadow. It slashed at him again, and he let out a pained yell as the Heartless's brethren swarmed towards him, sensing an easier target.

No-no! The Star drifted closer to the surface of the water, as close as she could. She could see the fear mounting in his eyes, and she wished with her whole being that she had a body to reach for him with, to protect him, but she could do nothing but watch as her brother was overtaken by the Shadows. He struggled as hard as he could, pushing them back desperately, but there were simply too many to keep them at bay. Now the terror in his eyes was all she could, see a mirror of her own, as he was enveloped in writhing darkness. From the depths of the shadows one of his hands reached desperately upwards, almost towards her, until it too was devoured.

The star screamed, in total agony, giving voice to the pain and horror that Lauriam could not—and then she couldn't feel anything at all. The pain vanished, the fear faded, and when her vision cleared at last, the surface of the water was clear once more.

N-no….

The Star frantically tried to call out for his heart, to follow the connection that had always been present in all of her time in this place, but there was nothing to follow, no thread to hold onto. She tried again, and again, repeating his name to herself over and over. Lauriam, Lauriam….please, you can't…!

But he was gone. The water remained still, reflecting her translucent light and, far above her, the ever-present sun. He wasn't merely too far to reach, or even dead, but gone from the world, his heart consumed by darkness. Death would have sent him here, she knew, and though she would have mourned the end of his life they could at least, at last, be together. Now, though, she was robbed even of that solace, of the knowledge that they might someday meet once more. She had felt alone before, but now the star had nothing at all.

She had no body with which to sob, no face for tears to drip down, but the star cried anyway as the loneliness flooded through her. Her brother had been her last connection to the world of the living, and now he was gone.

Some of the other stars watched, a few murmuring with pity in their voices. She barely noticed, drifting above the sea aimlessly. Her light was dimming, but she found she didn't care. Lauriam was gone, and there was nothing left to keep her here, no one to wait for. She thought of her brother, of how the last time she would ever see his face was when it was full of fear, and tried to recall his smile, the sound of his voice. If she was going to fade, then she wanted the last thing she thought of to be Lauriam happy, not scared and alone.

The surface of the water flickered, cleared, and flickered again.

Lauriam..?

A single ripple spread from a point beneath her, the blue darkening to almost black, before clearing.

Lauriam!

She called to him again, focusing on the image of her brother as hard as she could, and the water beneath her warped, rippling outward in a way that seemed almost unnatural, before finally showing the forest path once more.

Relief filled her as she dropped to the water's surface—but no, this wasn't the same forest. The light filtering through the trees was softer, more orange, and through the trees she thought she could see what looked like an old building. There was no sign of Lauriam, but that couldn't be right. If this was what she was seeing he had to be here, hadn't he?

There was a flash of yellow at the edge of the path. She thought it was more Heartless, until she realized that rather than a pair of eyes, it was only one, glinting through the darkness. Its owner stepped out of the shadow into the fading light on the path, his single eye roving back and forth above a craggy scar.

"Somewhere around here," he muttered, voice scratchy and low. He looked around, eye narrowing, until his gaze landed on something in the gloom. "Aha," he said, face splitting into a smile that held no joy, "there we go."

The Star was confused, until she too spotted what he was looking at—a shadow in the shape of a man, almost unnoticeable in the fading light. As she watched, the shadow grew, gaining mass and clarity until there on the path is her brother once more, face-down in the dirt with his hand stretched out in front of him. The star felt hope surge through her, tempered by lingering concern. He had definitely been consumed by darkness, so how was it Lauriam was here, wherever this was?

The stranger approached, and dropped into a crouch to get a better look. He looked down at her brother, unmoving, his expression not quite visible in the fading light. When he spoke again, it was almost too quiet to catch. "Been a while, huh?" But before the Star could feel more than another spark of confusion, the man reached brother's body and grabbed his shoulder.

"Up and at 'em," he said, louder now, as he gave Lauriam a shake. "C'mon, no rest for the wicked."

The star hung motionless in the air, too intent on her brother to even move. The man gave him another shake, and to her relief, a small noise issued from her brother-pained, but definitely his voice. His hand twitched, fingers dragging a few inches through the dirt.

The stranger patted his shoulder. "Morning," he said.

Lauriam lifted his head with great effort, and looked up at the man.

"Hey there. Name's Xigbar. You?"

Lauriam didn't answer. Xigbar held out a gloved hand, and Lauriam took it after a moment, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. He swayed unsteadily, and Xigbar caught him by the shoulder.

"Take it easy. I bet you're feeling pretty bad, huh?" He smiled, but it held no friendliness. "Losing your heart's pretty tough, but don't worry. We'll get you fixed up. You got a name?"

Again, Lauriam only looked at him, frowning. He looked down at his hands, and one drift to his chest.

"No name, huh? Well, it doesn't matter. You'll be getting a new one soon." He waved his hand, and with a whoosh of displaced air a portal of swirling shadow opened beside him. Lauriam stepped back warily, but Xigbar clapped him on the shoulder and ushered him forward. "Now, now. A little darkness won't hurt you now. Much, anyway. Let's get this show on the road."

Lauriam tried to resist, but swayed again, and Xigbar took him by both shoulders and guided him into the darkness. The star could not even call out to him before the image in the water rippled and swirled, and when the water stilled again there was nothing left to see, only the reflection of the sky.

Exhausted, the star floated without direction, staring not at the sea below her but up at the sun shining mercilessly above. Who was Xigbar, and why had he taken her brother into the darkness once more? Had he known Lauriam would be lying unconscious in this new world, alone and hurt? What had he meant when he said it had been a long time? The star couldn't remember seeing him before, but there was so much she couldn't remember now anyway.

