DOTR: Tis me again, fans, and I just recently watched this anime (K) with my girlfriends [I know, a little late in just watching it] and we're like, wait, Suoh Mikoto looks so much like Axel! Look he even has fire abilities. Now I'm sure I'm not the only one who thought this, right? . . . right? Anyways, sorry I haven't been on in a while but life's been hectic on my end and so if someone else has already had this idea and written a fanfic similar please tell me 'cause I don't like stealin' ideas. If not then I guess I'll continue. Only if you guys give me tons of reviews and tell me what you think! Thanks bunches, fans. Enjoy!

"Is it really my fault that I'm in this predicament? !" Roxas nearly shouted at the top of his lungs while his frustration coursed throughout his body, his hands shaking in fury as he held the crumbled map looking straight into the spot he was supposed to be standing at right now. "I'm going to kill that damn old man for giving me a shitty map." This Roxas swore.

With a sigh, Roxas scratched the back of his head and took in his surroundings. He wasn't familiar with any of it. Blue eyes glancing back down to the map with utter hopelessness.

"I'm never going to find my way out of this city!" Roxas whined, throwing his head back and cursing at the heavens.

Roxas then slumped forward and dug into his pockets, grabbing his cellphone and flipping it open—dead. Dead. Dead.

"Hhhrr, I'm going to kill those guys," Roxas threatened as he closed his phone and pushed it back into his pocket. Thanks to Roxas' no-good friends all he knows is a few nights ago he got smashed at a party all four of them went to and then after getting completely wasted his best bud, Hayner, decides it's the funniest idea to drive him out of town and into the farthest city he could find, drop him off with a dead cellphone, no wallet, and let him find his way out of the concrete jungle all on his own. Jackasses.

"Well, no use complaining about them. That'll not only waste my breath, but my time I need to be spending on finding my way to the police station," Roxas said with a nod as he continued on, holding the map close as he scanned the area for any street signs that seemed familiar to the names he's supposed to be looking for. "Once there I'm going to call the gang and make sure they drive their asses down here and waste their entire tank, which I'm sure they will, and then I'll be the one laughing at them while they use the rest of their paycheck on that guzzler and—!"

Roxas nearly fell right down onto the dirty pavement of the sidewalk he had been walking on since morning—since he woke up really. Once he caught his footing he looked to see a group of black cloaked men running just past him. Looking around, Roxas looked for other bystanders who thought this scene was just a little more than weird, just like him, but he found himself alone on the street. Actually there weren't any cars either. It was a pretty dead street and it was high noon!

"What are—?" Roxas cocked his head to the side as he watched the cloaked men rush forward as if they were in a hurry to find something. Roxas really didn't want to know. He had more pressing matters to attend to, like find that police station.

Roxas was about to look back down at the map when a vibrant color caught his eye. He blinked before looking up and noticed a tall slender man come walking out of a side street in the most casual of ways. With hands in his pockets he turned toward the cloaked men and took a stance of resistance. Red. His hair was a color so red that it drew on Roxas' full attention in the oddest of ways. This man was full of color, really. His eyes were bright green like nothing Roxas has ever seen before. The only thing less vibrant was his dark choice in clothing.

Roxas didn't know why, but he swore the man emitted a glow about him, a glow akin to a light red in color. Maybe it was just the sun that's melted Roxas' brain. Now, all Roxas could do was scoot back into the building he stood closest to as he watched the cloaked men stop and stare at the man for a moment before exclaiming,

"The Red King! Contain him as soon as possible!"

Is this even legal? Roxas mentally questioned while he watched the men run towards the man with what appeared to be weapons in hand. Just what exactly was going on?

Suddenly Roxas began to sweat. He rose his hand and rubbed his face to find it quite moist with unforeseen sweat. Why was he sweating? He then turned back towards the scene at hand to watch the air around ripple. Roxas blinked. Wait, that wasn't right. But there was no mistaking it; the area around them was rippling as if Roxas had landed himself in the Sahara Desert.

And then, Roxas beheld the strangest thing he's ever seen—spontaneous combustion. Yep, it was real. Roxas didn't believe it, his friends didn't believe it and now look, the black cloaked man who was closest to reaching that redhead with his electrical weapon suddenly just burst into flame. If it wasn't for the horrendous screams, Roxas would have believed this all to be a dream induced by the large quantities of alcohol he consumed illegally with his three amigos.

