Disclaimer: I don't own the Kingdom Hearts franchise.

Enjoy the read.

Just like the first, the second day had been uneventful except for that little lights-out incident in the store. The family had spent the day with energy-expending, exhausting activities of arranging furnitures. It had sucked big time, because they had been sweating like crazy, but at least they had managed to have everything accomplished before dinner thanks to the combined effort of everybody.

The room that had received the most makeover had to be the father's study. Located on the second floor right above the doors leading the courtyard, it had only been an empty room that morning—the same room Sora had come across when he was in his quest for the store. It was nothing short of amazing to see the transformation that they had brought upon it.

It had been turned into a library-like room, tall bookshelves leaning against three of the four walls. They were chockablock with novels, all of them mystery or horror; at first glance it was already obvious that those books served as the father's repository of inspiration for whenever he was faced with writer's block not major enough to need him to go out and travel. Right across the door was a workstation consisting of a heavy, sturdy oak desk, a matching chair, a computer, a tablet, some stationery, a digital clock, and a desk lamp.

This workstation was where the father did the bulk of his work, just like right now.

After the dinner, the father had straightaway headed to the bathroom for a good round of shower. Emerging from there, he had gone into the study and admired how well everything had been arranged; all seemed to have assumed its place perfectly. He had been in such a good mood that he had gotten this urge to write, which was why he was typing relentlessly on his keyboard right now. The ideas just flowed out of his head and into the monitor, and it was such a wonderful feeling.

In truth, he had been like this for a few hours. The only instances in which the door had opened were that one time when he had needed to use the toilet, and also when Sora had come in to deliver his cup of coffee three hours ago. The boy was aware that the father had been in a writing spree; every time it happened, he would stay up until late at night—sometimes skipping sleep altogether—and truth be told, Sora was worried that someday this bad habit would do a number on his health.

"Again, dad? You could get sick," Sora had said.

"That's so nice of you to worry about me, but don't. I'll be alright," he had replied. "You should go and get some sleep since it's already eleven. Thanks for the coffee."

"Okay. Night, dad."

"Good night, Sora. Sweet dreams."

It was the father all alone again after Sora had left. He had gotten so lost in his writing that he didn't realise he had lost track of time; when he checked the clock on his desk, he was truly surprised to learn that it was already past two in the wee hours of morning. His heart actually wanted him to carry on because he was still on fire, but his head prevented him from doing so, bringing the image of the concerned Sora to his mind.

Ultimately, he chose to follow the head over the heart to honour his son's request and concern. He took a final sip of the now cold coffee—it was always warm for him since it had been made with love—and stretched his limbs, causing a wonderful feeling to course through his body. "Alright, I think that's enough for today. Managed to let out a real good number of pages."

The father then saved his work, turned off the computer, and prepared to head back to his room. After making sure he hadn't left anything else on, he turned off the light and exited the room. Finally, after heaven knew how many hours of physical and mental labour, he could hit the hay and call it a day, and oh, what a wonderful feeling it was to dive into slumber knowing that one had done everything to the best of his or her capability that day.

Suddenly, he heard sneezing. It was faint, weak, and sounded like a kid's, so it didn't take long for him to figure that Sora must be the one making the sounds. As he continued walking toward his room, the sneezing got worse to the point that one was almost immediately followed by another, and not long after, coughing sounds could be heard as well.

It finally got so bad the father couldn't just let it be. He wanted to check on his son, so he did. "Poor Sora. I should've been the one getting sick, not him…"

As he neared Sora's room, the fit became even worse. He cringed, feeling sad that Sora had to endure the pain. Questions began to pop up in his mind; when he came to deliver the coffee, he had been fit as a fiddle. Sora was a healthy boy who very rarely got ill, which was why him being like this was every reason to be worried.

The father knocked on Sora's door. "Are you alright, Sora?"

Strangely, after he asked the question, the sickly sounds stopped. Not only stopped, mind you, but they had completely subsided. Even after waiting for a minute, no more coughing and sneezing could be heard, which was an interesting—if not downright strange—turn of events considering how Sora had been doing so like crazy for the past few minutes.

That didn't stop the father from coming in to check on him, though. "Sora? I'm coming in," he said while gently pushing the door open.

But what he saw next, he would be having a really, really hard time believing.

