La Cité des Cloches

The Cathedral Notre Dame

The practice of prayer was such a foreign concept to the Heartless and to the Nobody, that they didn't even recognize it in the gestures and the practice of the locals of this world when they meandered around the interior of the beautiful Notre Dame Cathedral.

Granted, Kuro had never prayed for or to anything in his life, and the closest idea he held to a heavenly body that guides the lives of people to their fated end would be the concept of Destiny, and Barret gave Kuro a very specific idea of how one should approach any kind of Destiny. Namely, Destiny could and should be disregarded in the name of deciding one's own fate. If the Heartless were to acknowledge, or at the very least notice and ignore, a God, then it would be Destiny.

It never occurred to Xion to pray for or to anything. The Organization had no interest in such activities, and her schedule never had a break long enough to consider an activity such as that. When Xion thought of some divine being, the answer was very clearly pointed to the collective fruit of all of her and her Organization's labors, the living and beating heart of Kingdom Hearts. An omnipotent, incandescently beautiful and celestial power that is made up of all the good, the just and built out of the light? Clearly, if she were to have a God, it would be Kingdom Hearts.

The pair walked through the nearly silent cathedral side by side, the French Gothic architecture meant there were towering supports of stone that lead into arrow pointed arches, walls adorned with beautiful glass pieces that were captivating to the eye, rows and rows of pews that faced the podium towards the back of the church. Candelabras that stretched to fit several dozen lit candles lined the walkways to guide souls throughout the massive church. Statues depicting holy saints, the Messiah, and his mother situated in corners and stone inlets, each themselves illuminated by candle light.

The huge stained glass rose windows along the high walls had bathed the floors in translucent shades of graceful golds, breathtaking blues and radiant reds. The walls that weren't housing stained glass portraits of the Messiah and his many deeds and trials, provided images of various saints in humble garb and held in their gaze sympathetic eyes. As if to comfort the souls that found themselves requesting intervention during their tribulations.

Along the ceiling of the massive structure were these pillars of solid wood and iron buttresses that supported the roofs and in turn had suspended the great bells and housed the elusive Hunchback, which Kuro was determined to see and hoped they were ok. The Festival was a disaster for him, and Kuro couldn't help but feel empathy for the man who seemed to be truly happy and to have it swiftly stolen from him in the same hour. Kuro's sympathy rested in the recognition of having something and losing it so quickly, as he had felt a similar way when he thought of Kairi and Xion, who he shared brief moments with before ending up alone.

Kuro walked gently along the back of the pews, his eyes glancing over the townspeople resting on their knees on short cushioned benches and their elbows resting on the backs of the pew ahead of them. Their hands clasped together and their foreheads pressed sternly into the interlaced hands. Kuro thought they must've been easing out of a headache, recalling his own pains with throbbing headaches and the need for silence and darkness. Particularly after nights of rough combat. Xion thought they must've been submitting to the powers that be, given their submissive behaviors and vulnerable position. It reminded her of the way Dusks and other lesser nobodies would surrender to their superiors. Their heads bowed and abided by the orders of the numbered Nobodies up unto their deaths.

"What are they doing?" Kuro asked Xion, who offered an unknowing shrug as an answer. The two of them tried to ignore the murmurings of the patrons, their utterings for wealth, for love, and for health sounded very personal.

Kuro saw a quick flicker out of his peripheral, glancing over to see a man in sanctified white robes, in his hands a tall candle snuffer walking along the edges of the seats. The lopsided or improperly melting candle was soon snuffed by the bell shaped snuffer, his translucent white hair smooth and combed along the sides of his head. He saw the two as he walked, giving them both a sweet smile.

"Oh, why hello, children. I'm the Archdeacon of Notre Dame." The man approached, offering a slight bow to both Kuro and to Xion, his feet still carrying him along and his eyes inspecting the candles he passed. His grin was sincere, and exuded a warmth that was as comforting as the sunlight that beamed through the glass above. "Pleasure to meet you both. Come here to pray? Avoid the rambunctious crowds outside?"

"What is that, 'pray?'" Xion asked, her hands folding together and resting along her hips as she stared inquisitively at the holy man. Kuro nodded with her question, also wondering what a 'pray' was. The man squinted his eyes in confusion for a brief moment, before taking a short breath and glancing over to the pews and to the statue of the Pietà, depicting the Virgin mother cradling the body of her son, who was surrounded by angelic cherubs. Her eyes were focused on the heavens, as if to plead for them to return her fallen child to her. However, her own son's eyes were not focused on the skies above as his mother's were but were staring off towards the congregation. Signifying that the suffering was meant for them, as he had purposely taken their stead for their sins. Fixed behind them was the golden hued cross, which towered over the pair of them, calling attention to the instrument of torture that he had done in the name of and done in the love he held his flock. The Bishop mumbled a grateful prayer, before he turned to the two. He thoughtfully wondered how to explain what prayer was to them, before he then nodded solemnly.

"Well, to pray? To pray? Well… it is to give thanks or to ask for support from God. It's your opportunity to speak to the divine, to the holy, to bask in the light that surrounds all of us. That guides us. It's a lot like…making a wish. You're wishing for the light to bless you and those you love." The Archdeacon explained, before offering another bow and continuing along his way. Kuro and Xion shuffled out of his way, before taking a seat in the very last pew in the row facing the massive organ and podium. Kuro's hands folded together and rested in his lap, Xion sitting beside him with her hands pressed flatly to the bench seat between them. Both of them staring up towards the huge stained glass window depicting a man, with an impassioned stare and outstretched arms. Kuro and Xion stared at the man, Xion's eyes narrowing and Kuros' head crooked to the side, each of them wondering in their own way what the man was doing with his arms like that. Xion was reminded of the dominating presence of Xemnas, and the power held in their position and strength. Kuro was reminded briefly of the Seeker of Darkness, their arms outstretched in the name of challenge within the hour of his birth.

Kuro glanced down at Xion's hand, with her palm to the wood and a few inches from his leg. He trails up her arms to her slender shoulder, taking in the profile of her face. Her smooth cheek, round chin, dazzling ocean blue eye and midnight sky black hair. He huffs, turning back to her hand.

He thought of the rage he felt when he destroyed that statue of the lovestruck dogs back in Traverse Town before he recalled how joyful it was to be around her and how easy it was to be alive. How truly quiet the nights had been and had gotten in the vacant air of her voice and of her laughter. How dark the nights could be so bleak when not basking in the light of her smile. Kuro's hands clenched into fists, and he let out a hesitant groan.

