Mira sat up with a gasp, heart pounding as she stared wide-eyed into the darkness, frantically searching for any sign of the shadowy silhouette that had plagued her dreams. Something rested on her shoulder and Mira scrambled away to the edge of the bed, but it grabbed hold of her wrist, pulling her back.

A familiar scent washed over her as strong arms held her close. "I've got you, Mira."

"Braig?" she whispered, and in the next second, his lips were on hers, stealing her breath away. She leaned into the affection, letting it fill her up and warm her from the inside. If this was a dream, it was the best kind. Mira rested her head on his shoulder when they parted for air at last. "Am I awake?"

"Yeah," she felt more than heard him say. "Finally."

"Finally?"

His embrace tightened. "You've been unresponsive for... a while."

She furrowed her brow. "How long?"

Braig hesitated. "About nine months, give or take."

Stomach dropping, Mira pulled back with an articulate, "Huh? It didn't feel like that long..."

"Dreams often don't."

"Then how... how did I wake up?"

"We had a visitor who looked you over. He did something and... I've been at your side waiting for you to awaken ever since. I thought it hadn't worked at first, but you're here now so whatever it was must've helped."

"Who was it?"

"Mickey. He's a-"

"Mouse." It was with some measure of guilt that Mira realized she'd forgotten about Mickey. He'd even been there at the graveyard, but she hardly paid him any mind after everything that'd happened.

"You know him?"

"A little. What was he doing here?" Was he searching for Aqua?

"He visits Ansem from time to time. Which reminds me," the lights flickered to life, illuminating the infirmary, and he pulled his hand back through the portal he'd made, "there are some things I need to tell you, in private."

She rubbed her eyes, scowling. "A little warning next time would be nice."

Braig snorted. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

Slipping off the bed, Mira moved toward the door and the pair ventured out into the corridor, following the familiar path toward the living quarters. Moonlight streamed through the windows, providing scarcely enough light by which to see. Dark shadows clawed down the hallway like long fingers, like Smiley's fingers, and Mira couldn't help throwing fearful glances over her shoulder every so often, heart thumping erratically. Braig glanced at her but said nothing. It was with great relief when she pushed open the door to the common room, though that relief was soon replaced with dismay as she stepped inside.

All the Christmas decorations from the tree to the twinkling fairy lights were gone. The absence of festive ornamentation stood in stark contrast to how she remembered the room, lending credence to Braig's claim that she'd slept for a long time. Rather than joy, there was a somber, unwelcoming air. A hand at her waist urged her forward, and Mira moved toward their rooms wordlessly, stopping in front of Braig's door.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" she asked as he shut the door behind them.

"Where to begin?" Braig sighed, running a hand through his hair. His gaze ran over her form, drinking in the sight of her. Mira's cheeks warmed and she looked away, but he caught her chin, tilting her head up, and stared deeply into her eyes. "Look at me," he breathed. As if in a trance, he stroked her face with a feather-light touch, an inscrutable look in his eye. His golden eye, so like Master Xehanort's... and just like that, Mira was reminded of her conversation with her master. Though he looked upon her with affection, this was the same man who'd hidden his knowledge of Aqua's armor and of his status as one of her master's vessels. A frown tugged at her lips, and she pulled away. She could only hope he'd finally choose to trust her.

"You wanted to tell me something?"

His brows drew together. "Ah, right. Um, Ansem tried contacting the other master, Eraqus-something-or-other, because you weren't waking up." Mira paled, heart dropping to her toes. "Obviously, there was no reply, and when he asked Mickey... well, now he knows not to expect one. I have no doubt he'll ask you about it soon, since you're finally awake."

"Just what I need," she muttered. "If he realizes I lied, he's gonna send me away."

"Possibly, but... that might be for the best. Xehanort's only become more unstable and... the farther away you are from him, the better."

So much for not wanting to say goodbye. "Unstable how? Is he dangerous?"

"Yes."

Mira waited for him to elaborate, scowling when he didn't. "And you think he poses a threat to me?"

"I know he does."

"But you won't tell me why." Braig held his silence, a grave look in his eye. "You'd prefer having me sent away over telling the truth?"

"If it kept you safe-"

"I don't need you to protect me! I can handle whatever it is you're hiding."

He raked a hand through his hair. "What you want to know doesn't only involve Xehanort. A lot has happened..."

Apparently so. "I'm out of patience for this secretive crap, Braig. Either tell me the truth, or I'll figure it out myself."

He scowled. "Just trust that it has to do with your master's plans-"

"Ah, vessels, then," she muttered in distaste.

"How did you-?"

