Chapter Text
It was a lazy Thursday afternoon in Twilight Town, and Sora was taking some much needed time off. After all, how often was it they had everyone in one place?
"Okay everyone! Say 'Tonberries'!" He grinned into the lens of his Gummiphone. Having amassed what felt like half the town into one place for a group photo, this was an act of delicate timing and finesse.
"Tonberries...!" A chorus rang out behind him, and he carefully balanced the Gummiphone against some stone steps. The timer clicking away, he made a few double checks before dashing off to join everyone else;
Everyone was in the frame? Check
At least attempting to smile? Check
Right time of day? Check
Stretching a massive smile across his face, he knelt down amidst the bundle of friends, locals and acquaintances alike. Any second now...
"Sora!" A haggard old voice rang out across the town centre, and it was Scrooge McDuck who burst out of nowhere. At just the wrong moment, of course.
"What're you doing, slacking off like this?" He yelled, as the photo huddle slowly disbanded.
"Uh, taking a photo with my friends?" Sora sighed. Respecting your elders was one thing, but they could've at least been nicer to him...
"You what?" Scrooge frowned. "Oh, so that's why you'd left your phone on the wee step over here? I thought you'd gone mad!"
"Not just yet!" Sora kept his smile.
"You see, back in my day, phones and cameras were separate things, Sora! Anyway, I'm wantin' your help, boy! Come with me!"
Without another word, Scrooge marched off in the opposite direction, and Sora supposed he had to follow. Sharing a shrug with Donald and Goofy, he retrieved his phone again to check the photo... only to find that Scrooge had ruined that too. His blurred, angry visage had kidnapped half the picture, all bulgy-eyed and underexposed against the backdrop of... everyone else.
"He sure has his moments, huh?" Sora grumbled, pocketing the phone.
"You're telling me!" Donald chuckled, just as another beckoning holler derailed his attention;
"Soraaaa!"
"I'm coming already!" Sora cried back. "Geez, whatever's wrong, it must be important..."
Trudging through Twilight Town, Sora followed the angry voice, and ended up outside the Bistro. Scrooge was just as haggard and livid as before, resting against his staff and tapping one foot.
"Take the scenic route, eh lad?" He shook his head. "Honestly, ye can't buy the help."
"To be fair, Mr Scrooge," Sora folded his arms. "I never said I'd help you. You just sort of barged in and yelled at me."
"Well how else am I gonna get your attention?" Scrooge shot back instantly. "Ask?"
"I-it'd be nice? I mean, I've got my own things to do, y'know?"
"Nonsense!" Scrooge scoffed. "Anyway, I've a problem, Sora. And I believe you're the man to fix it for me."
"I still haven't said I'd help, y'know." Sora said.
"Fine," Scrooge glared back at him. "Please could you help me with m'problem? It's not like you've anything else to do!"
"I've got lots of other things to do, actually!" Sora cried. "But fine, lemme hear your problem...!"
"That's the spirit," Scrooge cackled, and marched into the restaurant. Sora guessed he had to follow. Again.
"He's not normally this pushy... is he?" He whispered to Donald on the way through the dining room.
"It depends on the problem I guess?" Donald shrugged. "Like, there was one time he-"
"We've no time for family history, thank you Donald." Scrooge cut in, again. "Now, Sora. This here. This is my problem."
With a wide armed flourish, he introduced Sora to the back wall of the dining room.
"It's... it's a wall." Sora frowned at him.
"Aye it's a wall. That's not the problem." Scrooge sighed. "The problem is that it's empty! There's nothin' on it, man!"
"I can see that. So you... want me to put something on the wall? Cause I gotta tell you, I'm no art-"
"Not you, ya blaggart!" Scrooge massaged his forehead. "I want you to find someone who's not you! Like, I dunno, a talented artist or whatever!"
"Me?" Sora pointed to himself, filing away whatever a blaggart was. "But aren't you some international man of culture? Who's been everywhere, knows everyone, can do anything?"
"Yes yes, I'm fantastic and we all know that." Scrooge huffed happily. "But unfortunately for the world, I'm limited in how far I can travel. You, who's been to the realms beyond the beyond, you've been to places that even I cannae dream of. So with all your worldly experiences, I'd like you to find me an artist! They must be creative, convivial, and most importantly lad, they must be cheap!"
"Uncle Scrooge..." Donald groaned.
"Oh, shush Donald. It's the family way," Scrooge brushed him off. "So what do you say, Sora? Could you help fill this void in my life?"
"Well when you put it that dramatically..." Sora itched his head. "I think I might know a couple people. Do you have any problem if they're, like, a small child?"
"...how small?" Scrooge narrowed his eyes.
"Uhh..." Sora squinted back at him. Lifting a shaky palm, he let it rest about his shoulder. That felt about right. "This small?"
"Huh. So basically just as small as you," Scrooge snorted. "Fine by me, Sora! A win's a win! Child labour laws, after all!"
"Right, right..." Sora deflated. Oh well. At least this way he could see if it worked. Rattling through his pockets, he extracted a simple silver ring on a chain, then held it to his forehead.
"There's not an artist in that necklace, lad," Scrooge grimaced at him. "...is there?"
"Sort of I guess?" Sora shrugged. Closing his eyes and focusing, he could envision the splotches of paint, daubing his peripherals like a glossy rainbow.
"What's he doing?" Scrooge groaned, and the rainbow of paint in Sora's mind shuddered.
"He's concentratin'!" Goofy said.
"Well that's not gonna get me an artist now, is it!"
"Just shush and watch, Uncle Scrooge!"
"You don't shush me, I shush you, ya nebulous ninny!"
"Why I oughta-"
With increased tension and scuffles, followed by the smashing of what sounded like a plate, Sora was understandably finding it harder and harder to concentrate. The painting collage in his head was getting increasingly muddy and distorted, swirling, darkening, distorting into some other beast entirely.
"Sora?!"
"Donald!"
"Sora!"
"Goofy!"
"Sora...!"
The voices faded away, and Sora opened his eyes. The Bistro was nowhere to be seen.
And nor was... anywhere else. anything else. Anyone else.
The evening sun wept in a barren, purpling sky, and the ground beneath him was limp and lifeless. Dusty, cracked and unsteady, as if it were ready to collapse at any moment. Confusion bubbled as Sora looked around. Nothing in every conceivable direction.
"Where am I?"