"I waited for you. You know?" His voice cracked and broke the silence that was left between them. He watched the expression on Xion's face, to gauge her reaction. He imagined she would get upset, maybe even aggressive with his words. But he saw her eyes dimmed as though a dark cloud passed across the sky and blocked the sun, that thin smile on her face faltered into a flat affect, and her gaze shifted from the stained glass to the floor beneath them. "Where did you go, Xion?"

"My fr… The other keyblade wielder collapsed while out on a mission. He's been asleep for a long time and he hasn't woken up since. It's been ten days now. I don't know when he'll wake up." Xion stated, her mind biting back at her for thinking she could call Roxas her friend. It had been a thought of hers, wondering if her and Roxas were friends. She certainly thought they were friends. They had eaten ice cream together, 'icing on the cake' as he so happily called it. But Roxas was friends with Axel, who was still stationed at C.O and probably hasn't been to see him. She couldn't replace his friend, even if she tried. Xion took her hands together, her finger tips pressing against one another and she felt her hands become taut as she applied more pressure. She felt her jaw clench, her eyes growing more unfocused as she continued. Transfixed by the pressure held in her hands. "I have been out on missions every single day, sometimes two per day to try and stay on schedule and try to lessen the load. It's been a cycle of slaying Heartless, engaging in recon like now, and finding the time to sleep. That's why I haven't… I wanted to… I just-"

"I see." Kuro's voice was despondent, seeing her hands slowly fall into her lap, her shoulders slouching and her eyes now half lidded. He leaned forward, resting his elbows along his knees as he stayed focused on her. He saw the way her posture was improper, her eyes held an empty stare and her glove trembled when not bound into fists or pressured by their sister. Kuro knew what she was feeling well. "You're tired… Xion."

"I think I am…" She whispered, turning her head properly to face him. Those gentle blue eyes of hers reflected the hundreds of candles that were present around the room. They shone with a glow that made him feel this strong yearning to help her. Kuro offered a nod in return, before turning back to the mother holding her fallen child.

Kuro glanced to his hands, staring at the leather gloves that replaced his white binding wraps when he had come to this world. The white had faded considerably from when he first wrapped them up, first from the dirt and grime that covered every surface of Merlin's world and his leather now shone with the sleek wet of alcohol and the faded stain of blood from the man he had tackled and punched earlier that day. He can't seem to avoid it, his hands getting dirty.

The doors opened to the church and were quickly shut, but Kuro paid them no mind. Neither did Xion. They both settled in the peace of the other's company. In the near silence of the cathedral.

Esmerelda, after some quick footed dodging and assistance from a more than entertained crowd, had managed to evade the guards and find herself inside the sanctity of Notre Dame. Her breath was heavy and found it difficult to try to relax. She walked over towards the pews, her hands combing through her thick hair as she let out a full body sigh.

A series of footsteps came towards her, her hands coiled into fist she prepared to defend herself on hallowed grounds. The Archdeacon stopped mid step, his approach towards her during this moment of reprieve seemed to have startled her. Raising his hands to placate the distressed woman, offering her a smile with a gentle bow instead of another step. She hesitantly offers the gesture back, her eyes cautiously focused upon the door.

"Good day, Ma'am." He said with a gentle tone, before seeing her cast her eyes off to the doors of the Cathedral. Sensing her anxious thoughts, he slowly moved alongside her, guiding her further into the building with the draw of his hand. She wordlessly followed, placing herself as far away from the door as possible. "It's alright, my dear. You have sanctuary in this place. No one can harm you here. I assure you."

"There isn't a place in the world that assures me of that." She stated plainly, and before shaking her head and bellowing out a sign of discontent. She cocked her head towards the Archdeacon, who laced his fingers and listened to her. Even leaning in, offering his undivided attention. "Didn't you see that ugly display out there? How they mocked that poor boy, and tortured to hurt him? I mean, that Judge-"

"Frollo is… a complicated man." The Archdeacon spoke with a great stress placed on the word, 'complicated'. That word carries with it baggage of a history that might've been too layered to discuss now with Esmerelda. He nodded his head, before nodding his head once more. "You can't save the world alone, child."

"If it wasn't me, then who would it have been? No one out there was willing to help…" Esmerelda noted, her eyes glancing over to the pews, seeing a silver haired fellow sitting alongside a black haired girl. She recalled the tension of the rope around the poor man's neck loosening, a scream that drew her attention as that very same fellow crashed his fist into the man who had gotten the noose around Quasimodo's neck. That stranger who then charged into a pair of men and tackled them both to the ground. All in the apparent struggle to assist the poor Bell ringer. Her lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Well… almost no one."

"Well, no one out there may have thought to help." The Archdeacon's eyes glanced over walls, eyes focused on the ceiling as he continued to saunter around the nave. "Perhaps there is someone here who could help."

He walked on past to her, continuing his mission to watch the candles for any outliers. Esemerlda walked along the walkway, leading her to the statue of a Saint making the gesture of peace, holding an innocent child in his arms. Her hands closed together in a dignified way, her head bowing in the presence of the blessed saint. The doors to the cathedral open once again, the heavy stomps of boots echoing through the nave. She opened her mouth to speak, only to feel a presence over her shoulder. She turns around, and feels the cold metal of armor brush her shoulders. She shoves the armored soldier back, seeing him stumble back and place a hand upon his pushed chest. He was clad in shining golden armor, his hair only a few shades lighter than his pauldrons and breastplate, with his strong chin layered in a smooth and evenly shaved goatee.

"Sorry. Sorry." He says quickly, giving her a wide tooth grin as he meets her now furious gaze. Her eyes cut through him, making him laugh nervously as he continues to meet her stare. "My mistake. It looked like you were praying, and didn't want to disturb you."

"Consider me disturbed, Soldier." She states with venom, her eyes aglow with anger as she straightens her back crossing one arm over the other. "Now, leave me alone."

"Why, that's a pleasant hello for the Captain of the Guard." The soldier noted with a teasing tone, his eyes softening as he offered her a slight bow of the head. "I'm Phoebus… it means 'Sun God'."

The Captain couldn't help but add that last bit of trivia with a smug smile and a nonchalant raising of his eyebrows. As if playing off how unimpressive it is for him to be named as such. Esmerelda rolls her eyes in an unimpressed way, even if her smile grew almost impressed by the arrogance that radiated off of the Captain. So impressed with himself. She opened her mouth to speak again, only for a voice to undercut her just as the words rolled up out of her throat.

"Excellent work, Captain." Frollo's words were laced with contempt, a wiry smile gracing his lips. He nodded his chin towards the woman, then his eyes back to the Captain. "Now, arrest her."