But it wasn't.

No, this—this was real. Too real.

"Oh God!" Roxas gasped, flattening himself against the building he had leaned against to watch the event and slowly began backing up, closer toward the alley he had just past by earlier.

The cloaked men stopped and looked at their fallen comrade. Roxas could tell they were tense and a little more than unnerved to go any closer to that dangerous man.

"Red King!" They spoke, the title apparently the other held since the redhead's green eyes focused closer towards the men calling him out. "By law you are restricted from usage of your abilities in public."

Abilities? Making someone suddenly turn into a human firework is an ability? Since when? ! Roxas swallowed hard. This wasn't real. This wasn't real at all!

Lazily, almost playfully, the redhead turned his head from side to side and then his eyes met blue. He gazed into Roxas' eyes for but a moment and in that moment Roxas held his breath for no apparent reason to himself other than he had been frightened by this man. A smirk crossed over the tall man's lips before letting out a sigh. Rolling his shoulders in a shrug he responded, "I don't see anyone else here other than you and I. This isn't public if I do say so myself."

"You are already in violation!" the men called out. "Return with us and there shall be no more offenses directed toward you."

"No, of course not." The smirk faded from the "Red King's" lips and he looked quite annoyed. "I left because I didn't like it there. There's no way in Hell that I'll return to that shithole with you. Tell the other Kings I said 'Hey' will ya?"

He then turned around and proceeded to walk away with just a simple wave of the hand. That didn't seem to sit well with the others though.

"Halt!" they called out, but nothing they shouted his way seemed to discourage his retreat. "Red King!"

Just as Roxas slunk himself into that alleyway he had set his mind to, his eyes widened as the men brought out some strange beacon device. They held it high and in an instant Roxas heard the whirling sound of some kind of an aircraft. Looking up, Roxas watched as this "Red King" stopped and turned just in time for the aircraft to strike. Whatever it was, it fell upon the redhead with such velocity that it shook and even shattered some of the glass windows around the whole quiet block. Roxas was a little more than shaken up himself, both physically and mentally.

So much dust was in the air that Roxas could hardly tell what happened other than the common sensible fact that something hit that "Red King" guy, like a missile or drone or something! He was probably putty on the concrete now and that was Roxas' cue to get the hell out of there.

Stumbling back Roxas tried to get his legs to move and run right down that alleyway until he came out on the other side of the road and hopefully found a more promising street with actual pedestrians and cars and normality. But nothing's gone Roxas' way since he woke up with that hang over, no siree. Something hot suddenly pushed against his back and as Roxas glanced behind him he wished he hadn't. The air around was rippling so quickly that the color behind him was glowing a hot red and suddenly, Roxas' body was forced forward and his skull instantly cracked against a large dumpster moving about the same miles per hour he was. After flipping over said dumpster, Roxas hit the pavement and rolled right into some half full trashcans, the contents inside flying into the air and all around until gravity returned itself.

Roxas was only dazed for half a second. He couldn't afford to be dazed for any longer. So he scrambled to hands and knees, about to push himself upward to walk upright when he noticed the crumbled map that old man had given to him just this morning lying covered with ketchup and other 'stuff' in the strewn about garbage.

"My map!" Roxas gasped, crawling like a baby in an Infant Race 500 to get to it quickly. But he stopped dead short of it as black boots cut sight of the crumbled piece of paper and turned in his direction. Roxas swallowed whatever he could as his mouth turned to cotton and his hands curled into trembling fists.

Slowly, too slowly, Roxas looked up and even though he wished it had been someone else to find him like this—hell, he'd even go for Seifer and his goons to take pictures of him like this and put them up as his graduation photos—he knew who this was standing before him. Green gazed into blue and yet the green held no menace like it had before, toward the men in the black cloaks.

Roxas chanced a quick peek back toward his good-for-nothing-yet-still-unreasonably-precious map. That quick eye movement was caught up in those emeralds and Roxas watched as the redheaded man turned and looked at the piece of paper before bending down and taking it up in hand. He gave it a shake from the condiments that coated it before he turned back toward Roxas and held it out before him in question.

