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“Angel of Twilight: Clockwork Breakdown”	By : HappyDragon Category: Kingdom Hearts > Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 8242 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Key:
“Talking aloud.”
‘Thinking to one’s self.’
::Denotes sound effects:: ::and actions.:: Only used during speech.
Major P.O.V./Scene Change: * * * *
A/N: My notes/comments/ramblings
Chapter Start/End: ------

A/N: [[Removed to comply with new AFF guidelines. Please see the MM.org version for full A/Ns: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/156268]]

Rating: pg-13/16, depending on how you feel about characters discussing rape.

|Spoilers|: There are some light spoilers for all three games. Basic plot summery of CoM, meaning heavy CoM spoilers. Like, half of Riku’s story is summarized in here.

|Warning|: The usual. Beware OOC-ness.

Betaed by: ‘Dark Light’ and ‘DragonLady’

Criticism: Constructive only. Non-Axel flamers need not respond.

Reviews:
Higuchimon: Once again, thank you. ::Bows:: Ah ::sheepish grin:: so my perception of Ansem ‘n’ Riku doesn’t suck too badly? ::Does little ‘v’ for victory sign:: Cool, I was afraid my reasoning had been off. Yeah, Riku . . . well you’ll be able to see this chapter. ^.^ And there shall be so much more. Bwahahahahaaaaaa!

QueenAdreena: ::Blush:: Ah, ah, you’re too kind. Yes, long chapters = love. . . . And mega rabid-boy-luvin’s. XD But that’s something for next chapter. And things should be getting progressively longer from here on out--chapter wise.

Kage: With pleasure! Just be careful, we all know that Ansem would gladly use anyone’s love for him to turn their heart to darkness so that he might have a new pet (kitty)! Damn evil sexy bastard . . . .
-----------------------

“Angel of Twilight; Clockwork Breakdown” Part 3/?
‘Break of Dawn’

By nature, Mickey was an early riser. He particularly enjoyed watching the sunrise--with the proper glasses to protect his eyes, of course. He didn’t get up much before the sun, and due to ‘world-hopping jet-lag’ he’d sometimes awaken as the orb was climbing over the horizon. Either way, he’d watch the sun, take a shower afterwards, take care of any other business he had in the bathroom, then grab himself a mug of O.J. to sip with the morning paper--if the world had such things, but any quiet form of news and juice drink would do. Better to know the kind of world you were wandering around before you stepped out the door each morning.

This meant he was always up before Riku because, as like any growing teen the boy needed his sleep. Usually an hour or two extra. But there were times, since the boy started fighting the shadow in his heart, that Mickey would consider waking him. As accurate as it might be, he refused to think that his good friend ‘Ansem the Wise’ had truly succumbed to darkness. He’d tried to convince him to end his research of the darkness countless times before! Yet, apparently, it had been to no avail. And it grieved him to know that his friend Riku was suffering for it now. He could do little to help him fight. If Riku lost to the darkness, he could bind it back in place and buy him another day to fight. But only the teen could ultimately defeat the shadow haunting him.

He could help, but he couldn’t save him.

Some days, just some days, he contemplated the offer Naminé had made his friend. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad deal if Riku could finally be free of the tainted darkness. And he had been watching over the worlds before the three children had even been born, so what was the harm if Riku went to sleep and left him a lone sentry again? But . . . he knew that the choice was not his to make, more so since Riku would lose the power of his darkness if he forgot everything.

A lose-lose situation.

He casually glanced over at the boy, who had managed to turn himself into a “human burrito” over the course of yester-night. Mickey smiled. It was cute, but even when fighting in his sleep, he never moved about much. Or if he did move about, it was never enough to awaken the King-blade. Nor did he make any utterances in his sleep: no groaning when he got hit by the shadow’s attacks, no laughing when his own attacks struck back. The child was always silent throughout the night.

Silent and still like the grave.

Perhaps this past battle was extra vicious?

Or maybe he had at last been allowed to dream?

He would ask when the child awoke--which the movement he’d just caught seemed to suggest was happening now.

Mickey turned back to the paper--he was sitting in the chair by the table--allowing Riku the privacy of the moment to collect himself. He waited for the traditional greeting that the youth always called out with to signal his awareness of the world.

And he waited . . . and waited . . . and . . .

The King frowned. Something felt . . . off. He turned to greet Riku instead, and the words died on his lips.

The child’s eyes were red and puffy from tears, his face literally gleamed in the lamp light. There was even dew left on his lashes. He was shaking from nonexistent cold and was just staring down at himself, hair as much of a wreck as the low-maintenance silken mass could be in the morning. But he was utterly silent, with a lost look in his eyes. The hurt . . . Mickey couldn’t understand the emotions he saw therein. Slowly, almost painfully, the teen lifted his un-gloved hands for inspection, as if questioning their reality.

And then something unthinkable happened.

Riku reached down with his right hand and placed it in a very personal spot on his body. He shuddered at the contact and bit his lip, like it physically disgusted and distressed him. Then, he turned his head to glance down his back, moving his left hand to slide it over his backside and under himself. Mickey couldn’t read the expression on his face because it was turned away from him, but he could see the jerking of his shoulders that grew in intensity with each passing moment. Suddenly, the teen ripped his hands away from his body to his face, burying it as he silently cried.

The King was dumbfounded.

Riku turned to face the wall near his bed. There was about a foot gap between the two, so the child could leave his bed from either side. He opted for the right side--facing the wall--and standing, informed the other room occupant--whom he’d never once glanced at this entire time--that he was going to go use the shower and that he might be awhile.

Then he flew to it as though Cerberus was on his tail.

King Mickey was at a complete loss. He didn’t even want to entertain the implications of what was causing the teen’s odd behavior. He was at the right age, after all, so he could just be embarrassed by a natural life process that humans went through. But, he thought as he placed the paper down and walked over to the bed, that didn’t explain the fear and loathing he’d seen within turquoise eyes. And there wasn’t a wet spot on the bed, nor in the quilts he’d twined himself in. Mickey thought the only other logical conclusion was that Riku had a particularly bad nightmare, one that would be hard to shake for the rest of the day.

Over the sound of running water, just barely audible, he heard the teen’s broken sobs.

* * * * * *

As soon as he was in the bathroom, he’d locked the door and stripped. He didn’t bother looking in the mirror for fear of seeing the evidence of what the monster had done to him--oh gods, he had done that to him! He just turned the water on as high, as hard, and as hot as he could, and was about to climb in when the last little rational part of him said that he’d just be hurting himself if he did that. So Riku opened up the cold tap, just enough to keep from cooking himself, and when he could stand the water, he climbed in.

