A First Mission

"Alright, Riku, I finally have an assignment I think you're up to," Ansem announced over breakfast. While Riku had to pretend to down another bowl of the toxic darkness, Ansem devoured an enormous bowl of ice cream selfishly. He chuckled inwardly as he dropped the spoon with an abrupt clang, and Riku followed with an unconscious, disappointed sigh.

"It's about time," the teen replied, not bothering to hide his irritation. "I was about to go insane if I had to listen to Bob's whining another day. So, what's the assignment?"

"It shouldn't be too difficult. All I want you to do is spy on the new Keyblade master and report back on his progress."

"Wait a minute. I thought I was suppose to be the Keyblade master. I mean, after all, it did call out to me back on the island… before Bob kidnapped me, that is."

"Riku, Riku, let it go, for Pete's sake. Just let it go," Ansem muttered, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, you were supposed to be the Keyblade master. However, according to what Bob told me, the Keyblade, upon seeing that you were no longer available, decided to opt for a replacement close at hand. I believe that, if it hadn't done so, it would have dissolved back into the oblivion or whatever source it came from."

"Who's the replacement?"

"I think you already know him. He goes by the name of Sora."

"Sora? That little optimistic goofball?"

"I thought he was a friend of yours."

"He is a friend of mine. I meant that lovingly… obviously you've never had too many friends before."

"That depends on your definition of friends."

"I don't mean people that you manipulate into helping you."

"Oh. Well, then, yeah. I don't recall having many friends… there was a time, I think, before I encountered Bob… but I forget… what happened then?" Ansem paused, his chin clutched in his hand, as he dug fruitlessly through his tattered memories.

"Anyway… my mission," Riku prompted with a cough. "What were you saying?"

"Oh, yes, well. Your mission is just to watch this Sora, don't interact with him, mind you, and report back to me on his actions."

"It's probably not in my best interest to point this out, but you do realize that Sora is one of my friends, right?"

"Of course."

"And that I will want to ditch you to go with him."

"You may think that now, but I'm sure your mind will change."

"Are you completely insane?" Riku chuckled, shaking his head. "What on earth would make me choose you, the psychotic, self-imposed leader of the most pathetic organization I've ever seen, over my best friend since childhood."

"I just have a hunch, that's all," Ansem replied calmly, a suspicious twinkle in his eyes. "As I was saying, your mission. I will transport you to a tiny town called Traverse Town, leaving you to scout out Sora on your own, and, as an added bonus, I'll let you wear your regular clothes. However, the gloves must stay."

"I'm not parting with my gloves, Ansem."

"Oh, come on, please?"

"Hell, no."

"I just wanted to wear them for a little while…"

"They won't fit you. They're specially made for my hand size. You'll just rip them."

"Then at least let me borrow them to make some of my own."

"And let my glove style become mainstream? Not on your life." He paused, glancing about the chaotic room, absorbing the varying levels of disarray. "Or lack of one."

"There's no reasoning with him, Ansem," Bob called out from the doorway. "He has a very apparent stubborn streak, but don't hold that against him. We have reason to believe he was beaten with the Stubborn Stick as a child. His parents would alternate between whipping him with that stick and tying his hair with pretty, little bows."

"Why, you-" Riku began, his body conveying an obvious message of warning.

"Children, please, behave yourselves," Ansem soothed, looking at each of them in turn. "Bob, Riku's about to begin his first mission. Give him your hand."

"Oh? And why does he get to go out and we're stuck here… again?"

"You're a bunch of animated, talking darkness. This is a strictly covert operation. You're just a tad conspicuous."

"Oh, yeah? What about him? He's got white hair! And a neon yellow shirt! You're saying he won't stick out in a crowd?"

"He'll stick out less than you or I would. He's a teenager. Nobody really notices teens."

"Hey!" Riku cried indignantly.

"Oh, you shut up," Bob told him. "You're lucky. You get to see something other than these dust-covered tiles for once. Take our hand."

Riku aimed his hand carefully for the shaky one Bob offered. Luckily, he grasped it somewhat firmly on the first attempt. If he held it too tightly, his grasp would begin to sink into Bob's substance like quicksand. Bob closed its yellow eyes briefly, apparently concentrating, and a whirling appendage of the darkness attached itself to Riku's palm. The boy ripped his hand from Bob's grasp in surprise.

"What is this?" he asked, studying the substance clinging to yet floating on his hand.

"It's just another part of darkness," Ansem explained. "This will allow you to travel to Traverse Town and enable you to return here."

"And people won't stare at me for having some weird, swirling thing on my hand?"

"Oh, right… You can just put it in your pocket between uses. If you will it, it should slide off quite easily."

"Is that all?"

"Yep, you're all set!" Ansem exclaimed happily, emphasizing this with an excited clap. "Just will yourself to be in Traverse Town, and it'll take you there."