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Waves. The sound of rushing water. Sunlight. The coolness of the cave. Home. Dinner's ready. Sora? Sora?
Where have you been all day, young man? Don’t you know what time it is?
A sheepish laugh, his own, but pitched higher. Younger.
"I was playing at the beach - "
"With that boy. He's a year older than you, Sora. He's a bad influence. Try playing with the nicer kids your age."
Sora, don't ever change.
Sora. Who's Sora? What's he like? What kind of person is he?
He hears the name repeated to him continuously in this strange eternity. Sora, don't ever change. Sora. A constant reminder. Sora. Never forget it.
He hears a giggle, a girl's. Its bright wherever he is. It's warm. Images dance against his eyelids and sometimes he hears footsteps and sometimes the sound of low, murmuring voices. A girl's voice too. Almost identical to the one who giggles. He can't move his limbs and his eyelids are too heavy to open. He touches nothing, there is no one with him in his small space.
But mostly he is running, jumping, swinging something heavy but light, easy to carry as if it were part of his own body. His heart.
He hears the giggle again. Hearts are important. Hearts are love, and light. They are also the darkness you carry inside you. The giggling stops. He is no longer running and jumping and swinging at monsters. He is racing a boy, and they swing their play swords and the smell of dirt and sweat fills his senses. He is fighting a boy. A monster. No, he is fighting a boy.
Suddenly he's back at home and his mother is asking him why he's late.This time the answer doesn't seem to upset her.
The mayor's daughter? She's a sweet girl, I'm glad you're making new friends, Sora.
He's a bad influence. Try playing with the nicer kids your age.
Silver strands are blown coarse and tangled by the salty wind. Aquamarine eyes peer at him from beneath the wind-blown hair, shining like jewels. The long strands are raked back with calloused fingers and he flashes a smirk at Sora.
His heart flutters and suffers.
Bad influence? He's not dangerous. He would never hurt him. They're the best of -
A wooden sword is thrown at his feet. Thud, clatter. What were they fighting about? Was it that girl? Was it that key in his hand? It was his. Or was it the boy's? Who did it belong to?
It's dark all of a sudden. He hates the dark.
He hears footsteps again, getting closer. They stop right in front of him. His eyelids are so, so heavy - he wants to keep them closed forever.
"Sora."
That name again. That voice again.
Please, wake up.
I guess I'm the only one working on the -- told him to take care of Kairi and here he is just taking a nap.
Ah, it's that voice again.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed but there are more voices, but only a few muddled words reach his ears. "Memories". "Organisation". "Roxas".
He doesn't know a Roxas but he recognises one of the voices - the one from his dreams.
"How much longer?" The boy asks.
He sounds older and quieter. Exhausted. What happened to you?
There was a point where there was nothing that could wear him out. He was invulnerable. He could do anything, which was why growing up with him was one of the best and worse things that ever happened to S-
He remembers being swallowed by darkness, then by light. Blinding white walls. How could being lost in a castle amount to so much more damage than all the worlds he had wandered through? He travelled through the galaxy, fighting and searching. He wants to go back home but he can't. Not without -
-Kairi.
He's starting to remember.
"Namine's work is almost complete."
More names he doesn't recognise. The footsteps fade away. His can't move because his arms and legs seem to be made of wood.
"Sora."
His finger twitches. It's him, it’s the boy, it's -
"Don't look for me, okay?"
Riku.
His eyelids weigh a ton but he has to wake up. He has to see him he has to say something. Anything.
Everything is blurry when he peers from beneath his lashes and a dark figure stands across from him, separated by a transparent wall of some sort. The figure places a hand on it.
"Bye, Sora."
A huge yawn leaves his mouth before he even opens his eyes. He stretches his wooden arms and looks around.
Donald and Goofy are here, at least the three of them aren't separated. He laughs with relief and glances around at the white, blinding walls.
They leave the castle and Sora is back to business. The Keyblade Wielder, the hero.
"I had a strange dream."
Donald and Goofy aren't too concerned. They were, after all, asleep for a long time.
"There was a shadow standing across from me."
"A Heartless?!"
He considers it, actually, but shakes his head. "No, it couldn't be." It was too sad to be heartless. Only people with hearts could be sad, right?
Anyway, it didn't really matter. He had a mission to do.