Her weariness increased, and she let go of her questions, letting herself drift. If she had been able to sleep, she would have done so instantly. As it was, when she was finally feeling less tired, she found herself uncertain as to how much time had passed. Hours? Days? In this place it was always difficult to tell.

She reached out, trying to feel for any trace of her brother's heart. She felt nothing for so long that she was afraid she had lost it entirely. But he was alright, she had seen him—or at least, he was alive. She concentrated as hard as she could, her light burning brightly above the water—and there, there it was, that now-familiar tug of his heart.

She followed the feeling eagerly, and the sea beneath her darkened. It took a while for it to form into any coherent shape, but then with a sudden swirl there was Lauriam, dressed in a long black coat. He was standing in the center of a circle, surrounded by tall pillars—but no, they were chairs, with people in similar clothes looking down at him from above. She thought she could see the man with the eyepatch who had retrieved her brother from the twilit forest, smirking down with his arms crossed over his chest. From beside him, in the highest seat, a resonant voice echoed down to where her brother was standing.

"My friends," intoned a man with long silver hair, sitting in his chair as if it were a throne, "today we welcome a new comrade into our Organization. Marluxia, Number XI."

Marluxia...? The star didn't understand. Did he mean Lauriam? Her brother was looking up at the man with an almost blank expression, though there was a tightness about his eyes at the sound of the unfamiliar name. She was unable to see more of his reaction, however, before the scene faded away.

The star almost tried again, but even those few seconds had drained the strength she had recovered. At least he was alive. But those people in black….there was something about them that she didn't like. The man in the eyepatch, especially, worried her. She could not think of that mocking golden eye without shuddering.

Time passed. The star slowly regained the strength she had used up in looking for Lauriam so frequently, checking on him when she could. It was still difficult to locate him, at times. Perhaps it was because his heart had fallen to darkness? In the few conversations she was able to catch, she discovered that the others in black had endured similar experiences. Nobodies, they called themselves, beings that had lost their hearts but remained anyway, a half-way existence. The star wondered if she should consider herself the opposite—a heart, and nothing else.

Some of them claimed to feel nothing at all, though she didn't think that could be true, not completely. How could you feel nothing and still want to keep living? But Lauriam's own heart seemed so distant. She followed their connection whenever she could, faint as it was, though even that was rare. Patterns began to emerge, and she wondered if maybe it was easiest to find him when he was experiencing an emotion that even his lack of a heart could not dampen.

It sometimes happened when he spoke to the other Nobodies. There was a tall man with blonde hair and wide green eyes who always seemed irritated whenever Lauriam spoke to him, and the smile that appeared on Lauriam's face when he was around was anything but kind. The one with the eyepatch—Xigbar, the others called him—seemed to frustrate Lauriam too, but his mood was strangest around Xemnas, the leader of the group. They did not often speak, but he watched Lauriam with his cold golden eyes, and Lauriam always stared back, face impassive. The star wondered if anyone else could see his uneasiness.

The strongest tug of his heart occurred the day her brother met the newest addition to the group of Nobodies. When she reached for his heart, Lauriam was in the twilit woods again, accompanied by the tall and broad Nobody that she thought was called Lexaeus. She wasn't sure she had ever heard him speak, but he was talking now, questioning the young woman in front of them.

Oh! The star gasped quietly, floating closer to the surface of the water. She recognized the woman instantly, her light brightening with emotion. It was—was….

"My name? Like I'm gonna tell you," the woman said to Lexaeus. "Who are you? Where…am I?"

"This place is called Twilight Town," Lauriam said quietly. The woman glanced at him, frowning, and they shared a long look. The star waited, hope surging through her. Maybe now he would remember, remember everything he had lost…but he just continued to watch the woman, the only sign of emotion a slight narrowing of his eyes.

"Why am I here?" the woman asked, speaking directly to Lauriam.

"Those who have fallen to darkness but cling to life arrive here," he responded. "We were tasked with retrieving you."

"For who?"

"Organization XIII," Lexaeus said. "An order of Nobodies. Ones who have lost their hearts."

The woman's frown deepened, and she raised a hand to her chest. She looked between the two of them again, and said, "What do you want from me?"

"We can help," Lexaeus said. "Give you a purpose."

"A purpose?"

"We're working to restore our own hearts," he said. "But to do so, we need to fill out our ranks."

The woman stared at him, then looked back at Lauriam, who was still watching her with the slightest frown. "And you're part of this Organization too?"

"I am."

"What do you think about it?"

"…It's interesting." His tone was even, but there was a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"Interesting, huh?" The woman tilted her head. "You'd better not be lying."

"I would never," he said, and held out a hand to her. She considered it for a long moment, their eyes meeting again, and suddenly she smiled. It was much fiercer than the star remembered, but Lauriam smiled back, and the woman took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

The star tried to keep watching, but the image warped and faded. No, wait…! The water beneath her churned, but stilled once more, and she drifted a little higher, exhaustion starting to fill her again. Just a little more…

When the star found Lauriam again, he was talking to the new woman. Larxene, he kept calling her, the name of a Nobody. The star knew she had a different name before, one that hadn't been forced upon her by Xemnas, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't recall it. She could barely remember what Larxene had looked like before—her hair longer and hanging above her sharp green eyes that clashed with the bright blue of her jacket.

She and Lauriam still didn't seem to remember each other, though as time passed it become more and more common to see them together, and the star realized that it was getting a little easier to find him, a little less exhausting. The pull of his heart seemed strongest when Larxene was nearby. The star hoped that was a good sign. At least they were together, even if their memories of one another were still locked away.