Only then did he let himself weep.

Ansem had touched him! Had used him! Had . . . he’d fucked him three times over. And he still felt him, buried inside his body.

It was horrible this morning. He was alone in darkness--for a minute, he was afraid that he’d woken up in the psycho’s arms again.

Yes, last night, after he’d passed out from sheer exhaustion, his mind overused and unused to sex, he’d been blissfully dreaming of his times on the Destiny Islands. He had felt so warm and so safe, and then the dream had ended. But he hadn’t quite woken up.

Instead, he found himself back with Ansem, the man wound around him in sleep. Their lower bodies were unchanged--the bastard hadn’t even pulled out of him!--but the dark man had kept his upper body to the side--to the teen’s right. Riku presumed he didn’t want to crush his host while sleeping, for fear of rendering the vessel useless. But the man had a death grip hug on him, around his arms and torso. And his head was tucked against the crook of Riku’s neck.

Ansem was breathing softly, almost noiselessly, deep in his own dreams. And the teen had just been staring at him and staring at him while trying to get his arms free so he could summon the Soul Eater and kill the asshole for what he’d done to him. But he’d missed his chance.

The orange crescent of a glowing harvest moon came into being from under the scholar’s lid. It was as if he could tell that his bed-mate had “awoken” and was contemplating his imminent demise. A slow blink later, the crescent moon became a half moon, a full one, then back to half as Ansem woke enough to speak.

“Sleep.” The word was purred more than pronounced and heavily laced with drowsiness. But the tone . . . the tone was like--like . . . he didn’t know, but it wasn’t an order or a command or anything harsh. It was like, just like, the gentle nudging he’d received hours prior. And the man wasn’t about to pass back out before him.

So there he was, with Ansem embedded in him and hanging half off him, cuddling him like some soft thing. It was sickening and compassionate and he was just too tired to reach over and rip out his throat. What he wouldn’t have given for the energy to end him.

He fell back into his dreams, only to awaken to the real world in darkness. Luckily, he’d surmised quickly that the darkness was being imposed on him just from his blankets, and nothing more. But after everything he’d been through, he wouldn’t mind an army or eight of heartless to fight.

His body was tender. His body physically hurt.

And he could still feel the bastard’s hands on him.

So he allowed himself to weep because it just felt like the logical thing to do.

* * * * * * *

Eventually, the water got cooler, so Riku had to finish scrubbing himself down--no matter how hard he tried, the man was still there--and then drew a bath for himself. He just felt so cold inside and didn’t want to leave the water until he felt warm and clean again. A part of him knew that wouldn’t happen, but he wished he could pretend. Maybe, if he thought about it hard enough, it would happen, and then he could go on with his life like last night never was.

King Mickey had called in on him so many times that he’d stopped counting. Riku had just reassured the sovereign that he’d tell him what was wrong when he got out. But he still didn’t know how to word things, being blunt might . . . no, don’t think like that, he couldn’t think the King would hate him for this. It wasn’t like he wanted the dark one inside him, touching him, doing what he did. But . . . even if it was against his own will--against his own morals--his body had . . . eventually accepted, even rejoiced at what had been done to it.

Gods help him, some part of him had awakened to the carnal desire. And it wanted to do it all again. But, damn it! Not with Ansem! Never with the bastard again! He wanted Kairi! Kairi, Kairi, Kairi! . . . and . . . Sora. He . . . he wanted to do things with Sora as well, things he couldn’t do with Kairi. But he also wanted to do things with Kairi that he knew he couldn’t do with Sora. Guys didn’t have an opening . . . between their legs. He’d heard things about coupling from some of the older island kids. . .

Riku shook his head, trying desperately to calm himself. Gods above was he ever confused.

::Knock, knock, knock.::

“Riku?”

“I’m sorry, your Majesty,” the teen called hoarsely, “but I--”

“I’m sorry, too, Riku, but I’m coming in.”

That made him start. “But the door’s locked!?”

“Forgive me, but the Keyblade can open and close any mundane lock.”

Then silence stretched between them. Riku had already pulled the shower curtain closed when he climbed into the tub, to keep the water from soaking the floor.

“You . . . need to use the bathroom? If you give me a few minutes, I can get out.”

“No, Riku, I’m fine.” And he heard the ::clink:: of metal on metal as the lock was opened. “But, I don’t think you are.” And he could hear the other pad in. From behind the white plastic curtain, the silvery teen watched the mouse’s shadow move from the door to the toilet. He took purchase there, but didn’t make a move towards the opaque barrier.

The white chair was by the head of the tub, where the showerhead was. Riku was by the other end, curled into a ball to conserve as much heat and modesty as he could. Mickey stayed silent, and at last, Riku’s curiosity got the better of him. He pulled open the curtain at his end just a crack, peeking around the veil.

The King was sitting serenely and silently on “the throne”. He was being patient, face a relaxed mask of concern. But the eyes, Mickey’s eyes were always inhumanly expressive, and there was true fear and worry in them. The sovereign noticed the discreet movement because he was suddenly looking at him, eye to eye. Riku dropped the curtain closed without a moment’s hesitation.

Mickey sighed. “I’m worried about you.”

“I . . . don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“I know. And I’ll wait. However long.”

“I’m sorry for taking so long.”

He gave a light giggle. “Well, you may not be aware of it, but you’ve been in here for about three hours now.”

“Really? How long do I usually take?”

“Half an hour . . . if you’re pacing yourself.”

Riku had to lightly laugh at that.

“Well, good to see you haven’t lost your humor.”

‘Lost . . .’ The tears started before he even raised his hands to muffle the sobs.

“Riku?!”

He broke at the word, unable to hold it in any longer.

“He--he! He touched me. He had his way with me! I didn’t--I couldn’t tell what he was doing, and he had me--he Had me! One minute, we were fighting and bickering, and the next, he had me glued into a shadow-wall, and I couldn’t move, I couldn’t fight, and no matter how loud I screamed, I couldn’t wake up! He was just bigger than me and heavier, and I couldn’t stop him, I couldn’t make him stop! I couldn’t focus on my light to protect me, and nothing I did helped--he broke the armor, like it was marzipan, like an eggshell! Then he was inside me--not just my heart, my body! And it hurt, it hurt so much, but he wouldn’t stop; it was like he was hammering me into the wall, and then there was a chair out of nowhere, and he forced me to react--he made me, made my body react! And want it! And then he formed a bed out of shadows, and--gods help me he had me pinned down and trapped, and I couldn’t do anything to him that he didn’t want done. I had to lay there and take it and take it, he could have crushed me, but he just used me until I couldn’t take it anymore. And I couldn’t stop him, I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t . . .”

