66. The Get-Along Mission
When Roman and Snatcher returned to their quarters, it was with heavy frustrations. "You do realized there's a good chance he WILL side with his paramour," Snatcher brought up.
"Who he's known for less than a week!" Roman argued. "We have a history! We were there for him when he forgot who he was, and we started my personal record of biggest barfight together!"
"How many barfights did you incite before then?" Snatcher asked out of curiosity.
"More than I can actually remember," Roman admitted, "though drinking myself stupid might be part of why I don't have an accurate count. I still to this day cannot remember exactly HOW the one at Junior's went down. I know I was there, and I know one minute, everything was fine, and the next, there were bullets flying and most of the club got beaten half to death, but I have no actual recollection of how we got from point A to point B. It didn't qualify anywhere near my record, though, so I didn't really care. Anyway, the POINT."
"The point is if Lord Mozenrath doesn't put a leash on those two, our lives are going to become significantly more difficult," Snatcher grumbled.
"You know the worst part of it?" Roman prompted.
"The fact that after both Misters Westergard and Demyx crossed us on separate occasions," Snatcher guessed, "they somehow got of a mind to team up?"
"YES!" Roman groaned. "And now they're going to buddy up all the time because they know they have each other's back."
"Well, until Mr. Demyx makes a mess of Mr. Westergard's personal space," Snatcher brought up.
"Or until Sideburns lets some passive-aggressive comment slip about Dishwater's stupid hair," Roman added. "Oh. Speaking of hair. You might want to see this."
He removed his scroll from his pocket, flipping through its stored images. "So it took a couple tries with Yzma's whole hair-growth potion to restore the natural order," he explained. "At one point, we ended up with this. Which wasn't what I was going for, but it wasn't bad, so I got a couple shots for posterity."
He passed the scroll to Snatcher, who found himself viewing a small digital image of Roman sporting a ponytail that ended down past his shoulders. "Not a bad look either," Snatcher commented. "Though…" He looked up to meet Roman's gaze. "It does only seem right that your hair's returned to its original state. It simply seems more reflective of…well, you." He brushed a hand through the soft orange hair that was the subject of discussion.
"At least THAT'S back to normal," Roman sighed. "Too bad in place of bad hair, I now have a splitting headache, probably caused by proximity to MORONS."
"How I know the feeling," Snatcher replied. "Dealing with an entire town of complete imbeciles gave me an utter plethora of headaches. Fortunately for you, I know how to relieve some of that pain."
"Look," Roman sighed, "on any other day, I wouldn't say no, but I'm really not in the mood for – "
"I didn't mean it as a double entendre," Snatcher clarified. "Though you may want to lie on the bed anyhow."
"Okaaaaaay," Roman replied, baffled. "Gonna trust you on this one."
They proceeded into the bedroom, where Roman lay back on the bed, stretching out to make himself as comfortable as he could despite the throbbing in his forehead. Snatcher gently sat down on the bed's edge beside him, angled to have the best access to Roman's face. "This should see results," Snatcher declared as he leaned in, gently pressing the pad of one pointer finger to each of Roman's temples and beginning to rub slow circles.
"Okay, that feels better already," Roman said breathily.
"Just give it a moment," Snatcher told him as he gradually moved his fingers upward, still making circles but tracing an arc up to Roman's forehead and across, meeting both fingers between his dark eyebrows.
Roman's eyes instinctively shut during the process. "Shit," he muttered after some time. "That's good. Where did you learn to do this?"
"Trial and error on myself," Snatcher answered. "As I mentioned, I was almost constantly plagued with headaches brought on by association with utter idiocy. I was forced to learn how to cure them or have that heaped upon my already substantial collection of complaints."
Roman let out a quiet but long moan. "That is seriously so much better…hey, Archie…what Sideburns said about you…you know I don't buy into that, right?"
"I am aware," Snatcher told him with a slight smile he was well aware Roman couldn't see.
"Seriously," Roman insisted. "You're just…SO hot."
"Perhaps through a subjective lens," Snatcher agreed. "Objectively, we both know better."
"But you – "
"And yet you are aware of what is absolutely not subjective in any way?"
"I'll bite."
"You're quite competent," Snatcher told Roman, "and those who've overlooked your contributions are simply not paying attention. Now, don't speak. I need you not to move that mouth of yours for what's next."
Roman reluctantly complied, silencing himself as Snatcher located the muscles of his jaw on either side and gently massaged them.