"Are you lost, kid?" The question really had a double meaning. The question asked as stated, but it also asked another, well the hand shaking the dangling map in front of Roxas' face did. Pretty much the double question was, 'Is this yours?' and Roxas knew it, he was just a little unnerved with previous happenstance to do anything at the moment. Much less answer a question.

Roxas didn't know what possessed his hand to even reach up and take the map out of the other's hand, but it did and the redhead didn't even look offended as Roxas snatched the paper away and quickly scooted away to stand up and look at the map, his eyes scanning over it with sheer desperation, more so than he's ever had by now. If he could will himself to that police station then he would, but it appeared that wouldn't be happening any time soon.

"New to the city it looks like."

Roxas looked up at the dangerous man before him and froze. A chuckle was on the redhead's lips and a small playful gleam could be caught in his eyes if Roxas dared peer close or deep enough.

"My-My friends thought it would-that it would be funny to drop me off in a-in a new city," Roxas managed out, feeling unreasonably insignificant before this towering man—wow, Roxas only came just to the redhead's shoulders, he was as short as Seifer made fun of him for being.

"And you're looking for—?" The redhead tried coaxing out of Roxas what Roxas has been trying to get out for a while.

"The, the . . ." Roxas suddenly stopped his lips from moving again. Wait, if I tell him I'm looking for the Police Station then he might attack me. This guy has to be a criminal! Look what he did to those guys! Well whatever he did to them I don't want it happening to me to, so play it safe Roxas. Play it safe. "The ice-cream shop," Roxas ended with the most horrible lie he could come up with. Well that just placed you in the Guinness Book of World Dumbasses!

"Ice-cream?"

"Ice-cream," Roxas nodded praying his luck hadn't run out—or rather hoping it was still there. Suddenly the redhead smiled, not a smirk or anything on the sinister note, but a tooth and, dare Roxas say, friendly smile.

"A sweet tooth, huh? I know just the place for you. Come on!" Turning on his heel, the redhead darted out in the direction Roxas had been heading before he had been struck by some heat force he assumed was prompted by this "King" those weirdoes kept talking about.

Roxas took one step out but stopped. What the hell was he doing? Why was he so willingly following this obviously dangerous man? Was he that dumb?

"What's wrong?" Roxas looked up and noticed the other had turned and was waiting for him, almost like how a close friend would patiently wait for their buddy. What was up with this guy? No matter how he tried to appeal to Roxas, Roxas knew better. Something wasn't right with this guy and it was something dangerous.

"N-Nothing," Roxas lied, shaking his head. "I was, uh, just wondering what flavors they had."

"Loads," the redhead replied, looking down at him with a smile. "Have any favorites?"

"Not really," Roxas said.

"Then I'll pick you out one. Trust me, you'll love it," He said, nodding his head in the direction he wanted to go and then started walking away casually—like nothing out of the ordinary ever happened . . . ever.

Slowly scuffling along Roxas found himself at a small ice-cream shop. The taller man beside him poked his head through the entrance and looked around before calling out a name—probably the owner's name—he then wandered off and left Roxas.

Now's your chance, Roxas! Run for it before you meet the same end as those cloaked guys! Roxas' subconscious said and seemed to get louder and louder the more Roxas stood there like a moron. He just couldn't move and right when he decided enough was enough and went to turn, that redhead was back.

"Looks like he went out for a little while, damn fool always leaves his store unlocked when he goes on errands. Oh well." With a sigh and shrug Roxas watched as this "Red King" went into the back and picked up a scoop and went to work.

"W-What are you doing? You're going to get in trouble!" Roxas gasped.

"You should know by now I don't care about getting into trouble, Blondie." With a dangerous smirk and even more dangerous wink, the proclaimed "Red King" went to work until he had two 8oz bowls and then gave them both to Roxas. Afterwards he fished into his pocket and pulled out a few bills . . . those few bills just happened to be 4 sets of 20's. He slapped them down on the counter and then picked up a hooked key on a small nail hanging near the cash register.