His hands at last came away from his face, eyes staring dejectedly at the water slowly cooling about his body as the heat was being leeched away by the sterile porcelain.

“At the end, it was like someone had taken the distilled essence of a lonely winter night and pumped it up my back and into my veins. I . . . I’ve never felt so hot and so cold at the same time in my life.”

Outside the protection of the curtain, the King’s face had become contorted with rage. To think that the beast had done such a thing as to desecrate a child! His fingers had curled into fists, and his lips were nothing more than a pencil thin line of black. For the first time in his life, he could easily say that he hated, actually hated [1], another living being.

“Riku,” he strained to keep his voice calm and even, “I want you to understand something. I’m in no way upset with you, nor do I blame you for what happened. There is nothing in my heart for you but the utmost care and respect. This doesn’t change my opinion of you, but it does change my opinion of . . . the presence inside you.” It no longer had the right to a name or identity. “Riku, I will do everything in my power to help you get through this and to help you destroy it. It cannot control your mind, or you wouldn’t be talking to me right now. And if it can’t control your mind, then it can never beat you. As long as you exist, I will stay by your side, no matter what.”

The teen sniffled slightly, grateful for the King’s words. He’d been so afraid that the other would abandon him “out of hand”--on principle alone, for being tainted by the man.

“Your Majesty,” he breathed out shakily, “thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me.” It was hard to control his rage at the thing. “I would never abandon a friend--especially one in your need. It would be unconscionable. What was done to you, in conjunction with your age, is a crime of the superior order throughout the known worlds. What that thing in you has done is tantamount to violating the sacred order of nature. And that order even trumps the ‘World Order Rules’ that we Keyblade wielders--and other world travelers--must obey in our wanderings.” Mickey’s eyes narrowed. “It has essentially forgone its right to exist.”

“Heh . . . did that long ago. If I hadn’t been curious--”

“Riku, don’t. Your curiosity was natural. Your knowledge that there were other worlds might not have been. But, from personal experience, I believe that those destined to wield a Keyblade are born with innate knowledge that there are more worlds out there than just their ‘home’. So, never blame yourself for what happened, and don’t make excuses for that . . . shadow inside of you.”

“Mickey,” he closed his eyes and leaned his head back onto the wall. “Forgive me, but the guilt will never leave me. It’s like that one ‘Scars’ [2] song we heard a few worlds back; it’s there, and I can’t change it. But I can learn from it and become stronger.” He let a faint smile turn his lips. “I’m not about to give up. I’m not going to let what he did break me or hold me back. I’m going to take all these emotions, everything he made me feel, and wind them into an even stronger weapon than the tempered darkness inside me. And . . . I will destroy him. I will remove him form the cosmos, from creation itself.”

The King felt a maelstrom of emotions. The easiest to pick out were pride, apprehension, and anger. He was so proud that Riku wasn’t drawing back into himself, as he’d heard of happening with other rape victims. Mickey was still worried about how his friend would fair in the future, and how he would be able to help him. More importantly would Ans--the shadow be weaker or stronger form what he’d done? Had he actually risked making himself vulnerable? And then there was the gnawing anger that could only be directed at the living blackness that he so desperately wanted to part his friend from.

“Fine then, Riku, whatever you want. Just remember, I’ll be here to help. You’re not alone.”

The teen shifted as a thought struck him. “Have . . . you ever had to deal with a person being . . . violated like this before? Talking to them and stuff. Because . . . it’s like you’ve had this talk before. Like you knew just what I was worried about . . .”

The sovereign’s smile sagged again, not that the silvery boy could see this. “I’ve been lucky. None of my . . . direct subjects have ever know such vileness. I say direct because my world is affectionately called ‘Disney World’ among those who know that there are multiple worlds. The worlds closest to my world are, in turn, known as the ‘Disney Land’ or lands.” At this, Mickey paused a moment to order his thoughts.

“We never practiced colonizing other worlds. It’s just that Disney Castle--my home world--is special. From there, I can watch over other worlds, and long ago there was trading between my world and the neighboring worlds. That’s the real reason Gummi Ships were invented: trade and exploration. Well, because the neighboring worlds are so close, they fall under my kingdom’s protection when certain interplanetary disputes come up. Or, I should say, used to come up. Hence the nicknames.”

The King shifted, getting comfortable on the seat. “However, just because nothing ever happened in the ‘Disney Kingdom’ doesn’t mean nothing happened elsewhere. And because of my position’s need to travel, I ran afoul of people who had undergone similar ordeals. I was able to see how the counselors--some professionals, some no more than dear friends and family--helped the victims deal with everything. I’ll admit, I’ve heard of relatively few cases where the attack was a mental one, but they're frequent on worlds where creatures with psychic abilities, like Vampires, are more common.”

“So,” Riku turned the information over in his head, “there is precedence.”

“Sadly.”

“Did they . . . do the victims ever . . . feel . . .” What could he say, ‘clean again’? That was too much to hope for. What about ‘whole’ or even, “Better?”

Mickey was silent for a long, long time. The answers he had kept running around his head, chasing each other. He didn’t want to scare his friend, but lying to him wouldn’t help either. And Riku was too smart for him to simply sugarcoat the truth. Even if he wasn’t, the shadow was, and would have used the sweetened version to torment the teen all the more.

“It all depends on how strong their heart is. Talking can help sort out the nightmares, but unless they have a will to fight, to keep living life, then no. I’ve seen people repress the memories with moderate success, but in the end, they always come back to haunt them--mostly as either night-terrors or waking nightmares. Facing it is hard, Riku, I won’t lie to you about that. This is something that you just have to take one day at a time.”

“Like the guilt from before . . .” Out of one suffering, into another.

He should have burned the door in the Secret Place the moment he saw it.

Wait, Wakka and Tidus had tried that. Okay, he should have blown it up with some of Selphie’s concoctions. [3]

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I have to be.” He stopped himself before he mechanically finished the mantra his parents had driven into his psyche.

A light chuckle. “You’re a kid. You shouldn’t have to be anything more.” There was slight regret in his voice that two--technically three--so young had been entrusted with such a heavy burden. Life would be wondrous for them, but it would not be kind.