"Claim Sanctuary. I can't arrest you if you do." Phoebus requested her to do under his breath, leaning in so that she can only hear him. When all she does is glare at him, he curses slightly under his breath before turning to the Judge. He opened his mouth and his voice came out in a thundering declaration. "She claimed Sanctuary. She cannot be arrested, Master Frollo."
"Then drag the trollop off of this sacred ground by her hair and arrest her outside, Captain!" Frollo's words came out harsh, his lips pulled back in a furious frown. His hands pulled into fists underneath his billowy sleeves of his robes, staring grimly at the dark haired woman. "As God as my witness-"

"That is quite enough!" The Archdeacon interrupted, stepping between the captain and the judge, arms folded across his chest. "You will respect the sanctity of this lady's respite, Judge. You will. Now, if there is anything else…"

The Judge, with a wave of his hand, issued off his guards to exit the church. The marching of their feet echoing in the halls. While the Archdeacon spoke to Captain Phoebus, the Judge slinked off behind a pillar as soon as he was out of sight. The Captain, respecting the order of the holy man, was ushered out of the church with a simple guiding hand. His eyes took a passing glance over at Esmerelda before marching out through the front doors. The Archdeacon gave a respectful bow to the woman, before walking off to attend to his duties. Esmerelda turned towards the Pietà, admiring the craftsmanship presented in the work of art.

That's when she felt a hand paw at her wrist, pulling her arm back and locking it behind her back. The muscle in her arm straining and becoming taut as she feels the other hand of this aggressor around her throat. Spindly, pointed nails dragging across her throat and a sharp pointed thumb tracing the edges of her chin.

"You think you've outsmarted me?" Frollo whispers against her ear, the verberation of his voice against her neck causing her hair to stand on end, goosebumps race over her arms and have her voice get caught in her throat. "I'm a patient man… I always get what I want, eventually."

His lips graze the edges of her earlobe with each word, his hooked nose tickled by the brushing of her hair against his face. His eyes rolled back in desire, as he quickly pressed his face deep into her ebony locks and sucked in a harsh breath through his nose. Savoring the smell of spices and perspiration from her earlier display. Esmerelda's eyes grew wide, her body becoming rigid and her teeth gnashing together when she felt the inhale and his body stiffen against her..

"What are you doing?" Her voice crawled out of her, dragging deep disgust with every word. Her body shifts and tries to get out of his grip, her skin feeling as though fire pikes were pressed to her throat and an unyielding iron cuff her forearm. She felt trapped, and it made her stomach drop.

"I am just imagining…" The Judge's coveted prayer against her skin was interwoven with a desire that made Esmerelda's skin crawl. His fingers gently traced over the muscles in her throat, his thumb dragging slowly under her chin before fiercely gripping her neck. Wringing it with his wrinkled hand. "A rope around that beautiful neck of yours."

"I know just what you are imagining." Esmerelda's body rocked and moved against him, trying to break the grip that the Judge had on her. However, she found his hands gripped her with an unforeseen strength. He refused to lessen his hold of her.

"Such a clever witch… attempting to cloud my mind with unholy thoughts." The Judge's voice became hoarse and rolled in a low and heated hush. It sounded as though he struggled to keep hold of his humanity, leashing his barely contained savage lust. "Damnation will come for you, eventually. One step outside these walls… and you're mine."

"That's enough." Frollo's eyes darted, his hands dropping to his sides immediately as he sidestepped away from Esmerelda. Kuro's strut placed him between Esmerelda and Frollo. The pale features of the minister almost shone in the dark of the cathedral, whereas Kuro's sunset stare beamed through the shadows and honed in on the Judge with a malicious intent. "Leave her alone."

Frollo's eyes combed over the Heartless, noting now both remarkable and dubious it was to see this once middling concern crawl from the darkness and root itself onto his world.

"Why, aren't you the stalwart knight?" Frollo oozes sarcasm with a hostile tone punctuating it. Kuro clutches his fists tightly, eyes aglow with fury. "Pretend, if you must preserve your own ego. But I know what you are. You can't hide it from God… or me."

"Do I look like I'm hiding?" Kuro's voice came out harshly, as he settled his heels into the floor. Refusing to relent and cower. Kuro's eyes cross over the Minister, feeling an alarming plume of Darkness echo out from the Judge. Frollo's huff out of reluctant regard, contemplating the stupidity or this misguided bravery that this demon must have to find shelter in the house of God. His eyes glanced over at Xion as he spoke again, noting her dark hair and her tender blue eyes.

"Do yourself a favor, dear. Be alert and of sober mind. The Devil prowls around like a ravenous beast, looking for someone to devour." Frollo's eyes cut over towards Kuro as he described the pursuit of the Devil, his nefarious glare meeting Kuro's orange scornful stare. The two exchange looks of discord and disdain, Kuro staring up at the towering, gangly Judge. The Judge postured over the younger man, with shoulders pulled back and nose held high. "Stay in the light of the faith, pray for protection and be ever on your guard. This devil will rip your heart out and eat it. If given the chance."

The Judge slithers away, exiting out the doors without another word. Kuro turns to Esmerelda, offering her a weak grin as he nodding his head thoughtfully to her.

"Are you alright?" He asked, seeing her offer a warm smile in return. She nodded, her hands folding together.

"I'm appreciative of your efforts." She said, before turning to the statue of the saint and child once more. She huffed slowly, walking over to stand before them. "You would think trying to pray wouldn't be so hard…"

"It's not a problem. Well," Kuro shrugged, walking back over to the pews he was previously sitting at before. Xion joined him. "I'll leave you to it. The whole… praying thing."

"May the Light guide you." Esmerelda gratefully said, before turning her attention back to the statue. She focuses on finding her faith, feeling it gather in the center of her hands interwoven together as she focuses her energy and begins her gentle prayer.

~ I don't know if you can hear me ~

~ Or if you're even there ~

May the Light guide you. The Heartless hadn't thought of the light as a guiding force, or really in any positive way since his birth, only truly thinking of it and highlighting how inconvenient it was that he couldn't possibly heal those who find themselves full of light when they needed it the most. All because he was of the Dark. He glanced over at Xion, who's stare never left him since they returned to their seats. He glanced over at Esmerelda, whose prayers were spoken in a dignified and hallowed way. Kuro turned his attention to Xion, a question popping into his mind. He turned to properly face her, dipping his chin down to come eye level with her. "If you prayed, Xion, what would you pray for?"

