Sora trailed down the sidewalk. The wind lashed at his face, and he dug his chin deeper into his coat. The days were getting shorter, the weather colder, and autumn would soon give way to winter. He breathed in the cold air and felt the sting in his nose, it would be getting very cold in the apartment, hopefully the heater would be working.

The bells above the door jangled as he entered the deli. He spoke quickly to preempt the noisy greeting he knew was coming.

"Hey, Pete."

Pete looked up from his magazine, slouched over the counter, his nose dug in the pages. He grinned when he saw Sora.

"Well, I'll be damned. How long has it been?"

"A while," Sora admitted, smirking at the mirth in the older man's tone.

"Thought ya'd never come back, boy! What kept ya?"

"I've been busy," Sora said, stepping into an aisle and scouring the selections for something to temper the hunger in his stomach.

"Yeah? How's school been?"

Sora pursed his lips. "Fine," he answered.

"That's good…real good. I remember when I was your age-"

It was at this point that Sora tuned out. He scanned the items displayed before him, coming to settle on the star shaped cookie wrapped tightly in plastic. He grabbed it and inspected the label.

"…I told 'im to just put the damn thing down and-"

"Pete?"

He stopped speaking and looked at Sora curiously. "What?"

"What is this?" Sora held up the cookie. Pete stared at him blankly.

"Did ya read the label?"

"Yeah," Sora nodded, "but how come I've never seen it around here before?"

"Oh, well, I think that's a new one. Got a whole shipment of them last week, they're supposed to look like some exotic fruit, pow-poo something…"

"Paopu," Sora tested the name on his lips. It was good. He smiled. "I'll take it."

"Alright," Pete nodded. Sora walked over to the counter, caught sight of the tiny flip phones hanging from their displays and grabbed a replacement for good measure. He put some munny down on the counter and slid it over to Pete. He had taken to spending the pouches stashed away under his bed. They were no longer in debt, nobody was coming back for it, what difference did it make?

"Keep the change," he said. Pete looked at him uncertainly.

"Alright…thanks, Sora."

Sora nodded in acknowledgement and left the store. He held up the star shaped cookie in his hand and his stomach grumbled in response. He was thankful for the little things.

Something had changed. Sora noticed it as he walked the halls to his first period class. He caught the sidelong glances thrown his way by the herds of individuals clustered by the lockers, heard the whispers as he passed. The feeling only intensified as he sat in class, he could feel the eyes boring holes into the back of his head. Sora didn't know what had prompted this sudden shift in public perception that had suddenly made him so conspicuous, but he knew he didn't like it. It made him sweat.

He was on his way to the cafeteria, making a conscious effort to ignore the stares and continue onward, when Aerith stepped out of the Guidance Office and spotted him in the crowd. Sora saw her lips curve up into that welcoming smile and he groaned inwardly.

"Sora, we've missed you," she said to him as he attempted to pass.

"Yeah, thanks," he muttered. He had to move quickly, or it would be too late.

"Why don't you come into my office? I feel like it's been forever since we've had a chat," she said, her lips moving ever further up along her face.

Sora stopped and turned, ever so reluctantly. It couldn't be worse than whatever spectacle was awaiting him in the cafeteria, he supposed.

They moved into her office and Sora sunk into the familiar brown leather seat that he had grown so accustomed to.

"So," she began, settling into her own seat, "how have you been?"

"Fine, I guess," he responded rather noncommittally.

"Oh? I'm glad to hear it," she said.

"Yeah, our finances are a bit better now, so…" he trailed off, trying to grasp on to some topic that would allow him to steer the conversation somewhere safe.

"I see," Aerith nodded, "I was told you had to take leave because you had suffered a medical emergency. May I ask what happened?"

Sora froze. "I-I hurt myself," he said, mentally chiding himself as she raised an eyebrow at his stutter.

"I mean…well, I…I was skating with Roxas…and I tripped down some steps and hit my head. It was pretty bad."

"Oh," she looked at him with uncertain eyes, and Sora could tell she didn't buy a word of it. He waited for her to call him out, rip his hastily fabricated and poorly contrived story to shreds.

She didn't. Instead, she gave him a look of understanding. "Are you alright?" she asked. Her question put a stop to his nervous tittering, and her tone sent an image of a crimson haired girl flashing through his mind.

"Yeah," he said, and his own tone softened, "I'm alright."

"…because when people go through a trauma, sometimes it helps to talk about it."