Once Snatcher had finished his work, Roman found his head much clearer and free of pain. "I'm now not entirely convinced you don't know some kind of magic," Roman teased as the fingertips left his skin.
"It is all entirely nonmagical," Snatcher replied coyly. "Now, how is your neck?"
"My neck?" Roman repeated. "It's fi – " He suddenly realized the opportunity he was about to pass up. "Actually," he said dramatically, "it is just PAINFULLY tense. You couldn't do something about that too, could you?"
"You've persuaded me," Snatcher replied.
"Actually," a third voice broke in, "I don't think you'll have time for that."
Snatcher nearly fell off the bed; Roman's eyes snapped open as he shot into a sitting position. As they both beheld the person who had materialized in their bedroom, one admonished "LORD MOZENRATH!" while the other snapped "RIGHTY!"
"We have DOORS!" Roman cried. "USE them! KNOCK on them! They get locked for a REASON!"
"Do you REALIZE what you could have been interrupting?" Snatcher growled.
"I do," Mozenrath said casually, "but I obviously didn't. Anyway, I'm going to need both of you to report in to the lab. Now."
"Are…you…SERIOUS?" Roman groaned.
"If…" Snatcher said tentatively. "If you could let us have just…a BIT more time to ourselves…"
"And here I thought you'd be happy," Mozenrath enticed. "I figured out a solution to your Hans and Demyx problem."
Snatcher regarded Mozenrath with suspicion. "I don't like the way you said that."
"I figured as much," Mozenrath sighed. "It's a messy solution. But it is a solution nonetheless. It's also mandatory."
"You're not going to leave until we agree," Snatcher realized.
"This is for your own good as much as it is mine," Mozenrath argued.
"And how much of this is for Sideburns' good?" Roman asked.
"If you have to ask," Mozenrath stated, "you already know. He may not be part of our inner circle, but he is still valuable to me in more ways than one. I thought you two of all people would understand. On that note, I'll be waiting." He vanished in a rain of sparkles.
"You know," Roman suggested, "we could just…not show up."
Snatcher rose to his feet. "If he's got a solution to this little war, I want to at least learn what he has in mind."
"You KNOW it's not going to be what we want," Roman groaned.
"We've got to trust him," Snatcher insisted. "It's gotten us this far."
Roman swung his legs off the bed, then stood, adjusting the latest hat he'd had conjured up by Wuya. "I hate that you're right."
...
By the time Roman and Snatcher arrived in the laboratory, they discovered that Hans and Demyx had also been summoned and awaited their presence alongside Mozenrath.
"Look who finally decided to show up," Hans remarked. "Only took them a million years."
"And they say I'm the lazy one," Demyx laughed.
"Don't make me regret showing up at all," Snatcher growled.
"That's far enough," Mozenrath cautioned. "As I understand it, the four of you have been…in conflict."
"As I understand it," Roman rephrased, "Sideburns and Dishwater have been acting like assholes."
"Me?" Demyx protested. "I'm not the one who chased YOU out of a sweet hideout!"
"IT WAS A PUBLIC GUMMI SHIP!" Roman argued.
"I didn't hear of this incident," Snatcher brought up.
"I…didn't think it was worth mentioning," Roman said quickly. "And I still don't, because the real asshole in the room is the one who GLUED MY HAT TO MY FUCKING FACE."
Demyx couldn't hide a chuckle. "That was funny and you know it."
"You glued his hat to his face?" Hans reiterated. "And I MISSED it?"
"You were bad enough on your own!" Snatcher barked. "The last thing we need is you two teaming up!"
"He has a good sense of humor," Hans argued. "In exactly the way both of you don't."
"I don't appreciate my apparent lack of humor being brought to my attention by having food thrown at me," Snatcher growled.
"THAT'S ENOUGH," Mozenrath broke in. "This is exactly what has been inconveniencing me ever since we all came back from our last missions. Here I was, thinking maybe I would actually do something to relax, and all of a sudden, I have to mediate formal apologies, attend unnecessary council meetings, and come up with new punishments for Demyx. If I didn't know better, I'd think all four of you just didn't want me to get any further in the book I was reading. It's incredibly clear where the sides have been chosen here, though…Hans, I have to say I expected you to pick better backup than HIM."
"Heyyyyy!" Demyx whined.
Hans shrugged. "I don't know what bothers you so much about him. He's good fun."
