Now. *rubs her hands* Shounen-ai, right? ..Well, not 'til /much/ later. And it's only one couple really.. with another one-sided thing, but really, it's much, much later. Nothing to fear for now.

However, there is one thing that bothers me... a lot. Someone who wanders the KH section takes too much for granted, especially with the connection between the FF characters and the FF games. He thinks to seem he knows everything, but here's a tip: it's been proven there's no real connection between the FF games and Cloud, Squall, etc. They all grew up in Hollow Bastion and Aerith /never/ died. Yeah, big shock, ain't it? ... I'm not gonna mention any names, but c'mon. You replay the game again and you'll see that they practically /tell/ you Kairi's from Hollow B, or where Yuffie (or was it Aerith?) says that Hollow Bastion was their home.

And if you think I'm conceited, being so bold... *giggles* Phhbt, hardly. KH is a whole new ballgame, boys and girls; anything goes and the rules are far from what they once were, because it's fresh and new and very unsevered. You may now resume your regularly shehshualed program. =)

Locke Cole stalked around his small room, restless and confused. He was at a loss at what to do, tired, and above all-- his stomach growled without remorse, a dire reminder to how empty it was. Walking away from dinner, no matter how upset he'd been, was obviously the wrong move. A glance at his clock told him that meal-time was over and he fell bonelessly onto his small bed, face down in his flat feather pillow. What a way to end..

She probably won't like me anymore, he thought. Zack's probably got her mind riddled with lies and cruel things to say about me by now. She wouldn't love me, even if I was the last man on Gaea.

Yep, truly love-sick.

He couldn't stay here anymore. Pushing himself back onto his feet, Locke grabbed his small duffle and started packing away his meager possessions from the shelves and closet; he had to leave before his conscience told him not to. I don't care what they say, I've learned my lesson. I won't seek out a living that involves hunting for a price.

With his back turned towards the door, he didn't hear it open or someone stepping in until he was addressed. "Going on a trip, Locke?"

The bag slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. The light-haired man swallowed and turned around, bowing his head as far as possible. "L-Lord Ansem, I... didn't hear you--"

"I know." The ruby-eyed man leaned against the stone-rimmed doorframe, arms folded, and looking quite bored. "You plan to run from your problems, don't you?"

Locke choked. It couldn't be possible that Ansem knew he'd come to this conclusion before Locke knew himself. And whatever was written on his face had to have given away his current disbelief, for Ansem shook his head slightly. "You've been here for nearly eight months and after countless tests of your endurance to shame, you finally broke. It wasn't hard to figure out."

"S-sir," he stuttered, cheeks flushing pink. "I've... I've learn my lesson. Honestly I have."

"And honest you are. I've decided to lift your sentence. You're free to leave Hollow Bastion."

The words 'you're free' sent instant yet subtle tear pricks into Locke's eyes and they shined with joy. No more baby-sitting demon spawn, teasing behind his back. He can go back home and be an idol to his village... but Ansem wasn't done talking.

"However, if you choose to, there's no coming back. You've served the time and now you move on. Never to look back, because it will hinder you.. and make you wonder if you left anything behind." Ansem shifted his weight, no longer supported by the wall. "..Will you leave something behind, if you walk out that gate?" Locke's face was the mask of a dunce, while his mind swarmed and trickled outwards like the tendrils of drifting mist. At the same time, he wanted to pound his poor, abused skull into the wall. Of course /he'd/ be leaving something behind! But would staying really be wise? Would it be worth it? "Um...I...." His mind worked overtime to produce an answer. "..Ssir, with all due, um, respect, I... don't know if I'll be.. l-leaving anything behind."

Ansem's facical expression barely changed, but Locke could've sworn he looked slightly cross. "I see. ..I don't liked to be kept waiting, Locke, so unless you make your choice while I'm still in this room, I'll make it for you." Blazing eyes narrowed. "And I doubt it will be the fancied one, over all."

Locke flinched; it didn't go unnoticed by the Lord of Hollow Bastion. Ansem made a hand gesture that reached out into the hallway and, to the treasure hunter's mortification, Terra stepped into view, a pink blush on her cheeks and a covered, silver tray in hand.

Ansem really knew how to bring in the heavy artillery; life wasn't fair. Ever.

Locke's face burst into flame and turned his gaze to the corner of the ceiling, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He couldn't.... He just /couldn't/ say it! Couldn't look her in the face, couldn't proclaim the feelings he harbored deep inside.

Especially with her /uncle/ in the same room.