Despite this, the star could not help her growing unease. It seemed like every time she found Lauriam again, he was a little colder, a little less like the Lauriam she remembered. He and Larxene sometimes left the grey castle for a white one, Castle Oblivion. It was strange place, with blank hallways that twisted the memory of those who ventured too far into its depths. A young girl with a white dress and sad eyes had been found there, another Nobody, and unlike the others she had no name at all until Xemnas gave it to her—Namine. Lauriam and Larxene, in quiet conversations away from all other ears, whispered to each other about her strange powers over the memories of someone they called 'the Hero,' and began to form a plan.

Lauriam sometimes wandered the halls of the new Castle, occasionally with Larxene but more often on his own. He seemed to be looking for something, and the star wondered if perhaps he still felt drawn to what he had lost, and hoped the odd white-walled halls would help recover the memories that had been locked away in his heart. When he wasn't exploring the castle, he spoke to Larxene and the other members who had followed them there of the Organization's plans. The star was not sure she understood what they were trying to do, but she did not like the way her brother smiled at Namine, sitting quietly in her corner with a sketchbook balanced in her lap as the others talked, avoiding his eyes. Lauriam's smile had been growing fainter and fainter, but Marluxia's lips curled with a hint of cruelty, and his eyes were sharp and cold.

The Hero they had been waiting for arrived, a young boy with two odd companions, and he carried a keyblade of his own. The star hadn't seen such a weapon in a very long time, and was curious how this boy had come across one, but as he progressed through the castle, her unease grew. Marluxia's companions each fell beneath the might of that keyblade, and as they did so, his smile grew.

Even when Larxene perished against the boy's will, Marluxia hardly reacted at all. He watched the fight from a higher floor through a strange orb that flickered with images from other halls, and as his friend faded away, Marluxia's eyes tightened for an instant before relaxing to their usual even mask, watching as the keyblade wielder continued onward to the next floor.

The star let the vision of him fade away, her unease turned to dismay. Marluxia looked like her brother, and sounded like her brother, but the way he acted was almost alien. She looked away from the sea towards the sky, hoping to see a streak of light falling downward until it formed into a new star, but there was no movement save for the lazy drift of the clouds.

The star tried not to let her disappointment overwhelm her. Larxene did not seem to remember the past any more than Lauriam had, and it was foolish to think that she might arrive here, looking for the girl the star used to be. She knew she should look for her brother again, but hesitated. She drifted along, far longer than she had intended, reluctant to reach out once again, and when she realized what she was doing she felt sick with herself. Her discomfort with Marluxia was strong, but she could not let it outweigh her concern for her brother. He was still Lauriam beneath it all-he just needed to recover his heart, and then he would be himself again, or at least he would no longer smile so cruelly.

Perhaps she had waited longer than she thought, or perhaps Sora was just that strong, but by the time she found her brother again, it was almost too late. They were battling, dealing blow after blow against one another, and all the while a horrible greyish specter loomed over them. Its face was hidden by a deep hood, but the star could not help but feel that it seemed strangely, distressingly familiar. She was so disconcerted by the specter that she almost missed the final blow, but she did not miss Marluxia's scream of pain, one that turned to a howl of rage as his body broke apart, piece after piece dissipating until it was nothing but a wisp of shadow, and then Marluxia was no more.

The nameless star let the image dissolve, the water clearing beneath her once more, and slowly revolved to look at the sky. It was horrible, watching her brother experience such pain, such anguish, but now….surely now he would be allowed to rest. Surely now his heart would find its way here, having nothing to hold it to the world of the living. Surely any moment now his star would land here, and she would call for him and he would know who she was, and they could be at each other's side at last, after so long apart. t's alright, she thought. He'll come. He'll find me. We'll be together soon.

But the sky remained as it was. There was no light falling through the clouds, no new star floating gently and uncertainly above the sea. The nameless star stared up into the sky, watching the relentless glow of the sun. Light shined above her and glistened below, other stars brightening and fading around her, but none seemed familiar to her. The star without a name waited, and waited, her own light starting to dim. Where was he? Would he have continued on without her, faded into the nothingness that awaited them all in the end? The mere thought tore at her. But no. No, he wouldn't leave her. He'd searched for her...

And then, finally, she felt it: his heart, stronger than it had been in a very long time. The water beneath her darkened, the reflected clouds swirling until they slowly resolved into a familiar scene: a forest, the forest, the one Lauriam had lost his heart in. She would have held her breath had she the body to do so, searching the scene almost frantically until she spotted him at last.

But the sight of him brought no relief. There he was, whole again, laying in the dirt path beneath the trees, even his clothes the same as they had been so long ago, but something was wrong. Dark wetness soaked through his shirt and vest, spreading slowly as his breath came in ragged gasps. The star drifted closer, crying out in alarm, as he pushed himself to his hands and knees. He dragged himself to the side of the path towards a tree, and tried to use it to pull himself to his feet. A choked noise escaped him, and he collapsed against the tree, leaving a dark stain on the bark as he sunk to his knees again. He leaned against it, closing his eyes, and went still.

No, oh no, the star murmured. She flitted back and forth above the surface of the water, concern mounting. You can't stop—you have to get up. The wetness staining his vest was spreading. If he stayed like this for long, Lauriam would die.

…But if he died, wouldn't she be able to see him again? Speak to him at last? Wouldn't she no longer be alone? The star stopped moving, staring at her brother. His shoulders were still rising and falling slightly, the only sign of his breathing. Get up, she said again, trying to push the horrible thrill of hope that sparked in her away. She wanted him with her, but not like this.

