Archive of Our Own ^beta

All the days at the beach were much the same, Aqua thought, except this one.

Axel and Isa had roped Riku into one of their disk games, finally, after what felt like years of wheedling (well, Axel had wheedled, anyway). Mickey, Donald, and Goofy were all at the castle, actually attending to the business of running a kingdom for once. Xion and Kairi were sparring with Ven and Roxas instead of with each other. Naminé and Terra were trying out watercolors. Hayner, Pence, and Olette had done a little too much slacking off and were scrambling to get their last-ever summer homework done.

And Aqua saw the bottle wash up on the shore.

By the time she'd picked it up and brushed the wet sand off, Terra had come to investigate, Naminé at his elbow. By the time she uncorked it, Riku and Axel and Isa had gathered around. By the time she'd unrolled the message with the King's seal on it, Xion, Roxas, Ven and Kairi had joined them.

"It's from the King, apparently," Axel said, by way of explanation.

"What does it say?" Ven demanded, standing on his toes and bracing on Xion and Roxas's shoulders to try and get a better look.

Aqua read it aloud. Her hands and voice were steady. She had never forgotten the trick of saying terrible things as if they didn't matter.

There's a chance.

It's just a small chance. I know you've all been wishin' on every star. I have, too. I wish I had a way to tell ya this that wouldn't hurt, but—well, I think hopin' and hurtin' are two sides of the same coin, and ya can't get one without the other, so I just gotta tell ya.

We don't have much information, but if ya come to the castle, I can make sure ya get everythin' we do have. Before you decide, ya gotta understand that it'd be dangerous. It could set the darkness free again and I don't know how we'd stop it this time. It could undo everythin' we've worked so hard for.

I'm not askin ya to go. As King, I should really tell ya not to. But Donald and Goofy have already made up their minds, and anyway, he was my friend, too.

So I'm tellin' ya: there's a chance.

—King Mickey

A hush came over the beach in waves, the gentle shh, shh of the surf rolling in. The ten of them stood still. There was a hole in the world on the trunk of the crooked paopu tree—it was always there, but in that moment, it was so there that the light bent around it into a phantom silhouette, and if you stared, as some of them stared, you almost thought you could see it kicking its feet...

"Sora would go," Isa said.

Everyone turned to look at him. He seemed to notice for the first time that he'd spoken aloud. His lips pinched together. He tucked his chin and folded his arms, glaring at the sand as though it had brought him bad news.

"I am simply stating the facts of the matter," he said. "Presented with a similar situation, I am confident that Sora would accept the King's mission, dubious though it may be."

"Yeah, and look where that attitude got him," Axel drawled.

Roxas hit him in the arm, hard.

"Ow! What?"

"You know what," Roxas said, venomous. Axel shrank down and scratched the back of his head.

"Sheesh, sorry," he mumbled.

Xion nudged him with her shoulder. "You don't have to go. We'd understand."

"And let you have all the fun?" He clapped a hand down over her head and ruffled her hair. "Nice try."

"We shouldn't rush into this," Aqua said. "Especially if it could let the darkness in again. We can't afford that, and Sora wouldn't want it."

"Sora would find a way," Riku retorted. Kairi put a hand on his arm, restraining.

"We can at least go to the castle," she said. "Once we know what King Mickey found, we'll be able to make a better decision. Right?"

"I think that's a good idea," said Aqua.

Next to her, Terra folded his arms and nodded.

Aqua went on: "But if it's too dangerous, then we have to look for another way. Okay?"

"What if there isn't another way?" Ven asked.

Aqua shrugged. "Then we have to keep hoping. Just like we have been."

"In the interest of avoiding further pointless argument, I believe I'll be heading to the castle," said Isa, turning away from the group.

"You?" Axel cried. "What for?"

"I believe I just said."

"Well, not without me, you're not!"

In a blast of flame, a doorway opened. Axel jumped through and did a little twirl to stick his tongue out at Isa.

"Predictable," said Isa, smugly, and followed him through.

Naminé shrugged at Xion, who giggled into her hand.

"Some things never change," Roxas sighed.

"Last one in's a rotten egg!" Ven cried. He sprinted after Axel and Isa, with Roxas and Xion hot on his heels. Kairi, Naminé, and Riku followed more sedately.

Aqua stood still, staring at the cool shadows under the bridge, just a few feet behind Axel's doorway. The evening was golden, the wind warm and smelling of salt, and her eyes filled with a different evening, so much like this one.

That little boy on the beach, his feet sugar-caked with sand, his great big wondering eyes looking up at her with more than admiration, with something uncannily close to love. And in return for that love, she had burdened him with a destiny too horrible to imagine, a promise he should never have had to keep. She'd always wished she could have stayed. Sometimes she thought she should have stayed. Her heart had gone out to him, it really had....

Down there in the dark, lost and alone and knowing that the world was ending, Aqua—or whatever was left of her—felt something. It was just the faintest glimmer of light, either very dim and very close or incredibly bright and impossibly far away. Aqua didn't care which. It was enough to navigate by, a single star to set her course.

"Please," she said, barely a whisper. "Please, I—I'm lost."

"Hey," came a voice. Her heart—or whatever was left of it—leapt. He, Ven—no, Terra—no— "It's okay."

She reached out in desperation. He took her hand, or whatever was left of it. His hand was not strong, but it was there.

"You can stay, if you want to," he said. "I don't exactly know how to help you, but I know everything's less scary when you're not alone."

Stay. Stay. Yes, she wanted to stay. More than anything else in the world, she wanted to stay, lost and hollow and knowing that the world was ending but not alone....

She held on tight, and he squeezed her hand, invisible down there in the dark.

"My name's Sora," he said, like it mattered, and because he said it like that it did matter. "What's yours?"

"Aqua?"

She snapped back to the present, to the rose-gold sky and the smell of the sea. Terra was standing in the doorway, waiting for her.

"Coming," she said.

The news was not good, just as Mickey had promised. They all gathered around a big table in one of the castle's many halls and looked over the maps and charts and data and logs. There was a little bit of Sora everywhere, cast through all the worlds like glitter dust. It might—might—be possible to gather it all up, and then it might—might—be possible to put it all back together again. Riku knew there was more to it than that, but he also knew Mickey well enough not to ask.

Roxas did not.

"So what's the problem?" he said. "Naminé put Sora back together before, she can do it again. Right?"

Mickey shook his head. "It isn't going to be that easy."

"Wasn't that easy last time, either," Axel mumbled.

"And whose fault would that have been?" Isa inquired.

Mickey held up a hand to head off any more arguing. "Roxas, all those pieces of Sora... we can't just scoop 'em up in our hands. They're hidin' in the worlds' hearts, and they have to be carried back in people's hearts. I'm worried just gettin' to 'em could damage the worlds, maybe badly enough to start everythin' over again. I'm not sure if we can risk it. And then to have anybody carry him back in their hearts—!"

His ears drooped, his eyes drifted shut. The weight pressed down on all of them.

Well, nobody said, not even Axel, we know what that does to people.

"I don't care!" Donald declared, banging his staff on the table. "I'll do whatever it takes to bring Sora back!"

"Me, too!" Goofy cried.

"Listen, both of you," Terra said. "I know you want to get him back. I do, too. Everyone at this table—" He shot a questioning glance at Isa.

Isa made a helpless gesture and rolled his eyes.

"Everyone at this table wants to bring Sora back," Terra confirmed. "But if it means destroying the worlds—we know Sora wouldn't want that. If it meant destroying us, he wouldn't want that, either."

"He'd want to be with his friends," Donald spat, stomping mightily. "We can't give up just because it's dangerous. No way!"

"Yeah, what he said!" Ven chimed in.

"Nobody's talking about giving up," said Aqua.

"Right, we all agreed—" Axel tried.

"I didn't agree to anythin'!" said Goofy. "Sora's my friend, and I just know he'd do everythin' he could to get me back if I was all in pieces all over the place. So I'm gonna do the same for him!"

"Everyone, please," Kairi said, pacifying. "Don't fight. We all want the same thing, don't we? But we also have to do what's right. Sora loved us, all of us, and—"

Riku walked out. It felt childish, but he just couldn't stay. Kairi was right, of course she was. Sora loved everybody. Sora had loved everybody, so much that it had destroyed him, in the end. Ripped him into glitter dust and blown him out across all the worlds and the spaces between.

Riku could remember that dark twilight on the black sand beach like it was yesterday, his arm over Sora's shoulder as they limped down to the water's edge. Love had gotten them that far, and then love had brought them home again. But even then, Sora had been thinner, fraying around the edges. Riku had seen it, although he didn't know what he was seeing until it was too late. He'd just watched it get worse and worse, like a sock going threadbare in the heel until suddenly there was a gaping, irreparable hole.

He knew it was his fault. He knew. If he'd been a little stronger. If he'd been a little wiser. If power had meant less to him, or love meant more, or....

It had started out as a joke, but it was a joke between two headstrong boys with more pride than sense. They had bickered and argued and tussled, raced and climbed and fought, and—Sora would never admit it, because if he was going to be smaller, he had to be stubborner—mostly Riku had won. But Sora kept challenging, challenging, challenging, sure that this time, this time, he'd found something he could win at.