The man wanted to cry, to burst into undecisive tears and curse whichever god dictated his life until this very point, then drop to his knees and beg for a better choice, a third, so he didn't have to choose between home...and the woman who captured his schoolboy crushings.

"I'm waiting."

And Terra stepped up to him, placing the tray aside, and took his free hand between hers. Soulful, doe eyes refused to leave him and Locke's resolve began to crumble (Why was I in the first place?).

"Locke. Please stay," she whispered. "Those things they say about you aren't true, you know. It was me you stumbled over back then, remember? That I reported you to Laguna and Vincent? ...I'm glad I did, because I never would have known how kind and selfless you were."

For all the her words offered, only the tiniest sprig of himself wanted to go back home, but when the lightest, butterfly of a kiss touched his heated cheek, Locke almost swore it was his imagination.

But it wasn't, and that one sprig was suddenly squashed into powered dust beneath a booted foot. Locke shot a hurried look at Ansem with wide, shocked eyes. "I'll stay."

And that was that.

"But Mistress," called Vivi, hurriedly trying to catch up with the long, docile strides of the woman he proudly called mentor, "surely neither are ready for such powerful devices. I implore you rethink your outlandish decision."

Edea's pace never wavered and her voice was strong. "You may be Ansem's vizier, child, but hardly do you understand the grander scheme of things."

"Mistress!"

"It is not an insult, but a reminder." She reached the entrance to her small lair of the dungeon and made to push it open. "You are 15, Vivi; still very much a child. You are nary a year younger than Laguna's son and, as you know well, he continues to reap the joys of childhood along with his beloved cousin, Yuffie."

Vivi's eyes grew dim in the dark, lost in thought. Just this afternoon, Cid was prepping him to become a 'man' and now, Edea was telling him he was still a child, a babe. ..He was very confused, suddenly. "But..but Mistress," he whispered, sounding a little lost and unsure, "I.. I don't think Rinoa or Lulu are prepared to learn the higher arts."

"You're right, partially." The door swung open with a low, creaking noise. "Come in. I'll explain."

It took a moment before the invitation sunk in and Vivi waddled inside, letting Edea close the door behind him and climbed up into his favorite highstool by the cauldron fire. Edea bolted the door once, to ensure privacy from the few who entered before knocking, and sat down across from Vivi, amber-gold eyes flickering. "Rinoa... Yes, she is not ready. She will have no use for any of the more powerful spells I can teach, for in my heart I believe she will only need the ones I had taught her now in abundance. For what, I am not sure.

"Lulu, however, is at a very prime age to teach. Without Quistis constantly around, her emotions are growing still, and can concentrate even more."

Vivi blinked, washed over in a new kind of sadness. "That is upsetting, Mistress, for humans to have to go through something so extreme as to lock their feelings away to perform incantations. ...I want to cry," he said in a peculiar tone, "but I can't seem to. I know I can. ..But I can't."

Edea gave a light, half-empty smile. "It's alright. It's not necessary to cry for others, Vivi. I feel the same way as you do, right now, but it will pass. ...It always passes."

"Kairi!"

The small, 5-year-old brunette looked up from her picture book to her doorway, watching brightly as a small, sandy-blonde boy came charging in with all smiles. Tidus scampered and jumped around, trying to find a way into the bed that came up to his nose. Kairi laughed at all the attempts and finally helped him up, Tidus appreciating it in every way. He sat on his knees beside her and began to let his mouth run. "Hi Kairi! I heard you were sick, are you okay?"

Kairi giggled and closed her book. "I'm fine, silly-billy. Babasan says I have a bug."

Tidus' stared at her, hard, like it was the most amazing thing he's ever heard. "You have a bug? Where? Did it go up your nose?"

Kairi laughed and battered the boy with her book for being gross, just as Zack appeared, his arms full of Yuffie, Selphie, and Marlene, with Wakka trailing right behind his leg. "Hey, hey!" he said, spotting the very un-princessy display. "I know he's a bit of a dirty kid, but you don't don't have to /bludgeon/ him to death."

Being that they were all 7 and under, the whole pack of them squealed in delight, just because the word 'bludgeon' sounded ridiculous in their tiny minds. Zack set the threesome on the bed beside their rat-pack brother and took a seat in a chair beside them all, babysitting them as they each talked animately about what happened at dinner: Locke, the man with strange hair, Vincent, and the ice cream that'd been dessert. Of course, you couldn't make one one thing they were trying to tell you, but it was the enthusiasm that counted.

"Oh my stars, what's going on here??"