Sora said nothing, mostly because he wasn't sure what to say. Here was a chance to spill his guts out onto the office floor, not something he was particularly intent on doing anyway, but it was there. He could feel the words building inside him, he wanted to speak, he realized. He so badly wanted to speak.

"I guess I'm just disappointed."

Aerith nodded without missing a beat. "Why do you feel disappointed?"

Sora took a moment to consider his words. "When I got hurt…I…"

He stopped. Aerith watched him intently, silently imploring him to continue.

"I saw something…or felt something, I guess. I was lying on the ground and…and I remember everything just looked so…so beautiful. I could see the bugs in the grass and the sun…it was going up over the rooftops and for one moment everything felt…real. It felt like I was really…really…"

"Really…?" Aerith pressed.

"Alive."

They sat in silence and Sora was almost beginning to feel embarrassed when she questioned, "How do you feel now?"

Sora shrugged. "The same as always. Whatever it was, it's gone."

Aerith hummed and seemed to ponder his words. Sora rolled his eyes.

"It's funny," he said, "people talk about having these life-changing experiences all the time, near death or whatever. But let me tell you, regular life sure has a way of picking away at it."

"Have you thought about maybe channeling what you experienced into something positive? Maybe you don't have to necessarily feel whatever it was you felt, but surely you can learn from it," she suggested.

"Oh, I learned from it alright," Sora chuckled. "Nothing changes."

The rest of the school day followed in a bubble of growing discomfort. The stares and the whispers were dying down, but the malaise was only growing. It grew exponentially when he spotted Kairi in the halls with her friends. Sora wondered how, after all she had said to him, after everything she had shared in her confidence, she could laugh and jest and pretend with them. He imagined she must be some kind of wonderful actor. A set of skills so carefully honed over years of practice that it was nothing if not second nature to her. He reminded himself to ask her what she wanted to be when she grew up. He would spend some more munny on himself if he guessed correctly.

Sora made sure to steer clear from her immediate vicinity and left the building, following the frenzied crowd of younglings out onto the street and began the walk home. When he had come about halfway he stopped, he thought the malaise would dissipate the farther he was from school, but the closer to home he came, the more he found it grew. Taking root deep inside him and forcing him to turn back. It was guiding him somewhere new now, someplace he had tried to force from his thoughts.

Sora arrived at the corner where just a few short weeks ago he had been selling controlled substances to all too willing customers. There was no one here now. It was too early for that, he assumed. He waltzed over to the stoop, hands deep in his pockets, and recalled the hours spent sitting on those very steps. He felt good, now. Better. He wondered what Yuffie and Xion were up to.

The sound of the ocean lapping against the nearby piers cut through his contemplation and he turned his head towards the docks. Pressing forward, he walked along the riverfront, glancing down at the black foamy water as it rose and fell against the concrete barrier. Such a soothing sound, he thought, if only everything sounded like that.

Sora caught site of a figure seated on the edge of one of the piers up ahead. Lanky, with feet dangling over the open water and sporting a strange looking hat that drooped sideways. A top hat, perhaps. Sora couldn't be sure, he was never one for fashion. Nonetheless, he moved towards the figure, stopping only when he was standing behind him. A boy, older, younger, he didn't know. He felt drawn to this spot all the same.

"Mind if I take a seat?" Sora asked. The boy in the hat didn't turn around, made no sound of acknowledgement, didn't even move. He stared out at the water, looking out across the river at the city whose denizens were just beginning to make shine as the sun fell below the horizon.

A silent assent. Sora nodded, taking a seat beside the boy. "Okay," he said. Sora looked down at the water. One could mistake it for a bottomless abyss, without the waves. Down, down, down. He turned to the boy. Sora wasn't one for initiating conversation, and something told him this boy wasn't either. Still, he felt a strange affinity to this bearer of peculiar headwear.

"What's your name?" he asked. The boy made didn't move an inch. His eyes remained focus on the river, glittering in the last vestiges of sunlight.

"Goofy," the boy replied, after a moment of weighty silence. His answer struck a nostalgic chord within Sora. Vaguely, he remembered Roxas once mentioning the name. Sora wracked his brain, certain that there was more to it.

"What are you doing out here, Goofy?" Sora inquired. He wasn't sure what was driving him to ask questions, what had prompted him to even sit here. It was like there was a rocket inside him, sending him on an irrevocable crash course towards something else.