"Yeah!" Demyx asserted. "I'm good fun!"
"I knew you had to have SOME kind of flaw," Mozenrath sighed. "You were getting too good to be true, Hans."
"The other shoe had to fall sometime," Hans teased.
"Getting back to the point," Mozenrath continued, "I want to show you something."
He stepped aside to reveal the compass sitting in its base, the globe showing off a shining star of a world floating in the cosmos. "I asked it to locate an element of pure Life," he explained. "After conferring with Vexen, I've determined what, exactly, we are looking at. The world you see depicted here is home to the kingdom of Corona. There was some cosmic hullaballoo surrounding the world, and under mysterious circumstances, a literal drop of the sun fell to the earth. Common legend says the sundrop grew as a flower somewhere in that kingdom or near it, and, furthermore, that the flower has the power to heal any ailment. That can only be what we're looking for."
"Our next mission, then," Snatcher deduced. "Locate this sundrop flower and bring it back."
"Correction," Mozenrath said with a sly smirk. "This is YOUR next mission. All four of you. You're going to work together to find that flower and bring it back. And hopefully, along the way, you're going to learn how to GET ALONG."
"Aaaaaand there it is," Roman groaned. "I knew we wouldn't like this."
"Mozenrath," Hans stated, "I know you mean well, but I really think this is going to do more harm than good."
"You think I mean well?" Mozenrath replied. "What I MEAN is to get all four of you off my back so I can have some peace and QUIET."
"I can't guarantee I won't murder Dishwater," Roman stated.
"Oh, how would we ever recover?" Mozenrath replied facetiously.
"I absolutely refuse to work so closely with someone who sullies my good name!" Snatcher emphasized.
"Because 'Archibald Snatcher' is suuuuuch a good name," Hans muttered.
"Look," Mozenrath said coldly, "I'm going to be blunt. I don't intend to threaten you into doing this mission. But if you don't figure out a way to coexist, you four are going to bring this entire operation down in flames, and you all know it. So you can collectively refuse this sentimental bonding experience, or you can take one for the team and maybe, just maybe, find something better to put your energy toward than yelling at each other."
The four he addressed were silent for a moment before Snatcher said at last, "It would be in our best interest to find some sort of resolution to this conflict."
"We do have to live with each other for the rest of the foreseeable future," Hans agreed.
"So you agree to collect the sundrop together?" Mozenrath asked.
He was answered with four murmurs that he interpreted as a reluctant but unanimous "Yes."
"Then off you go," Mozenrath declared.
"To the ship, then?" Snatcher suggested.
"NO," Mozenrath said sternly. "You're not taking the ship. And here's why: because if I send four of you in the ship, only two of you – and I don't know which two – are coming back on it, either with some bad excuse about what happened to the other two or a refusal to offer any explanation at all."
"We'd just leave them in a civilized area for a few hours," Demyx protested. "It'd be funny."
"I can assure you," Snatcher lied, "Torchwick and I would NEVER do such a thing."
Mozenrath just raised his eyebrow in response.
"To those who didn't earn it," Snatcher muttered.
"Let me show you how you're ACTUALLY going to get from world to world," Mozenrath stated. "I assume you all have your scrolls on you, and all are reasonably well charged."
Four quick checks assured Mozenrath was right in that regard.
"In that case…" Mozenrath flourished his right hand, and a Corridor of Darkness appeared in the middle of the laboratory. Mozenrath then quickly popped the compass off its base, holding it out. All four made a grab for it, but Snatcher was quickest.
"Follow me," Mozenrath commanded, striding into the Corridor.
Roman and Snatcher traded angry glares with Hans and Demyx.
"AND NO FIGHTING," Mozenrath's voice called back through the portal.
Hans made to walk through first, but Snatcher shoved him aside roughly and did the honor himself. Not wanting to draw any unneeded scolding from Mozenrath, Hans and Demyx hung back and waited as Roman followed; they then hurried after.
The other side of the Corridor emptied out on a grassy shoreline bordering a body of water. The sun sparkled high overhead in a crystal-clear sky: a sight that got more and more annoying with each day spent on the warship, where no one had to be bothered by such garish light. Across the water, which reflected the sun's light in such a way that Snatcher and Roman found themselves adjusting the brims of their hats to keep their eyes shielded, an island was visible with a pastel-colored civilization built over it, rising up over a great hill in the middle with a towering castle at the very heart. It was almost similar to the layout of Cheesebridge, Snatcher thought, but on a gentler slope and with a much less palatable color scheme. Some distance away from where the quintet stood, a stone bridge connected the island to the mainland, presumably leading to the kingdom's thoroughfare.