Seven heads turned to see Babasan standing in the door, shocked of anything from all the children gathered around her dearest Lady. Before anyone could say anything-- all the kids looked too guilty to speak anyhow-- Zack smiled at the elderly woman. "I'm sorry, Grandma, I really should've been able to handle them, but toodlers are /trickly/, I'm telling you. Those three," he motioned to Marlene, Selphie, and Yuffie, "jumped me. It was an unfair fight, three against one. I couldn't win. And /this/ one," Zack pointed accusingly at Tidus, "he put a leash around my neck and /dragged/ me here, saying if I didn't, I wouldn't get my after-lunch cookies! The horror!"

He stood up and moved around to the other side of the bed to kneel before Wakka and tickle him. "And this one had my back, carrying an /ax/, saying if I didn't go with them, I'd be beheaded at dawn! Then I definitely wouldn't get my cookies. Ah, but it was this one!" He stopped his assault and seemed to pounce on Kairi, stooping her up out of bed and into the crook of his arms. "She's the ring-leader. Orchestrated the /entire/ thing from her room. Amazing, isn't it?"

While the children stiffled their gasps and laughter with grubby hands, Babasan only looked the slightest amused; the rest of her was exasperation. She had known many of the people who lived in the castle since childhood and Zack was no exception. Always telling wild tales that made no sense, just to entertain others his own age. ..His mental age, anyway. "If you're their hostage, then I don't think you should be carting around their princess too much longer."

With much thought, Zack looked down to Kairi. She was still smiling happily, but it was also weary. He took the liberty of touching his knuckles to the girl's forehead and found the new beginnings to a fever. "Well," he whispered to the girl, "I think I'll let your friends wear you out a bit, okay? I have to talk to Babasan real quick, then I'll come kiss you goodnight and take the others to bed."

"Alright," she said back and Zack returned her to the center of the small crowd, where they now continued to talk. With a gesture, Zack led Babasan out into the hallway, a look of worry and utter seriousness in his eyes. Babasan frowned. "What's wrong?"

"We had a problem this evening." And the knight went about retelling the tale, all the while Babasan growing more afraid. She'd known Seymour too. A quiet teenager, a solomn young man, it had shocked her that day those few years ago when he snapped... Just one more tragedy under the roof of Hollow Bastion.

"I'm a little concerned he may try and hurt Kairi again, so I'll be checking up on her more. Maybe even move to a temporary room across the hall."

"...Ye-- yes. Yes, of course." She gripped the front of her dress and the small necklace in a time-seen hand. "I'll make sure to tell you or your brother if I see anything strange."

"Thanks Grandma. ...You won't tell Kairi, right?"

She smiled, albeit emptily. "I can't give her a reason to worry. She's still just a child, after all."

The grin that returned was genuine. "What would we ever do without you?"

She didn't reply and Zack escorted her back into Kairi's room, where the dark-haired man made well on his promise to bid the princess goodnight and herded the rugrats to their own beds for a good night's sleep.

Squall stared hard, mouth agape, brely able to swallow the news his own father dropped onto his shoulders. Beside him, both Cloud and Aerith stiffled their chuckles. Sir Laguna had just delivered the worst news a son could ever hear...

"/I/ have to take care of Yuffie?!"

...and was giving said son an odd look of annoyance. "You practically take care of her every day. What's the problem?"

"What about Locke?! Isn't he supposed to be 'looking over us'??"

"Ansem's informed me that his sentence is over, so that leaves you in charge now."

"But--!"

Laguna's eyes narrowed. "Squall!"

Squall flinched ever so slightly at the sharp tone, not harsh but commanding. Laguna continued. "You are 16, old enough to take care of yourself /and/ others. The only reason I suggested Locke keep an eye out for the both of you was because I was convinced you were still too immature for responsibility. That hasn't changed at all, but it was a mistake ever coddling you. Right now, you couldn't take care of a pet rock, let alone Yuffie. But you're going to start tomorrow, since I refuse to let my own flesh and blood treat their life like a joke."

The boy snorted, tossing his head up with an amused smirk and an air of superiority. "Oh please, Dad. Uncle Zack acts more immature that I do. Why don't you go tell /him/ that pretty little speech; I'm sure he needs it."

"He knows when it's time to fool around and when to fulfill his duties." Laguna poked him roughly in the shoulder, causing the boy to step back and catch his balance. "But all you've seen is him acting like a child half your age and /that's/ been your favorite rolemodel; after all, I'm not the one you look up to, am I?"

Squall pursed his lips together, thinning them into near-nothing. He didn't reply, except after he turned to face away, grumbling; Laguna definitely heard the words 'Yuffie' and 'watch' in there. A general agreement and the knight bid the trio goodnight. When he was gone around the corner, Squall made a sound of disgust and threw up his arms. "Why me?"