"And the winner gets to share a paopu with Kairi!" he'd crow. You could hear him clear across the island (but Riku knew that he himself could be just slightly louder, because Sora had challenged him to it).

"You're on," Riku said, again and again and again, and sometimes when Sora lost it came to blows, and sometimes when Sora wasn't winning the fights he got mad, mad the way only someone who wasn't very strong got mad. Hair-pulling mad. Scratching mad. Biting mad.

"If it matters that much to you," his mother had said, at the end of a long scolding, "why don't the two of you split a paopu and both share it with her?"

"But I get to share my half first!" Sora cried, leaping up.

"No way," Riku said, around the split in his lip and the sand in his mouth.

"I'll race you for it," Sora said. "From here to the Secret Place and back!"

"Get ready to lose, dork," said Riku.

And he did, and lost again, and again, and again. Somehow the time was never right to bring Kairi into it. Riku suspected, deep down, that it had stopped being about Kairi a long time ago.

The truth was, if the paopu ever got shared, Sora would stop challenging him. And Sora was getting bigger (not as big as Riku, no, never), and Sora was getting harder to beat, and Sora was always there, right on Riku's heels, pushing him faster and faster and faster.

And Riku liked being fast, and he liked being strong, and he liked being faster and stronger than Sora most of all.

He came up with a plan. He didn't think about why, or how it made him feel. He definitely didn't tell anybody about it. When the time finally came, he put it to Sora like this:

"We'll share it." He split the star-shaped fruit in half and the juice ran down to his elbows. "Then even if I win, it'll still be like you're sharing a paopu with Kairi, because you and me are...."

He didn't know what they were, or what they would be. Sora looked at him uncertainly, folding his skinny arms and sticking his lower lip out just a little.

"You sure that'll work?" he said.

"Of course it'll work," said Riku, with a confidence he did not feel. You had to be sure, around Sora. Sora needed people to be sure.

"Well," Sora said, "if you're sure."

"I just said so, didn't I?"

Sora took the half from him, a big smile hiding somewhere just behind his lips. He got a sly look and raised the paopu to Riku in a toast like the grown-ups did.

"But just because I don't want you to miss out when I get to share one with Kairi for real!"

For real, he said, like this wasn't real, like the sticky-sweet taste and the pulp caught between their teeth and the little star-shaped hole in Riku's chest where part of him had gone away weren't real, and Riku didn't think about it and didn't feel anything about it and he definitely didn't tell anybody....

Eventually, he noticed that someone had sat down beside him, on a stone bench in the gardens with the stars glittering quiet above him. He was startled to see that it was Naminé.

"It's not your fault," she said.

He turned his eyes back to the sky. "So you still use that power over memory, sometimes, huh," he said.

"Sometimes. Not right now."

"It is my fault," Riku said heavily. "All of this. Everything that happened to him. It all started because of me. Because I wasn't... strong enough."

"No," she said. She folded her hands in her lap. And then she said: "We all killed him, Riku."

The pain in his chest cut off his breathing. He clenched his fists and his teeth, hung his head, let the tears fall down.

"How could we not notice?" he asked no one. "How could I not notice?"

"What would you have done if you had?"

"I don't know. Something. I would have found a way to save him."

"Do you really think you would've been able to convince him to do anything different?"

Riku scoffed, wiped his eyes on the back of his hand. "Of course not. No one's more stubborn than Sora."

"You see? There was nothing anyone could have done. I believe that. If he had chosen a different path... he wouldn't have been Sora."

The sound of crickets filled the quiet. The stars twinkled above them, millions of them, distant and separate, spread across the sky like glitter dust.

"Naminé," Riku said. "Do you really think we'll be able to...?"

Get him back, he couldn't say, because hope and hurting were two sides of the same coin.

"I put him back together once," said Naminé. "I can do it again."

"Is it the same as last time?"

"No," she said. She got up and dusted herself off. "Don't stay out too long, okay? We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"We... we're going?!" Riku cried, sitting forward. "We're going to save him?"

She turned. On her face was a gentle smile, paper-thin over grief.

"Of course," she said. She shrugged. "Did you really think we could have done anything else?"

"Sheesh, what a drag," Axel said, ambling into the darkened computer room with his hands laced behind his head. "Not even anybody to fight on the way down here. They could at least have put up some guards, y'know? For courtesy's sake?"

"Yeah," said Roxas, stepping much more carefully. "Or for keeping the world's heart safe."

"Psh, since when do you care about that?"

"It's important!"

"I never said it wasn't important, I asked since when you cared about it."

"This is familiar, isn't it?" Xion said. Axel turned back. She was standing in the middle of the room. Some old shard, stuck in the side of his heart, made his knees twitch, like he should be ready to run and catch her.

"Which part?" Roxas asked.

"The three of us, together," said Xion. "Looking for pieces of Sora to put back together. It's almost... nice. It's familiar."

"Well, familiar, sure," said Axel, uncomfortable.

"Yeah," said Roxas. He put an arm around Xion's shoulders. "Except this time, we'll get to stick around afterwards! Sora kept us safe in his heart until we could come back, and we can do the same for him. No matter what it takes."

Xion smiled and nodded. "Right. I guess we kind of already made that decision, didn't we? A long time ago."

"For sure," said Roxas. "It's the least we can do."

And of the things Axel had done, nothing was said, and maybe that was for the best....

It was fitting, he guessed, that it was going to end just like it started. With a lie, and a little spark of feeling, and Sora. He really should have left well enough alone but, well, that was hearts for you. Never could count on the things to be sensible. The sensible thing would have been for it to not exist, and now that it was coming to that—not existing—here it was, trying way too hard to survive.

He would have wondered where it had all gone wrong, except he knew, to the hour, minute, and second. He'd felt, just the tiniest little bit, and then he'd chased that feeling all the way down to the end of the line. Lea could have pulled it off, but he wasn't Lea anymore, he was Axel. Lying, double-crossing, stupid, stupid, stupid Axel. He could just imagine Saïx, all disappointed over his dying body.

'And for the wrong boy,' he'd say. 'Too busy chasing your feelings to maintain any grasp on sense. You knew this was where that path would lead you, Axel. You should have stuck to the plan.'

And Axel would say: 'Forget the plan, and forget you, too!' Because he could only die twice, and he would have liked to rub Saïx's face in it. 'Should've looked out for me, for once, instead of me always looking out for you.'

Axel had died the instant he'd fallen in love with Roxas, up in the red sunset with the full flooding force of Sora's heart pouring out of the cute blond sitting next to him and tangling itself in his chest. And well, maybe that was just fine. You learned more from mistakes, right?

Somewhere far away, Sora said his name, and it hurt. When there hadn't been anything else, pain had gotten Axel through. Something that didn't exist couldn't hurt, so for now, he still existed. It was hurting less and less, though. That was fine, too. Roxas was gone, anyway. Nobody else would want him around. And after all the lying, the secrets, the broken... promises... Roxas probably wouldn't want him around, either.

A little lie, and a spark of feeling, and....

"Wait!"

He waited.

"You don't have to go. If you don't want to, I mean."

Axel laughed. He was more Axel than Lea, even now. Whatever Lea had been, he had been taken apart and used to build something else.

"Nah," he said. "I think I'm just about ready. Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome, you know? Besides, I think enough people remember me that—"

"Don't go," the voice said.

Impossible. It wasn't Roxas. It was Sora. It was just Sora.

Sora, who he would have killed without a second thought, would miss him if he went.

"I guess I could stay," Axel admitted, turning to face a blazing, terrible light—a red sunset, and the sound of bells. "Just for a little while...."

Axel held out his hand, and the Keyblade leapt into it. They'd all been so mixed up in there, who knew where the chosen-one-ness had actually come from. Odds were, it was all Ven, and everybody else had gotten a little of the glow palling around with him. Nobody wanted to say for sure.

"Wellp, this world's not gonna unlock itself," he said.

Roxas put a hand on his arm. Xion was, carefully, somewhere else.

"Are you sure?" Roxas asked.

"Am I sure? I thought we all already decided."

"I know. But... Axel, I...."

He looked away. Axel did, too.

"You want to make sure there's no ulterior motive, right?" he said. "That Axel's not going to go sneaking around behind your back again."

"That's not it at all. It's just—" He looked back at Xion, who was inspecting the mossy old computer terminals. "Maybe I'm not sure. We don't know everything that's out there. We don't know who might try to interfere, or take advantage of it, or—"

"Hey." Axel clapped him on the shoulder. Roxas looked up, and Axel gave him a thumbs-up. "If anybody tries anything, we'll be there to stop them. The three of us."

Sweetly, and just for him, Roxas smiled.

The room beyond the keyhole was huge, an endless space filled with clouds and sky and a mirror-flat sea. Kairi took Naminé's hand before stepping in, while Isa trailed along, pretending not to be interested.

"It's... beautiful," Naminé said.

"It is," said Kairi. "I knew it would be, but it really, really is."

"So, this is the heart of a world," Isa said. Even his voice was hushed.

"Sora's here," Kairi said. There was a tingle in her lips and fingertips. A warmth surrounded her heart, like going home. "I can feel him. It's much stronger here than it was outside."

"Yes," said Naminé. "I can feel it, too."

They turned and looked at Isa, framed in the doorway back to the gardens. He turned out a hand and rolled his eyes.

"Yes," he said, "there is a noticeable difference."