"I sit here sometimes," he said. The boy spoke funny, Sora noted. A speech impediment, maybe.

"Uh-huh." Sora's collection of prompts had run dry. There was nothing there. He stared out at the water, tracing Goofy's gaze to a spot out in the center of the river.

"Your brother doesn't like me," Goofy spoke suddenly, causing Sora to turn to him in surprise.

"Huh?"

"Your brother. Doesn't like me," he repeated. His voice was monotone, as if he were simply stating an irreducible law of nature. It was off-putting, Sora thought, it didn't suit his appearance.

"Why do you say that?" Sora played along. He felt he was on trial now. He was on the stand, answering for sins past.

"I hear him whispering, him and the others. Always whispering about me," Goofy murmured. "They whisper about you too."

Sora took a breath. "My brother…is a jerk. You should probably just ignore him."

"Can't," Goofy shook his head. "I'm stuck with him."

"Well, I'm sorry," Sora mumbled, ashamed of the actions of his other half. "I know how it feels."

Goofy said nothing, choosing instead to stare out at that same spot of water. Sora rocked himself self-consciously, and took another look at the river beneath his dangling feet. One little push and he could fly over the edge and into that shadowy darkness. It was so quiet, with only the roiling of the water and his own heartbeat syncing together in harmony.

"I had a brother," Goofy said. Sora gave him a hesitant smile, glad to hear him say something about himself and uncertain about all the rest.

"Had?"

"He drowned," Goofy said simply.

Sora's face fell in an instant. "Oh."

"Right over there," Goofy pointed out at the water with his thick white glove and Sora's eyes followed it to the spot that Goofy had been staring at all along.

Drowned. The word reverberated in his mind. Over and over. Like a record that would never stop spinning.

"What was his name?" he managed to ask.

"Donald."

The malaise was gone but a new weight had taken its place as Sora climbed the steps to his apartment. He sighed heavily as he stuck the key in the door and pushed it open. Immediately he became privy to a frantic rustling.

He entered to find both Roxas and Naminé on the couch. Or rather, Roxas lying on the couch with Naminé quickly extracting herself from his lap, whirling around and facing the ground. Their hair was mussed, clothes ruffled, Roxas cleared his throat awkwardly and Naminé's face had turned beet red. Sora took one glance at them and heaved another sigh, shutting the door and looking at them expectantly. He didn't even know what he wanted to hear.

"H-Hey Sora," Naminé greeted. Roxas looked a bit miffed.

"Where've you been all day?" he asked. Sora felt anger rearing to be let loose, but he reigned in his emotions. Now was not the time. He settled for sarcasm.

"What are you, our mother?" Sora bit out. Roxas' eyes widened at his remark.

"Oh wait," Sora giggled, "that wouldn't make sense." Suddenly everything was incredibly funny.

"What's your problem?" Roxas asked angrily, getting up onto his feet and clenching his fists. Naminé looked between them nervously.

"I don't know Roxas, you tell me. What is my problem?" Sora said, gritting his teeth, trying and failing to withhold the rage that was seeping from every pore in his body.

Roxas took a step closer and Naminé grabbed onto his arm, but he shook it off. He jabbed his finger in Sora's chest. "I don't know what your deal is man, but whatever it is, you need to work it out."

That was it. Sora snapped, he grabbed his brother by the collar and drove him into the wall. He heard Naminé scream in surprise and he gripped Roxas' shirt tighter, moving so close to him that their noses were touching.

Sora opened his mouth to speak, to shout, to yell, but nothing came out. He had nothing to say. He let Roxas go and took a step back. Everybody remained where they were.

"Sorry," he muttered, and fled down the hall into his room. He needed air. He lifted his window and stuck his head out into the Brooklyn sky. He looked down at the little corner shops below, the residencies that stuck up into the open air and the bright yellow lampposts that dotted the landscape. He breathed in the cold musty air and became aware that his hands were shaking.

He was angry. At what, at who, he didn't have the first clue. But he was angry.

Sora sat down on his mattress and listened to the muffled sounds of Naminé and his brother speaking. They were talking about him, to be sure. How could they not? Whispers.

He lay down and looked up at the ceiling, shivering as the cold enveloped him. He did not move to close his window. He didn't move at all. His thoughts shifted to Kairi. The girl was nagging at his brain. Always there on the fringes, always ready to sprout out and insert herself as the center of attention, just like real life, he thought with some disdain. But he enjoyed her company, that could not be denied. The room felt just that much emptier without her.