~ Yes, I know I'm just an outcast ~

~ I shouldn't speak to you ~

~ Still I see your face and wonder ~

~ Were you once an outcast too? ~

Kuro's question sparked an interesting thought in the girl. She turned to the numerous people who prayed for their own needs and aspirations, and wondered if she too could pray for that. She stared up into the stained glass that lingered above them, the sun had broken through the dense clouds outside and shone a light so bright, whatever colors that could be seen had now been dismissed. Replaced by the blinding elegant radiance of the purest Light. She basked in the sunbeam, feeling a phantom warmth spread heat through her cheeks and resonate in her chest.

~ God help the outcasts ~

~ Hungry from birth ~

~ Show them the mercy they don't find on Earth ~

"I would pray that Kingdom Hearts be completed. And to have a heart. So that I can be whole again. That's what I would want, more than anything." Xion spoke genuinely and truthfully, her face breaking with a sweet and wistful grin as she shut her eyes and enjoyed the pleasure of this single moment. The near silence of the dimly lit room, the smell of the candles burning, the warmth from the sunlight beating on her face. It was a peaceful moment, away from the muted grays of the Castle and harsh words of her co-workers. She let out a deep chested sigh, one that made her shudder and cleared her mind. "What would you pray for? If you prayed?"

~ God help my people ~

~ We look to you still ~

~ God help the outcasts or nobody will ~

Kuro's eyes narrowed, and he thought of what if he did pray, what would he pray for? Would he pray for what those around him had prayed for? For wealth? For fame? For glory? For love? He looked over them, trying to find some inspiration in their own private prayers. Then it occurred to him, as he saw the locals on their knees, beseeching to the heavens for help, desperation laced in their words, that a fresh unpleasant memory clawed its way into the forefront of his mind.

~ I ask for wealth ~

~ I ask for fame ~

~ I ask for glory to shine on my name ~

~ I ask for love I can possess ~

"I actually think I did pray… once. If you could call it that. It was when the lights of Traverse Town died out and after I was attacked. I was struck by bolt lightning, and it caused so much pain. And even when I did my best to ignore the hurt, I just keeled over in pain. It was unbearable. I was beaten, hurt, and then the lights of the town died out. I remember I stared up into that night sky…and I…" Kuro mumbled, his blank expression staring off into the distance. That numbing feeling that passed over him like rushing water when he recalled the moment the lantern lights of Traverse Town were snuffed and plummeted him into a world of ever present darkness. Leaving him under the remiss and impassive care of the unyielding and inconsequential starlight that lorded above him when he begged. He had forlornly pleaded for someone, anyone out there to help him. To save him. With bitter silence barking back at him in response, as if to mock him for his earnest request for aid. "And when I did pray… nothing answered."

~ I ask for God and his angels to bless me ~

An eerie quiet pause broke between the two, leaving Kuro to ponder the reason for the silence and the apparent rejection from the powers that be. He glanced up at the stained glass rose window, the light that shone on Xion faded, leaving the room to only be lit by the candle light. Cloaked once again in the darkness of the vaulted ceilings. Kuro stared at his hands, acknowledging that as a Heartless, he could not practice Light magic. The light could not mingle with the dark and vice versa. Perhaps that was the key factor in that unanswered prayer of his. As a Heartless, of course the light would forsaken him like it did that night. And those nights before and after. Leave him adrift amongst the endless expanse of stars without issue. Without care. He was in direct opposition to its very nature. Water douses fire, stone sinks when tossed into the depths of a river. Darkness snuffs out light. And light corrodes the dark away. Of course, the Light ignored his implored cry. Why wouldn't it?

~ I ask for nothing, I can get by ~

~ But I know so many less lucky than I ~

Xion's eyes rested on Kuro, seeing how desolate his stare was as he silently brought his eyes shut and turned his eyes away from the windows. There was a true pain in the words that he had spoken, and a tangible fear that made her own jaw clench when he described it. Ducking his head down behind the pews, as if to hide from the expansive sight lines of the windows and pulling his eyes into a tight close. Xion's eyes darted to his hands, seeing his right hand gripping a handful of his trousers in a clutch and the left coiled into a tight fist at his side. Recalling said memory seemed to be harming him. Xion felt a yearning feeling, deep in her chest. It wasn't right to feel - well to feel. But slowly, her hand reached hesitantly out to for him, if only to offer a comfort that could alleviate the troubles that stirred in his heart. Just as he wished to do for her when she was in pain, some odd days ago. She had tried to kill him, and he found it in himself to be kind to her. She could search and find it in herself to offer the same kindness.

~ Please help my people ~

~ The poor and down trod ~

~ I thought we all were the children of God ~

~ God help the outcast ~

~ Children of God ~

The heavy knocking on the doors interrupted Xion's motion, her fingers grazing the edges of Kuro's knuckles as he turned towards the sound. It wasn't a simple knock, this one was heavier. Stronger. The doors were thrown open on a repeated second knock, and a small cloven creature charged towards the pair. Their coarse fur was black, with wisps of gray painted along its shoulders and haunches, two small horns curling back along its head. The creature's ears flapped along their cheeks, with eyes as vibrant as captured sunlight. Gold in its color. Kuro's lips break into a smile at the sight, getting down onto a knee and patting his thigh as the small goat rushes towards him. The dark creature bonks their horns into his knee, which prompts a few heavy pats from Kuro as he chuckles softly.
"I was wondering where you went, Dusk." Kuro mumbled, turning over to Xion with that same gentle grin before nudging his chin to the goat. "We got this spell on us to blend us into our surroundings, and Dusk got worked into a goat. A cute little thing."

"I was curious what the Hag meant when she said I would also be affected by our connection. She neglected to tell me I would be morphed into a barnyard animal. I got lost in the crowd ." Dusk bleated, making Xion jump in her seat as the goat's unintelligible noises erupted out of the small creature and echoed in the church. Dusk's golden hued eyes glanced over at Xion, then nudged Kuro's knee with another well placed headbutt. "I told you she was safe. There wasn't a need to worry. She is strong."

"I know she's strong." Kuro grumbled with a squint and rubbing of his sore knee, before hearing Xion clear her throat to gather his attention once again. He quickly glanced over at Xion, whose arms crossed with a questioning stare. Her lips pulled into a teasing grin. With an awkward chuckle, Kuro rubs the back of his neck and huffs gently. "Dusk said I shouldn't have worried about you. And I said, 'I know'-"

"You worried about me?" Xion spoke with great surprise, wondering why anyone would worry about her. Kuro didn't need a heart, and he wasn't in the Organization. Why would he be worried for her safety? "Why were you worried about me?"
Kuro's orange eyes darted to the floor, then back up at her. Feeling his cheeks flush and his chest tighten. "I mean-"

"You! Bellringer!" Kuro's, Esmerelda's and Xion's eyes darted towards the voice, then all over the room to find the Bellringer. Quasimodo, who had apparently tried his best to sneak by, had been caught. In a panic, he shuffled back at the harsh tone of the man, stumbling over into a tall candelabra and knocked it over. Spilling hot wax and snuffing out the candles as they crashed to the floor. "What are you doing down here? Get back up in your tower!"