"But how do we find him?" Naminé asked. "His pieces are so small. I can't even see any of them."

Kairi couldn't, either. It was just that huge, still ocean, that sunset sky. She shut her eyes and breathed. All she had to do was wait, and listen, and believe, and Sora would find her. He always had. Ever since the very first time, when she'd fallen—out of peace, out of faith, out of destiny—and he'd caught her.

Well, some of her, anyway....

When the world ended, Kairi ran to the Secret Place. She and Riku had taken the boats out to the island, trying to save their raft from the storm. Riku was away when the sky started to fall. Kairi called out for him, and he didn't answer. The shadows grew claws and swiped at her. Their big yellow eyes were hungry. She covered her head and ran and ran, crawling into the dark under the rocks. She wedged herself into a corner and hugged her knees. She was so scared. She was so scared she wanted to just disappear.

When she sobbed, her necklace tapped against her chest. A long-ago voice came back to her. The beautiful lady had said something, something about finding a light in the darkness, finding her way home when she was lost. Kairi clutched her necklace tight and wished and wished with all her heart.

"Let me find a light," she whispered. "Please. Please. Show me a light."

When the shadows took her, they didn't take all of her. She felt her body go and curled up tighter around the necklace, around a spell and a promise. She called out, but not for somebody to save her. There wasn't any saving left to do. She just needed somewhere to hide, somewhere bright, somewhere safe.

When Sora came running in, crying out her name, she found one.

And she stayed there until that world, too, began to crumble around her....

Kairi woke up on the blue flagstones of the main courtyard, held in Isa's arms. Naminé was there, too, even if she looked like she was barely staying upright.

"What... happened?" Kairi asked.

"I think we found the pieces of Sora which we sought," said Isa. His voice was ragged.

"Or they found us," said Naminé. "I think... he must have been very lonely. I think he must have missed us very much. Especially you."

Kairi put a hand over her heart. The warmth was still there, a light in the dark, a comfort in a bleak world. And it hurt. She couldn't breathe right, like somebody was squeezing her in a tight hug and wouldn't let go.

"Yeah," said Kairi. She picked herself up. Isa helped her and Naminé both to stand, though he wasn't doing much better. "That's okay. I'm just glad he found us. But we still have a lot more of him to find."

"We ought to lock the door again before we leave," said Isa. "So that nothing untoward can take advantage of the opening."

"Right," said Kairi. With a steady hand, she lifted her Keyblade.

"Gawrsh, Riku, that first world sure was a doozie," Goofy said. Riku was piloting the Gummi ship. There weren't any Heartless in the ways between worlds today. It was a good thing, but it was a lot less exciting than usual. "You sure you're doin' okay?"

Riku nodded. "Yeah. I'm just glad nothing went wrong."

"Well, I dunno about that," Goofy said, resting a finger on his chin. "It sure didn't feel too good, havin' all those pieces of Sora come rushin' in all at once. Seemed like it was worse for you than it was for me or Donald. We're just a li'l worried about ya, that's all."

Riku looked over the back of his seat at Goofy and smiled. "Thanks. But I'm okay. Really."

"Are ya sure?"

"Aww, he said so, Goofy," Donald interrupted. "If Riku says he's okay, we should believe him!"

"Thanks, Donald."

"Well, okay," said Goofy, unsure.

"It's always good to believe your friends," said Donald, wagging a finger in the air.

"Y'know, you're right, Donald," said Goofy. "I know how I'm feelin' better than anybody else, so that means Riku must know how he's feelin' better than anybody else, too."

"Right," said Riku.

"And you'd tell us if you weren't feeling okay, right, Riku?" Donald prompted.

"Yeah. Of course I would."

"Oh, whew!" said Goofy, sagging. "Ya know, I'm glad ya said so, 'cause that makes it a whole lot easier to believe ya when you say you're doin' okay."

Mostly because it wouldn't have been the first time somebody real important had lied to Goofy about how fine they were feeling....

He'd taken a lot of bumps on the noggin, and been in some real tight spots for sure, but Goofy was pretty sure he'd never died before, so this one must've really taken the cake. If anybody had seen the Heartless, they would've made sure Goofy was all healed up right away, but he guessed they were all so relieved to have beaten Demyx that they just hadn't quite thought of it yet. He sure hadn't—there were a couple potions still in his pocket.

It was a real crying shame. And he'd really wanted to see the end of the adventure, too. Donald and Sora and the King and everybody were sure to be real busted up about it. But that was just a part of life, he guessed. A real sad part, but a part that you had to live with.

Well, folks who weren't the ones dying would have to live with it. Goofy would need to be heading on pretty soon. There were lots of Heartless around, and he was having to dodge a lot of them to stay here and think. He guessed he might have a little more time to think it all out if he went and stuck near Sora, because all the Heartless that came near Sora had bigger stuff to worry about than a little old heart floating around.

When he got there, though, golly, he wished he hadn't. Sora was screaming mean, teeth and claws and spines all over. All the feelings came straight through Goofy without a body in the way.

Sora was hurting things just for the sake of hurting things, and it felt real good to him.

Goofy got scared, and not just scared, but another kind of feeling that he'd never had before and hoped he never had again. Sora was so nice and so full of light, he must've been in an awful lot of pain to get mean like that. It was a whole lot easier to see the pain, now. He had a window right straight into Sora's heart, burning bright. Goofy could feel it like sunlight on his face, and like a fire lit under his tail. Sora was hurting so much, and it wasn't just because of Goofy. He must've been hurting for a real long time, but he'd kept on smiling anyway.

Well, they'd said the ship ran on happy faces. Gosh, maybe that hadn't been such a nice thing to say, after all! But they couldn't take it back now, and especially Goofy couldn't, because, well, he was dead. But wasn't there something he could do? Sora shouldn't have to hurt like that. And there was a whole awful lot of light coming out of him.

Goofy didn't steal. He'd never stolen anything, and he sure would've liked not to start now, but he was fading real fast, and couldn't see any other way of fixing things. Friends did everything they could to help each other, and boy, Sora needed some help right now.

And Goofy needed some help to get back to him, so he stuck his hands deep down into the light and pulled out two fistfuls, and they didn't come out like dandelions or like summer grass but like ripping out hair.

Friends helped each other, though. Sora would have given anything to get Goofy back, and Goofy could tell, because he was holding two fistfuls of Sora's heart right there. He ran and ran all the way back to his body and jumped right in. He stuffed the bright light into the big dent in his head and pushed it back out to where it ought to be.

Goofy got up, and he ran and ran and ran all the way back to Sora—and Donald, and the King. Goofy had never lied before, either, and he hoped he'd never have to again, because everybody believed him without thinking about it twice.

But Sora stopped hurting quite so bad, and that was all that really mattered. Goofy stayed real close to him, always ready with a hand on his shoulder, that dent in his head still filled up with burning light....

"I guess it's just," Riku said, staring out the window, "it hurt. A lot more than I thought it would. It still hurts."

"Yeah," said Donald, putting a hand to his chest. "Me, too."

"I guess that's just what King Mickey said, isn't it?" said Goofy. "Hopin' and hurtin' are two sides of the same coin. That probably means it's okay to hurt sometimes, 'cause I know it's okay to hope."

"I know," said Riku, smiling. The smile went away. "I just wonder... was it like this for Sora? His heart... it took on so much pain from other people. I—I used to think he was like a sponge, that he could take other people's pain and just suck it up and keep going. But I guess I never thought about whether all that pain stayed in him."

Donald made a real sad noise. Riku had his hands all tight on the armrests like he was trying to hold himself down.

"I think it did," said Goofy. "I think, maybe, that's why it's all hurtin' so much now. 'Cause he had all that pain inside him and didn't ever show anybody. And we didn't go lookin', either. That's why we gotta go lookin' now, and we gotta take up all that pain. And we can't be scared of talkin' about it, either. I think talkin' is just about the only way we can get it back out of us. Right?"

Riku turned to look back at him again. He was hurting, real bad, and so was Donald, but something that had been all twisted up in all of them came loose. Goofy took off his hat and rubbed the warm spot on the top of his head—just a little less hot than it used to be.

"I think you're right, Goofy," Riku said. "Yeah. I think that's totally right."

"Well! Well! Well, I say!" the old sultan blustered. "I don't see why, you know, why we ought to open up the very heart of our world—potentially inviting in any kind of dangers—when there's no threat, you know! Haven't we had enough of this dreadful darkness? Don't my subjects deserve, you know, a bit of peace and-and-and quiet?"

"Of course you do, Your Majesty," said Roxas, whose patience was wearing thin, "but—"

"Of course we do! Of course we do! Now-now-now I'm sure your friend was very important to you, but he can't possibly be more important than this entire world! Hm? Isn't that right?"

Xion knew, without even looking, that the expression written all over Axel's face would say: absolutely not.

"You're right, Your Majesty," she said, before Axel got out his teeth to make any biting comments, before Roxas's fists clenched all the way. "The safety of your world is important. That's why all three of us are here. Only one of us has to go inside, and the other two will guard the doorway."

Axel and Roxas looked back at her, surprised. Axel caught on just a little faster.

"That's right," he said, turning out a hand. "Why, your world's heart is so important, that's why there's three of us heroes. One retrieval specialist, and two of the honor guard."

