With a soft sigh, Sarah turned and made her way back to Sora's house; looked like not everyone could cancel an apocalypse.
Reaching Sora's house's front door, Sarah laughed inwardly as she found herself raising "her" right hand to knock at it. Opening said door instead, Sarah made her way inside and closed it behind her.
"Hey, I'm home!" she called out, hoping that that was at least reasonably close to what Sora himself might say in the same situation.
"Welcome back, Sora dear!" Sora's mom called from the kitchen. "Why don't you go wash up? We're going to be having dinner soon!"
"Thanks, I'll get right to it!" she called back, pleased to know that she would at least be getting a last meal here before the end of this world.
Making her way to the house's bathroom, Sarah washed and dried "her" hands; and was once again supremely grateful that she didn't feel the need to do anything else. When she left the bathroom, hands clean once more after the days activities, Sarah found herself falling into step with a man that looked a lot like what Sora himself would probably look like in twenty or so years.
"Hey, Dad," she greeted easily, since that was obviously who this was.
"Hey, sport," Sora's father greeted the one wearing his son's form.
Sarah ruthlessly strangled a sudden flash of irrational guilt; seriously, her subconscious could be really anal about the weirdest things. It wasn't like anyone who wasn't completely insane, or Nostradamus himself, could have predicted this kind of shit going down.
"I bet you can't wait to have some of your mom's delicious fish, eh Sport?"
"Yeah, I'm really looking forward to it," she said absently.
Zero Hour was looming ever closer, as this day of days inexorably drew to a close.
"Ah, are you thinking about the mayor's adopted daughter again" Sora's father asked, grinning teasingly at who he couldn't help but think was his son. "Kairi, right?"
"Maybe," she said, going for that same, sheepish tone that she figured Sora would use under the same circumstances.
Sora's father laughed heartily. She'd previously noticed that his jaw line was far more square than Sora's own, so it was clear that Sora had inherited his mother's facial-structure.
"There's nothing wrong with that, son," Sora's father – Sarah almost wished she could ask him his name, but that just wasn't going to be possible – said, clapping "her" firmly on the back. "Back when I was your age, I had my first crush, too."
"It was Mom, wasn't it?" she asked, wondering what kind of answer she was going to get.
Sure, this was a Disney-influenced world, but when you came right down to it, these people weren't actually Disney characters. Hell, Sora's father hadn't even been a character at all – a step down even from his wife, who was at least barely a character – and here she was chatting away with him. It was, to say the least, a rather interesting situation.
Sora's father laughed heartily, ruffling Sora's hair as the two of them continued on their way to the kitchen. "Yes, you little scamp; it was your mother."
They arrived at the kitchen just before Sora's father had finished speaking, and Sora's mother turned to look at them from where she was standing at the stove. "What was me, dear?"
"Only the first, and greatest, love of my life," Sora's father stated enthusiastically, striding over to kiss his wife with that same gusto.
Sarah laughed silently, before turning away just enough to give them at least the illusion of privacy.
"Sora, honey? Could you please set the table for us?"
"Sure," she said; she'd already explored the kitchen once, so she at least knew where most of the stuff was.
And really, anyone could see where the drying-rack that held the dishes and other things of that ilk was.
Once she'd finished setting the table, and the rest of Sora's small family had settled down to eat, Sarah noticed yet another difference between the way Sora's family took their meals and the way her own did: at the Williams family dinner table they would have at least had sodas. Fish, especially what tasted like one of the blander kinds like – this planet's equivalent of – cod, never seemed to taste quite as good without it. Soon enough, however, the meal was over and done with and Sora's parents were beginning to clean up the kitchen and set it back to rights.
The two of them laughed softly, the gentle clinking of dishes and the sound of running water letting Sarah know just what it was that they were currently doing, even though "her" back was squarely turned to them in her current position. She wondered idly what they were talking about, and more than that, she wondered about them.
What did the two of them do for a living? What were their hopes for the future, aside from those that every good parent had? What had they sacrificed in pursuit of the life they had now, and did they ever regret any of it?
Those weren't really questions that she could actually ask or hope to have answered, however; more idle speculation to avoid thinking about the fact that she was leaving these people – as kind as they had been to a visiting stranger – to their fates while she made her escape from the impending end of the world.
When she felt someone kissing her on the crown of "her" skull, Sarah looked up to see Sora's mother smiling knowingly – and a bit mischievously, upon closer inspection – down at who she thought was her son. "Don't stay up all night thinking, Sora honey. This may not be a school night, but you're a growing boy, and you still need your rest."
"Okay, Mom," Sarah said, feeling just a bit horrible for the slight twinge of satisfaction that she'd felt at knowing she wouldn't be using those terms again anytime soon. "Good night."
"Good night, Sora honey," Sora's mother said, smiling over her left shoulder as she turned to leave the kitchen.
She held the smile on "her" face until Sora's mother had left the room, then let the expression fall away like the mask it really was.
"Sorry," she muttered, once the room was clear of everyone but her again. Time to go to work, she mused, quickly rising from her seat and making for the fridge.
Gathering up her packed food, as well as the thermoses of milk that she had poured for herself, Sarah shut the door and quickly grabbed the thermos sitting unobtrusively to the right of the fridge itself. With all of her provisions gathered at last, Sarah shifted them so that she had at least one arm free while she made her way back to the kitchen door. Turning off the light as she passed the switch, Sarah was just in time to witness the house being – just barely – illuminated by a sudden flash of light from outside the walls, followed by a muffled boom that let her know just what was coming.