Quasimodo quickly rushes to a nearby stairwell, his heavy feet echoing in the hall before he disappears around the bend. Kuro and Esmerelda chased after him, Esmerelda going up the stairs first and Kuro second. Xion and Dusk follow behind him as they move swiftly up the stairs. Esmerelda glances over her shoulder as Kuro runs, turning back towards the stairs to not misplace her foot and stumble.

They had reached the top of the stairs and were met with a bridge leading to one of the many turrets overlooking the city, namely the one that faced the town square. Meaning that they were now on along the façade of Notre Dame. Xion couldn't help but glance over the edge, her eyes skating over the descending buttress along the roof and carrying the weight into the structure's thick and powerful walls. She let her fingers trail along the railing as she came to a slow stop, a similar sensation washing over her as she stared out into the vast cityscape below. The gust uplifting her hair and tickling her nose. She giggled at the sensation,

This view was nearly perfect. It was just missing the setting sun, and ice cream. She thought of Roxas for a moment, and wondered if he would ever wake up again. Some members said never, others said in due time. She had hoped he would awaken soon, she had missed her friend.

"Xion? You ok?" Kuro's voice broke the thoughts she was having, causing her to turn to him. Her eyes were met with the horizon glow of his gaze, her lips breaking into a serene smile as their warmth spread through her chest and warmed her face. It was remarkable what a simple thing like that could feel like. All she needed now was that ice cream.

"Yeah. I'm ok." She whispered, before seeing him nod and carry on across the bridge. With a wistful stare across the true horizon, she was satisfied and followed him.

The pair marched up through the steps, Xion rushing past Kuro with a quick smirk as she raced him up to the top of the stairs. When she does so, she alters for a moment at the sight at the top of the stairs, before her feet continue carrying her as she continues forward.

Kuro chuckles with surprise as she passes, but he reaches the middle of the stairwell when a sharp ringing of a bell is heard. It echoes harshly in his skull, rattling his brain and vibrating his chest. Kuro stumbles on the next step, a rough breath escapes out of him as he glances around to find the source of the ringing. His hands grab hold of the railings, as he frantically searches for the source of the ringing. As his eyes pulled his gaze higher in the bell tower, the bell rocked in his chest once more. He crawled over the railing, and using the wooden beam supports that crossed and hatched all through the tower, he began his ascent and chased the noise further up into the bell tower.

"Kuro? Kuro! Where are you going?" Dusk bleats out, in a fearful way. Their 'baa'ing echoing in the tower and chasing after their friend. Still, Kuro climbed. "Kuro!"

Esmerelda did not give up her pursuit of Quasimodo, trailing up further and further into the tower. Xion followed behind Esmerelda, her eyes falling over a trio of gargoyle statues. One had a powerful build, one with a noticeable gut, and another short stubby horns. Xion's eyes trail over the crosshatch of support beams that lined the interior of the bell tower, in awe of such a technical marvel. She continues up the stairs, following Quasimodo and Esmerelda.

"Here you are. I was afraid I'd lost you." Esmerelda noted, finally catching up to him and placing her hand along his shoulder. Her fingertips tracing the edges of his hump, making him flinch and shudder at the touch. She refused to withdraw her hand in surprise, instead letting him shuffle out of her reach and letting her fingers trail down the ridges of his shoulder. She had to show him, even if it's a simple gesture, that she was repulsed by him.

"Yes. Well, I, uh…" Quasimodo's massive hands brushed over each other nervously, his good eye bouncing around in every direction except hers. He cleared his throat, mumbling and fumbling over his words. "I have chores to do. I-It was nice... seeing... you... again."

"Oh! No, wait! I'm really sorry about this afternoon. I had no idea who you were." Esmerelda spoke sincerely, her heart aching for instigating the whole affair that led to that ugly display of human cruelty. Her feet chased his own as a shadow, stepping after him as he tried to walk away from her. "I would never in my life have pulled you... up... on... the... stage."

Xion and Esmerelda happen upon Quasimodo's quarters, a small enclosed area with a massive open window across from the top of the stairwell. This was the last piece of real walkway and flooring before there were ladders leading to the landings for Quasimodo to ring the various bells fixed throughout the massive tower.

Located in the center of this room is a flat table, covered in miniature buildings, including a rather accurate diorama of the great Notre Dame, herself. Small figures adorned the tabletop, all at various stages of being painted. Those in the center square were properly proportioned, fully painted with darling hats, masterfully carved face dips and chins, their shirts layered with golden painted dot buttons. Xion walks over to the table top, her lips pulled back in surprise and in what could be described as joy. What a charming table set. Dusk shuffled over to the edge of the table, their yellow eyes seeing a small painted sheep covered in glued wool. Dusk, with a smack of their chops, leaned in and chomped into the figure. The wood cracking and crumbling under their solid teeth. Dusk never had a mouth before, and the chance to chew wasn't one they wanted to avoid. And to their surprise, it was tasty. So tasty that they snuck another sheep to munch on while the Bellringer was distracted.

"What is this place?" Esmerelda whispers, glancing all around the room. She saw off in the corner a cot made up of discarded stained quilts, loose feather bags that could vaguely be mistaken as pillows, and lumpy mattresses stacked four high.

"This is where I live." Quasimodo stated with an unsettled voice, either rattled from the festival or beholding a beauty like Esmerelda, it was difficult to tell. He moves behind a rather large wooden support beam, trying to keep his face out of sight as he speaks.

"Did you make all these things yourself?" Esmerelda inquires as she grabs one of the small figures and inspects it. Feeling how smooth the wooden base was, how delicate he must've been to carve something so smooth and precise.

"Most of them." Quasimodo said sheepishly, ashamed of his hobby now getting the attention of a woman like Esmerelda.

"This is beautiful. If I could do this, you wouldn't find me dancing in the streets for coins." Esmerelda admitted, her fingers tracing the edges of the table as she walks around the mock City of the Bells.

"But you're a wonderful dancer." Quasimodo complimented with flushed cheeks, his hands moving to cover the wide grin that graced his face, hiding it from her sight as he shuffled around the table. Trying his best to pick up loose paint brushes, cups of mucky paint water, and plates of mixed and fixed colors. He hadn't expected, nor did he ever expect, to have real company in his personal quarters.