Mira regarded him coolly, crossing her arms. "I may not have been able to bring my master back, but the experiment wasn't a complete failure. I had a long chat with him, and he told me to work with you to secure the thirteen vessels he needs to be his seekers of darkness..." She slumped into the chair at his desk, putting her head in her hands. "But I don't want to do that to people. There must be another way-"

"Not everyone would be unwilling."

She shot him a look. "Most people aren't crazy enough to volunteer." Unlike you, was left unsaid.

There was a sigh, and Braig pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know."

"Yes, and I won't pretend to understand why you'd go to such lengths for a keyblade, but it must be important to you."

"It is."

Her keyblade appeared in her hand in a flash of light. "In that case," she said, taking in a fortifying breath and holding it out to him, "take it. Don't do this."

Braig glanced at her apologetically. "It's not that simple, Mira. I need his keyblade, specifically."

"What for?"

The silence could've suffocated her in its intensity. The guarded look in his eye was so unlike the man she'd grown close to, yet somehow the very same. This extended well beyond a question of trust. For all his good humor, this was a man used to keeping secrets, judging by how little she knew of his past or ambitions. He was closed book; would he always remain as such?

She dropped her gaze to the floor. "Did you... intend to use my feelings for you to get his keyblade?"

He stood at once, enveloping her in his arms, yet his warmth was unable to pierce the chill that'd gripped her heart. "Never. I told you before: I don't need you to get that keyblade. The agreement between the old coot and myself has nothing to do with you, I promise."

"I believe you." And she did, truly. "These plans of yours have nothing to do with me, right?" He dipped his chin, brows furrowed. Placing her hand on his chest, Mira ignored the tightness in her throat, the dull ache in her heart as she pushed him away. "In that case, you won't mind me excusing myself from this circus. I've already got someone stringing me along on limited information. I don't need another."

Braig wrapped his hand around hers. "I'm not stringing you along, Mira."

"Then what do you call this? You don't trust me enough to tell me anything that matters but you expect me to stick around? What do you want from me?"

He cupped her cheeks. "All of you – anything you'll give me."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "It's unfair to ask for so much yet offer very little in return, don't you think?"

"I'm offering you all of me," he asserted. "I just... can't tell you everything yet. That's the truth. But it doesn't mean I don't-" he cut himself off, glancing at the floor. "It doesn't mean my feelings for you aren't real. They're realest thing I've felt in a long time."

Her heart missed a beat. The way he was looking at her... Mira closed the distance between them, and he followed like a magnet, clutching her tightly to him. "Can you promise me something?"

"Name it," he whispered against her lips.

"Can you promise there'll come a day when there are no secrets between us?"

He leaned back, gold meeting grey. "Are you sure you want to know everything I've done, good and bad?"

"I want to know you. And," she bit her lip, cheeks warming, "I want you to know me, too."

"In that case," his lips quirked, "you have my word." Braig cupped her chin, sealing the words with their lips. Until the day everything between them was revealed, this promise would have to be enough.

Morning found Mira venturing through the castle to report to the king. After a sleepless night agonizing about the potential confrontation, she determined that, with no way of knowing what he knew, there was little reason to put off the inevitable. Like a bandage, it was best to rip it off quickly. It was early enough that she didn't meet anyone on her way, and she reached his study unimpeded.

Knocking on the door, her brow rose at the muffled, "Leave me be." She opened it anyway. "I thought I said-" his gaze met hers and he fell silent, struck dumb.

"Morning, Lord Ansem." Mira took a seat on the other side of his desk, raising a brow at the mess of papers strewn across the surface. The disarray was out of place, irregular in the normally organized office.

Ansem gaped, a decidedly un-kingly expression. "How is this possible?"

"Mickey, I guess. Braig said he did something."

Ansem's face took on a pinched expression. "You've seen Braig already?" The king folded his hands over the papers, hiding the scrawl that was too cramped and small to read anyway. The lines on his face were deeper, the stress clear as day under the harsh artificial lighting.

"He was there when I woke up."

"I see. Yes, I suppose he has been a near-constant fixture at your bedside." Ansem rubbed his temples. "I am relieved you're alright, Mira. I was beginning to fear you'd never wake."

"I'm sorry for any trouble I've caused."

The king shook his head. "You've been no trouble, my dear. If anyone should apologize, it is I. Looking after you was my responsibility, and I've failed – in more ways than one."

Mira was inclined to agree, recalling the dangerous 'spar' between her and Xehanort. "How so?"

"Your master indicated that he wished for you to learn here, but I left your learning for you to manage yourself. And after the incident that resulted in your coma, I've realized I'm ill-equipped to oversee your training in any capacity..."