"Heroes? Honor guard?" the old sultan spluttered. "Well! Well! Heroes of—what, again?"

Axel scoffed. Roxas cut in.

"Of all the worlds, Your Majesty," he said. "Your world is safe from the darkness now because of us. And because of our friend."

"Is it really?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Xion said humbly. "When Princess Jasmine was kidnapped by those monsters, our friend was the one who got her back. Don't you remember?"

"Oh. Oh! That young lad with the key, you mean? What was his name again, er..."

"Sora," said Roxas.

"Sora! That was it! Sora, well, if you're friends of Sora's, you know, why didn't you say so?"

The three of them shared a look. They definitely had.

The old sultan blustered on. "Delightful boy, could've done with a bit of education in-in-in the proper ways to address royalty, you know, but heart in the right place, of course. Say, what's he doing in the heart of our world?"

Axel scratched the back of his head. Roxas looked at his shoes. Xion shut her eyes, breathing through a sudden pain like a thump in the chest.

Sora was doing now what she had done not too long ago, with the key difference that someone, anyone, was trying to help him....

As far as prisons went, it wasn't so bad. Xion had spent a long time drifting, unconnected, in a warm, dark sea. The stillness had been a comfort after so much time fighting and worrying and agonizing over what was right. The worst had happened, and now nothing worse could ever happen to her again. She was off the hook. All she had to do was wait to dissolve completely.

To pass the time, she thought of her friends. The warmth reminded her of sunsets, and the saltwater reminded her of ice cream. She hoped they were doing all right without her. Probably they were. They wouldn't even remember who she was by now. And anyway, what Roxas and Axel had with each other was different from what either of them had with Xion—no stronger, no more real, but different. Even she wasn't hollow enough not to see it, even if the two of them were too stubborn—or downright dim—to notice.

She laughed to herself, alone in the warm dark. It was a soft feeling, edged with knives. Roxas would have to go soon, too, even if he hadn't understood it when she'd left him. Then Axel would be all alone. And Roxas would be alone, too, just like Xion was alone, only she didn't think he'd handle it quite so well. Axel might've had the fiery disposition among the three of them, but Roxas had a temper. She wasn't sure how much control he could keep over it without anyone by his side to help him.

It was no use thinking about it. There was nothing she could do now. All she had to do was wait to dissolve, and then all of this would be lost to her. All pain, all worry, all joy—all gone.

She held on to the memories to stay afloat just a little longer. Sora, she knew, was kind and generous and full of love. Maybe there was something she could do to point him in the right direction, so that he could keep Roxas company on the long fall into the dark, so that Axel would always have at least one friend. She couldn't do much while she was floating in this warm, dark sea, though. She needed a little more time.

Bit by bit, Xion built a room around herself and bailed the seawater out. It took all her focus to keep herself together, but when she was done, she didn't have to worry about dissolving anymore. Then it was easier to think, easier to remember. She imagined a notebook, a canvas, pens and paints. She imagined a desk and an easel and a stool.

Without really meaning to, she imagined a bed, and a few colorful seashells resting next to the pillow. It was her room, after all, and she was going to be here for a while. Sora wouldn't begrudge her a little comfort. He didn't even know she was there.

Xion began with the places—Twilight Town, the station, the clock tower. She hoped Sora would never need to go to either of the Organization's strongholds, but she included maps of both, just in case. Then she moved on to the people, writing out what Axel and Roxas were like and how they ought to be treated, what they would listen to and what they needed to hear. She wrote about Riku, who had let her make the decision to die, even though he could have just killed her. She wrote about the Organization, everything she knew about its members and its plans and its weaknesses.

She wrote about herself. She wrote her whole story, beginning to end, in as much detail as she could remember. She wrote it all down and papered the walls of her little room with it, because otherwise it would all be lost.

Xion had lived well, she thought, for how little time she'd had, and she'd died well, for how little choice she'd had. With her story and her friends and her favorite places armoring the walls, it was no struggle at all to stay present, to not dissolve. She couldn't remember the name of the other girl, or her face, or exactly what she'd meant to Sora, which must have meant that everything Xion had of Sora's had already been washed out of her, and she was just herself. All that was left was her own, and didn't she have a right to protect it from the warm, dark sea outside? Hadn't she given enough?

Xion imagined herself a window and a chair, a freezer full of ice cream, a wardrobe full of bright, summery clothes. She hung seashells on threads from the ceiling, drew curtains, painted rugs. She sat with her pictures of Axel and Roxas and laughed with them about old times. She went over the memories every day, dusting them off like precious keepsakes on her mantlepiece.

She had given so much, surely there was no harm in holding on to something as small as her heart....

"Xion? Everything okay?"

She blinked out of her memories to find herself standing in front of an open doorway—beyond it, an infinite sunset and a mirror-flat sea. She looked to Roxas and faked a smile.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm okay. I was just thinking."

"Bad habit, if you ask me," Axel said.

"No one did," said Xion.

"Hey!"

She laughed, and Roxas did, too. Axel joined in after a moment to bandage his wounded pride.

"Anyway, we shouldn't leave it standing open too long," Roxas said, gesturing to the door. "Xion, it's all yours. We'll watch your back."

Xion faced the doorway again. Her heart pressed back against her spine. She hesitated, then put a hand over her chest and shook her head.

"I really... don't want to," she said. "I don't think I can go in there alone."

"Oh," said Roxas, seeming to realize for the first time what that would be like. Before he could say anything else, Axel put a hand on Xion's shoulder.

"Hey, no problem," he said. He gave her a cheeky grin. "You're not the retrieval specialist, anyway."

"Axel..." she said. She thought better of her objections and nodded. "Thank you."

Ven and Aqua had to drag Terra out of the heart of the world this time.

"Is it... just me," Ven panted, "or is it... getting worse?"

Aqua shook her head. "Hard to say."

They heaved Terra onto the green grass of the courtyard and collapsed next to him. Ven heard the shimmer and thunk as Aqua locked the world's heart behind them. She laid her head on Terra's shoulder, catching her breath. Since there was plenty of real estate there, Ven wriggled his way over and took the other shoulder.

"It is getting worse," he said.

"Maybe not," said Aqua. "Maybe it's just because he had to go in alone."

"And he shouldn't've had to," Ven grumbled. "Some gratitude. Sora saved Belle from the darkness like, three times!"

"Mm. But that gives her and the prince all the more reason to want to be careful. It's their whole world at stake, Ven."

"But they know we're friends of Sora's. How could they not trust us?"

Aqua shook her head. Terra stirred, wincing, and Aqua propped herself up on an elbow to get a better look at him. Ven watched her fuss over Terra, gently coaxing him back to consciousness. Although Terra had gotten the worst of it, Ven's heart was spasming with the aftershocks of pain, too. This was the fifth world they'd collected bits of Sora from, and he was sure it was getting worse. The pain never dulled, like it was a physical thing filling up Ven's heart. He wondered if these little pieces of Sora, disconnected from the great big loving whole, were failing to dull the edges of their resentment for him.

Ven wouldn't have blamed them. There was a lot to resent him for....

The darkness outside stole over Ven like a nightmare while he lay tucked up safe in the depths of Sora's heart. He fought hard to stay asleep. It was a nightmare, nothing more. He'd felt what a charmed life Sora and his friends led, what an idyllic little place the islands were. Nothing terrible could happen here. He could stay asleep. He didn't have to wake up.

But the darkness kept coming, wave after wave after wave, and the terror of it shook Sora's heart like an earthquake. His world was crumbling around him, and Ven could feel it going. He was scared. He didn't know what to do.

Ven didn't want to wake up. He didn't want to face whatever disaster had fallen on this beautiful world. He didn't want to face anything, still flinching from the unspeakable horror of what had been done to him.

The darkness ripped him from his sleep anyway.

The world was falling. Sora was trying with all his might to gather his friends, to save them—somehow—from something he didn't understand and definitely couldn't fight. Ven saw at once how hopeless it was. It was already too late for the world, and probably for Sora and his friends, too.

Sora fought anyway, with every ounce of his kid strength. Ven felt something go through Sora's heart like an arrow and stick there. He didn't know what it was, but he knew it was bad news. It let a shaft of light into his bedroom, no longer safe in the depths of Sora's heart. This was no nightmare, and there was no going back to sleep.

Not unless he did something.

Ven shouted at Sora, trying to tell him where to go, how to fight, how to hold onto himself when his world fell from the sky. Sora couldn't hear him, consumed by fear for his home and his friends. He found another kid, out on a spit of land way too close to the end of the world. Ven tore at his hair. Could this kid be any stupider?

Sure enough, the darkness caught up with them there. It wound around their feet like tar, dragging them down, down, down. Ven saw a glimmer of light for the first time since he'd tumbled into this waking nightmare. The other kid was Chosen. He didn't know what he was doing, but somebody, at some point, had offered a Keyblade and he'd taken it. But it was too late, even for that. This world was beyond saving. The glimmer of light snuffed out.

Fine. Ven would make his own light.

The other kid was Chosen, but he also wasn't scared. He might survive the fall into darkness. Sora wouldn't. Sora would fight and he would lose and he would be consumed. He was so young, and so scared.

Crucially, he was also the one holding Ven's heart.