"It keeps bread on the table, anyway." Esmeralda whispers, with a single careless shrug as her eyes dart to the table. There is a sense of sorrow in her voice, either by the way she makes the bread or the amount of bread she does secure, Quasimodo couldn't discern. All he knew was that it pained her. She is pulled out of her thoughts, a few figures covered under a loose handkerchief. "What's this?"

"Oh! No, please! L-l-I'm not finished. I still have to paint them." Quasimodo admitted, her hands too full of attempting to clean his space to stop her snooping. She pulled the cloth up, and was met with two figures. The figure on the right was lean, with a flat face and holding what appeared to be a hammer in their hand, and the figure on the left held an object under their arm with an outward rounded tip along their crown. It appeared to be a hat. It took some creative liberties on her part, but her eyes sparkled when she made the connection.

"Oh! I see! It's the blacksmith and the baker!" She held the baker up, in complete awe of the creativity that this bellringer had. "You're a surprising person, Quasimodo. Not to mention lucky. All this room to yourself."

"Well, it's not just me. There's the gargoyles and, of course, the bells." Quasimodo noted, his hands gesturing to the gargoyles that were stationed besides the mouth of the tower door, and to bells that were located above him. He turned his attention to the giant bells that were his duty to ring. He gets an excited smile, only to mentally restrain his excitement so as to not be too offputting. "Would you like to see them?"

"Yes, of course." Esmerelda said, with a gratefully nod. Quasimodo jumps in joy, quickly rocketing up the ladder, shooting the occasional glance over his shoulder to ensure that she was following behind. Esmerelda follows him, followed shortly by Xion. The two dark haired women are awestruck not by the size of the bells, but the sheer numbers of them. They were huge, easily taller than the both of them stacked head to toe. Quasimodo grins, seeing the astonishment that was painted on their faces. He couldn't help but feel pride linger in his chest, someone who thought the bells were as beautiful as he had.

"That's Little Sophia." Quasimodo notes with a quick tender palm to the edge of the bell. With a running start, he jumps and throws one of his massive arms up and grabs hold of the beam, swinging his legs forward and throwing his opposing arm to catch the next beam. The practice went the same, swinging from beam to beam effortlessly. With each passing swing, his fingers trail the edges of the bell as he names them. "And Jeane-Marie, Anne-Marie, Louise-Marie."

"And this one? What's its name?" Quasimodo's eyes shoot open, following the sound of the voice and seeing Kuro standing right beside the bourdon bell, made specifically to be the biggest and loudest toll. She was the pride and joy of the tower, and Quasimodo's personal favorite to ring. She is the one that gave him such powerful arms, as she was the heaviest to pull for her tolling.

"Big Marie." Quasimodo spoke so proudly as he climbed up to Kuro's level and roosted along the bannister's railing, his hands resting on his bent knees. When Esmerelda used the ladder to climb up to their level, she was met with the enormous bell. She giggles mischievously, ducking underneath it and stepping into the center. She was surrounded by the metal, the giant bell dwarfing her.

"Hello!" Esmerelda spun in a circle, the tune of her voice carrying throughout the bell and echoing for what could be mistaken for miles. Xion walks over to it, her fingers tracing along the edges of the bell and was mesmerized by the craftsmanship it must've taken to create such a wondrous and momentous thing.

"She likes you…" Quasimodo's eyes lingered on the dark haired woman, hearing her lovely voice was more darling and pleased his ears than the most beautiful chimes. His eyes glance over at the edges of the bourdon bell. Quasimodo sees Kuro's eyes linger on the massive bell with hexed interest, his hands etching over the engravings along the metal. Kuro's jaw locked, his nail dragging against the massive instrument. "Beauty, ain't' she?"

"You're telling me…She's pretty…" Kuro's voice crawled out of him as if it were buried and lost in his chest. Kuro's huffed noise catches the attention of Xion, who watches him thoughtfully as he admires the bell. Kuro's fingers linger, feeling the humming radiate off the bell and vibrate his fingertips. Just the same as Arthur's sword did. The proximity to such a massive object and its latent power was as alluring as the chimes of this cathedral bells. The contact of his fingers against the metal was making the bones in his hands and arms rattle in anticipation. He takes a sharp and invigorated gasp, lips curled into a devious grin. "Cornerstone…"

Destroy the Bell. Smash it into tiny pieces. Do it. Ring with fury and destroy it. You missed your chance with the Goddamn Sword. Shatter the Bell.

"What was that? Kuro?" Xion inquiries upon hearing Kuro's word, 'Cornerstone', walking alongside him and folding her hands behind her back. He didn't turn to her, acting as if he didn't hear her. Which, considering his fascination and fixation, he clearly didn't. Her chin ducking down to meet his gaze. Interrupting his staring contest with the metal. What she saw chilled her blood, as those once bright and warm eyes were voided, were sharp and deadly. There was intent in his gaze, the same kind she saw that night they met. They held a fury and a desire to destroy. He looked like he was not mentally there with them at the moment, his mind was elsewhere. Forsaking his body. This troubled Xion, bringing to mind her superior's own gaze she had unfortunately been on the receiving end of. Calculated, deadly, and vicious. She had repeated his name, in hopes of jostling him out of his daze. It did nothing. It was then Kuro was brought out of his mind and back into his skin at the now repeated third mention of his name, his whole body convulsed. As if he were suddenly struck by freezing water. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." Kuro snapped, a little too quickly and too rigidly, in a tone that sounded more annoyed than surprised. Xion jolts, her back straightening and her eyes going wide. He had never spoken to her like that before, the kindness that usually exuded from him was missing. Kuro shook his head, his fingers tracing along his forehead, pinching his eyes shut. He could feel that he had startled her. "Sorry. I think… I'm just tired."

"Would you like to see more?" Quasimodo asked, his hand anxiously fiddling with his thumb and forefinger, as if he were trying to twist and pull them out by the joint. He bit his lip, his eyes bouncing up to the ladder leading to the spire porch high above the bells.

"I'd love to." Esmerelda answered, seeing Quasimodo begin to lead the way up the spire ladder towards the wrap-around landing. Once again, looking over his shoulder to be assured that she was tailing behind him

"I've saved the best for last." Quasimodo stated, taking care to assist her up the final rungs of the ladder before escorting her outside. Xion tapped Kuro's shoulder with her fingers, nudging her head towards the ladder and beginning to walk towards it.

"We should keep up with them…" Xion suggested, her feet carrying her but her eyes focused on Kuro. His orange hued stare was slowly gaining back light, his jaw unclenching and his arms swinging to his sides. His hands were noticeably shaking before he ceased their tremors by tightening them into fists. "Let's go. Come on."