"Fuck!" she snarled.
Zero Hour was upon them, right here and now. She'd expected it to come soon, sure, but she'd expected to have had at least an hour of sleep beforehand. Either she'd miscalculated – always a possibility considering how long it'd been since she'd last played this particular game – or else her presence here was already causing events to slide ever-so-slightly off the rails. She also hadn't watched her favorite playthrough of this particular game in long enough that she'd forgotten the specifics of what happened when.
Having run the rest of the way back to Sora's room, Sarah quickly packed away the rest of her provisions, zipped the pack back up, checked to make sure the duffel was secure enough to withstand some fairly substantial turbulence, slung the pack and duffel combo securely onto "her" back, and hit the window in front of her with a palm-heel strike that had the two halves out of her way quick as anyone could ask for. Vaulting over the sill, Sarah hit the ground running, quickly compensating for the weight of the pack she was working against. Settling down in Sora's boat, she had a quickly-dismissed moment of frustration over the make of said boat.
What she really needed now was a sea-kayak.
Throwing herself fully into the motions of rowing said boat, Sarah left her frustration back on the island as it receded behind her. Leaping out onto the dock, her remaining emotions left behind in the boat, Sarah grabbed an emerging Shadow by the neck and used it as a shield while she bull-rushed the others. She was peripherally aware of the terrain passing by on either side of her as she ran, so she at least knew where and when to turn as she kept going, but most of her focus was taken up by the growing crowds of Heartless as they emerged from the ground around her.
They cleared once she'd pelted across the old bridge to the smallest of the islands, so Sarah tossed the oddly-docile Shadow she'd used to smash her way through the crowds into the drink and continued on her way up to the little idiot who'd had the most immediate hand in their present situation.
"The door has opened, Sora!" said idiot called out, with an enthusiasm that really only served to piss her off more.
"Congratulations," she said, lips pulling back from "her" teeth in an expression that could almost be mistaken for a smile. Riku seemed surprised when "her" fist smashed into his face. "I'm so happy for you."
Well, there it is, she mused, looking up into what remained of the sky. The un-light at the end of the world.
She wondered, for a long few moments, if she'd been given enough time, there was some way she could have prevented this. Still, the groundwork for this particular scenario had probably been laid a long time ago. Really, that was pretty much how these things worked in the first place: everything that looked huge and insurmountable had required innumerable small steps – most of them probably seeming completely harmless when looked at separately – to set up.
"Sarah, it's time," the mysterious voice said, sounding like he was speaking right into "her" ears; or maybe from inside her mind. "You know what's coming now; good luck."
"Yeah," she muttered, pausing for a moment to take in the Keyblade in "her" right hand. "Thanks."
Readjusting the straps of her supply-pack so that the weight was more evenly distributed – even though fighting with an encumbrance was really more something she preferred to avoid – Sarah dashed back across the plank bridge, Keyblade held in a two-handed grip like a Louisville Slugger.
Beating her way through the ranks of Shadows attempting to bear her down under the sheer weight of their ever-increasing numbers, she only briefly registered the fact that the entrance to the cavern where she'd exchanged words with "Ansem" did indeed look like an undersized Stargate, before she threw herself through the false event horizon and ran full-tilt down the tunnel that wound away in front of her.
Slamming "her" left foot down at a slight angle to "her" right to cancel her remaining forward-momentum, Sarah concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply as Kairi – what was left of her, anyway – turned to look back at her.
"Not your fault," the other girl said softly, looking about as sickly as she had in the cutscene.
"I know," she said, as the other girl was pretty much launched at her by a torrent of anti-light that burst right out of the door.
Bracing her stance, turning outward so that she would face her new battlefield when she reached it, Sarah also braced the Keyblade across "her" chest and crouched as she rode the wave of anti-light – or Darkness, or what have you – back out onto what little remained of her current battlefield.
She would have been rather interested, under other circumstances, to observe her surroundings – since this kind of thing wasn't something she'd ever seen before – but these were hardly ideal circumstances for that. Besides, the towering form of the Darkside – Darkside-Mercer again, she noted briefly – let her know that this wasn't the time for sightseeing. Dashing across the crumbling remains of their battlefield, Sarah moved to confront said fuckhuge Heartless.
When it slammed its left hand into the ground, Sarah launched herself forward, clinging with leech-like tenacity to the thing's left thumb, even as she shifted so that she was hanging upside-down from her legs and hence could get a good, two-handed grip on the Keyblade. She whaled on the Darkside after that, beating the ever-loving shit out of its most easily-accessible weakness, until she felt the substance of the gigantic Heartless crumbling away beneath her.
Gravity had fully reversed itself on her at that point, and as she folded "her" body into a neat swan-dive, Sarah could swear – just for a handful of moments – that she was hearing music, too.
As her vision cleared – after a bit too long trying to interpret sensory input that made no fucking sense – Sarah kick-flipped to right herself in the air, as a certain back alley in Traverse Town became all the more easily-distinguishable from every other alley and side-street around it.
Crouching to lessen the impact and improve her own stability as gravity reasserted itself, Sarah pulled out her travel journal and quickly made her first entry for this world.