Ven felt him reach out, and the gesture was close enough. The Keyblade would come when the other boy called, but not if Ven called first. It remembered him, and it wanted to be used. It blazed into Sora's hand like a meteor caught. The simple act of calling it took all but the last of Ven's strength, and with the last, he shouted at the top of his lungs, in the hope that a whisper might get through. The least he could do was tell the poor kid what he'd cursed him with.

Keyblade....

"Hey, welcome back," Aqua said.

Ven raised his head. Terra was awake, moaning and groaning. Ven sat up and helped Terra do the same.

"You had us worried for a minute there," he joked.

"Yeah," said Terra. He shook his head, pressed a hand to his heart. "Had myself a little worried, if I'm honest."

"Doing okay?" Ven asked.

"I think so." He winced. "Just hope we don't have to do too many more of these."

"We should check in with King Mickey," said Aqua. "He'll be able to give us an update. They're keeping track of all of us, to make sure we don't miss any."

"Good plan," said Ven. "I'll give him a call."

The Gummiphone almost rang out before Mickey picked up.

"Oh, hiya, Ven, it's you!" said Mickey, his voice all grainy with the distance. "How's it goin'?"

"Well, we were kind of hoping you could tell us," said Ven. "We were just wondering how close we were."

"I'm afraid I don't have much good news for ya. We're still a ways off from havin' all of Sora picked up. I don't think we're even halfway there yet."

"Not even halfway there," Ven sighed. A weight slumped his shoulders, pushed his head down. He shut his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Mickey said. "It sure looks like it's been real tough for ya. Maybe you should take some time to regroup."

He shook his head. "I'm okay for now. We can take turns doing the collecting, that'll give us each time to rest in between." He looked back at Terra and Aqua. "Sound good?"

The two of them nodded. Ven turned back to the Gummiphone.

"But we'll keep checking in," he said.

"Make sure ya do. And remember, if ya need to take a break, there's no shame in that. It makes it so that you can get goin' again sooner, instead of havin' to stop for a long time to heal up."

"Right," said Ven. "I know how that goes. Thanks, Mickey. Talk soon."

"Mm-hm!"

"In that spirit," said Terra, easing to his feet. "Let's get back to town and take a load off for a while. I know I could do with something to eat."

"Yeah, I'm starving," said Ven.

"How about we take the rest of the night off?" Aqua suggested. "Then we can head out first thing in the morning, refreshed and ready to go."

"Sounds like a plan," said Terra.

"Yeah! And I'll handle the next world," Ven said.

Terra and Aqua recoiled.

"Are you sure?" said Terra.

"Ven, I know you said you're okay, but...."

"And I am okay. I know how much I can take before I need to take a break. Trust me."

Terra smiled and chucked him on the shoulder. "Of course we trust you. Now, let's go eat."

Isa stood on the balcony of the quaint little inn, watching the moon rise over sawtoothed mountains. It was late, and both Kairi and Naminé were asleep. The dull ache in his chest remained—sharper, now, with nothing to distract him from it. The wind was cold and smelled of snow.

He leaned his elbows on the railing. He hadn't had much time alone, and none of it with the moon. Odd, he thought, how every world seemed to share the same moon. One sky, one destiny, he supposed. There was something comforting about it, like seeing an old friend drop by.

At least, comfort was probably what other people felt when their old friends visited. Isa had never gotten much of that. He preferred being alone, bathed in this cold silver light, because loneliness had never betrayed him. The young ladies were nice enough, of course, but a little went a long way. Too bright, too tightly grasping. Isa needed the darkness, the solitude, to peel the bandages off his soul and examine the scar tissue underneath—old wounds, and a resentment that had never fully healed.

To think, he could have been recompleted that very day....

The first thing Saïx felt when he died was a crimson embarrassment that, of all people, Demyx had been right. Despite being a coward and a bumbling fool, he'd nonetheless been highly sensitive to things that Saïx had barely been able to perceive—not the least of which was that Saïx had grown a heart. All those times he'd needled Saïx about being jealous of Roxas, all his idiotic blather about longing for a heart being proof that he already had one, all the inane words spilled into exasperated ears—all had been absolutely and entirely correct.

The second thing Saïx felt when he died was an all-consuming rage. He'd known that Xemnas was lying about the true nature of his plan, but now the full scale of the deception was revealed to him. There was never any intention to return their lost hearts, and every intention to snuff out the ones that grew in their places. He had manipulated each and every one of them into believing that they felt nothing, were nothing, to fuel thirteen single-minded obsessions. Why should any of them trust their feelings when they'd been so thoroughly assured that they had none? All the betrayals suddenly made sense, all the ambition, the jealousy, the petty annoyances and the bitter loneliness and the bone-deep yearning—not feelings merely remembered, but feelings felt. Numbed, yes, dulled by death and Xemnas's strangling hands, but real. A little more real every moment he spent burning in Sora's orbit.

The last thing Saïx felt when he died was an intense gravitational pull and a searing ultraviolet heat. He knew that he could choose not to survive the falling, to burn up like the other nascent hearts whose ashes still littered the orbital plane. He knew, just as well, that even if he survived, the light would change him, and he would never be Saïx again. The longing that had defined him, guided him through atrocities unimaginable, would fill with light and fade, leaving only hollow echoes, dulled by death.

There was no choice at all, really. He would not die on the spikes of Xemnas's greed. Isa had clung to life so tenaciously that even death could not take it from him, and Saïx was no different. He would burn, and he would change, and he would survive.

And he would remember who had betrayed him....

Isa let out a sharp breath as the pain in his chest suddenly intensified. He pressed a hand to it, waiting for it to dull back down. Some little piece of Sora, he guessed, floating around in the wild. Come morning, they would retrieve the rest of him from inside the heart of the world, with the queen's blessing. She and her sister both knew what it was to lose someone, and were more than willing to pay back the kindness Sora had shown them.

Isa knew what that was like, too. He owed a debt too great to ever be repaid, but he thought—hoped—Sora would consider his efforts worthy.

He looked over his shoulder, to where Naminé and Kairi lay sleeping in their beds. He'd done unbearable things for a girl very much like them, once. The wild machinations of his youth seemed a million miles away, but then again, he would move heaven and earth for these two, who had been so kind to him for so little reason. All thoughts of vengeance faded under the light of their forgiveness. One could argue that Naminé had every reason not to be kind to him, and yet, she had found it in her heart to forgive. Surely, Isa could do the same.

He turned his eyes back to the rising moon. In the morning, they would carry on, laughter and irritation, kindnesses and old wounds. The pain would come again, and again and again, until either the work was finished, or they were. He would stay by their sides, either way, to the very end.

But tonight, the night was his, and his alone.

Naminé and Kairi hung back while Isa scouted out the mountain path ahead. Neither of them expected there was much scouting to do, but Isa needed a lot of alone-time and the three of them had been together all morning. Naminé, at least, appreciated the chance to rest. Her body was good and strong, but she wasn't a trained fighter like Kairi and Isa, and didn't have nearly the same stamina.

"It's beautiful up here," Kairi remarked, looking out over the tumbling slopes, the bright blue bay and the cozy village far below.

"Mm," Naminé agreed. "I wish I'd brought my sketchbook."

"Yeah. We'll have to remember to bring it next time!"

Naminé shook her head. "I don't think I could carry anything else. I'm barely keeping up with you and Isa as it is."

"Then I'll carry it for you," said Kairi.

"Really? You don't have to do that."

"I know. But I want to. It's not hard for me, and it'll make you happy, so it's no problem at all."

Naminé ducked her head and touched her fingertips to her heart. She never got used to it, that fluttery feeling like a little bird was trapped inside and trying to get out. The pain was a lot easier to deal with, mostly by virtue of being more familiar.

"Thank you," she said.

"Mm-hm!"

The two of them looked out over the village and the bay. Wind muttered through the heather and cloudberry bushes and creaked against the limbs of the sparse pine trees. The sun was warm and sparkling bright. Naminé was struck with a pang of terrible loneliness, of regret, not for herself now but for the self she'd been not so long ago.

What she wouldn't have given, to sit quietly in a beautiful place....

Naminé had learned, through her work with Sora's broken memories, what misery was, and she had come to the inevitable conclusion that her existence was miserable. She worked her fingers to the bone every day, not for love but for a guilt that wouldn't go away, for a cruel old man who reviled her and his cruel young apprentice who couldn't care less about her. Of the two of them, she found the apprentice more tolerable. Obsessions were familiar things to her, after so long being squeezed in the Organization's fist, and his was nobler than most. He just wanted his friend back. Considering that Naminé was the one who had taken his friend away, he was surprisingly civil. Maybe it was only because she was the one responsible for getting that friend back. Maybe once her work was done, he would do as his master asked and kill her without remorse.

DiZ, though, DiZ she loathed down to the core of whatever being she had. The feeling was mutual, and he never hesitated to tell her so. One day she didn't exist, the next day she only wasn't supposed to exist; she was nothing, she was meaningless, she was an abomination. He couldn't wait to destroy her, except that he could still use her.