From his left, Aerith playfully elbowed the dark-haired boy's side. "Someone's life of lounging and self-entertainment just flew out the window."

From his right, Cloud gave him one of Zack's all-knowing-cooey faces. "Just think of all the /grown-up/ things our dear Squall has to do now! Soon, he'll be dating and doing laundry and mowing the lawn!"

Squall hissed at both of them and about-faced, stalking down the rest of the corridor to his room, visibly upset over the burden his father set carelessly (in his opinion) on his shoulders and the jibes from the two brats he called friends. Needless to say, Aerith and Cloud followed him like puppies who wouldn't take a hint, whispering just loud enough for Squall to hear and giggling every time he shot them scathing glares.

The next day brought a fresh air into the mighty castle. The odd tension from last night's events had seeped away through warm beds and pleasent dreams, leaving yesterday as only a distant memory. Seymour's reappearance, despite how terrifying it'd been, was no longer real and was all but forgotten by most, except for the oldest adults...

"Hah! Die, you stupid freak!"

...and the children with active imaginations. As it now stood, Seifer remained poised in a final thrusting stance, holding his favorite imaginary blade embedded in his new imaginary opponent. ..He'd been 9 when he last saw the strange man, not old enough to be able to hold a decent memory. But Seymour's face was fresh now, and the strawberry-blonde took full advantage of it.

He was alone today, nothing he minded. In his eyes, Rinoa and Rufus sometimes acted too weird for his tastes and were dead weight in the long-run...but they were his friends. Even if they are older than me. They thought alike, agreed more often than not, and tended to generally stick together, as courtiers should. But both Rin and Rufus were beginning to grow up, something Seifer was a few years away from, and soon might ditch him for older company.

I'll just ditch them first. Find other friends. It can't be that hard, can it?

Probably. There weren't many lone people around Hollow Bastion, especially his age. To be friends, or even plain associates with anyone in the manor meant you had to befriend their current group, which went from two to six more people. And no one else really fit his bill.

There was Squall's little gang, when the latter and Yuffie weren't performing solo acts of insanity. They weren't the tightest, but they stood out well enough. Squall, the son of a knight whose family ran for generations as Hollow Bastion's protectors. Yuffie, the orphan daughter of Raine Loire's sister and adopted by her aunt's husband. Aerith, the Cetra daughter of Joseph and Ifalna Gast who took her mother's maiden name. And Cloud, the street-urchin-turned-pupil.

Kairi had all sorts of playmates from ages 4 to 8, mostly new orphans whom Ansem seemed to be awfully generous to for the last several years. A few would come in, a few would leave, sent off to foster parents by Ansem himself. They tended to group together; strength in numbers, Seifer assumed.

Heck, even Lulu had her own tiny circle, consisting of Quistis and Rikku Trepe, Rufus' older and younger half-sisters, but they were only around annually. ...Seifer's lip curled as he high-kicked the air. His stupid father is such a cheat. I wouldn't be surprised if he had other kids besides them.

No... No one stayed alone. Brought together by Hollow Bastion itself, you had to trust the ones you shared a roof with, or force to drift away in isolation.

Like Vincent Valentine.

Seifer spat. He didn't like Vincent very much, would never admit that the stories of him being Hades' hell-servant shook him up some, that the wings he got his first glimpse of last night sent cold shivers down his spine. No, he'd never admit it and would only work to fight such a thing, be that the rumors were true and Ansem's personal guard was truly a demon-beast in the guise of a man. ..He'd fight. He'd fight when.../if/ it was time to do battle with him.

He'd fight. With, or without, friends.

they were so different

He had a way to him that made even the grass part for his approach, a natural repellent meant to keep invading, curious noses out of his business. He was cool, chilling, illusive, untouchable, unbreakable, indifferent, neutral, a watcher.

So why did it all change whenever one person simply /smiled/ at him?

Sephiroth pursed his lips harder. For the first time in years, he was alone; he'd left Zack entertaining Kairi to walk around the garden atrium in the far back of the hall. And being alone only made him think 'Why?'

Zack had a special gift to him, something that exuded attractions of all kinds. He made children happy, adult troubles melt away, hearts mend, and pain subside, all with genuine feelings. Truly, the man was a god-send; it wasn't possible to hate him-- okay, maybe Locke, but no one else. ..When the young Loire brother said something, he meant it.

so different

So he teased people; he doesn't mean to hurt them. So he was stubborn; he only feels strongly about his argument. He was still just Zack, their personal Peter Pan who had a heart of gold and not an ounce of malice in his bones.