He followed her up the ladder, trying to ignore the mental tolling of the bell with every step up the rung.

To say it was breathtaking would be an understatement, as the view from the spire at the top of the cathedral was as if one were to step into a work of art. The city streets were lined with darling homes and buildings of stone and wood, the river that circled the district shimmered and shone with the beams of the evening sun. The reflection of the sun's rays painted the canals and the buildings lining the waters in a dazzling array of golds and reds. The small figures that moved up and down the streets lived their lives oblivious to the pairs of eyes that observed them from so high up. Quasimodo's diorama seemed to be mostly accurate, as the dancer could point out where certain shops were as they were arranged on his dining room table. Xion walked over to the railing, moving to lean along the edge of the stone, her hair picked up in the occasional gust of the wind. Kuro leaned back against the wall, letting the incline of the spire support him as he admired the view.

"I bet the king himself doesn't have a view like this." Esmerelda said with awestruck bewilderment , viewing the majesty of the city below them. She spread her arms out wide, the breeze carrying her dress and blowing her wind in the air. Her lips breaking into the smile as the cool air is comforting and the gust lets her briefly imagine she can fly. "I could stay up here forever."

"Y-You could, you know." Quasimodo offered the invitation, mentally noting that she probably wouldn't want to be a guest in his room, but knew that the Archdeacon would offer room and board for such a pleasant woman. However, Esmerelda's smile was pulled into a thin frown, her eyes falling shut as she continued to stare out over the evening sky. "You have sanctuary! You have safety."

"But not freedom. I need freedom, not just safety." Esmerelda sighs sadly, her eyes tracing over the city. Her eyes focused exclusively on one area of the city, her hand reaching up to her neck and thoughtfully brushing her fingertips over her trinket that was hidden under a layer of garb, just over her heart. "I need to return home… I need to leave."

"You helped me." Quasimodo thought of her bravery to help him in the city square, the kindness of her action making his heart swell with joy even now. Which in turn, fueled his determination to assist her in any way he can. " Now I will help you."

"But there's no way out. There's soldiers lining the streets." Esmerelda's eyes gazed over the city, seeing the torches that lined the streets, all in pursuit of a single woman. She let her hand comb through her hair anxiously, turning to the Bellringer. "Not to mention there are probably guards at every door."

"We won't use a door then. I'll carry you." Quasimodo glanced down to the railing and the rooftops, Esmerelda's eyes going wide and her breath catching in her throat. Just realizing now exactly how high they were in the air. "You know, down."

"You mean...climb down?" Esmerelda asked, seeing Quasimodo nod happily. Kuro glanced over the edges, seeing how many stories up they were and how vast the drop from this height could be. The Heartless turned his attention to Quasimodo, then nudged his head towards the building face.

"Got any advice for climbing this thing? You seem to be an expert." Kuro asked, seeing Quasimodo wring out his wrists and shake out his fingers. Making sure that they had blood pumping into them. Quasimodo glances over Kuro's arms, then to the railing beneath him.

"Well, keep those arms straight. You won't get tired as fast." Quasimodo noted, his hands gripping the railings to get a feel for the stone and the texture of it against his hands. Taking a few full chested breaths. "It always looks farther than it is, and taller. So, be mindful and know your limits. Oh, And don't look down."

"Got it." Kuro flexed out his hands, glancing over at Xion with a wicked grin and a raising of the eyebrows. "Need a lift?"

"I think I'll manage." Xion spoke with a crinkle of her nose, patting her gloves together as she leaned over the edge of the railing. Seeing the various flying buttresses, roof landings, and gargoyle perches that lined the possible trek down. She turned to Kuro, her eyes squinted and her chin pulled up. "Unless you need a lift down?"

"Now that you mention it," Kuro considered the idea of letting Xion carry him down, before he quickly shook his head and vaulted over the ledge, continuing to grip the railing with his left hand as his right hangs loosely at his side. The sudden shift out of sight surprised the black haired girl, and hearing Xion's sudden gasp made him laugh more."I'm sorry! Did I scare you?"

"No!" Xion rolls her eyes with a good natured grin, before jumping off of the edge and landing onto a tiled rooftop. Her heels skating over the smooth surface in a slide before lunging onto the edge of a buttress. Her gloved hand found the corner and grabbed on. "I was just worried you couldn't keep up!"

Kuro's eyes shine with recklessness, flashing her a mischievous grin before letting his hand go, descending down and grabbing the next available outer window frame to slow his descent.

"Last one down loses!" Kuro shouts, hearing Xion laugh in acceptance of the challenge, pressing her heels to the stone to cast off and jump onto a lower buttress below.

Esmerelda watches the two as they drop and shimmy down the side of the great Cathedral. Her nerves begin to get the better of her as she watches them. Quasimodo senses the fear that gathered within her, and waves to get her attention once more. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and her dark complexion a few shades lighter as she began to lose color in her face.

"Yes. I promise, I won't drop you." Quasimodo smiles, extending one of his arms out and offering it to her. Esmerelda replicates the grin, taking his hand into hers. Quasimodo pulls his arm around her, walking over to the edge of the railing and placing his freehand along the edge. He gives her one more glance before steadying his breath. "Don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid." She tried to act brave, only to lose her nerve when he threw himself off the ledge and grabbed hold of the handrail and the pair dangled off of the edge of the Cathedral. "Now I'm afraid."

"The trick is not to look down." Quasimodo offers as a suggestion of how to deal with the heights. Climbing down in the Cathedral wasn't as difficult as it was exhilarating. Kuro and Xion were in a rapid descent, Kuro's hands skimming and trailing along the edges of roof tiles and window edges while Xion swung across landings by grabbing flagpoles and lunged between rooftops like an acrobat. Their laughter when they made jumps that seemed a little too far or grabbed edges that felt a little too thin for a proper grip,

Quasimodo's descent was more measured and intricate, opting to find landings that were wide and unintimidating, as to not frighten Esmerelda. Eventually, the two made it down from one of the highest peaks of the Cathedral down towards the second story, with Kuro and Xion having reached the end of their race. Kuro dropped two stories and caught a window, while Xion reached the last roof just before the next landing was the stone road.

"I win!" Xion said with her hands thrown up into the air, Kuro's hands slip from the window frame, sliding along the roof until he slips off and he catches the raingutter's edge. "I win!"

"You won." Kuro congratulated, staring up at her with an impressed smile. "Good job."