"That wasn't your-"

"Please," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "A great deal has occurred in the time you've been asleep, and it's forced me to make some difficult decisions. But before we get into that, I must inform you of some grave news I received while you were comatose. Master Eraqus-" his voice caught, "fell in battle some time ago. I don't know the specifics but... he's gone."

"You don't... know anything about what happened?" Mira slumped in her chair, exhaling unevenly and staring into her hands, unable to look him in the eyes, her stomach twisting with guilt. Eraqus was his friend, the reason he'd allowed her to stay at all. And all this time, she'd been more concerned about abetting her master's schemes than grieving over the other master's death. What did that say about her?

"I'm afraid not. Mickey was not forthcoming with the details." Mira let out a breath. Well, that answered that. She was in the clear for the moment. "Unfortunately, I cannot, in good conscience, continue hosting you here, given all that has occurred."

"You're sending me away?"

"I've already written to Mickey's master to continue your training. You have a week to prepare and say your goodbyes."

"So soon? I've only just woken up-"

"I don't mean to be harsh, Mira, but Radiant Garden is no longer safe for you, and it would ease my conscious to have you in more capable care."

"You think I require a guardian? With all due respect, I am literally an adult and a trained warrior-!"

"That may be, but my decision is final."

Mira deflated even as the fury burned hotter. This whole situation was absurd. "Fine. Thank you for your hospitality up to this point," she said through gritted teeth. "Excuse me. I need to pack." What she really needed was to plan. How was she supposed to keep an eye on her master and come up with an alternative vessel if Ansem sent her away to train under someone else? With her master trapped deep within Terra's heart, if she complied with Ansem's decision, she'd be unable to do as he instructed at all. She'd already blundered by putting herself to sleep for so long...

And what about Braig?

This wasn't good at all.

Mira wandered back to the common room in a daze, hardly noticing which paths her feet took her. If she had a mind to be fair, she'd admit it was kind – albeit misguided – of him to consider her future, but mastery was merely a step in the path of a seeker, not the destination. There was always more to learn and to see for those willing to go beyond those who came before. But she couldn't be charitable or fair. Not when he insinuated that she required a guardian to protect and keep her, when she was perfectly capable of-

Something hard collided with her shoulder, knocking Mira back into the present. "Sorry, I wasn't..." she trailed off, lips parting in shock. As if manifested by her thoughts, Xehanort glared down at her. "...paying attention." His hair was longer and whiter than she recalled, but the fury in his countenance was painfully familiar. Though, nothing about him outwardly suggested an unstable mind as Braig had mentioned. He just looked pissed off for some reason. That made two of them. Xehanort made to push past her, but she grabbed his sleeve. "Wait-"

"What?" he snapped, turning his dark gaze on her once more.

Mira glared up at him. "What's your problem? I only wanted to ask how you were and whether you were able to remember anything after-"

"Your technique was a failure."

"You don't say, did the coma give it away?" Mira deadpanned. Stiffly, she added, "I only wanted to know if you were adversely affected as well, but I kind of don't care now."

"Other than my time being wasted? No." It's not as if she'd expected him to pay special attention to her waking up, but his complete lack of gratitude or the barest acknowledgement of her efforts was pushing the limits of her patience.

"You're the one who asked me to help, you know. I'll remember to decline next time."

Xehanort closed the distance between them and shoved her into the wall, digging his fingers into her shoulder. Mira winced. "You'd have been more helpful comatose-"

Mira summoned her keyblade, jabbing it under his chin. "You ungrateful asshole!"

"Watch yourself. You may think it's safe to mouth off, but that couldn't be further from the truth." He lowered his voice to a dangerous murmur. "You've been asleep for a while. Things are different now. I'm different."

Wasn't that the truth; he was off his rocker. "A couple months of fiddling with a keyblade means nothing against years of training under a real master." Never mind that her master's heart also resides in the same vessel. Details.

"Would you be willing to bet your life on that?"

Her grip tightened, and she pressed her keyblade more firmly under his jaw. Her master may have asked her to spend time around the vessel, but that didn't mean she had to lick his boots. "Are you willing to risk the consequences of trying?"

"What consequences? Do you think anyone in this castle could stop me if I wanted to remove you from the picture for good?" This attitude screamed 'Terra.' If anyone was resonating with the vessel, it was him. Not exactly her desired outcome.

"Don't waste your effort. Ansem's already kicking me out, so you may as well save yourself the trouble."

Xehanort paused, brows furrowed. "...Why?"

"He feels that I should train with a new keyblade master, since mine is... gone."