"Welcome to Corona," Mozenrath said dramatically, gesturing one arm back out toward the island. Then, dropping the act and the arm, "It's actually worse-looking than I thought."
"Thanks!" Roman added with a false smile. "I hate it!"
"Here are the rules," Mozenrath laid out. "I'm going to go back to base and close the Corridor on you. None of you can leave this world unless I come back to get you. When you have the sundrop in your possession, call me and I'll show up to your location. Call me if you run into anything that is otherwise an emergency, and ONLY an emergency. I'm not going to be happy if you call me just to play mediator. I would like to make actual progress in the book I'm reading by the time you get back. Also, when I do return to bring you all back, there had better be four of you. If one of you 'mysteriously' dies, I'll be able to bring that person back to figure out what really happened. If one of you disappears under circumstances that look like death and I find out they're NOT resurrectable, I'll know shenanigans were pulled."
"Must you think so little of me?" Snatcher grunted. "I wouldn't KILL either of them. Nor falsify their deaths."
There was that eyebrow again from Mozenrath.
"Unless they really, truly deserved it," Snatcher muttered.
"Finally…" Mozenrath's wrist flicked, and he drew a broadsword from the air, passing it to Hans. "You get ONE."
"Understood loud and clear," Hans said with a nod.
"You in particular, I want back in one piece," Mozenrath told him. He leaned in quickly, pressing his lips to Hans' cheek for a mere moment before withdrawing them. He still wasn't used to this at all.
"That was a good incentive," Hans told him. "You're saying I can carve the other three into ribbons, though."
"Why ME now?" Demyx groaned. "I was on your side!"
"Be a good boy, Hans," Mozenrath warned coyly.
"But you fell for me because I'm such a bad boy," Hans argued.
Mozenrath turned to give Corona one last look before surveying all four of those he had chosen. "Well…good luck with…all THIS." He then walked back through the portal of the still-open Corridor, cape billowing before the Corona entrance closed.
"So," Demyx brought up, "Roman, remember when you told me you live by the whole 'snitches get stitches' thing?"
"Not specifically, but that is something I would say," Roman confirmed.
"You realize I know exactly who told Mozenrath every time you got mad at me, right?" Demyx said with a sly grin.
Snatcher could already sense tension building between the two, feeling that if he let this go, it might just get physical. He placed himself between Roman and Demyx, facing the latter; "Now, now. We have our differences to be sure, but this is a case in which it is absolutely crucial we put them aside. Repulsive as the idea may be, we ARE here to work with each other and figure out exactly where our common ground lies. I, for one, am quite willing to give this a chance, but it's moot if the rest of you are dead set on antagonizing each other."
"He's right," Hans stated. "It's now or never if we're going to get over our disagreements."
Bold words from the man who keeps starting the incidents, Snatcher thought, but he kept quiet.
"Which way does the compass say we should go?" Hans asked.
Snatcher withdrew the instrument, noting that its needle pointed directly away from the kingdom of Corona itself. "Hm. That's peculiar."
"Looks like the kingdom isn't even our target," Hans remarked. "We should probably get moving."
"No, we most certainly should not," Snatcher argued. "We've been given a direction, yes, and nothing more. We've got to get a more solid location in mind before setting out. There's bound to be more information regarding this mystic sundrop in the kingdom proper, and we are going to conduct a proper investigation there before making any further move."
"Even though you know that's the wrong way," Hans retorted.
"I am temporarily going the wrong way in order to figure out what, EXACTLY, is the right way," Snatcher clarified.
"Well, I'm not going to argue with that," Hans relented.
"I just know it's going to be a slog either way," Demyx groaned. "Might as well go where we know we can score some food first."
"Lead the way," Roman said encouragingly.
The quartet set out to cross the great bridge that would lead them within Corona's borders.
...
Mozenrath reappeared in the laboratory, pondering his next move. He truly was moved to find some actual method of relaxation, against all of his previous record. The book he'd found detailing the Cyclonian wars of the past still called him, and he contemplated simply teleporting back to his room to read until he got tired. Yet there was a small part of him that cried out for something more physically demanding, and so he decided to at the very least walk back to his room to get that out of his system.