There was a strange sound—the sound of a dark corridor opening, the star realized. The gloom beyond the path intensified for a moment, swirling with shadow, and then a single yellow eye materialized from the darkness. Xigbar stepped out of the corridor with a smirk, and the star's worry turned to fear. Why was he here? How had he known where to find Lauriam? She trembled as she watched him approach her brother, who looked just as suspicious as she.

"You…." Lauriam rasped, and Xigbar paused for a moment, watching him closely.

"Me," he said, and he broke into a wide grin. "You look like hell."

"Xigbar…" He coughed, pressing his hand harder against the spreading wetness at his side. "What happened…to me?"

"Isn't it obvious? You got your heart back. Congrats." Xigbar stood over Lauriam, smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. "What, you're not happy? You're whole again."

Lauriam glared, but glanced down at himself, towards his chest. Even with his labored breathing, the slight thud of his heart was visible through his clothes.

"Shame about the whole keeping-your-injuries thing," Xigbar went on. "Y'know, your body still being the same one you had as a Nobody. Sora really did a number on you, huh? I know how that goes. Good thing I had the boss around to patch me up."

"Xemnas…?"

"Kinda." Xigbar shrugged. "Not really. Pretty complicated, honestly. Point is, I'm still here. I dunno if I'll be able to say the same for you, soon."

Lauriam sat up a little straighter, jaw clenched as he spoke through gritted teeth. "If you're here to kill me…just do it."

"Kill you? Man, you're more paranoid than Vexen. You're a traitor, sure, but killing you wouldn't do anyone any favors. Now, making a deal…that might help us both out."

Lauriam didn't answer. He only continued to glare, shoulders trembling slightly as he struggled to hold back another cough. Xigbar sighed exaggeratedly, then dropped down into a crouch beside him.

"Look," he said, "you're on your last legs. Few more minutes and I'll be talking to a corpse. No coming back from that one, no matter how strong your heart is. But."

"But….?"

"I could help you out. Keep you from dying. All you'd have to do is…well, you'd have to lose your heart again. Sorry, no way around that one. The old man needs vessels, and you're a pretty good candidate."

"Vessels?"

"Long story. I could tell you, but by the time I finish, well…" He shrugged. "Corpse. I know losing your heart again probably ain't much better, but your options are looking pretty thin on the ground. At least this way you'd be buying yourself some more time." Xigbar propped his chin up on his fist, smiling again. "But hey, your choice. If you wanna bleed out here, fine by me." The smile lingered, but his tone was almost serious. "I'll stay 'til you're gone."

"….I…." Lauriam's voice was faint—Xigbar had to lean in to hear—but the star without a name heard them as if he was right beside her. "I don't want…to die," he said. "I have….to find—"

He coughed again. Blood glistening at the corner of his mouth, and he did not finish the sentence. Xigbar surveyed him for a long moment, and held out a gloved hand.

Please, the star thought, please…. But she could not have said if she was asking for him to take the hand, or reject it.

Lauriam's eyes were glassy, half-lidded, but he slowly lifted his hand, still covered in his own blood, and grasped Xigbar's own. Another grin broke across Xigbar's craggy face, and he snapped his fingers. A Dusk materialized at his side, writhing strangely in midair, and Xigbar spoke to it with barely a glance, still watching Lauriam. "Tell the boss he accepts."

The Dusk twisted and disappeared once more as Xigbar reached into his pocket to retrieve a green bottle. He held it out to Lauriam, who gave him a suspicious look, but took it with shaking hands. The cork of the bottle proved troublesome—he seemed to be having difficulty even keeping a grip on the glass.

Xigbar caught the bottle and steadied it, uncorking it easily before bringing it closer to Lauriam's mouth. Lauriam's eyes narrowed further, but was it from caution, or because he was finding it hard to see? Xigbar tipped the potion, and Lauriam drank, closing his eyes. He drained the bottle quickly, almost immediately regaining a little color in his cheeks, and when Xigbar took his hand away the bottle remained steady in Lauriam's hand.

"There. Should keep you breathing a bit longer," Xigbar said. Lauriam didn't answer, taking slow and steady breaths, but he continued to stare at Xigbar, almost glaring. Xigbar only laughed. "Hey, now," he said, "is that any way to look at the guy who saved your life?"

Lauriam didn't have time to answer. Another dark corridor opened just a few feet away, and the star's fear redoubled at the sight of the man who stepped out: Xemnas, as imposing as ever. Just behind him came another man, one the star did not recognize, though he had more than a little resemblance to Xemnas with his gold eyes and silver hair. Xigbar got to his feet, nodding at the pair, but Lauriam remained on the ground, still too weak to stand. His glare shifted from Xigbar to Xemnas, flickering from anger and suspicion to confusion as it shifted again to the younger stranger.

"Marluxia," Xemnas said, his voice as slow and deep. "I'm pleased you've accepted our offer of a second chance. I'm sure you won't disappoint us again."

"Not like he'll have much of a choice," Xigbar said, smirking.

"No." The stranger stepped closer to Lauriam, surveying him coldly. "He made his choice." He held out his hand, and a keyblade materialized in his closed fist. The star gasped at the sight of it, and Lauriam's eyes widened as he stared into the strange green eye set into the end of the blade. The stranger spoke directly to Lauriam now, still watching him with a chilling intensity. "Your body," he said, "in exchange for your continued existence."

Lauriam wasn't shaking, but fear was visible in his eyes as he looked from the keyblade to the stranger, and then to Xemnas and Xigbar, both of them watching the scene.