Sephiroth stopped in his tracks and folded his arms limply, looking at the ground in idle thought. His shoulderblade was itching again, but it was easily remedied with a quick rub-up against his jacket. As he did so, the silver-haired man scowled to himself. /That/ was another thing.

Confined beneath leather was an extra appendage, a mark of sorts to whatever black magic woven on the day of his birth. A single wing, black as the emptiest void and feathered as crazily as Phoenix, Goddess of Granted Wishes. But at the rate it was growing, it may not fit behind anything after a few more years, save the kind of cloak his abominal father wore.

different untolerable set in stone fly

He shook his head and started walking again, passing under an iife tree as its leaves fell daintily to the floor. When the time came, he wouldn't hide it. If it made for a constant reminder to Vincent of the crime he committed, he'd gladly show it off, just to spite the older man's sacrifice to save a child, but not the mother.

Lucrecia...

With the quietness of a wildcat, Ansem pressed open the door to his laboratory and bolted it tightly behind him. A precaution always taken, for whom would he want to accidentally stumble into his lair? No one with a mouth to blab, that was for sure.

In a corridor from the chapel, did it dwell quietly, hiding Ansem's worst secrets and greatest discoveries. He did it all for the greater good, knowing these experiments would one day save his world from a threat they knew nothing about.

Through the short anteroom, he kept his piles of unkempt notes on desks and cabinets. Scribblings, really, about his latest observations. To him, there was some sort of order to it all, but to anyone else, it was a plain nightmare. Up a set of mirrored stairs that surrounded the tier and past exposed pipes and wire bundles lazily tacted to the sides, a messed uncontrolled, but remained clean. And atop the tier, Ansem found his newest test subject.

A common boy lay motionless on the slanted table, drawn into sleep only several hours ago. His fire-orange hair, wild, long, and tied back with a single piece of cloth, was plastered to his pale skin from heavy sweat and water, from when Ansem had lain a towelette across his forehead. His breath was shallow and somewhat uneven, but the lord had come to expect it.

Ramza, he remembered, was his name. Ansem caressed the fevered cheek with a mother's touch, saddened to cause the boy harm...but it must be done. For the last two years, he'd been following the same precedures over and over again, in different types of people he'd found beyond the castle walls and even in some of the orphans. Anything to figure out how the Heartless operated...

He'd already sealed off the lower catacombs from the Hollow's residents, now that his failures-- and successes-- resided in the dark shadows of the dungeon. Now, there came the sacrifices.

Ramza wasn't one to be offered to further his studies on the Heartless. No, the child was his last cultivation; only this time, he had used a different method, which spanned over a month and a half of work. He'd learned that the Heartless used a special ability, to shove themselves into the astral spirit of a human and draw out their lifeforce, their souls, their hearts. Pure hearts, corrupted hearts, they consumed it all...

Could /he/ do such a thing?

The boy stirred, but didn't waken. Ansem gave Ramza a once-over, before strolling to the machines against the guardrail. A monitor's light was soundlessly flickering and Ansem knew /it/ was ready.

The heart inside the child's breast was a strong one; vibrant, young, courageous, kind.. but he was not without temptation to sin. Ramza had a dangerous love, that love locked away in a dark corner, far from all else. An incestuous love, for his younger brother Gau. Instead of spreading it like fire or taking it away-- only to introduce it later full-blown-- Ansem grew it.

He grew the darkness that he found, luring it out and only making it worse for Ramza. The boy figuratively suffocated on it, not used to the darkness but adapting. He fueled that fire by hating himself..

This would be the last day to see if the heart would collapse in on itself when confined to one place, under emotional pressure, being fed untruths, once Ramza awakened. To see if life can do naturally what he has done manually.

A/N: To answer RyukiData's question: I'm a tight planner, which means that every scene I write contributes to what will happen in future chapters. And those chapters will also lead /through/ the game and even beyond it. So.. I will soon be focusing a lot on the survivors, but I need the build-up and /everyone/ in the story throws in bits and pieces of that. :D So yah! I'll get to them! Just as soon as Ansem's lid flips.

*itchy hands* I need my game back.

It's practically impossible to write this story, without feeling you aren't doing justice to what Square and Disney set down in characterization, or even general characterization from past games. But the next chapter with be just that: an actual chapter and not a filler to help you step into some of the minds of the players. ...Hopefully. *really wants to get to the later chapters* *evil grin* Someone's going to die~ie.

Self-endorsement: go read Sentinal Trinity by me? Please? It's really lonely. ... *bleh, in all the fics I've ever done, this is my first real advertisement* ..... It doesn't suit me.