As he departed the laboratory, he crossed paths with the Huntsman. The latter seemed rather inexplicably determined, heading for some destination at a quick pace. After observing this, Mozenrath stopped caring about whatever it was the Huntsman was actually thinking.
He probably should have been quite concerned with the Huntsman's thought process and goal at that particular moment.
The next person Mozenrath encountered, some time later, was Scarlet Overkill, who was in the act of sticking a flyer for the improv troupe onto the wall with putty. "Mozenrath!" she greeted. "Any interest in joining the newly founded WHAM ARMY improv troupe?"
"Absolutely zero," Mozenrath replied, slowing down just enough for her to catch the answer.
She began to walk beside him, a sheaf of flyers in hand. "We had a pretty good turnout for our first run," she explained.
Mozenrath debated asking her why she thought he cared, but found he didn't really have the drive for it. She would go away on her own when he reached his room, and hearing her out wasn't so bad. Besides, it was good to know what was going on elsewhere in his domain.
"It actually would have been a GREAT meeting if Snatcher, Roman, Demyx, and Hans hadn't gotten into that enormous fight," Scarlet lamented. "But we got all four of them plus Irmaplotz and Herb, and now that I know what NOT to put in the bowl, things should go a lot smoother next time."
"I hate to tell you this," Mozenrath replied, realizing it would be relevant, "but I just put half your troupe on a mission for an unspecified amount of time."
"Whaaaaat?" Scarlet groaned.
"Snatcher, Roman, Demyx, and Hans have to learn to get along," Mozenrath said with a shrug. Perhaps he cared about this subject after all. "So I set them on course to find the next element required for our spell and told them not to come back until they found it. And, hopefully, they should figure out how not to kill each other along the way. In the meantime, any and all skirmishes that break out between them is going to take place very far away from us."
"Huh," Scarlet replied. "That's actually a pretty good idea. It does take the improv crowd down in numbers, though. You can't really do improv games with only three people. Are you SURE you don't have any interest?"
"Scarlet Overkill," Mozenrath told her confidently, "I have always hated improvising."
"Well, geez," Scarlet commented, "you don't like singing, you don't like dancing, you don't like improv…"
"I tolerate singing now," Mozenrath argued, with higher spirits than he would have expected. "And Hans showed me the brighter side to dancing."
"Still," Scarlet prompted, "what do you actually LIKE to do?"
"Work on my next goal," Mozenrath answered.
"For FUN," Scarlet clarified.
"I have a good book," Mozenrath told her.
"Okay, here's a challenge," Scarlet posed. "Name something you actually like to do that involves other people. If you name something good, we can actually arrange it for later today."
"Well," Mozenrath mused, "I suppose it would have to be something intellectual. Something like…"
The idea struck him. "Actually, I know exactly what I would do."
...
Scarlet had approved of Mozenrath's idea, and once it was on the table, both agreed it would be an entertaining pursuit, even more so than catching up on Cyclonian history. They arranged the event, and within a couple hours, everyone save for the Huntsman (who was still occupied with business unknown) and the four Mozenrath had sent to Corona had gathered in the karaoke room to find the stage adorned with a plain table, giant plasma screens hanging from the ceiling that displayed the table from above and head-on, and a blackboard on the back wall that had the names of all present arranged in a bracket.
"WELCOME TO THE FIRST EVER WHAM ARMY CHESS TOURNAMENT!" Yzma declared, dressed in black-and-white referee stripes for the occasion.
"We're going to find out who will be crowned ultimate chess champion," Wuya added, wearing similar. "The rules are simple: matches proceed according to the bracket."
"There will be intermissions between each match," Yzma added. "Enough for strategizing and collecting sustenance."
"Matches that end in stalemates will be restarted," Wuya went on. "No ties. Only victors and losers."
"Now GIVE US A BIG CHEER!" Yzma cried.
"WOOOOO!" Irmaplotz and only Irmaplotz cried.
"It's chess," Scarlet said loudly. "It's not really a cheering thing."
"What loser decided this was a good idea?" Garfield muttered to Peter.
"The loser that lets you live in his base free of charge," Mozenrath whispered to Garfield from the other side.
As Garfield flinched, Mozenrath told him, "If you people could get me used to karaoke night, I'm going to get you used to this."
"For our first match!" Yzma cried. "Drumroll please!"
Wuya conjured a drum set for the express purpose of playing the roll. When she hit the cymbal, Yzma yelled, "MOZENRATH VERSUS SNIPE!"