"There is no need for fear," Xemnas intoned. "It will fade, along with your pain. The shackles of emotion, of your heart, will dissolve, replaced by the comfort of nothingness."

"Replaced," the stranger corrected him, raising his keyblade high into the air, "by me."

He brought the weapon down, burying the blade into Lauriam's chest. Both Lauriam and the star could do no more than gasp before the stranger tore the keyblade from his ribs, and a crystalline heart drifted upward into the air. It dissipated, and as it did so, the image in the water beneath the star faded too, rippling outward until the surface was clear once more.

No—no, no! The star frantically tried to retrace the connection, concentrating on her brother with all of her strength, but the waters remained still and empty. She shuddered, her light flickering as she drifted along, skimming the surface of the sea. It was fine—it was fine, she had been able to find him before, when he was engulfed by the darkness. She could find him again.

But what if she couldn't? They had said his heart would be replaced—that he would become a vessel for someone else. Would she be able to connect to the remnants of his heart, if someone else had replaced them? The star's light flickered again, but she floated a little higher above the water. I just have to keep trying. There's nothing else I can do.

Time passed. The star hoped it was only her worry that made it seem to stretch as she waited to feel the familiar tug of Lauriam's heart. She clung to her memories of him, trying to recall them as best as she could in the hopes that it would help her locate him quickly: the two of them sitting on the edge of a fountain together in the misty dawn of a town by the sea, laughing and chatting; a much earlier memory of watching the stars from the window of an almost-forgotten house, streaks of light flashing through the sky as they watched in hushed awe; the last conversation they had ever had, with her finally agreeing to join the….the…but the word was gone, just like her name. She knew it was important, whatever he had asked her to join-he had seemed openly worried, unusual for him, and so relieved when she agreed at last. She remembered his smile, and the way he had patted her head, something he hadn't done since they were much younger.

The star focused on that memory most of all, the last smile they had shared, until at last she felt the pull of his heart. It felt strange, though, almost distorted, like an echo from the depths of a cave. She followed it, reaching for the last traces of her brother's heart, and the water beneath her light shimmered and warped. It seemed to take longer to form a picture than ever before—or perhaps that was just her worry—but finally the image cleared and she saw Lauriam at last.

He was back in that long black coat, in a dusty wasteland composed of pillars and plateaus of cracked brown rock. He was balanced atop one of the pillars, and as he turned to speak to someone standing atop another nearby, the star realized with a jolt that his eyes were golden, the same shade as Xemnas and Xigbar's.

The scene rippled, and then suddenly it was gone. No—wait! The star tried again, reaching outward, and after a time the water swirled and a new scene appeared. Lauriam was standing at the edge of a vast lake in the shadow of a tree, looking across the water at a long bridge leading into a city with sunburst flags flying from its gates. The star brightened—he was home! Or at least, he was back in Corona, back where he had last been whole, if not quite happy. But his eyes were still golden, and they narrowed as he watched a couple make their way across the bridge.

It took the star a moment recognize them: the florist and her doctor husband, the two who had looked after Lauriam when he had appeared in this world so long ago. Go to them, she whispered. Go, they'll still know you.

Lauriam stayed in the shadows, watching the two until they entered the gates to the city and walked out of sight. He sighed quietly, and then raised a hand. Swirling darkness materialized at his side, though he did not enter it immediately. He gazed at the city for a few moments more, and for an instant the star thought he would leave the portal and make for the bridge, but then he turned and disappeared into the darkness without a backward glance.

The faint tug of her brother's heart disappeared. The star let out a sigh of her own as the water beneath her stilled, clear once more. I'm sure they would have been happy to see him, she thought to herself. She wondered if perhaps he was too scared to approach them, let them see how much he had changed.

It wasn't long before the star was able to find him again, though the connection was faint at best, still oddly distorted. She could feel her strength draining away a little at a time as she reached for his heart, but at last she could see him in the water below. He was back atop a stone pillar, looking out at the wasteland beneath him, his expression unreadable. He spoke, and to her discomfort, she could not quite hear what he said—his voice was just slightly too faint to make out.

Her confusion was quickly replaced with excitement, however, as the star realized who he was speaking to. Larxene was standing atop the pillar beside his own, and the two shared a smile. They continued to talk, but Larxene's voice was also difficult to hear. The star watched them talk to each other for a few moments more before suddenly her light dimmed. The water below her rippled as if a stone had suddenly dropped into it, and her brother and friend were gone.

The star drifted in a woozy circle, suddenly exhausted. It's alright…it's alright. She had probably tried too hard to find him too quickly, that was all. It had been difficult when he lost his heart the first time, too. There was no reason to worry. He was back with Larxene—he wasn't alone. It was a relief to know they were together again, at least, though she didn't like the way their eyes matched in twin shades of yellow.

Time passed. She did not feel the tug of Lauriam's heart at all, though she did reach cautiously outward periodically, feeling for any sign of him that she could latch onto. Her strength was slow to return, and she tried not to worry as she drifted beneath the unchanging sky, though she could not hold back a growing sense of unease. The sun shone in the blue, its light never dimming as her own did. The stars around her drifted past without a word, and she did not speak to them either. She was too tired to do anything but watch the sun's reflection beneath her, not knowing how long she drifted, and not quite caring.

But perhaps the sky wasn't so unchanging after all. A streak of movement, of light, caught her eye, arcing out from the edge of the sun, and by the time she realized it was a shooting star falling towards the sea, it was only a few hundred feet above her head, and dropping fast. Just before it hit the surface, the new star slowed, and came to rest a few feet above the water, bobbing slightly in midair.