A voice drifted into his head, sly and subtle.

There are many things that need to be replaced.

Yes. Many things. Maybe there was an answer out there, somewhere. Things could not continue along the current path. He had tasted freedom once.

Sora closed his eyes and nodded off to sleep.

The next day he made a beeline straight for the cafeteria, moving past Aerith's office with purpose, he felt as if he were making a statement simply by existing.

He hesitated when he entered the lunchroom, conscious that his peers may not be done with their not so clandestine campaign of strange looks and overt whispering. But the people did not pay attention, as they never had. Life goes on.

Sora marched straight up to Riku's table, and he felt the first flutters of fear in his chest. He had forced himself to push forward, to push aside any second thoughts. He needed this. It didn't pay to be afraid. He saw them all, Wakka, Tidus, Kairi, Selphie, Naminé, and the rest, and he willed himself move.

He stood behind Riku and tapped him on the shoulder. They hadn't seen him coming, but now they did. Everyone's eyes turned towards him, with the exception of Naminé, recalling perhaps what he had walked in on the night before. Wakka looked at him like he was nothing more than an ant stuck to a shoe, Tidus looked on with vague interest. Kairi was clearly confused by his sudden appearance, and stared at him questioningly. Sora ignored her.

Riku turned and looked up at him. Sora saw his eyes briefly betray surprise, but the perturbation soon became cold indifference.

"What?" he grunted.

Sora knew his mere presence was an affront to the social contract. Sora also didn't care. "I need to talk to you."

"Um…"

"Now," he demanded. Their brief words were beginning to attract the attention of the surrounding tables, and he heard the chattering in the room begin to die down.

Riku tried to recover from the clear shock of Sora's uninvited entrance into his social bubble. "Get lost," he drawled, "or I'll make you get lost."

"Riku-" Kairi began, but he held up his hand and she stopped speaking.

"I'm not leaving," Sora shook his head, "until we talk outside."

Riku jumped up and faced Sora, bringing his full height to bear on the smaller teen. "You don't want this."

Sora felt his resolve weakening, but he held his ground. "Outside."

The cafeteria went silent. Riku glanced at their surroundings nervously. Then he grabbed a fistful of Sora's shirt, and Sora felt himself being hauled out of the cafeteria and into the hall.

"What the fuck?!" Riku growled, throwing Sora against the wall and holding him in place. "Have you lost your mind?! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't beat the shit out of you right here?!"

"I want back in."

"What?!" Riku exclaimed, pulling back as if he'd been stung.

"I want back in," Sora repeated, "put me back on the streets."

Riku let him go and looked at him in wonderment. "I told you, that's done. You don't owe me."

"I know," Sora said, "but this is just me. No Roxas."

"No," Riku shook his head. "Not happening."

"Why not?" Sora took a step closer, but shrunk back at Riku's withering glare. "You need more people, I can help."

"I said no. Let it go, Sora," Riku snapped. "Don't ask me again."

Riku walked back into the cafeteria and Sora was left against the wall, staring at the space the taller boy had just occupied. He had been rejected, and for what? He had thrown himself onto the fire and was spurned in return. What had it all been for, if not to secure something for himself. It couldn't be meaningless. It couldn't all be for nothing.

Sora stepped back into the cafeteria and immediately all eyes were on him. He disregarded the stares of his generation and focused in on Riku, who was settling back down at his table. He saw red.

Before even he knew what was occurring, his feet were already padding against the cafeteria floor, moving with extreme precision towards Riku, faced forward and unaware of the spiky haired missile that was presently streaking towards his back.

The others pointed at him, and Riku turned just in time to receive a right hook square in the jaw. Sora didn't give him a chance to react, grabbing his flowing silver hair and pulling him so he fell over onto the ground.

The cafeteria erupted into magnificent cheers, but to Sora the exclamations of excitement whirling around him were lost in his rage-induced haze. Above it all he heard Kairi shouting his name, and he paused.

That was enough. Riku grabbed his arm and twisted. Sora heard the pop and the pain that shot up his arm was worse than anything he had experienced in his life. Worse than Seifer, whose panicked eyes as the flames erupted around them now flitted across his vision. Turning on and off like a switch. On and off, the match that fell and rose, forward and backward.

Sora saw black spots, and he knew it was over. The next punch connected with his nose and knocked him flat out on the floor.

The spots became the world. This time sleep would come easy.