"I hope I didn't scare you." Quasimodo mumbled as he rested his heels on the awning of a horse hitch, gently placing Esmeralda down beside him as the two rested from their Cathedral Crawl. Esmerelda to gather her nerves, and for Quasimodo to have the blood return to his hands. Esmerelda diverted her attention to his hands and the sincere worry that he held for her. She reached over, and traced her fingers over his forearm to gather his attention

"Not for an instant." Esmeralda said in a hush, a beaming smile on her face. Quasimodo's heart soared to be in the presence of such a perfect and darling grin.

"I'll never forget you, Esmeralda." Quasimodo whispered so sincerely, truly enamored by the beauty of not just her face but of her character. How she was able to look at him as a man, and not a monster. She leaned in a little closer.

"Come with me."

"What?" Quasimodo's hand covers his mouth in a quick slap, the surprise nearly raising his voice an octave and echoing down the alleyway. "But-where? Where would I go?"

"To the Court of Miracles. That's my home." Esmeralda nods, taking her hands and taking hold of his own. The tenderness of her hands were met with the worn calluses and rough pads of his worked hands. She ignored the texture of his hands, knowing the gentleness of the soul that had them. "Leave this place. Be amongst people who could-"

"Oh, no. I'm never going back out there again. You saw what happened to me today. No." Quasimodo's eyes take a quick glance up towards the imposing bell tower above him. A wave of security immediately passes over him, easing the tension in his shoulders and his hands. A prison it was, but a safe one. "This…This is where I belong."

"All right," Esmereleda ponders for a moment, a quick smirk flashing across her face with determination shining in her eyes. "Then I'll come to see you."

"What? Here? But, the soldiers, and Frollo, and…" Quasimodo tries to list every reason why she shouldn't return, fearing for her safety more than his possible punishment for even conversing with her.

"I'll come after sunset to see you, my friend." Esmerelda says with a warm glow to her cheeks, reaching out to take hold of his hands. Her thumbs grazing over his bulbous and rigid knuckles. Quasimodo shudders, his hands beginning to tremble at the contact.

"At sunset, I ring the evening mass, and after that, I clean the kooisters, and then I ring the vespers, and–" Quasimodo's fingers extended one each of the tasks that he was ordered to do, his thumb bending his digit back as he counted. Esmeralda gives Quasimodo a little peck on the cheek to interrupt him. His whole body flushed red, lashes fluttering and his eyes rolled over in his head as he offered a whimsical smile to the dancer. His face a bashful smile and a gleam in his eyes. "Whatever's good for you."

"If you ever need sanctuary, this will show you the way." Esmeralda pulls a talisman off her neck and hands it to Quasimodo. It was in the shape of an oval, with crossing over sections of brown string. Thick blue yarn at what would be the north and south poles of the trinket move along the center of the item before splintering into two concurrent strands, before meeting back up at the opposing point. In the center was a small bauble of a painted cross, and on what would be the western quarter of the talisman was a smaller iron cross shaped bead.

"But how?" Quasimodo inquires, tactfully taking the talisman in hand, gently as to not accidentally crush it. Handling it as though he held a precious life in the palm of his hand.

"Just remember," Esmerelda takes her hand and trails it over his own, guiding his fingers over the strings woven throughout the charm. His fingertips tracing the blue yarn. "When you wear this woven band, you hold the city in your hand."

Quasimodo nods hesitantly, not quite sure what exactly to make of the rhyme, before remembering that soldiers were still about and lowering her onto the alley floor and ensuring she is safe. As she lands and races off into the depths of the city, a breath of relief leaves Quasimodo. Once she is out of sight, Quasimodo swifty begins his ascent up the sides of Notre Dame. Upwards to return to his personal board and his bell tower.

Kuro flexes hand and tightens his hold of the edge of the roof tile, feet dug into the wall below for support. He watches from below Xion effortlessly jump and tumbles onto the alley stone easily enough. Landing with her heels striking the ground firmly. He stares down at her, offering her a quick smile in the dark as she raises her eyes to meet his. The two share a quiet moment, quickly realizing that this might be the last time they see each other for a while. Kuro's face grew rigid, and Xion's attention was diverted to the floor.

"Well," Kuro shrugs a single shoulder, eyes glancing back up to the bell tower. He certainly didn't want his time with her to end, particularly since he had craved it for the better part of ten days now. However, she had a job to do, and so did he. Still, he made a mental note to carve her smile and her eyes into his memory. Her features brought him great comfort, he noticed rather recently. "I think I'm going to hang around here. I still need to talk to Quasimodo and make sure he's ok after today."

Xion's laugh at his lame joke made Kuro's eyes sparkle in the dark, and caused this swelling in his chest. It felt akin to a warm fire, powerful in its heat, and it was fed with each giggle that came from her.

"And I need to RTC. I'm sure they are… concerned about my whereabouts." Xion says with her arms folded over her chest and her head cocking to the side. Worried would have sounded personal, as if they actually cared about her. But concerned, there's an air of professionalism to it. A certain disconnection. She opened her mouth to speak again, then shut it just as quickly. She glances to the stones beneath her feet once again, hesitant to speak. She couldn't break another promise to him and say, 'I'll see you tomorrow.' She didn't want to hurt him again. She nods gently to herself, deciding to do the next best thing. Her eyes rise to meet his gaze once again. "I'll see if I can come back tomorrow. If not, I'll try to stop by Traverse Town in the next few days. Alright?"

"Yeah." Kuro's smile falters slightly, the fear of her not showing up again creeped along his back, and he immediately shook the feeling off. She wouldn't lie to him again. She's his friend. "I'll be here tomorrow. And if I don't see you… I'll head back to Traverse Town and I'll wait for you then."

Xion nods, offering him a quick wave and rushing off to her evacuation point. She moved along the bend of the alley, pulling her hood over her head and disappearing around the corner. Kuro lingered for a moment, a yearning sigh escaping out of his chest before readjusting his grip and climbing back up the massive cathedral. An unexpected visit, but one he was glad to have. At the very least, he now knew she was safe and she was alive. That was good enough for him. As Kuro began his ascent up to the belltower, he noticed like a wave gaining territory against the sandy shore,The last of the sun's light was beginning to disappear over the dark horizon, a few minutes shy of casting the city in a blanket of violet and purple hues. The lanterns glimmered in the city streets below, the evening bells ringing and echoing throughout the known world. Kuro's eyes glanced over his shoulder and saw the last of the light begin to dip across the horizon. Kuro's hand tightened his grip along the ear of a gargoyle statue, holding his free hand to his chest and letting his palm spread flat against his chest.

"Light…" Kuro mumbled to himself, praying for what he would argue is the first real time in his life. He thought of the warmth of the sun and of the shine Xion captured and held in her smile. He shut his eyes solemnly. If the Light would grant him just one wish…

"If you could… please give Xion a heart."