The new star was only a few feet away, and the star without a name watched as its light pulsed slowly like a heartbeat before brightening intensely. The new star floated in a small circle, moving back and forth in a way that reminded the nameless star of shaking their head groggily. She remembered how she had felt when she had first landed here, confused and scared. Almost without intending too, she drifted a little closer to the new star, and spoke aloud her first words in a very long time.

"Hello," said the star without a name.

"Oh—hello…" The new star's voice was soft and hesitant. "Where…am I?"

"This is the Final World," said the star without a name, repeating the words that had been said to her what felt like centuries before. "Where hearts return to, when their bodies and souls perish."

"Perish?" The new star shuddered, its light flickering. "I remember…a terrible darkness, but—Kairi..."

The new star fell silent, and did not continue. Something about their voice seemed familiar, but the nameless star couldn't place it. "…You can wait here for the people you left behind," she said eventually, to fill the silence. "Or you can go on."

"On?"

"There is nothing after this. But even so, most do not choose to linger here."

The new star was silent for a long moment. Something about the way it was floating, deliberately stationary, gave off the impression that it was listening for something. "Oh," they said, sounding surprised, and their light flared for a moment before steadying. When they spoke again, they sounded far less uncertain. "I'll wait. She's still fighting."

"That is your choice."

The star without a name drifted away, and the new star didn't follow. She was grateful for this; though she felt sympathy for the newcomer's confusion, it was strange to talk with someone after so long. And besides, she was too worried to help this new star, not when her dread kept threatening to overwhelm her.

She reached outward, her light brightening as she prepared to look for Lauriam again, but before she could, another streak of light shot through the sky, plunging downward in an arc. As it fell, the star wondered at its size—it seemed much bigger than any other star she had seen fall before.

The light slowed, and its shape became recognizable the closer it drew. It was a person, not a star or a ball of light but an actual person. The person—a boy—came to a halt, floating slowly above the water. After a moment, he moved, making a quiet sound, and then sat up, looking around. His form was translucent, the sky and sea visible through his skin and clothes, but he did not flicker or pulse like the stars.

The boy moved—walked, he was walking, with legs of his own, tenuous as they were. His steps were uncertain, ripples spreading from his footfalls as he wandered. The star without a name could almost feel the curiosity from the other hearts around her, though none spoke to the boy as he passed.

As she watched, wondering vaguely if she had seen this boy before, yet another light fell from the sky, but this one floated in erratic zig-zags to the surface of the water rather than falling straight down. When it landed, the light expanded until it took shape: a small cat-like creature with a little cape. At the sight of the creature, the nameless star flared, an ancient memory stirring within her. She was too far away to hear what it was saying to the boy, but she knew that creature, she did. It was Chi…Chir….

The name did not come to her, but she could feel how important it was that she remember. She drifted closer without thinking, reaching inward for the memories that had faded to almost nothing in her heart. There had been…a warehouse, a figure in the darkness, and this creature in her arms. The weight of it felt almost real, though it had surely been years since the star had had limbs to hold something with. If she could just remember the name…

Movement snapped her out of her reverie, and she looked up. The cat creature was gone, and the boy was on the move again, chasing after strange after-images of himself that flickered in and out of existence. She watched him run back and forth, trying to banish her disappointment. Something about him was so familiar, and the star wondered if she had seen him before. With Lauriam, she thought, not so long ago…in that castle with white walls, maybe, where Lauriam had been so cold and cruel.

Her distress began to rise, and she pushed that memory away, turning from the sight of the boy—but then there he was, suddenly right in front of her, looking in her direction with a curious expression. He tilted his head as he considered her, and he seemed to have more definition to his form now, just a little. His eyes were nearly the same color as the sky.

"Hello?" said the boy, leaning toward her.

"…Good day," she responded, rather surprised. It really was the boy from that strange castle—a little older, perhaps, but she recognized him anyway. What had been his name…? Sora, she thought, though she wasn't certain. He had been the one who destroyed Larxene and Marluxia.

As she pondered, the boy's shoulders dropped in relief. "Oh, cool! You can talk!" He moved a little closer, the light refracting though his translucent body in places. She couldn't help but envy him—even an incomplete body was better than none.

"You look like a person," she said, curious despite herself. "How is it that you retain your appearance? Are you special?"

The boy shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "Um…I'm a little hazy on the details."

"As are we all," she replied with sympathy.

"So, who's heart are you?"

The star wished she had an answer. "No one's, anymore. They took away my name—everything about me."

Sora flinched, seeming shocked. "No way! They couldn't have taken away your heart."

"Only because it pines for another."

"Yeah?" he asked, voice full of concern. "Someone's coming for you?"

Another question without a real answer. "…I cannot be certain," she said, though she hated admitting it. It had been so long, and Lauriam couldn't even remember himself, let alone her. "He's been changed beyond recognition—his heart replaced with another's," she continued, thinking of those strange gold eyes shining out of her brother's face. "But were he to regain his old self again, he would be distressed by my absence. So I choose to wait here, where he can find me."

"Oh…" Sora nodded firmly. "Good! You have to believe!"

"Believe?" the star asked, perplexed. Believe in what? In Lauriam? She wasn't sure she was able to believe in much of anything anymore. "Oh, you mean know in my heart he will return, without any proof?"

The boy nodded again, grinning. "Exactly, believe! I thought it was all over for me, but a friend of mine looked me in the eye and said, you don't believe that!"

The star considered this, and brightened slightly, humming. It had been a long time since anyone had encouraged her that way. It sounded nice.

The boy seemed to take her hum as one of agreement, and he smiled again before crossing his arms. "So, um—who did this to you? Heartless steal hearts, so…a Nobody?"