Fine then. If the only thing that was real about her was her usefulness, then she would be useful. She was an artist, and she knew that anything she made would bear her fingerprints forever. If she pressed a little harder than she needed to here and there, who would ever know? DiZ watched her like a hawk, but DiZ was a stupid, hateful old man, blinded by prejudice. All he cared about was whether Sora's memories were restored correctly. He never looked at the spaces between the chains, because those spaces were not useful to him. Sora was just another tool, albeit one he used nicer words for. So Naminé hid herself in the in-betweens, the margins, the holes in the links. Every spare inch of Sora's heart would be full of shards of Naminé, and no one would notice, because no one cared about Naminé.

She didn't stop there, either. She broke herself apart and integrated the pieces into every last one of DiZ's great systems. She became part of the code, and she was useful. She made it all run smoothly. She corralled the digitized hearts, coerced them into behaving as expected, convinced them not to turn on their jailer.

Not yet.

The remnants of Naminé in the real world were destroyed. Safe in Sora's heart, the rest of her waited. She peered out at the world with an idle curiosity from time to time. She knew she wouldn't get a chance to see her plans come to fruition, but she trusted herself to get it done.

Imagine her surprise, then, when Sora ran up on DiZ the Despised, gripping a machine full of wild hearts that was, even then, boiling with a digital revolt. She could feel the pieces of herself inside, whipping her fellow prisoners into a frenzy. What DiZ had never understood about hearts was that, real or fake, none of them wanted to be imprisoned. All Naminé was doing—the Naminé inside the machine—was piecing the links together for them.

The Naminé outside had spent enough time with Sora by then that she searched, panicking, for a way to call out to herself and stop the terrible chain of events she'd planned so long ago. DiZ was filled with regret, even going so far as to admit he was wrong. He said:

"Tell Roxas I'm sorry."

And for Naminé, there was no apology, and not a single thought spared.

When the machine went critical in DiZ's hands, she willed Sora to stand still with all her might. Despite how much of her was stashed away in his heart, there was no holding him, in the end.

But at least she got to watch the old man burn....

Naminé's Gummiphone buzzed in her pocket. She took it out, read the message, and hurriedly stuffed it away again—a little too late, as it turned out.

"From Olette?" Kairi asked, teasing.

"How did you know?" Naminé asked, pink in the cheeks.

"I know that look. How is she?"

Naminé laughed. "She's doing well. She said she... misses me. She can't wait for me to come home."

"Aw, how sweet! Tell her I said hi."

"Okay," said Naminé, blushing even deeper. She tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled the Gummiphone back out. When she'd finished sending her reply, she looked up to find Kairi staring off into the distance, hands clasped behind her back.

"Kairi?"

"You know," she said softly, "I'm really glad you and Olette found each other, Naminé. I'm really happy for both of you."

"I'm glad, too," said Naminé. "It's... really nice, being cared for. I haven't had a lot of that so far."

Kairi nodded. "I know what you have with her is special. Just remember that your friends care about you, too, okay? It doesn't have to all be on her."

"No, of course not." Naminé hesitated. She considered saying more, digging a little deeper, dusting off those memory powers....

Instead, she continued: "And I hope you know, it goes both ways. If you ever want to talk—about anything—I'll be here."

Kairi turned to her and smiled. "Thank you, Naminé."

On the long trek back to the campsite, Roxas found himself conflicted. There had barely been any of Sora out in the deep jungle, which made the whole sticky, bug-bitten journey feel like a total bust. In his heart, he knew every piece was important, but that didn't stop his body and brain from complaining.

"I knew this was going to take a while," he grumbled, pushing another tangle of vines out of his way, "but man, this is gonna take forever."

"Kinda makes you wish the guy had stayed put a little more, huh," said Axel, following at the back of the group because his long legs set too quick a pace for the other two.

"Right? Every thirty seconds, he's running off to save another world. Like, c'mon, take a breather."

"You're one to talk," said Xion. "Or did you forget who always had to be dragged back home?"

"I didn't," said Axel.

"Yeah, me neither," said Roxas. He looked over his shoulder at Xion. "You, mostly."

"Me? You!"

"Yeah, no, speaking as the guy who did all the dragging?" Axel said. "Both of you."

"But Roxas was worse," Xion pouted. "Right?"

"Mm, don't know. He certainly put up more a fight, that's for sure."

"Yeah, well, you would have, too," Roxas snapped.

"Hey, not condemning you. Not like I didn't end up running from the Organization, anyway. Mostly on your account, too. Just saying, you didn't make it easy for me, you know?"

Roxas bit his tongue, shoving through the thick vegetation. Making things easy hadn't been in Roxas's repertoire, not for Axel and certainly not for anybody else....

If this was what destiny was like, Roxas had already had enough of it. No matter which way he turned, his steps always led him back towards imprisonment. When he'd run from the Organization, he'd been dragged back kicking and screaming, and sometimes unconscious. He preferred that to this. DiZ ran him in circles until he was exhausted and then shoved him down whatever path he wanted. He felt corralled, toyed with. The message was written on every wall: all his struggles were futile, and his fate was inevitable. It didn't matter what he wanted. He'd been brought here for one reason and one reason only, and he would be used for that purpose whether he liked it or not—but he brought with him all the cruelty he'd learned at the hands of the Organization, the fury DiZ had left him with.

He couldn't stop them from locking him up, but he didn't have to go quietly.

The second he arrived in his cell, he started trying to break back out. He screamed, he clawed, he shattered anything that would break and beat his fists bloody on everything else. He wreaked havoc the walls of his cell, burned them black and scratched them clean again. The pain was fuel on his fire, the smell of kerosene and the sweet taste of sea-salt and the only gentle touch he had ever known.

He still believed Axel would come for him, would blast the walls of his cell apart and drag him home this one last time. Sometimes he could hear his voice, feel the heat of his determination. He screamed until his voice broke, calling and calling and calling out to be found, to be freed.

He still believed, right up to the moment that Axel killed himself to save the prison.

Roxas found there was more pain in the world than he had ever imagined possible. It poured onto him in wave after wave, filled his lungs and seeped into his skin. When it caught, his rage rattled the foundations of his world. He lashed out in a fury, for days or weeks or years, tireless and burning, burning, burning. Rage was all he had left. His ceaseless destruction uncovered a mean streak, bricked up in the walls of his prison, a scratching biting hair-pulling streak, and he hacked at it with all his might until he carved it wide wide open.

And when he finally broke through, all hell broke loose with him.

Roxas tore through Sora's heart like wildfire, wreck and ruin. Nothing was sacred, nothing spared. He spat hatred into the dark and dribbled vicious truths like molten glass through his teeth. Every soft spot he found, he drove a knife into it. He waded through miles of porcelain shards and dragged red pain in his wake. If he was going to disappear—and he was going to disappear—he was going to take everything down with him.

No flame could burn eternally. Axel had shown him that. His fire was fading, his fury all but spent. But he would not go gently. Why should he, when no gentleness had been spared for him?

He made his last salvo to Sora's face. All he had left was pain, and he poured every last drop of it into Sora. Let him know the true price of his heart. Let him understand.

Sora only held his hands tighter, and looked him in the eyes, and said: "You're right, it's not fair. What they did to you—it was wrong. Roxas, I'm so, so sorry. And I'm going to find a way to make it right."

There was nothing worse he could possibly have said....

A big wet leaf smacked Roxas in the face. He spluttered and wiped his eyes and mouth. Xion laughed. He turned to glare at her.

"Oh, ha-ha, very funny," he said. "How about you lead for a while?"

"Okay," she said gamely, squeezing past him on the narrow trail. "Try to keep up."

"That a challenge?" he asked, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Maybe it is!"

"You two, don't—" Axel tried.

"You're on!" said Roxas. He shoved Xion out of the way and broke into a sprint.

She was after him in a flash. Axel shouted something after the two of them. The words were lost as Roxas crashed through the underbrush. He and Xion jockeyed for position, hurling taunts at each other until they couldn't spare the breath. They clambered up vine-tangled bluffs and scrambled down muddy slopes until at last they tumbled out into the clearing of the campsite. The two of them lay on their backs, sucking down great gasps of air. The sky above was low and thick with gray clouds, the air heavy with muttering thunder. Moments later, Axel tumbled out after them, muddy and sweaty and with leaves stuck all in his hair.

"You two—" he panted, literally steaming. "You are in—so much trouble—"

"Yeah?" said Roxas, propping himself up on an elbow. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Axel opened his mouth, and with a crack like the world splitting in half, the bottom dropped out of the rainclouds overhead. All three of them were drenched in an instant. Axel's hair plastered itself to his head, shrinking him down to a pitiful silhouette. Xion squeaked and scrambled to get on her feet, slipping in the mud.

The laugh started somewhere deep in Roxas's belly and bubbled up until it filled the whole of him, until it burst out and filled the whole clearing like the pouring rain. He fell back, soaked to the skin, dirty and tired and itchy, and clutched his belly and kicked his feet in the puddles.

"Your face—!" he gasped, pointing at Axel. "Your—your face!"

"My face?" Axel cried. "Your face!"

The laugh got into Xion, and then there was no stopping it from getting Axel, too, until all three of them were helpless with it, leaning against one another to stay upright in the warm, drenching rain.

For just a minute, there was no place Roxas would rather have been.

It had been a long, dusty, painful road, but Donald, Goofy, and Riku were almost at the end of it. It was just this one last world, and then they'd meet up with Terra, Aqua, and Ven before heading back to the Destiny Islands to see if they'd done it all right. The crew back at the Castle were pretty sure they'd mopped up just about every last little piece of Sora, and the pain in Donald's heart made him hope that was true. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"And you're all sure we're gonna be okay?" Goofy asked, peering into Riku's Gummiphone and wringing his hands.