Riku shifted in the water again. He wanted to ask Mickey to leave, so that he could finish, but he was also desperate to ask more questions. And he was grateful for the talk; it had already made him feel worlds calmer.

“Mickey . . .” this was a very delicate topic, one that made him blush even as he fought to word it correctly, “has there ever been a case where the victim . . . where they . . . felt like . . . something had . . . no, that’s not . . .”

“Take your time. I’ll wait. Just think about how whatever makes you feel, if it is a feeling you’re asking about.”

The boy nodded. “It is. It’s like . . . a switch got flipped on inside me.” He was lowering his voice as he spoke. “I mean, I never even considered exploring myself, let alone being intimate with others. But now . . . I . . . want . . . to.” He closed his eyes in defeat.

The King blinked slowly, taking the time to process the question. ‘Well,’ the mouse reasoned to himself, ‘in for a penny, in for a pound.’ He would continue to be honest.

“You don’t want to hurt whoever you’d be with, right?”

“No! I’d never hurt them!” Riku’s face flushed at the thought.

Them? So he already had someone, well someones, in mind. But he’d ask about that later. “Good, that’s very good. It, sadly, is common among the younger victims to end up as abusers themselves. They don’t seek love, they just want to reenact what was done to them, with escalating violence. They want revenge on the ones who did what they did to them, but since they usually can’t fight against the attackers, they find . . . scapegoats. On the flip side, the victims sometimes become very . . . active in that area and end up with multiple partners in a short amount of time. In those cases, the victim just feels worthless and that they can only be validated through . . . intimate interaction.”

“So, I could either become a monster or a tramp. Fun.” He really needed to heat the water back up.

Mickey set his features in a scowl. “No, Riku, that won’t happen to you. I’m here to support you, remember? And you can confront your attacker.” He softened his face into a smile. “You’re getting help early, and that makes a big difference. Just, never think you’re alone in this, alright? That’s a tactic they use to control their victims.”

“Al-alright. I won’t. But, that reminds me. You have accesses to a bunch of different magics, right? Lightning, fire, healing, time, and stuff, right?”

“Yep! My master, Yen-Sid, taught me everything there is to know about magick.”

“Did he teach you any for sleep?”

The King’s eyebrow gently arched. “A few. Why do you ask?”

Riku took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled. “I need to fight him again. But after what he did, I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep so easily. If I can’t ‘conk-out’ by around eleven tonight, will you put me under?”

Mickey hesitated a moment. Sending the child back into the fray was fine, but under a sleeping spell? The child would be unable to awaken until it had run its course.

“Okie. But, I’ll only use my weakest spell. That way, if things go wrong, you shouldn’t have any extra trouble waking up.”

‘But . . . I couldn’t wake up last time.’ He said nothing, lest he damped the King’s spirits.

“Thank you . . . I . . . really needed to hear this. Um . . . not to be rude, but . . . I kinda-sorta want to finish up with washing . . .”

A light chuckle. “I understand. Do you want me to bring in your clothes for you? I used a few cleaning spells on them so that they’re fresh.”

“Thanks, yeah.” From behind the curtain, Mickey could hear the other smirk. “You know, someday, you’ll have to teach me those spells.”

“Ah,” the mouse hopped down from his seat, “I think you’d do better if you learned from my teacher. Or Merlin. They’re the two best teachers of magick in the known worlds.”

“If they’ll have me as a student, I’ll have them as a teacher.”

With that, the two smiled. Even though they couldn’t see the other’s reaction, they both knew. And with quiet steps, the sovereign exited.

* * * * * *

Walking out from the bathroom, Riku quickly glanced about for his friend.

“Did washing up make you feel a little better?” Mickey was sitting near the headboard of his bed.

“A little.” He flipped some of his damp sliver tresses behind his ear. “But really, the talk helped more.” Riku eyed his bed with suspicion. “I don’t think I want to stay in today.”

“Are you sure?” The King tilted his head to the side. “You haven’t exactly had the best past few months.”

A stern nod came from the teen. “Positive. I have way too much energy, and outside of ‘wrestling’, me and TV aren’t on good terms.” Stupid pron-what-cha-ma-cal-it. “’Sides, I’ve always been partial to running around and being active then sitting and . . . not thinking.”

“Okie then, when you finish drying your hair, we’ll go exploring.”

“Drying? . . .” An adorably confused look passed onto his face.

Mickey blinked. Then the realization hit him. He grinned with a small laugh. “What world are you from? What’s it like?”

“Destiny Islands? Well . . . The main island is alot like the city here, but smaller and with more trees. But that’s sort of a given since, well, the islands are all jungles and beaches. Nothing but ocean on all sides of home, as far as the eye can see. It’s just . . . normal.”

The King nodded. “Thought so. You’re used to a tropical climate. Well, Riku, this world has a more temperate one, meaning that it’s not as warm as you’re used to outside. And that means you’ll have to dry your hair out, unless you want to catch a cold. Come on,” he hopped off the bed, “I’ll help you look for a hairdryer. Some hotels include them with the bath. Very convenient, but if there isn’t one in there you can just use a towel.”

Riku obediently followed the other into the white room. After about five minutes of searching, they were able to ascertain where the staff had hidden the drying device. Thus, ten minutes later found the teen once again in the main room, glancing in on his companion.

“All ready?” Mickey called.

“All ready,” the silvery teen answered, with only marginal static cling affronting his hair.

The King gave a faint grin. His friend really looked like the child he was. He’d gotten used to the ‘old soul’ aura that the teen exuded. Shaking his head, he remembered that there was something said child had mentioned in the bath, something he wanted to question before he forgot.

“Riku, before we head out, I just wanted to check one thing. It’s about something you said earlier, and it’s been nagging me.”

“What’s that?” The teen realized that he should probably grab his keycard and headed back into the main room.

“In the bath, I asked you if you thought of hurting anyone you would be intimate with. You said you would never hurt ‘them’. Does that mean that you have a few special someones in your heart? Or did you mean anyone in general?” Mickey had added the second question to soften the blow of the first, give Riku an easy out if he didn‘t want to answer too directly. He didn’t expect the boy to blush at the first, and then flush and become flustered at the latter.

“I--No--Wha--Gah! I could never--not with someone--I only want to be with Kairi! Sort . . . of . . .” He was biting his bottom lip. Did he really love Sora? Yes, his friend’s physical nature filled a need, but was it really right to actually want to be with more than one person at a time?