"I probably should have proofed this bracket before it went official," Mozenrath sighed as he made his way to the stage.
At least, he thought as he saw Snipe approaching from the opposite end of the stage, this should be an easy win. Both took their seats, staring each other down across the table.
"You HAVE played chess before, haven't you?" Mozenrath asked to clarify.
"Of course I have!" Snipe barked. "What, do you think I'm STUPID?"
"No comment," Mozenrath replied smugly. He gestured to Snipe's half of the board; "White goes first."
"Hmmm." After surveying his pieces, Snipe lay his hand on the knight, moving it to another square.
"That's not how the knight moves," Mozenrath informed him.
Snipe edged the knight a square forward.
"That is also not how the knight moves," Mozenrath stated.
Snipe swapped the knight's place with a pawn.
"Still not how the knight works," Mozenrath grunted.
What followed was a match the viewing of which was akin to watching one's taxes get filed by a professional. It took Snipe half an hour to even get the hang of moving the pieces correctly; once that had been accomplished, he seemed fixated on getting his pawns from one end of the board to the other while Mozenrath swept his larger pieces into captivity. Mozenrath finally learned his angle when Snipe placed a pawn in the starting square for Mozenrath's rook, declaring, "KING ME!"
"You do realize this is chess," Mozenrath sighed. "Not checkers."
"Same difference!" Snipe argued.
"The worst part is you're only partially wrong," Mozenrath groaned as he swapped Snipe's pawn for the queen Mozenrath had stolen earlier.
Mozenrath soon had Snipe's king surrounded, and Yzma filled his name in the next spot on the bracket.
...
The Huntsman had taken Snatcher's words to heart. It would do him good to compare his past successes and failures, those he had undergone as part of the Huntsclan, to those he had undergone with the WHAM ARMY. That would give him the answer as to what did him the most good.
Unfortunately, he found his lens to the past clouded by bias. There was the matter of his own death, of the Huntsgirl and her betrayal, of the memories he'd made with his new allies ever since Mozenrath had pulled him from the abyss. He needed to find out anew which was better: working with the WHAM ARMY or controlling his own faction made up of like-minded individuals who were not friends.
There was no one else in the Gummi hangar when he approached the ship. He hadn't let anyone know he was undertaking this quest, and he preferred it stay a secret. Once the results had been tallied, he would then announce his decision to the others.
Settling in the pilot's seat, he ignited the ship's engine. The course set was for his homeworld. That was where he could best replicate his past career. There was no Huntsclan left, but he knew it would be easy to locate those who had encountered the magical underworld and harbored desires to destroy pieces of it.
The ship careened away from the base.
If this venture didn't go well, he would return to the WHAM ARMY and rethink his position, perhaps rescind some of his harsher words. But if he succeeded on his own with a greater margin of victory than he collected with the WHAM ARMY, he would cut what he considered dead weight by abandoning the WHAM ARMY to fly solo once and for all.
...
During his time lying on the floor of the Gummi ship, Kazuichi Soda learned quite a few things, as the people who made up his rescue party had taken the opportunity to introduce themselves in brief and explain their situations.
Sora and Riku were wielders of some kind of sword called the "Keyblade." Kazuichi wasn't sure he understood the concept fully, but it seemed to be a big deal, and the fate of many worlds revolved around these swords, even though Riku had recently lost his. They had been traveling worlds for the longest out of anyone aboard the ship. They were also lovers, which answered the biggest question on Kazuichi's mind whenever he met someone new (that question being "Who do you like?" or alternatively "Who are you going for?").
Ruby was in training to be a huntress, even though the school that was teaching her the art had been torn apart by a league of people Kazuichi couldn't help but compare to the Ultimate Despairs. She had been part of a team of friends, but upon the school's destruction, that team had disbanded. That was a shame as far as Kazuichi was concerned. His feelings on friendship had been complicated over the years, but he knew all too well how much it hurt to lose the friends you were closest to. If Ruby didn't still talk up Weiss, Blake, and Yang as being so good, Kazuichi might have developed a little grudge against them for abandoning her.
Papyrus had lived underground for most of his life before a child had given his people a way to pass into the world above and live among humans. He also claimed to have been incredibly popular, with legions of fans and a close group of friends even before meeting any of the others aboard the ship. Even though this was something Kazuichi had only very recently said a variant of to describe himself, and he should have known better, he took this statement at face value and believed it.