"Given your performance, you clearly need the instruction," Xehanort sneered. This motherfu-

"Mira?" Lea and Isa approached them, glancing between her and Xehanort, concern marring their faces. "Everything okay?" Gone were their street clothes, replaced with the guard uniform. They'd made it as apprentices after all. Even so, they were out of place; their lanky frames didn't quite fill out the uniform, though that could be because the other guards were full-grown men.

"Is there a problem here?" Isa asked softly, shooting a glare at Xehanort. Interesting.

"It's nothing, Isa. Just..." she wracked her brain but anything she could say would contradict the obviously threatening atmosphere around them. "Just a small disagreement. But I think we've both made our points, right Xehanort?"

"Indeed." Straightening his coat, Xehanort turned on his heel, leaving her alone with the boys. Leaning her head back against the wall, Mira let out a shaky sigh, pressing her palms against her eyes. Braig was right; Xehanort was off his rocker. There was no way she could spend enough time around him to follow her master's instructions without a fight breaking out. Though, perhaps she already failed on that front, so it didn't matter anyway...

There was a touch against her arm, and her eyes flashed open, meeting Lea's emerald gaze. "Mira, did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine." The ache in her shoulder was nothing that wouldn't heal, at any rate.

"Good. That guy is..." Isa glared at the ground. "Why was he bothering you?"

Mira shrugged. "I made the mistake of wasting his precious time, apparently."

Lea crossed his arms, uncommonly serious. "It's best to steer clear of that creep; he can't be trusted."

"Why do you say that? What did he do to you guys?"

They exchanged a dark look. "Long story, but let's just say he's a terrible person."

She crossed her arms, eyeing the pair with a pointed stare. "Catch me up? What happened?"

"Don't worry about it, just stay away from him."

"That shouldn't be difficult," she grumbled. Did she have a sign on her forehead demanding to be patronized? "Good to see you, but I've got somewhere to be-"

"Don't go - we've been looking for you! Braig said you woke up, but we got worried when you weren't in the infirmary-"

Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of the sharpshooter. "I was speaking with the king."

"Oh." Lea scratched the back of his head. "That makes sense. Why were you in a coma anyway? No one would tell us anything – it was like you'd disappeared..."

"No one told you?" That wasn't suspicious at all. What purpose would they have for keeping her condition under wraps, especially from two prospective apprentices? It's not as if she had any family here...

Isa shook his head. "No. It was only after Lord Ansem accepted as apprentices that we learned you were comatose. We've visited every day just in case..."

She softened. "Well, I have no qualms about telling you what happened, though it's not particularly exciting. I was trying to help Xehanort unlock his memories using a dangerous keyblade technique, but I messed up somehow and woke up in the infirmary months later."

Their shoulders sagged. "Well... that's a lot less horrible than I imagined. Too bad it didn't put Norty in a coma though," Lea grumbled.

She snorted. "I'm sorry—Norty?" Though Mira would never refer to her master in such a disrespectful manner, it suited the amnesiac perfectly.

Isa nodded. "His name is way too long."

"And weird," Lea added.

"Does he know about his nickname?"

"I think he'd have killed us if he did-"

"How about you save the chit-chat until after you've finished your duties for the day, hm?" came a familiar drawl from somewhere behind them. Heat suffused her cheeks. Before she returned to her room last night, he'd kissed her senseless, making it clear exactly how much he'd missed her.

"Yeah-yeah, what a slavedriver," Lea grumbled, shooting a nasty look at Braig. He glanced at her. "Mira? You good?"

She cleared her throat. "I-uh, yeah. I'm good."

Braig's grin was feral. "You look a little flushed, Princess." He pressed his forehead against hers; his lips were only a breath away. Lea made a retching noise, but Mira paid him no mind. "Hm, no fever," he murmured, gaze alight with mischief.

"You are so embarrassing," she hissed, eyes darting to the boys then back. Isa eyed her curiously while Lea pretended to be violently ill.

"Am I? Well, guess it can't get any worse." He closed the gap between them, sliding a hand around her waist.

"Ahem! Weren't there duties for today, Isa?"

"Yeah. Cut the P.D.A. Braig and let's get going, since you're all about responsibility today."

Mira pulled away, heat crawling up the back of her neck. "Get to work. I... I need some air," she mumbled. "I'll see you later? I need to talk to you about something important."

"You can count on it, Princess." With a nod, he grasped the backs of the boys' uniforms and all-but dragged them further down the hall to attend to whatever tasks they had to complete that day. Mira lingered until they turned the corner, a weak smile tugging at her lips, before she turned and headed in the opposite direction.