“Ah, dilemmas of the heart. So, if you don’t mind me asking, who’s the other lucky girl?”

Riku gave the sovereign an odd look. “Who said they were a girl?”

Mickey’s overly expressive eyes opened so wide that his eyebrows merged with his hairline. “They aren’t?” He’d never thought the teen was bisexual. However, this might have only just come to Riku’s attention as well, given the gender of his abuser.

“Yeah, I could never be with someone I didn’t know.” At this, the silver one put a hand to his breast. “And there are only two people who I hold dearest in my heart, who I can really call my best friends. Sora and Kairi. Everyone else back home is great, but . . .” The teen’s hand dropped down, and a slightly melancholy look washed over his face. “They’re my world. When Ansem was . . . when he did what he did, I had to think of someone, anyone but him. If I wasn’t thinking of them, I would have gone insane. I would have broken and given in to him.”

Realizing what he’d partially said, the teen immediately brought his hands up defensively. “Not that you aren’t great either, Mickey. It’s just that as wonderful a friend as you are, I think of you more like . . . like the father I always wanted.” Then he heaved a sigh, hoping that he’d just cleared things up.

The King shook his head. He’d cleared up one issue only to find another. Well that was something they could talk about another day. However, he was now curious about the teen’s world. “So you love both Sora and Kairi. And you have no problems being in love with another male?”

The pale one looked confused again. “Why would there be?”

At this, Mickey genuinely smiled. ‘So they don’t preach hate.’ With a subdued laugh, the King answered, “There are many harsh worlds out there, Riku, and some of them are run by well-meaning, but misguided people. Some of these worlds frown on couples of the same gender, silly as that is.”

The teen blanched. “That’s not silly, that sounds downright stupid!” How the hell could you control love?

The mouse nodded to that. “At Disney, we’ve come to understand that true love has no ‘orientation’. It’s partially why we get so many requests to have weddings done at the Castle. Well that and any marriage performed at the castle is binding on almost any of the known worlds.” At this, Mickey grew thoughtful as he started to walk towards the door, Riku following close behind him. “You know, we’ve had some pretty outrageous requests.” As he took up the handle, he glanced back over his shoulder with a wide grin. “But I think we could easily schedule a wedding for two grooms and one bride.”

The child’s face was bright enough to light the room and red enough to make an apple green with envy.

“Ssssoo,” he barely managed to get out, “I’m~m n-not perverted for wanting to spend my life with two other people? At once?”

Mickey shrugged. “That’s love for you. Come on, we’re wasting daylight now.” And he opened the door leading out into the hallway of their floor.

‘Great,’ Riku sighed to himself. ‘Now I just need a jumbo sized Paopu.’

* * * * * *

“Well, this place looks interesting.” Mickey cocked his head at the semi-large crowd and the advertisements.

Apparently, it was a ‘faire’ instead of a ‘fair’, and if you entered in costume, you would get a discount on your ticket. If it was elaborate enough, you could enter for free, though a string of some sort was tied onto one of your wrists.

Riku nodded in agreement, scanning around the different costumes. There was a multitude of variety, some dressed as animals, others as anthropomorphic animals dressed as humans from one past era or another--though the majority like this had a Medieval feel. There were some dressed as pirates, a few ninjas, some Vikings, dark skinned assassins covered in black robes with black cloth wound round their heads, fairies, witches, vampires, monks, knights, orcs, dwarves, fighters, mages--he could keep going on and on. It was like all time eras and several worlds were mixed up in this ‘faire’. And most who dressed up had a weapon to complete the outfit.

“What do you think, Riku, should we go in?”

The teen thought about it, as the place was highly tempting. But it also looked expensive, even if they got around paying for tickets. But he did have an idea on that point, so depending on Mickey’s answer they’d go in or move on.

“We can always come back to this world, right? If we have to leave it for a little bit, that is.” He kept his voice low so that their conversation would be swallowed by the din rather than overheard.

“Yep, now that I know where to go, I can get us back here.” [4]

“Good. So if we need to go off world, we can get back. Now, are there any worlds nearby that have Heartless on them?”

Making sure no one saw him, the King summoned his Keyblade. He screwed his face up in concentration as he mentally reached out with the blade to feel how the nearby worlds were doing. After a few moments, he sighed, coming back to reality. He had to remind himself that this was supposed to be a relaxing week, so that meant no saving worlds unless they were in critical states.

“There are at least two around here with the beginnings of an invasion. A halfhearted one at that, so they should be okay for the next three or so days.” But he could tell that he wasn’t the only one who felt guilty about not taking action now. However, in their defense, if they didn’t take a break now and then, they’d wear themselves out or go insane.

“Cool, easy munny.” The King looked at him incredulously, albeit with a slightly amused glint in his eyes. “Alright,” the teen amended, “easy for us.” And he flashed his trademark smirk.

Mickey shook his head with a laugh. “So are we going in costume or not?”

Riku knew that he would have to face this issue sooner or later. Would the armor work as it was supposed to or . . .

“Let’s find a safe and quiet place to change.” With that, they went searching.

Twenty minutes later found Riku in his armor--which was properly working--Soul Eater in hand, with Mickey walking beside him in the robe DiZ had given him, carrying his Keyblade. From there, they waded into the crush of bodies, only to be told that since they were in full costume, to head over to the front gates where a table had been set up just inside the walk area of the castle--one had to go through the short walk to enter into the Faire grounds proper.

They found that the employees were all in full costume, and that several sat or stood by the table inspecting visitors who were also in full costume. As they approached, a ‘huntsman’ stood up to greet them, and in Riku’s case, complimented him on the detail of his costume.

“It may not be from any era or culture, but my, if this isn’t worth a full access string, I don’t know what is! Mind, you will have to peace bond your sword.”

Mickey had to convince the man that he in fact suffered from dwarfism, which was why even though he was smaller, he was the adult. Apparently, this world knew about the ‘legends’ of both King Mickey Mouse and the Keyblades.

“But why the robe?” The man asked as he tied a length of string to Mickey’s right arm.

The King grinned. “You know the stories where the King has to go undercover so no one knows he’s on the world, right?”

“Then why not use a disguise from the stories?”

“Now, that wouldn’t be much of a disguise if everyone knew it was ‘me’, now would it?”

“Guess you’re right. Oh, before you go in, do either of you two suffer from acute stage fright? Or any kind of anxiety or panic attacks from being in either crowds or unfamiliar situations? Or asthma?”