Stork was a pilot who ferried around a group of teenage heroes in a world where the ground was dangerous. This team – no, squadron – had recently won a war against an evil empire. None of this actually answered what Stork was, physically. Kazuichi knew he wasn't human, but didn't have any frame of reference for what he might actually be. Partway through Stork's story, however, he abandoned the question entirely, figuring he wouldn't get an answer and it wasn't all that relevant anymore anyway.
Jasmine and Aladdin were royalty on their homeworld. Kazuichi found this interesting, wondering if they would get along well with Sonia because of this and if they made better or worse heirs to the throne than Sonia. Sonia had blown her chance by usurping her throne by force and taking on the role of despot before Makoto had brought her back to her senses, and both Aladdin and Jasmine seemed quite nice, expressing a desire to only do what was best for their people. Still, it seemed to go against nature for Kazuichi to think anyone could be better royalty than Sonia.
Katara was able to control water in an art she insisted wasn't magic. She too had been responsible for the fall of an evil empire, though in the end, the empire wasn't so much evil as the emperor (or "Fire Lord") and Katara was actually friends with the current leader. She was in the beginning stages of a relationship with the heroic Avatar Aang, though why she would pick him over a literal prince like Zuko, Kazuichi didn't quite understand. It was the gender-reversed version of his own situation.
All in all, they sounded like good people. And the more they went on, the more Kazuichi was inclined to trust in them and believe they were telling the truth. Who would bother making up all of these elaborate backstories just to cover a sinister truth? They all treated Kazuichi with kindness – he could even sense it behind Stork's distrust, which he found he sympathized with, even when it was turned against him. They all had booming, colorful personalities, not unlike those of the other members of Class 77. In short, after hearing them talk, Kazuichi realized he wanted to be friends with them.
It was Hajime who had taught him how to trust in friends again. An incident, long before Junko or even Hope's Peak, had shattered his faith in the concept of friendship, as the person closest to him had left him burned over something as petty as a school exam. He had carried that burden for years, thinking that getting too close to someone would eventually lead to betrayal no matter what. It was one of the facets that Junko had learned about and exploited to bring out his dark side, convincing him that he could never make any true friends and the rest of the world was only lying in wait to become his enemies. In Neo World, however, he had grown ever closer to Hajime, and it was that relationship that inspired him to open his heart again and let others inside. Others like Akane and Fuyuhiko. Sonia had always occupied part of his heart to some extent, even during the phase when Junko had dragged him further down by telling him Sonia would never love him (and Junko had claimed she, in fact, did and was willing to fill that void), but he had only really thought she could be a true friend after Hajime paved the way.
Now he was ready to let even more people in. He was growing ever more attached to this group, and he realized he would be honored if they would let him in. They already seemed to be amazing friends with each other, and Kazuichi found himself wishing he could be part of that.
"What about you, Kazuichi?" Ruby asked. "Are you feeling up to telling your story?"
He tried to sit up, open his mouth. The bile backed up in his throat, and all he managed was a quick "Talking is no" before thudding back down into a lying position, hands clamped over his mouth, unable to speak for himself.
"It's all right," Jasmine reassured him. "We can wait."
It was probably for the best, he thought. Because the moment he let on about his past as an Ultimate Despair, he knew the dream would be over. These really were heroes, doing good and striking down evil where it stood. Kazuichi had built instruments of murder and worked to bring about the destruction of his own world. He wanted to belong with these people. But he knew he didn't. They would cast him aside once they knew. And perhaps that was just the best he deserved.
...
Leon, Cid, Aerith, Yuffie, Ienzo, Lea, Aeleus, and Merlin stood in a circle in the castle chapel. Had they known of how Maleficent and her companions used to stand in the exact same formation in that location, they might have been too chilled to use it in the same manner. As it were, however, they simply went about business.
Kairi arrived moments after they had begun meeting. "You wanted to see me?" she reiterated as she tentatively stepped into the room.
Aerith and Yuffie moved aside to make room for her. "We're glad you could join us," Aerith stated.
"We were just discussing the matter of security we're now facing," Leon explained.
"Security?" Kairi repeated.
"Those Mozenrath fuckwits got the better of us," Cid reminded her. "We ain't gonna let that happen again."
"We were discussing the measures that must be taken to stop similar incidents from occurring in the future," Ienzo stated.