There was absolutely no sign of Sora being there.

He could only stare, wide-eyed, in disbelief at the bed across which Sora's red blanket was strewn unceremoniously. That was all the available proof that the boy had been there and that he didn't just magically disappear into thin air. But the fact remained that he practically had, and it was enough to send the father into a freaked-out state.

"Sora? Sora! Where are you?" he called out frantically as he searched the room. Alas, his efforts were in vain. "Come on, this isn't the time to be playing around… answer me, Sora."

Shouting Sora's name, the father made his hurried exit from the black-and-white room. He didn't care if he would wake his wife with that loud voice of his; in fact, that would be great, for he would appreciate any additional help he could get his hand on. He started scouring the second floor from the bathroom, his study once again, the solarium, the balcony, his own bedroom, but no, Sora was nowhere to be found.

Muttering swear words he would never say in front of his wife and son, he descended the stairs to the first floor. For some reason, the kitchen was the first place that came across his mind to look for Sora, so that was where he decided to go first. He let his feet take him there, and right now, he was just a step away from the doorway to his destination…

… and it was then that he heard another kind of sound.

This time, it was a series of knocks on a door. Those sounds stopped the father from advancing forward; he turned around and scanned the foyer which was as devoid of people as it could be.

"Sora? Is that you?" he asked again.

No answer. The knocks came again, so he immediately seized the opportunity to find out what was causing them and where they had originated from. He hoped hard that they weren't coming from the outside—seriously, who would like to receive a guest at two thirty in the morning?—but to be honest, it would be even more frightening if they came from somewhere inside the house.

It turned out the knocks were periodic. Three knocks, pause, three knocks, pause… all over again. The father relied on this fact to track down the origin of the sounds, and he was finally brought to the space between the two stairwells leading up. There, the knocks were more audible, and it was already painfully obvious that they came from the direction of the store.

The store.

He rounded the corner and, in a mix of surprise and relief, found his son by the door to the store. What made him even more bewildered—borderline frightened, perhaps—though, was the fact that it was indeed Sora who had been making the sounds. He failed to respond to verbal clues from his father, and in his subconscious kept knocking periodically on the door with his fist.

The father knew he had to get Sora to sleep properly, otherwise he would be very weak, tired, and even sleepier in the morning. It wasn't until when he had fastened, albeit gently, his grasp on Sora's wrist that he stopped knocking on the door. However, the boy's body suddenly became limp, and if his father hadn't reacted quickly enough, he would probably have kissed the floor.

"Come on. Let's get you back to your room."

The father then helped Sora return to the room, piggyback style. He tucked him under the sheets so that he would feel warm and comfortable. A tangled mess of thoughts still roamed about in his head; Sora showed no signs of sickness, so who had been coughing and sneezing? He also had never sleepwalked before, so why now? And why the store, of all places? And if memory served him right, hadn't Sora mentioned that he wasn't all that comfortable being near that place?

It was too much for him to take in, so he decided to just let it slide for the night and save the questions for tomorrow. Right now Sora was in no condition to answer anyway, and he wouldn't have the heart to wake him up just to interrogate him about something he possibly wouldn't be able to recall having done. With that in mind, he left the bedroom after planting a light kiss on his forehead.

"Sleep tight and good night, Sora."

A breeze picked up and someone sneezed.

Sora subconsciously drew his blanket over his head, covering his entire body. He felt a heavenly sensation of warmth course through his veins, washing the offending cold away from his being. Snuggling and holding tight onto his bolster, he fell deep down into the realm of sleep in no time as sheer comfort engulfed him in its warm embrace.

Yet again, Sora had failed to notice that something wasn't quite right, this time due to being in slumber.

His door and windows had all been shut tight, so there was no rational way a breeze could have made its way into the room. He also didn't register that the sneeze hadn't come from him.

Perhaps Sora should thank his lucky stars he hadn't been awake. If he had, he would have screamed like a madman and run off to his parents' room crying his lungs out.

There was someone—something—standing by Sora's bed, watching him and his every movement. It was a silhouette that didn't have a clearly defined outline. Its profile flickering in and out of the vision of those who happened to see it, the only readily discernible feature of this ominous entity was its eyes that were glowing in the most unearthly manner in the darkness of the room.

It was a shadow person.