The pair looked at each other, and Riku answered, “No. Why?”

“Well, these strings aren’t just free admittance; they’re full access passes. Meaning everything--except some shops--are free to you guys for the day. That said, you have to pay in some other way, namely being part of a rather large costume contest. You can see how both your strings are yellow, right? Well we get so many people in costume now that we had to set up five major stages and ten minor stages around the park to handle all the contestants. You don’t have to do much other than show yourself off to the crowd at least once. If you’re one of the top five at your--minor--stage, you move onto the final stage, which is back here. If you’re one of the top ten, they’ll tell you where to go for your trophies. The contest stages are the only places in the park were you can unbind your weapons, and only if you’re given permission by the Master of Ceremonies.”

“Oh . . . that makes sense.” Riku considered turning on his heel and heading back out. If it had been any other day in his life, this would have been a no-brainer as he would have had no qualms about being in the spotlight. But after last night, he wanted no more eyes on him than absolutely necessary. Mickey, however, looked to be fine with parading around a stage, so long as the teen was within shouting distance--parental instincts and all that.

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t happen until late in the day--around five-ish if they can find everyone quick. Mostly the thing doesn’t get really going until six, so you’ll have plenty of time to run for your life if you change your mind. All we ask is that you come back and return the string--we count out how many we pass out each day so we know how many people we have participating. Now then,” he stepped back with a large smile, “welcome to the Galdrial Faire!”

* * * * * *

“You do realize how stupid this is, right?”, he shot the one walking beside him an incredulous glare.

“And dangerous, but yeah. Not like it’s our fault Mansex picked a locked world,” the taller answered flippantly, not paying his anger any mind.

His blond eyebrow twitched. “If you have a death wish, don’t drag me into it.” He looked over to see his companion give him that feral ‘not-quite-sane’ grin that showed his amusement. Dear gods, he had to stop looking at him when he did that.

“Aw, Roxy. I thought you liked a good challenge now and then!” Those jungle green eyes were laughing again, and he knew there would be no reasoning with him. But damn it if he wouldn’t at least try.

“Crazy pyro,” the boy whispered, then in a louder voice said, “yeah, challenges, not death sentences from ‘The Superior’--”

“He has a name, Rox.” The redhead waggled his finger at him.

“But it’s not Mansex.” The small teen huffed.

“Could be, if he got bored enough.” The elder looked thoughtful.

“Like you, Ax?” A sly grin played over his peachy lips.

“Pffh, I don’t get bored. I get creative!” And ‘Ax’ snapped his fingers to accentuate the point.

“And that’s why Xemnas is making us go world hopping to far away places: to get them devoured by Heartless--Heartless we summon and then defeat to release their hearts to add to the moon-thingy so he can have himself a world of his own desires fulfilled.”

The taller redhead went back to being thoughtful for a moment. “I thought it was supposed to be for all of us. That and we were here because you wouldn’t take me up on my offer to help me experiment with the stove again.”

‘Rox’ could feel the vein in his temple throb. “Yeah, so you grabbed Dem, and what happened? What?! The evil thing tried to kill me! You’d think it would go after you two for pissing it off, but noooooo. It waited for the next hapless person who walked by to make himself some pizza to come to unholy-life and try baking me! Xemnas should be glad I used my keys on it or it would have burnt down the whole castle.” The last line was mumbled under the young blond’s breath.

“MMmm, golden browned Roxas stuffed with Axel.” Axel was almost drooling as he looked at him with ‘wolfish intent’.

Roxas sighed, shivering under the power of the elder’s gaze. His friend had missed the point and was making one of his odd jokes that he didn’t get. Again. There were times he wished he knew what the other meant. Then he would remember how loopy Demyx had gotten after the whole deal with Castle Oblivion and would realize that it might be better if he didn’t know.

But he still wondered why those green eyes affected him so. They were so different, and yet exactly like the ones in his dreams . . .

“Solaris to Roxas; come in Roxas!” Axel was waving his hand before his eyes.

A slow blink of sky-blue eyes. “Don’t get your chakrams in a bunch, I’m here. Not sure why, but I am.” And he crossed his hands behind his un-hooded head, remembering at the last minute that his two Keyblades were tied onto his back in an ‘x’.

Axel placed a hand on each hip, both of which now sported an aforementioned chakram that was slung in place with strong packing twine provided by the nice people at the front table. “Xemy said to come to this world, and we did. We may not be able to do the whole mission, but we can take some time to ourselves. Besides, think of it this way, the longer we stay here, the more likely we’ll be to either unlock this world or find the guy who did lock it. Just think, another guy or gal with a key to talk to--didn’t you want something like that?”

There was a pained pitch to the word ‘want’, and Roxas almost believed that it was something other than the normal ache Nobodies suffered from lacking a heart. But then, Roxas almost believed Demyx when he told him that Xemnas was full of so much crap--Axel’s word choice--when it came to what the newer Nobodies did and didn’t possess.

“Yeah, that might be nice.” But he still pouted. “So why are we at this carnival thing?”

Axel sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “Not a carnival, Rox, a ‘faire’. These things are great! And we can keep our robes on without drawing a crowd. Hell, we’re pretty damn tame compared to most the people ‘round here.” He lifted his right wrist to show off his sunny hued string. “We only got these ‘cause of our weapons.”

The little Nobody shook his head. “Still doesn’t tell me ‘why’, Ax.”

The elder shrugged. “Why else? To have fun on Mansex’ ‘dime’!”

Roxas sweat-dropped. “He’s gonna kill us when we get back. Or worse, run fifty-bazillion tests on me again to figure out how my keys work, why I have two, and if my eyes really are blue . . .”

Axel had probably made a comment on that, he could sort of tell that he was making some kind of sound. But whatever it was, he wasn’t paying attention. All he knew was that he was looking profile at one of the two sets of eyes from his best dreams--and the ones that ‘broke his heart’ in his worse nightmares. Those eyes belonged to a boy with hair like starlight, even though it picked up the slightest tinting from his surroundings. He looked almost ethereal, the only thing solid about him the black and blue of the armor he wore. Roxas felt like something was unlocking inside him or maybe breaking open as he stared at the youth, trying to fathom who he was and what was going on in his own blond head.

Apparently, fate was in a bitchy mood because the kid stopped and looked straight at him.