The faint memory of a figure in the darkness flashed through her, and she tried to keep herself from shuddering. "A…somebody," she said.

"Really? Hmm….well, I wish I could help. But my situation's no better." He sat down on the surface of the water with a sigh, looking a little less certain than he had a moment before.

She drifted closer, wishing she could sit beside him. "You must see to the tasks before you first."

"The tasks before me?" He chuckled a little wryly. "There's so many…"

"All the more reason for you to make an effort."

The boy considered that, and nodded. "Yeah, you're right," he said with another smile, but it faded quick. "I just…wish I knew what to do."

The star moved a little closer. "Here you are on the brink, and yet you hold on to who you are." He had no idea how lucky he was, being able to retain his form and memories in this world. "You possess a strong sense of purpose. And in that purpose you will find direction."

Sora smiled, and the warmth in his blue eyes reminded her of how Lauriam's had looked so long ago. "Thank you," he said. "I'm really glad we met. You cheered me up! I hope that friend of yours finds you soon."

The star paused. It had been so long since she had truly considered being found—so long since she had even spoken, really talked, with another person. She let herself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like to be found by her brother, to speak with him again. The thought warmed her. "Thank you," she said softly. "Me too."

He nodded with another grin, and she straightened up suddenly. "Oh, hey! If I see him, I'll tell him that you're here! What's his name?"

The star hesitated for a moment, then floated even closer until she was mere inches away. "I know him as Lauriam," she said quietly into his ear, "but you know him by a different name."

The boy frowned, confused. She thought she could almost see the gears turning in his head. "Huh?"

She drifted away, and for the first time what seemed like an eternity, she felt the urge to laugh. Holding it back, she said simply, "Our secret."

The boy looked at her, and then he nodded seriously, looking around as if checking to make sure no one else had overheard them. She watched as he got to his feet and moved away, glancing at her one last time over his shoulder before wandering in the direction of another floating star.

It was strange, watching the boy as he moved from star to star. He spoke to every single one, listening to what they had to say-few really held a conversation, but it seemed as if none of the lingering hearts could resist a sympathetic ear. Each told him their story, and each seemed just a bit brighter after he moved away. She couldn't see herself to confirm it, but the warmth still burning gently within her told the star without a name that her light had brightened too.

Sora paused for a little longer with a star floating nearby. The star without a name wasn't sure, but she thought it might have been the one that had arrived just before Sora, the one that had sounded so familiar. Sora seemed to find them familiar too; he seemed quite concerned by their presence. She didn't move any closer, not wanting to intrude, and eventually he moved on, his expression set, his steps surer than they had been before.

Eventually, the cat-creature floated back down again to speak to Sora. He was solid again, colorful and vibrant, and his laugh echoed across the water as they spoke. The star drifted as close as she dared, but stayed just out of earshot, strangely afraid to get too close.

A keyblade appeared in Sora's hand, and a great pillar of light shot up from the sea into the sky. The star floated back in awe, watching as Sora entered the pillar and disappeared. The cat watched him too, and after a moment it spoke, and though its voice was soft, the star heard its words anyway.

"May your heart be your guiding key."

And then the cat was gone, a small spark of light in its place, and it drifted upward until it was engulfed by the light of the sun. The star without a name looked after it for so long that she didn't realize there was another star near her until it was only a few feet away. She floated backward a few inches in surprise, but didn't move away entirely.

"Yes?" she said, uncertainly.

"You…spoke to Sora too, didn't you?" It was the new star, the one that had arrived just before Sora. "Not just a few words. Do you know him?"

"I...recognized him," said the star without a name. "He wouldn't know me. But he knows someone I love."

"Really?" said the new star, sounding surprised. She floated a little closer. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm quite certain." The star without a name paused, thinking hard, and then with a rush of recognition she realized why this new star sounded so familiar. "Excuse me, but are you Namine?"

"Oh—yes," said the new star, sounding quite surprised. "I'm sorry, have we met before?"

"No, we haven't. But you know someone I love too. I'm…I'm afraid you wouldn't have very good memories of him." Marluxia's cruel smile flashed through her memory, and, though she couldn't see it, the water beneath her rippled slightly.

"…Can I ask who it is?"

"His name is Lauriam. His real name. He's lost it, now…." The water beneath her twisted again, swirling with faint color. "But he'll get it back. I have to believe…I have to believe that he will remember himself, and find me."

"Lauriam? You mean-?" the star broke off, and she floated a few inches back. "Marluxia?"

The water darkened. "Yes….yes. I'm sorry. I know how he treated you—I saw it. "

"Saw?" Namine sunk a few inches lower. "You were watching?"

"Yes," said the star. "I've watched for a very long time. It was the only thing I could do. Watch, and wait."

"…He doesn't remember you, does he?" Namine asked softly.

"No," answered the star. "He doesn't."

"I'm sorry. I know what it's like to be forgotten." Namine paused, and then she floated a little closer. "Can I ask your name?"

"I don't remember. He's forgotten it, so I have too. It's been a very long time," the star repeated.

"I see." Namine fell silent again, then asked, very quietly, "What…was he like? Before, when he remembered you?"

"He was…"

The star thought of her brother, of the Lauriam she remembered from so long ago, with warm eyes and a kind smile and hands that always held hers when she was scared, even when she was much too old to need her brother to hold her hand. She thought of the way he always leaned against walls with his arms crossed, one hand resting at his chin when he was deep in thought. She thought of his voice, the sound of his laugh, of the way it shook the last time they had spoken, when he had seemed so worried and uncertain. She thought of the relief it held when he had patted her head with a smile, thanking her for listening to him. She thought of how hard he had tried to find her, how even now there was some part within him that seemed to recall that he had lost something important to him.

