Inspired by a story I had wrote at one time and lost and a game my sister was playing all day, I'm really excited to continue work on this. Riku/Sora and Lex/Vex will be seen/mentioned in this story. I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter I

His House

The paint was peeling off the walls and the windows were caked with decades worth of dust, a testimony of its true age. There was no way this thing had been built within the past twenty years but regardless of the circumstances, Sora was just grateful to have the place. It was his eighteenth birthday present from his aunt, whose husband had just recently passed and thus she came into the house. However, stricken with guilt over the loss of her beloved she couldn't bring herself to move into the home where they had shared so many memories and in turn, entrusted it into Sora's care. It was old and desperately cried out days worth of back breaking work making it into a liveable situation but he was prepared for the worst of it. Nothing was going to seperate him from his new home.

Creak, creak, creak, called the steps as he ascended them, forcing open the door and bursting sunlight into the house. Out the corner of his eye he thought he saw something scurry and he cringed. Well that was wonderful. Traipsing about he threw back the shades and pushed open the old windows fighting him every inch of the way. Dust gagged him in every room and he briefly wondered how long it had truly been since someone lived here. Despite the appearance of the outside, the interior of the house looked relatively well-kept. Perhaps it wouldn't be so hard after all.

He walked up the old steps to the second floor and surveyed everything, familiarizing hismelf with all aspects of the house. It was quaint and set back away from the main settlement on the island but to Sora it was heaven. Someday once he got it all fixed up he'd have to bring his friends here. He knew they'd love it too, once they saw it. He tried the faucets and the tubs ensuring the water was on and functioning before going about beginning his cleaning. He hung his coat on a chair and went about wiping away the dust and dirt from the windows, sunlight streaming in to reward his efforts, bathing everything in a warm summer's glow. This was the perfect way to spend his first week of eternal freedom from school.

Heading back upstairs Sora began to sand down the drawers of an old desk in the corner, sliding open an attachment he supposed served as a tray. A soft flutter caught his attention and when he looked down he saw an envelope. He sat down on the floor and examined it, the aging paper beginning to yellow but there was nothing to indicate any sort of ownership. Opening it he withdrew a paper and upon closer examination determined it to be a poem though, again, there was no signature nor rhyme to uncover the hidden recipient.

Under cover of moon

I watch you softly glow

With golden mane

And emerald eye

Watching me

Slow and deep

As if you might swallow me

Heart and soul and body whole

My beloved prince

Remember clear

The days of then

Unlike the haunting

Times of present

Without you here

My life is feared

To be of naught meaning

This home we shared

This love we held

Cherished as we adored each other

Two children in love

The winds that stole you away

There is no worry

Together we

Forever remain

Within these walls

A wind whipped in through the window and Sora clung to the poem for dear life, unable to shake the cryptic words from his head. He folded it up and stuffed the envelope back into the drawer for later consideration. He had too much to do right now. Picking up the sandpaper he began work again, the tattered wood slowly turning to a smoother surface. The more he worked the less he concentrated, unable to shake the poem from his head. He didn't know why he allowed it to bother him so much and he surmised it must have just been his nerves getting the better of him. He was always with his friends, no matter where he was. This was truly his first time ever living completely alone for an extended period. It would just take some getting used to.

Wiping the sand dust from his hands he turned and headed back downstairs to begin loading in some of his bags. It was nice of Wakka to let him borrow his car to move now that he had gone away to college with Tidus. A little pang of loneliness struck his heart. He sure did miss them now that he thought about it. They were growing up now. Life was going to begin wedging itself deep cracks between he and his childhood friends and it would be up to them to not lose each other. There would be no more days spent sparring and playing tag on the beach, no more evenings of going to bed and anticipating a bright and busy day in school and then going to crowd into the secret place under the tree and talk for hours. There would be no more of that. They were adults now and the sudden realization he was growing up left Sora uneasy.

He hooked up the phone and plopped down on the wood floor, quickly dialing Riku's number. He had to talk to someone now. He hated this uneasiness, this loneliness. He was still so damned innocent, so naiive. He wasn't ready to grow up yet, he realized, and here he was on his own in his first house all by himself. He was scared. He wasn't ready for this.

"Hello?" Riku's voice sounded so much deeper now.

"Riku! It's me, Sora!" It felt so good to hear his best friend's voice again.

"Sora? Hey! Your mom said you finally moved into the old place up the hill. What's it like?" Sora laid back and gazed around his house. His house. How cool it felt to say that.

"It's pretty cool! A little beat up on the outside but everything inside looks really taken care of except for all the dust. But guess what!" he sat up, "I found this old letter in a desk I was sanding."

"Letter?" Riku's voice perked with curiosity.

"Yeah.. it looked like an old poem that never made it to someone. Whoever that was supposed to be. Someone with blonde hair and green eyes." The other line was silent.

"You know anything about the past owners of the house?" Riku suggested.

"Ya know.." Come to think of it, Sora never really did ask. His parents said his aunt and uncle had bought it after the past owners mysteriously disappeared but he found no reason to inquire further. "My aunt did mention there were two people who lived here awhile ago that mysteriously vanished. Maybe that poem was written by one of them?"