* * * * * *

Riku had been sensing, smelling, weird things since he’d stepped into the Faire grounds proper, like something was waiting for him in the food stand area, and he’d been following the pull of his instincts to see what it was. Someone from Castle Oblivion was here. More than that, he could swear that he smelled Sora--no, not Sora per se, but Sora’s . . . shadow? Yet, when he thought he’d at last found him, all he saw was a blond in the same kind of robe that Mickey was wearing.

The robe was probably common enough on this world, but the things strapped to his back weren’t. Maybe he could have built them, maybe he could have bought them, but the odds of him have those two--those exact two were slim to ‘no way in hell!’ If he was seeing them right, that was. They were half hidden behind his back, so it might not have been ‘Oath Keeper’ over his left or ‘Oblivion’ over his right shoulder. Yeah, the odds were higher that the blond just picked toys that looked a little like those two blades than to actually have the Keyblades.

The kid started to walk closer to him, a dazed look in his eyes. As he moved, his scent shifted on the wind, and Riku caught something that truly frightened him. He was looking into a face so achingly familiar and yet completely alien to him. The eyes cried out to him for even the barest recognition, but he sadly could not grant them that. It was like he was looking at someone who could have been Sora if fate had handed him a different card--just one different card. And yet, on the tip of his tongue he could taste a familiar scent that made him shakily mouth one word in disbelief.

“Nobody . . .” He didn’t see the look of recognition that pasted over the face of the blond’s companion before the boy was pulled away into the crowd.

“Riku, I found a good place for breakfast!” The King took hold of his hand and tugged him just slightly forward. The teen resisted only the tiniest moment before following. It would do him no good to go looking if the kid really was one of those ‘Nobody’ guys, they seemed able to transport themselves at will, so he was probably already far away from here.

* * * * * *

“A-axel? Why’d you just--What the hell, man!? Let go! I gotta go see if he’s still--”

“He killed Lexaeus. Technically he killed Zexion too, but that’s a shit-ton more complicated then I wanna get into now,” the redhead retorted grimly, not letting go of his slender wrist.

“Zexion,” realization hit him, “Wait, but Demyx--”

“Yeah, Demy still isn’t over that.” Axel shook his head with a sigh.

Roxas was numb, but Nobodies were always numb. Right? But he knew he felt numb rather than just was numb. “But why? Why would he kill them?”

The redhead frowned. “Long or short version? Ah, shit, never-mind, no choice. Short version: he got his ass pulled into ‘Castle O’, and then went ape-shit because Zexy had a grand ass plan to use him to keep Marly from shit-kicking the Organization into lap dancing for him.”

“Damn it, Ax, speak English or Portuguese! Anything but ‘Ax-in-ese’!”

“But I just,” he silently cursed the kid’s innocence; even if he remembered his other life, he probably still wouldn’t know what he meant. “Ugh. Marluxia wanted to take over the Organization. That’s why he wanted to head the branch watching the upper levels of Oblivion. Mansex posted me there as insurance that things didn’t go his way. Zexy had about the same idea, but went about it bass-ackwards, drew the femy-guy you just saw into the mix, and had his own ass handed to him by one of Vexie’s jiffy-pop-replicas of sweet-silver back there. Silver did off Lexaeus on his own . . . -ish.”

Roxas arched a brow. “How the hell did your dumb ass get out alive?” The smart ones died and the town--er, castle, idiot lived?

“Simple,” he smirked, “I didn’t fight the darkling and played possum for his friend--the one Marly was busily having Nami brain fuck sideways into being his pet. Basically, silver isn’t bad news, but he probably wouldn’t like us just on account of being fellow Nobodies--he has Zexy’s sense of smell from my understanding of things.”

“He’ll attack us ‘cause we’re Nobodies?” That idea . . . hurt.

“More like, ‘Hey, you’re friends of people who tried to brainwash me into doing shit I didn’t want to do. Die.’ True, I could be wrong, and he might consider the fact that maybe we don’t want to mind haxsors him, but I’d rather you not be there when, or if, I find out.” There was a certain glint in the elder Nobody’s eyes as he continued to pull his young friend away from the spot they’d been in.

At the time, it made no sense to Roxas why Axel had that look, or what it even meant. But, sometime in the future, when he looked back over his memories, he would remember this moment, and begin to understand.

“So we’re leaving then, this faire-ground, right? And going onto the next world in our mission?” He was hopeful.

“Fat chance.” Well, there went the hope. “It just means we avoid him like the plague, and if I tell you to run from him, you don’t question me. Get that memorized.”

“Yeah Ax,” he whispered, “got it.” But a part of him wondered if the boy would be at the same stage as him and Axel, and if not, would he be a finalist at the castle gates?

* * * * * *

Roxas got his answer later that evening. They didn’t have a watch, but the PA system had started yelling for the contestants to get to their stages at five-thirty. So they’d walked over to where the posted maps and arrows said where the yellow stage was--though the last leg of their journey saw them accompanied by one of the staffers who was herding other contestants to their proper stages.

When they arrived, silver was already there with, gods help them both, King Mickey Mouse. Oh man, they were probably dead. Maybe if they ran now they would--

“Just ignore them, Rox. The kid and King won’t want to make a scene, and they won’t come near us unless we provoke them.” The redhead had stepped slightly in front of him as he spoke, taking his hand as he pulled him over to the opposite side of the stage. Roxas obeyed but couldn’t take his eyes off the other teen. A few moments later and he saw that he wasn’t the only one with a staring problem. The blond shivered from the eye contact. He wanted to go talk to him, but he also wasn’t a big fan of dying.

Fate, however, had it in for him as the staffers decided to put the four of them together in the lineup on account of the King’s robes. Something about keeping groups together for presentation purposes. All totaled, there were about thirty odd people at this stage (if one counted Nobodies as people). And even though the blond didn’t have a heart to speak of, he knew that it was hammering away in his throat.

“You,” the voice was low, cool--not icy, just not very warm. “You were at Oblivion.” Roxas flicked his eyes between the teen and Axel since the comment had not been directed at him. This was somewhat bothersome as Axel was to his right, the King to his left, and the teen was left of the King.

“Yeah,” Axel breathed, “what of it?” His fists were clenched and ready to grab his chakrams at the first hint of trouble.

“Your scent was on my copy, and my copy took out the guy who pretended to be Sora. I could smell that my shadow had absorbed him, but why wouldn’t he have absorbed you, too?” He turned lightly, eyes piercing his taller friend. “You helped me, didn’t you? You helped my copy take out that pretender. And the ice guy, the one who said he worked with a ‘different Ansem’, he made my copy. And I scented you taking him out yourself.”