He twirled it around his fingers before motioning for Roxas to exit. Roxas stood outside and watched, bewildered as the redhead locked the door and then slid the key under the mat. What kind of a man was this redhead? Those cloaked guys seemed afraid of him and now Roxas was beholding someone who seemed genuinely sincere and friendly. What kind of a facade was this?

"Alright, take a bite and tell me what you think," the redhead said, taking up his bowl from Roxas' grasp and then leaning against the store's doorframe.

Roxas looked at the redhead with almost blank eyes before he looked at him utterly confused.

"The ice-cream; take a bite." To demonstrate what he meant, the redhead took up the spoon stabbed into the ice-cream and picked it up and placed some into his mouth. "See?"

"O-Oh," Roxas blushed in embarrassment from zoning out at an inappropriate moment like that, but did as instructed. Well, the ice-cream was good. Pretty good actually.

"And does the zombie like it?" A hopeful look passed over the taller's face.

"What's it called?" Roxas asked.

"Sea salt ice-cream; once I was introduced to it, I never went back," the redhead admitted with no shame at all and a proud nod of his head.

And then came that awkward silence as the two chowed down on their ice-cream and it went on before Roxas couldn't stomach the rest of the ice-cream. He bent down sat back on his heels before placing his half eaten ice-cream down next to him, his face suddenly gone pale.

"Anything wrong, Zombie?" The redhead looked down at Roxas curiously.

"Roxas, my name's Roxas." Roxas could hardly care if this man was a serial killer and now knew his name. He wasn't feeling well and it was because he was around him.

"You shouldn't have told me your name."

Roxas' stomach twisted even more and he didn't know if that ice-cream consumption was such a good idea. He looked up at the redhead who then smiled, taking another bite of the light blue ice-cream.

"I wanted to keep calling you Zombie," he replied with a chuckle.

Now Roxas really didn't feel too good. Looking up at the redhead Roxas swore he saw those green eyes glow a red color. He really needed to find that police station. So, Roxas finally decided to just walk away.

"Okay, sorry, but I need to get going," Roxas said as he stood up, took a deep breath and hoped he wouldn't get stopped any further. To his surprise, the other was just simply finishing off his ice-cream.

"See ya then, try and not get lost again," were his last words before Roxas turned and began walking and walking and walking before . . . he turned back toward the ice-cream shop and felt his stomach do a backflip inside him. The redhead was gone.

Roxas looked around and even though the area was fairly empty, Roxas had noticed a car or two drive by, so he wasn't completely alone, right?

"Right," Roxas said with a sigh before looking down and opening up his crumbled map. "Now to find that police station."

It hadn't changed, the report hadn't changed in five years and by all the stars above they needed it to change.

Gold King—Indissoluble Comatose.

Silver King—Incapacitated.

Red King—Incarceration Pending.

Blue King—Incapacitated.

Green King—Incapacitated.

Violet King—Incapacitated.

Colorless King—Monitored Surveillance.

His eyes scanned those four words that brought more dread than all of the world's problems combined: Red King—Incarceration Pending. Of all the Seven Kings it has to be that one that keeps evading them. One of the most dangerous and he cannot be captured, much less found. It is strange for a King to hide himself for so long and yet this one has.

"Lord Ansem, this is urgent."

An agent was at the door and the elderly man turned from his papers and looked at him with hard eyes, ready for any news of good or bad.

"What is it?" He asked, clasping his hands together and rubbing his knuckles with the tips of his fingers.

"The Red King, his Weismann levels were detected on our scanners," the agent informed. "But our agents in the vicinity of the detection . . ."

"I see," Ansem replied, closing his eyes and then standing up. "Have you fixated the location? We'll deploy more scouts and agents."

"It was the west side of Twilight City," the agent informed.

"A city?" Ansem's eyes widened before he shook his head. "No, we can't have him around civilians. It's too dangerous, he's too dangerous. No, to battle a King, we'll need another King, one that will cooperate with the Organization and bring our Red King home."

"Do you wish me to retrieve him?" the agent asked, knowing of which King was most willing to listen to his Lord.

"Yes, bring me the Blue King," Ansem ordered and watched as the agent bowed and left to retrieve just that—another King.

DOTR: Hm, I wonder if some 'o you's guys can figure out who's which "King." Give you a hint . . . they're all dudes! ;p