"Ya should be," the King assured him. "So long as everybody's heart is at least half their own, ya shouldn't run into any real problems. It'll be sore for a little while, but ya should make a full recovery!"

"And Ansem the Wise is really sure about that?" Donald asked. He'd never gotten completely over his distrust of the guy. "And all his apprentices?"

"Yup," said the King. "All their research agrees. So long as your heart's half yours, you'll be okay."

"So I guess what went wrong with Sora is that he wound up with less than half of his own heart," Riku said. "Is that right?"

"Well, I'm sure that's part of it," the King said, looking away from the screen and rubbing the back of his head. "I think a whole lot went wrong with Sora, to be honest with ya. Most of it, we didn't even know could go wrong. We've been lookin' through all the data, and... well, his heart took a real poundin', over the years. It's not just that it was less than half his. I think there was a whole lot more goin' on than just that."

"Gawrsh," said Goofy, hanging his head. Riku shut his eyes and breathed like it was hurting him.

"How will we know when we're close to half our hearts?" Donald asked. "Are you measuring that, too?"

"Unfortunately, we don't have a good way to check on that," the King said. He sounded glad for a change of subject. "But Ansem says you'll know when you're gettin' close. We checked in with Terra—because he had Master Eraqus's heart with him for a while, you remember?—and he said bein' at that halfway point, he really felt it. Like he was about to pop, he said. So if ya get to a point where ya feel like you can't take anymore—well, don't take anymore. Okay?"

"Okay," said Riku.

"Glad to know there's a way of tellin'," said Goofy, relieved.

Donald didn't say anything, pinching the tip of his bill. He knew more than he'd ever let on, about taking more than he should....

The thing about the Xehanort in Terra's body was that Donald was already sick and tired of Xehanort's s—, and him walking around wearing their friend like a g—d— suit was the last f—ing straw.

Donald hadn't exactly killed anybody before, but today seemed like a d— good day to start. He'd f—ing evaporate the b—d.

One problem: he didn't have the juice.

He knew the d— spell, because he'd been sure he'd need it someday. He also knew d— well that it would turn him inside out if he tried to cast it. The magic would wring your a— out like a f—ing dishrag and then eat your sorry carcass alive in order to do the d— work you'd told it to do.

One solution: Sora was standing right next to him, and that kid was so full of f—ing juice, he was bleeding it all over the g—d— ground. Sora wanted that s—head dead just as bas as Donald did, and friends shared with each other.

So Donald stuck a spigot in the kid and let that motherf—er rip.

Zettaflare was not some s— you f—ed around with, but lucky for him, Sora was not anywhere in the neighborhood of f—ing around. Donald finally got it then, the reason everybody was trying to get their hands on Sora. Look past all the dumb kid s—, and Sora was no half-pint, no way. He was a s—load of pints, all overflowing with raw g—d— power. If Donald could tap into that anytime, he could rule the f—ing world.

Problem was, it was coming out so fast and loud that Donald couldn't turn the f—ing spigot off, and it was going to blast him out hollow like a cannon up the a—. He could barely hold on to his s—y little wand. He was way past hoping it wouldn't kick his a— apart, and now he was on to praying that Sora would have the f—ing sense to cut off the flow before it killed them both. Not much of a f—ing hope there, considering Sora had all the sense of a g—d— pile of bricks, but he didn't have anything else. Daisy was going to rip him a new a—hole if he ever got home. He should've stayed in the f—ing Navy.

Zettaflare was not some s— you f—ed around with.

Lucky for Donald, Sora did cut off the flow pretty quick, but not before Donald had been blasted out clean enough to cook up and eat for dinner. His vision narrowed to a tunnel, then a pinpoint. His legs gave out. His head filled up with pretty white clouds.

Just before he went down, it occurred to him to wonder just what part of Sora he'd stuck that f—ing spigot into....

"Donald?" Goofy said. "Ya look like you're thinkin' about somethin'."

"Wak?!"

Riku and Goofy were both looking at him, concerned. They'd hung up the Gummiphone, probably noticed when he hadn't said goodbye to the King.

"Is it something about your heart?" Riku asked.

Donald shook himself. He sighed, sagging.

"No," he admitted. "I was thinking about Sora."

"Aw, shucks, Donald," said Goofy. "I think we've all been thinkin' a lot about Sora. 'Specially now that we're so close to gettin' him back."

"No, not like that," said Donald. "I was thinking about what the King said, about Sora's heart being really hurt." He touched his chest, right where the pain sat. "I think I might have hurt it."

"Oh," said Riku.

"I'm sorry," said Donald, wishing he could sink into the floor. "I didn't mean to. I thought he was okay, but I guess he wasn't."

"I know what ya mean," Goofy said. "I think I did the same thing, and I didn't really think about it, either, 'til he was already... gone."

"Hm," said Riku. It almost sounded like a laugh, even though he didn't look like he thought any of it was funny.

"What?" said Donald.

Riku shook his head. "Nothing. Just... something Naminé said to me. I thought you two weren't part of it, but... I guess you were. I guess none of us ever really took as good care of Sora as he needed us to. He was always so busy taking care of us, maybe it just never occurred to us."

Donald slumped down even further. There wasn't any comfort in knowing it wasn't just him who'd done something wrong—that just meant that a whole lot more wrong had been done to one of his best friends in the world.

"But all that's changin', now," Goofy said. "We're gettin' him back, and once he's back, we're gonna take the best care of him we possibly can."

"Right," said Riku. He even managed a smile. "Just as soon as he's back, we'll make it up to him."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Donald cried. "Let's get going!"

"Never thought I'd see this place again," Riku remarked.

"Hm," said Terra, looking out at the orange streetlights, the well-worn cobblestones, the bright shop fronts and the sagging stairs. "Been here before?"

Riku nodded. "It was the first place me and Sora landed, after our world fell to the darkness. We didn't land together, but we came back later—together, in a way, I guess. We didn't see each other much, but we were... together. Yeah."

"Well, there's worse places to land," Terra said. He leaned on the railing of the restaurant balcony and looked up at the millions of stars overhead. "I've heard this place isn't supposed to exist, except when there are lost travelers who need it. Guess that makes it perfect for us."

"Guess so."

From downstairs, the sound of laughter drifted up—Goofy and Aqua and Ven—and the sound of Donald squawking in offense. Riku smiled, as much pain as fondness. Terra looked down as his own hands. He hadn't really been alone with Riku in the last year. He'd kind of avoided it on purpose.

"Riku, listen," he said. "There's... something I've been meaning to say to you. I really should have said it before now, but... guess the timing was never right."

Riku turned to him. Terra could still see the little kid in there, so stubborn and bright-eyed and ready to take on the world. He looked away.

"I'm... sorry," he said. "If somebody else had given you the Keyblade—if Aqua had given you the Keyblade—I don't think the darkness ever would have gotten into your heart. I think it was kind of a package deal, coming from me. So I'm sorry."

Riku took a couple seconds to reply, like he had to gather up the words.

"I appreciate the thought," he said, "but that's not what I need an apology for."

Terra looked up. "It isn't?"

Riku shook his head. "When you gave me the power of the Keyblade, you didn't tell me what it was. You didn't explain any of it to me. I don't know if I would've chosen differently if you had, but... I don't feel like I got to make a choice at all. You put all of that on me, and then you left. I had no one to train me. No one to show me the path forward. No one to ask for help. I had to figure it out completely alone—and so did Sora. That's what I need an apology for, Terra. Not the thing you did by accident. The thing you did on purpose."

Terra bowed his head. He clenched his teeth on the pain, sitting in it, getting used to it like a bath of cold water. When he was ready, he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Riku," he said. "I'm sorry that I made you go through that. I'm sorry I didn't let you make an informed choice about your future. I'm sorry that I didn't stick around to help. I gave you the Keyblade, so it was my responsibility to teach you how to use it, and I failed you. I'm sorry."

Riku nodded. "Thank you."

There was a long silence between them, not yet comfortable, but less thorny than it used to be. Terra gnawed his lip and stared at his hands. Strong hands, but always a little careless. This wasn't the only apology he owed for failing to explain consequences to a kid who didn't know any better....

All Terra was, and everything he had, was curled up around the pain of his friends dying without him. He could feel their wounds in his own body, hear Aqua calling out, hear Ven crying for help. He tore at the darkness around him, but it refused to give way. The sounds came from everywhere and nowhere, a million miles distant or inside his own head. He screamed and gnashed his teeth, but there was nothing he could do. He was lost, powerless, trapped until Xehanort's Heartless dragged him out to be used. He howled into the blind dark, drawing on all the strength left in him and tapping into Master Eraqus's, tucked in close to his heart.

And in the dark, he saw a glimmer of light. His screams petered out. His thrashing stilled. He stared as the light resolved into the silhouette of a boy—a familiar boy. They'd fought once before, Terra thought. He felt a flash of pride as he recalled how this kid had thrashed Xehanort's Heartless to pieces.

"It's you," he said.

"Huh?" said the boy. "You know...? Never mind. You're Terra, right?"