She tried to speak, and found she couldn't. The water beneath her flashed with color, images moving so quickly that even she couldn't keep track of them, but Namine seemed to be watching them closely. When at last the water stilled, Namine moved in a way that suggested a nod.

"I think I understand," she said. "If I see him again…I'll tell him you're here. I'll try to remind him."

"See him again? How do you mean?"

Namine did not have time to answer. Her light began to glow a little brighter, increasingly slowly at first but gaining speed until soon she was almost as bright as the sun hanging in the sky. "Sora," she whispered, and then, a little louder, she said, "I have to go. I promise I'll tell him about you, I-"

The star didn't hear the end of her sentence. The star that was Namine flared, and the nameless star was blinded by her light. When her vision had cleared at last, there was nothing in front of her but empty air.

…I see, the star thought to herself. She wished she could leave too, as Sora and now Namine had done, but knew that she could not. She would remain in this world, and wait, and watch. It was all she could do.

Time passed, though it seemed to flow quicker than it had before, or perhaps she was only preoccupied by the conversations she had held with Namine and Sora, reveling in the brief company after so long alone. She waited for the pull of her brother's heart, and when it came, she was surprised at how strong the connection felt—as strong as it had been the first few times she had reached out for him. The water beneath her darkened but resolved itself almost instantly, quicker than it had in ages. There was her brother, back in that dusty wasteland with his scythe in hand, and he looked exhausted. Sora stood before him, lowering his keyblade with rueful eyes. The scythe dropped from Lauriam's hands with a clatter as he fell to his knees, but even as she floated closer to the water in concern, she heard something that made her stop dead: Lauriam laughed, low and tired but genuine.

"Oh," he said, voice filled with soft awe as he looked at his hands. Slivers of darkness were rising from them, drifting up into the air. "So now it all comes back to me…"

"Hey," Sora said, frowning, "was that…a real laugh?"

"Yes." Her brother lifted a hand and laid it on his chest, over his heart. "My heart is remembering how to feel."

"Really?" Sora smiled, and he sounded relieved. "That's good!"

Her brother sighed, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "And now, I am on the cusp of reclaiming my identity," he said faintly, "my purpose for being." He looked up at Sora, and his eyes were still that strange shade of gold so different from his own, but when he smiled the star could not help but gasp at how familiar the expression was, how genuine and warm. "Thanks to you, Sora."

What was left of her brother dissipated, and the image in the water did too. The star floated slowly down to rest just above the surface of the water, looking at the spot that had held Lauriam's smile—truly Lauriam's, not the smirks and cold quirks of the lip that Marluxia had worn so often. He was remembering himself, she thought. His true self. If his heart makes its way back to his body again, maybe he…

She was suddenly too nervous to finish the thought, too afraid of disappointment. The star gathered herself up, her light twinkling in anxious little bursts, and reached outward, carefully concentrating for any sign of her brother's heart. At first she felt nothing, but that was fine, she tried to convince herself. It had been difficult at times before. She just needed to wait, and have faith in him.

She drifted, and waited, and finally, at the very edge of her awareness, she felt a familiar pull. It was faint, but somehow, as she followed the sensation, she was reminded of the warmth of someone's hand around her own. The water beneath her began to shift, and she held onto the feeling as firmly as she could, trusting that it would take her to what she most wanted to see.

The colors whirled and twisted in the sea below before at last settling on a familiar sight: the forest path that lead to Corona, the one Lauriam had lost his heart in twice before. Soft light was shining in patches along the path, illuminating what she thought was pre-dawn gloom. At the edge of the path, sitting with his back to a tall tree, was her brother. His eyes were closed; he seemed to be asleep. She looked him over quickly, scared that she might see blooming patches of blood seeping through his clothes, but though there were a few bruises on his arms, something about the steadiness of his breathing suggested that perhaps he was not so heavily injured as he had been last time.

His eyes fluttered open, and the star was relieved to see they were blue once more, not even a speck of gold visible as he blinked up at the sunlight filtering down through the leaves onto his face. He lifted a hand and laid it once more over his heart, eyes slipping closed for a moment before opening again, and he spoke one word, soft and full of longing.

"Strelitzia."

The star without a name gasped out loud, and her light flared brighter than it had ever done before as her entire being flooded with memory after memory, filling her until she felt as if she was about to burst apart. She was no longer a nameless star wandering the endless stretch of sea and sky but Strelitzia, Strelitzia, a keyblade wielder and the friend of Elrena and the younger sister of Lauriam, Strelitzia who startled easily, who worried too much and argued with her Chirithy too often and who always, always, always watched over the people she loved.

Strelitzia was so overwhelmed that she almost missed Lauriam climbing to his feet. Almost, but not quite—she steadied herself enough to focus on her brother once more, relief replacing her sudden flood of memories as he pulled himself unsteadily upward. He leaned heavily against the tree for a moment, steeling himself, before taking a step forward, and then another, until he was stumbling into another tree.

"Keep trying," Strelitzia whispered. "That's all you can do."

Almost as if he had heard her, he lifted his head and closed his eyes again, taking a deep and steadying breath. "I'm going to find you," he murmured to himself. "I promise. I will." And then he was moving again, slowly and carefully, but ever forward.

Strelitzia watched her brother make his way down the path toward Corona, her light shining steadily. "I know you will," she said. He would keep searching, and perhaps he would find out what had happened to her at last, but someday he would find her here, and they would be together at last. Until then she would do as she always had done: watch, and wait, and believe.