"To make a long story short," Leon clarified, "we all think maybe we've got enough people living in this castle. We got in trouble because we kept our doors open. If we want to protect ourselves, we have to close them to anyone else new who wants to come knocking."
"But that's not fair!" Kairi cried. "What about the people who need our help?"
"Then we'll help 'em," Lea stated, "but we won't let 'em in, and we sure ain't tellin' 'em our life story."
"What about Jumba, Pleakley, and Lilo?" Kairi reminded them all. "They saved Disney Castle because we let them in! They saved US from the data Organization!"
"There wouldn't have been a data Organization if we hadn't let Archibald and his minion into the grounds," Ienzo brought up.
"It sounds harsh," Aerith agreed. "I wasn't a fan of the idea either. But it's the only way we can truly be safe."
"Lock up the doors and throw away the key!" Yuffie agreed.
"I don't like this," Kairi argued. "I know it's the only way we can be sure to be safe…but maybe sometimes, we have to risk our safety to help someone else. There's going to be a time when someone is going to need to shelter with us for real, and we can't just turn them away."
"That sounds nice on paper," Leon told her, "and maybe it would work in an ideal world, but we did almost lose everything because we trusted the wrong people."
"We will need an emissary," Merlin stated. "Someone who can take our ruling as Committee and distribute it throughout the other residents of the castle. You have great diplomatic skill, young lady. Perhaps you can pass on our word!"
Kairi looked desperately around at the faces of the Committee. All were set in their decision. "Then…I will," she sighed. "I'll tell them all. I just…feel like this is going to go wrong."
"It won't go wrong," Cid told her. "It's not like that many new people even turned up on our door lookin' to be saved anyway. Last few just showed up 'cause they wanted to help. And now, no one else gets to play hero. We got the positions filled."
Before Kairi could say anything further, Mickey burst into the room. "Sora's back!" he announced. "We all spotted his ship flyin' in over town!"
"Sora!" Kairi cried; "Riku!" She turned and bolted from the room, following Mickey.
"It will be good to see him again," Aerith commented. "I wonder how his mission went. Or perhaps, more accurately, it was Ruby's mission."
"It was them!" Yuffie laughed. "Do you even have to ask? You know they rocked it!"
The Committee filed out of the chapel.
The moment the Gummi ship touched down, Kazuichi stumbled out of it and let the contents of his stomach spill onto the side of the street. Stork, the next to descend from the ship, remarked, "I wouldn't want to trade places with whoever gets to clean that up."
By the time all had disembarked from the ship, the entire Radiant Garden contingent had arrived, with Mickey, Donald, and Goofy in the lead. "SORA!" Donald and Goofy cried, launching themselves at the brunette.
"DONALD! GOOFY!" Sora laughed as they tackled him and bowled him over in a tight hug, which Sora gladly returned. "I missed you guys!"
Mickey approached Riku, extending his right hand; Riku eagerly clasped it. "It's good to see ya, pal!" Mickey laughed.
"Same here," Riku said with a smile.
Kairi made her way into the fray. "How was the mission?" she asked.
"Weeeeeellll…" Sora, back on his feet, scratched the back of his head. "We didn't exactly…find Cinder."
"Mozenrath beat us to her," Riku explained, "and stole a powerful magic from that world while he was at it."
"I'm starting to think going after Cinder instead of him was the wrong move," Ruby admitted.
"We can't let him keep getting out of hand," Aladdin asserted.
"How were things back here?" Sora asked.
"You missed a lot," Kairi told him. "We'll all have to catch up in the library. It sounds like you have a lot to tell us, too."
That was when Kazuichi stood, stance somewhat wobbly, and declared, "Okay…I think I'm good now."
"Um…Sora? Riku?" Kairi asked, her eyes – as were the eyes of everyone else who'd come to greet – fixed on this apparent stranger. "Who is that?"
Sora stepped back to Kazuichi's side, using one arm to pull Kazuichi in close to him. "This is our new friend Kazuichi!" he explained. "We almost couldn't get back home, but he saved us!"
"He was almost a victim of Xehanort," Riku went on. "We saved him as much as he saved us."
"We just figured he could stay with us for a while!" Sora declared.
Kazuichi looked out over the sea of faces that regarded him. Slowly putting up a hand and forcing Sora to relinquish his grip by doing so, he let out an "Uh…hi?"
The members of the Committee traded looks. Already it looked like their new doctrine was facing a complication.