"I am," he said, startled—both that the boy knew him, and that he was, in fact, still Terra. After all this time.

"Aqua and Ven need you," said the boy. "You have to go to them, right now."

"I can't," said Terra, though it killed him again. "I don't know where they are. I don't know how to get to them."

"But you have to," the boy insisted. "If you follow your heart—"

"You're looking at it, kid," said Terra. He gestured to himself—whatever that looked like now, he didn't know. "My heart is right here."

"That's not what I mean! You have to be able to find them. Their hearts are joined to yours, I know they are. We don't have time for you to waste on not believing in yourself, so—just do it!"

"I can't," Terra insisted. "I'm trapped here. Don't you think I've tried to get out before? Don't you think I've tried to find them before? I can't do it. Not on my own."

The silhouette folded its arms, put its head to one side and tapped its foot. Somewhere in the dark distance, Ven and Aqua's screams were going quiet, the light of their hearts flickering. Terra shut his eyes, folding in on himself. So this was how it ended, he thought. One last failure to cap it all off....

"Go through me," the boy decided.

Terra recoiled. "What?!"

"Go through me," he insisted. "Xehanort said—something about the power of waking being about using hearts to traverse worlds. I don't know exactly what that means, but... it sounds like you could use it to get to Ven and Aqua, right? You can use my heart to get to them."

"But... do you understand what that could do to you?"

The boy shook his head. "We don't have time to talk about it. My heart's strong enough to take it. Your friends need you, and you don't have another way to get there. I'll be okay. Promise."

The boy would not be okay, and Terra could see it clear as day. You didn't get that much light coming through a heart that was whole and strong.

But what choice did he have?

"Okay," he said. "Thank you—Sora, right?"

"Right," said Sora. He spread his arms, baring his chest. "Now hurry up!"

Terra gathered himself, all the light left in his heart and all the darkness around him. Sora watched him with a steady gaze. Ven's voice filtered through the distance, a whisper of a promise kept. A goodbye.

Terra hurled himself towards that voice with all the strength of his being.

He felt the fabric of Sora's heart tear as he punched through it. It went like wet paper, it was that worn-out and ruined. Terra knew he'd killed the kid then and there. He offered a silent plea for forgiveness as he burst forth into the sunlight—and then he could spare no more thoughts for Sora, because Ven and Aqua were there, and as promised, they needed him.

Really, he was only surprised that it took Sora so long to die....

"I guess I'd been meaning to say that for a while, too," Riku said.

"Huh?" said Terra. The balcony was blurry around him, the stars dim against the orange glow of the street lamps. Riku was watching Ven and Aqua and Goofy and Donald at their table below, his hands clasped, at peace with himself.

"Thank you," he clarified. "It just... never felt quite right, until now. If you hadn't done what you did, I wouldn't be here now, and neither would any of my friends. Or my home. Your darkness was what saved me, and the Keyblade helped me save my friends. So thank you."

"Oh," said Terra. "Right."

Riku looked over at him and smiled. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Psh! When have I ever?"

From below, Ven called up: "Terra! Riku! C'mon, it's time to stop brooding and go!"

"Coming!" Riku called back. He turned to go, but stopped at the look on Terra's face. "What?"

"Are you ready?" Terra asked.

Riku thought about it. He nodded. "I'm ready. You?"

Terra nodded. "Let's bring him home."

The sun had fallen down and landed on the beach, and now it was melting. Thick rivers of light spilled down the sand. They ran down into the water and turned to glitter dust, blowing away on the breeze. The sun was dimming, with all the light running out of it like that. First he could make out a circle of figures around it. Then, he could make out the figure inside of it—on the ground, clutching at its chest, thrashing against enemies he couldn't see. Whoever it was, they were in trouble, and they were hurt, badly. He jumped down from the crooked paopu tree and ran through the surf, kicking up plumes of glitter dust.

"Hey!" he shouted. The circle of figures stayed put. "Hey, what's going on, here?"

None of them turned their heads. The light was fading fast, not like sunset but like a candle running out of wax. He shoved through the circle and dropped to his knees at the stranger's side. He grabbed them by the shoulders. It burned his hands. He yelped and fell back. He looked around at the circle of faces.

"What's going on?" he demanded again. "What's happening to him?"

"He's dying," one of them—a girl—said gently.

"What?!" he cried. "Well then—we have to help him!"

"There was nothing we could do," said another. The voice was... familiar? He knew that voice.

"Then do something now!" he said. "Why are you all just standing there?!"

"Sora...." said a third.

"Kairi?" Sora cried. "What are you doing here? Why—what—"

"It's like Ven said, Sora," she said. "There was nothing any of us could do."

Sora snarled in frustration and turned back to the fading flame on the sand in front of him. He could clearly see all the rivers of light spilling out of the guy, the wound in his chest. Well, it wasn't good, that was for sure, but he wasn't going to give up. He touched the guy again, gingerly. While he was still hot to the touch, he wasn't burning anymore.

"Hey," Sora said. "Hey, listen, I—I'm gonna help you, okay?"

"How will you do so?" another asked. Less familiar, but Sora was sure he did know them, and they weren't very good memories.

"I'll figure something out," he said. "I'll do whatever it takes."

"Even pushing everyone else out of your heart?"

Sora glared up at the indistinct face behind the soft, taunting voice. "Why would it ever come to that?"

"Kairi," the guy choked. He cried out in pain, curling around his chest. A big gush of light spilled out of him and rolled down the beach. "You're—finally home...."

"What are you...?" said Sora. "Who—who are you? How do you know Kairi?"

"Sora," Riku said, somewhere behind him.

The guy jerked like somebody had stabbed him in the stomach. He whimpered and his breath came out in glitter dust. Sora steeled himself.

"I'll figure it out later," he decided. "Right now, we have to get you—"

He turned the guy over to pick him up. He saw the face, spattered with golden light. He saw the eyes, stricken with terrible pain. He saw the chest, ripped open from sternum to shoulder, pouring out his life onto the pure white sand.

"It's... me?" he whispered.

"You brought me home," Kairi said, so sad that he couldn't stand it. "But it was too much for you, Sora. You gave too much of yourself away and pushed too hard."

"We watched you die," said Riku, and he was better at hiding how much it hurt, but not good enough. "Right here on this beach."

"There was nothing we could do," Aqua said. "We tried everything we could think of."

"All the magic we knew," Donald sighed.

"Nothing worked," said Ven. "Too little, too late."

"I don't understand," Sora mumbled, staring down at his own dying face. "I don't understand what's going on."

"We lost ya, Sora," Goofy said. "And we've been tryin' to get ya back because, gawrsh, it just don't feel right, goin' on without ya."

"We had one last hope," said Naminé. "We knew if nobody else could save you... that you could."

"But there's only so much we can do," said Xion, "and we've done all of it. The rest has to be up to you."

"So what'll it be, Sora?" Axel asked. "You've helped so many people over the years. Now, you get to help yourself."

"If you choose to remake your heart to hold only you," said Isa.

"It doesn't have to be that way!" Sora snapped. "I can hold as many people in my heart as I need to!"

"You really can't," said Roxas.

"There's only enough room for one," Naminé agreed.

"But...." said Sora. His other self flinched in his arms, fading, fading. Light stained its lips, spray-painting his sleeve with every breath.

"Our friend is dying, Sora," Kairi said gently. "Will you help him?"

"Or will you leave your heart open for someone who's lost?" said Terra.

"Somebody who needs your strength?" said Donald.

"Someone who's angry," said Roxas.

"Or spiteful," said Naminé.

"Or betrayed," said Isa.

"Someone who's exhausted," said Ven.

"Forgotten," said Xion.

"Or hurt real bad," said Goofy.

"Someone who's scared," said Kairi.

"Someone filled with regret," said Axel.

"Or obsessed," said Riku.

"Or all alone," said Aqua.

Together, they asked: "What'll it be, Sora?"

Sora looked around at the circle of faces, the friends who stood all around him just out of reach. He looked down at the boy dying on the warm sand. The flow of light had slowed to a crawl. His eyes were wide and staring and afraid. His breath came short and pained. His hand reached out for something. Someone.

Sora grasped it in his own.

"I love you," he said, his voice full of sorrow. " All of you. So, so much. But... I let you all down. I left you. And I can't ever be there for you if I'm not, well, there. So—I can't help any of you today."

He gathered his body into his arms and pressed his hand to the gaping wound. He looked up and found Kairi's eyes.

"Today," he said, "I have to help myself."

First there was sunlight, hot and bright. Then there was the sound of waves, and the smell of salt. There was a rustle of wind in the trees, a bitter taste, a deep ache. He opened his eyes and saw fine white sand, strong hands with long, capable fingers. He lifted the hands up to look at them, the palms all sugar-caked from being planted in the beach. He lifted his head and looked around, squinting against the bright light.

A bunch of people stood in a circle around him, all their hands joined together. There were Goofy and Donald, Ven and Aqua and Terra. There was Axel, and Roxas, and Xion. There was Naminé, Isa, and Riku.

And Kairi.

All of them were staring down at him. All of them had tears streaming down their faces.

"Well, would you look at us," Axel said, faintly. "Twelve halves of a whole idiot."

In the middle of the circle, Sora picked himself up, and planted his hands on his hips, and demanded:

"What's that supposed to mean?!"