"It's a possibility. Look, I'm kinda busy right now. Call me tomorrow and I'll come over and maybe we can figure something out, okay? Take care, man."

"Yeah.. you too." Sora hung up and just laid there, staring up at the matching ceiling. The warm, fuzzy feeling suddenly vanished from inside his chest and he was left once again with unshakeable loneliness. He went into the kitchen and packed away the food he had brought with him, he'd definately need to go shopping later on. For now dinner was a sandwich and some fruit, enough to keep his stomach silent whilst he finished his work. He'd nourish himself better later on but for now he just wanted to feel like he was getting somewhere. The more he did on the house the more that seemed to need reorganizing or fixing and the more overwhelming it became.

Night seemed to fall upon the house quickly, blanketing everything in velvet darkness dimly illuminated by the soft shine of the moonbeams. Sora looked up from where he'd been pulling weeds in the flowerbed in the back and checked his watch, the didgital face reading almost ten. Heaving a sigh he silently congratulated himself on a job well done and headed back into the house, throwing his dirty shirt onto a chair. He'd worry about it tomorrow.

Ascending the stairs he changed into some pajama pants and flopped back on the bed, clicking on a lamp at the bedside. The electricity worked too, that was a relief. He laid back on the bed and wiped the sweat from his brow, his body aching in protest of the long day's work but he desperately needed a shower. Against the screaming persistence of his aching muscles Sora ran a bath and heaved himself into the tub. His eyes fluttered as the hot water instantly relaxed his muscles, taking away all the stress and ache.

Leaning his head back against the tub Sora allowed his mind to drift, recanting everything that he'd done, making a mental to-do list for tomorrow and cringing everytime a new task was added. The odds of him finishing all this within one lifetime appeared insurmountable. He knew he could do it. With determination and a replenished fountain of optimism he could do this. This was his house. His very own first house and he wasn't about to let a little hard work scare him away. All the strife would pay off in the end. The reward would be all the sweeter.

Thump.

Sora jumped, his eyes glued to the door.

Thump.

There it was again.

Thump.

Louder this time...

Thump thump thump.

Sora rose from his bath and quickly pulled on some pants, grabbbing the plunger and beheading it, the remaing stick his ownly defense. He didn't know what was out there but he wasn't about to risk it. He kicked open the door and jumped into the hall, whirling this way and that swinging the stick blindly and shouting. When his tirade ended Sora realized he was swinging at nothing. There was nothing there. Absolutely nothing. He lowered his weapon to the ground and stared down the dark, silent hall. Nothing. It was just his nerves, he reasoned. Yes, just his nerves.

He backed into the bathroom and drained the water from the tub, determing his bath officially over. He'd take one tomorrow when he wasn't so on edge. He was all alone in a foreign setting it was best to be alert and not so vulnerable. Just in case there was anything out there. Just in case. He picked up the stick and tried to click on the hall light, his heart sinking when he got no response. So the hall light didn't work. Great. He picked up a flashlight he had been carrying with him for such an occasion and clicked off the bathroom light. He slowly advanced through the creepy old house, his nerves tightly coiled around themselves. The air around him seemed to shift and the closer he got to the bedroom the colder it seemd to get.

Turning the corner he bolted the last few steps into the bedroom and slammed the doro shut, clicking on the light. Nothing lunged at him from under the bed. No monster made itself apparent in the closet. His heart raced in his chest as he sat down on the bed, a shaking mass of nerves and terror. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready. He wanted to be home with his parents where nothing could get him, where he was safe and warm and secure. He wanted to just curl up and cry.

Forcing back the tears Sora click on a radio next to him and let the smooth croon of midnight jazz wrap him in a blanket of false security. Nothing would get him. He would be okay. He rose up and walked the room, eyesing the ornate icy carvings of the wall border where it met the ceiling. It was rather nice. What caught his attention the most was a large tapestry of a winter snowscape against one of the walls. It looked so out of place with the rest of the room. There were better places Sora determined he could hang it. It would be a nice piece in the living room.

He yanked at the material until it came free from the nails in the wall high above his head. As the cloth slid to the floor with a heavy thud the boy's eyes widened. Hidden by the tapesty was a dark rusty spot, long lines running down the wall to stop abruptly above the floor where someone had tried to clean it before he'd moved in. Reaching out a shaky hand his fingertips grazed the spot, a soft cry escaping him as a violent wind outside shook the walls of the house, the lights flickering and buzzing. Sora dropped to his knees and buried his face in his knees, sobbing in sheer terror. It was blood. Blood hidden beneath the tapestry.

Bounding to the desk Sora ripped out the poem and stared at the last line before lifting his eyes back up to the angry dark blotch against the cream wallpaper. The realization he wasn't alone in this house terrified him. There was someone still in this house. A dead someone. Very possibly the blonde haired green eyed prince spoken of in the very poem he clutched in his shaking hands. Pocketing the paper he grabbed the tapestry and made his way downstairs, cuddling up under the heavy fabric and crying himself into a horrified sleep.

Together we

Forever remain

Within these walls