Roxas’ eyes widened, and they continued to do so as Axel said nothing. The blond looked over to his friend, pleading with his eyes that it wasn’t true. But the redhead remained silent.

Silver grinned. “Thank yo--”

“Axel? Is it true? Did you help kill Zexion?! Did you kill Vexen, too?” His voice was getting higher.

The pyro looked off into the crowd. “Vex,” he sighed, “I had to convince Marly and Larxene that I was a traitor, too. I had to make them think I was loyal to them and not the Organization. Xem was willing to let all of us go--everyone in the castle--to stop any rebellion against him. But yeah. I led the replica to Zexy, told him he could become his own person if he had power the real one didn’t.”

“Why?!” Roxas hissed through his teeth. “You knew that Demyx and him--”

“Yeah, I know that’s still hurting Dem, and I . . . It was a bad situation Roxas, really bad. I’ll explain everything later.”

“What? Is that everyone’s catchword with me? ‘Later’?! I ask anyone about anything at HQ, and it’s always, ‘We’ll tell ya after we get back, Rox’, or ‘Maybe when you’re a little older squirt’ or my personal favorite, ‘That information is both time sensitive and classified.’ There were only thirteen of us--fourteen if you count Naminé. So why in blue-blazes was anything classified?!” He was shaking and bristling and wanted to undo the twine so he could beat Axel upside the head with his keys--kind of like the day after they met.

“Shit, Roxas, calm down!” Axel whispered back. True, the staff was still getting people onto the stage, and they were talking low, but this was starting to draw everyone’s attention. “Fine, I’ll explain things now, as best I can without confusing you or signing over my ass to the Superior. Just trust me that I’ll tell you everything, even if I don’t do it all right now.” Roxas had fully turned on him, and he waited for the blonde to rip the blades off of his back and start knocking him over the head.

“They’re the same . . .” Silver said in awe. Roxas turned back to him, quirking a brow in curiosity. “They’re almost exactly the same color, but it’s really them, Oblivion and Oath Keeper . . .” He tried to reach out to grasp the darker blade.

“Uh,” Roxas shifted his back away. “You know these?”

“Yeah, my friend Sora uses them, among others. You could say they represent us, his best friends.” Behind the blond, the redhead was silently, frantically, trying to get Riku to stop talking about this, to no avail.

“S . . . ora? Friends? Wha . . . Could you explain? And who are you?” His head was hurting, a dull ache that echoed in his temples.

“I’m Riku, and Oblivion would represent me since it’s dark, but not pure black. The other one represents our best girlfriend Kairi, if you look at the charm--the key-chain, you’ll see that it’s made out of shells. Kairi gave that charm to Sora, but you'd have to ask him the details himself. Kairi is kind of like our guiding light; I know that she’s what kept Sora going when he had to fight . . . me. And I know she’s the one who helped me--well, Naminé helped by pretending to be her. But it’s odd, that girl feels like she’s Kairi, but she’s not.” And here Riku looked him in the eyes. “Just like you feel like Sora, but you’re not.”

“But . . .” It was like thinking through a fog. “It’s not shells.” He reached over to display Oath Keeper’s charm. “It’s . . . a pao . . . a pao . . . a pao-pu.” He at last recalled. “Naminé gave it to me . . . I promised her . . . I’d stay.” His eyes were scanning back and forth, searching for the lost words and shards of memories. “Keep her safe? Yeah, I’m going to . . . I was protecting . . . it’s for luck . . . But!” He closed his eyes, gripping his temples in pain. “The crown . . . I . . . h-hate that it’s black, no . . . I don’t like why it’s black, b-ut it’s sup-posed to be Axel. Axel’s so stuck-up and full of himself, but he’s my best friend. W-we fight so much . . . we look out for each other . . . I’m learning from him . . . how to be . . . like . . . him . . .”

Roxas collapsed. Axel swore loudly, picked him up bridal style, and carried him out of sight. That was the last thing the blond registered before things went decidedly black.

* * * * * *

“Mickey, Mickey should we go after . . .” Riku looked down to see that the King’s face was scrunched up in concentration, hands tightly gripping the Keyblade.

“Can’t . . . casting a calming aura. . . . If I stop now, people will . . . notice something’s wrong.”

“So you’ve been holding back everyone from interfering in the talk?”

“Yes. . . . I didn’t want things . . . to get out of hand.” His grip was starting to relax slightly.

“Think we can slip away, too?” Riku cast his glance about hopefully, but he was sure the pair were gone.

“Not impossible, but not likely either. We’ll at least have to sit through the audition.” Mickey began to open his eyes.

“Will they even remember those guys were here?” The teen was thinking of making a quick escape.

“Yes. They were up here long enough. But everyone will just accept that they had to go.” The King looked over to his young friend, eyes questioning his thoughts.

“Then we could say that we know the kid, and that we want to go check up on him. They’ll understand and let us off the hook.” He gave the sovereign a lopsided grin. He really wanted to know what was up with those Nobody guys, especially Roxas.

Mickey winked. “Sure thing. I kinda want to know more about the new Keybearer myself. We could use as much help against the Heartless as we can get.”

Thus decided, when the staffers came over to them, they made the appropriate apologies for their ‘friends’. Riku said that Roxas had probably eaten something that set off his allergies and that they wanted to go check on him. It was a flat out lie, but a convincing performance from the pair helped its credibility.

Soon after returning their strings, they were off and running, Riku scenting out the way they went.

However, all the running led to was a thick stand of trees and an even thicker scent of darkness.
------------------
[1] Look up the real definition of Hate. It’s a world stronger than what common use makes it out to be. So if Mickey hates someone, you know you done bad, because hate doesn’t exist in the Disney ‘verse. All they got is strong dislike, and loathing.

[2] ‘Scars’ = Papa Roach’s, not mine. It just happened to be on as background noise when I was writing that bit . . . and it so fits Riku . . .

[3] I don’t remember if everyone could see the door or not. Help?

[4] 1st off, Riku doesn't have his new Keyblade yet--and since it’s never explained how he got it, I’m gonna take artistic license in a later chapter with that. XD 2nd-ly, he’s not going to be using dark portals just yet. I’m not sure if I want him using them before he gets stuck in ‘Ansem’ form or not. Only the organic evolution of the plot will tell me . . . So for now, Mickey has to hop them between worlds.

A/N: [[Removed to comply with new AFF guidelines. Please see the MM.org version for full A/Ns: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/156268]]
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