"So… ra…?" it whispered, sending another wave of chill that infiltrated the sleeping boy's blanket and causing him to shudder. "Your name… Sora…"

"I sleepwalked?" Sora lifted his gaze from the plate to meet his father's as he asked so.

The father sipped his morning coffee, set the cup down on the table, and nodded. "Want to take a guess what you were doing when I found you? Probably you're not going to like it, though."

Sora was curious to know, but the way his father had said his last sentence made him think the second time. Possibilities assaulted his mind; he tended to get hungry at night, so had he been walking about in the kitchen? Or had he subconsciously gone to the toilet and not been able to find his way back? Or worse yet, had he been wandering around the house naked? He didn't know where he got the idea of the last one from, but cringed at the thought nonetheless.

As though on cue, his father gave a clarification on that matter. "You were knocking on the store door. What did you do that for?"

"The store?" Sora's eyes widened. "What was I doing there?"

"That's exactly what I was asking."

"Well, you tell me, dad. I don't even remember a thing…"

Next it was his mother's turn to speak. "Your father also said you were coughing and sneezing last night. Were you sick?"

Getting more confused, Sora tilted his head to the side. He didn't remember showing any signs of illness, although he did remember that it had gotten slightly cold last night. Perhaps that explained why he had been sneezing, but as for coughing, he really had no idea. He knew his body and state of health, and he couldn't be more certain that he had been, and was, healthy.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked again. She pressed the back of her palm against Sora's forehead just to make sure he wasn't having any fever.

"Yeah. I'm really strong, don't you remember?" replied Sora while flexing his arms to emphasise his point.

The mother chuckled and ruffled her son's spiky mess of hair. "Of course you are. Now finish your breakfast so you can take a shower."

Sora did as thought. Her mother had offered to wash the dishes for him, so he immediately set off to the bathroom to have his morning shower. Not long after, the father also finished his breakfast, what remained being the cup of coffee he had been sipping in a leisurely pace. The mother collected all the plates, earning a "thanks" from her husband, and started washing them clean.

There was a slight period of silence before she spoke up. "You do know we can all go together if you want."

The father reassured that whatever it was, she didn't have to go. "Paperwork's a hell to go through. It's okay, I'll be fine as long as they don't get all too nosy."

"I was thinking of introducing myself and Sora along," she said again.

"Nah, he'd get bored easily. The mayor's going to visit our home someday anyway, so we can do all the intro then," he replied as he stood up, walked toward the sink, and handed his wife the now empty cup. He then proceeded to tenderly wrap his arms around her waist. "Besides, who's going to take care of our precious Sora and wonderful house if you're not around, Celia?"

The mother sighed, knowing that she wouldn't have her way now that he had unleashed his sure-fire way to make her yield: affection. Sora had always been able to do so, too, especially combined with those adorable puppy eyes. She didn't seem to mind, though. "Alright. Give my regards to the mayor, and tell him that the best time to visit is probably in the evening when things are starting to wind down."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Will do. Anything else?"

"Don't forget the light bulb."

"The store, huh… there are more important things to do about that room, too."

The mother shut the tap and turned around. "You promised Sora."

"Hey, I'm not about to go back on my words. I was just saying that much has to be done about it, not just the light bulb."

"Sure you were."

After sharing an affectionate moment, the couple let go. The father went back upstairs and prepared to go out and settle some paperwork regarding his moving-in, family registration, and issuance of new identification cards. On the other hand, the mother headed to the bathroom; she was just in time to see Sora emerge from inside, and knowing she would like to collect the clothes basket, he offered to help bring it over to the laundry.

Grateful, she allowed him to use his free time to do whatever he pleased. "Just don't wander around too much, because I'm going to clean the floor later. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am!" he replied with a salute before storming off to his room to play.

And with that, it was now time for the mother to do house chores. She felt thrilled because it had been ages since the last time she had done this, and as such it was a welcome change of pace. However, she knew that she wouldn't be able to take on everything, everyday considering the sheer size of the house, leading her to contemplate employing probably two maids: one to take care of the house, the other Sora.

"We can talk about it later, though. Now let's get things done," she said in a determined manner.

Post-note: Celia is the feminine form of the Anglicised version of caelum, a word that means "heaven" in Latin. It was chosen to go together with the theme of Sora's name (which is the Japanese word for "sky").