Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ A Balm for Social Failure ❯ Digging In ( Chapter 34 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A Balm for Social Failure

(Chapter 34: Digging In)
Light x L

L begins to suspect something is missing from his life. He believes the key to be in social interaction - his weak point. At the appearance of the enigma named Light Yagami, he is challenged to rise to the occasion.

Disclaimer: see ch. 1 for full disclaimer

A/N: Ok, people. PITCH is up and waiting for you to grace it with your loveliness. You know I'll turn it into pervy hardcore LightxL at some point, so give it a go, yeah?. ;D

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Chapter 34:

Ryuuk hummed to himself, infinitely pleased that things had turned out just as he'd planned.

L, while in some ways more difficult to handle than Light had been, was a great deal of fun.

The detective was currently sitting at the table in the suite with his head pillowed in his arms, struggling to hold himself in check. He was obviously upset and not having a good time of it.

This was the very thing Light would have been so pissed off about, had he known. That giving up his memories would have a greater effect on him than he suspected and that L would be thrown into such turmoil. For L would now be forced to endure Light's saintly persecution, or bring back the personality that had abused him so, the one which he had longed to be rid of. The choice was the true torture of it. The genius of it, if Ryuuk did say so himself.

He hadn't expected the detective to kill someone with the death note, however, especially not in front of Light - that had been an added bonus. Just the fact that L was holding Light captive and would not be able to explain why, or why he was disallowed to see anyone, would have been enough to strain the situation.

Just enough so that L might consider restoring Light's memories.

Not that he would. After all, it seemed both L and Light had deemed it for the best that Kira be forgotten. But L was still considering it and hating himself for considering it.

It was delightful.

It was a choice between the deterioration and decay of the bond they had between them as the lies built upon evasions and mistrust, versus the violent and unpredictable nature of Kira.

Ryuuk did rather miss the version of Light he'd come to know, but L had become sharper in Kira's absence, more rigid, as if to make up for the lack and it was quite amusing.

Unfortunately, they seemed less prone to being entertaining in other ways.

Ryuuk drifted down from the ceiling and took up residence under the table. He giggled to himself, wondering how long it would take L to notice.

L shifted and Ryuuk popped his head up through the table to look at him. L's messy hair looked like it would be fun to play with. Maybe he could tie knots in it later when his new human wasn't looking.

"What is it, Ryuuk?"

L's dark, bland gaze rose to meet his. Ryuuk was slightly disappointed that he did not look like he'd been crying.

"Er - I'm out of apples," he said, trying for diversion first.

L glared at him balefully. He had given Ryuuk access to a near endless supply. "I'm not stupid, and neither are you. Tell me what you want, or get the hell away from me."

Ryuuk felt his otherworldly heart flutter a little as L acknowledged his intelligence. This might very well be the first human to see through his act so quickly and absolutely. It was somewhat thrilling. Even Light, who had certainly suspected as much, had never called him on it fully. He grinned. "I'm out of the good ones." In addition to quantity, L had even thought to provide him with a wide variety of different apples, something he could come to love in a human.

L sat up, frowning largely as he leaned back in his chair, erasing the small stress lines that had accented his eyes until his face was a boring mask. "I'm waiting," was all he said.

Ryuuk sighed. Sometimes L was no fun at all. But he was creative death god, so he was sure he could goad L into doing something more interesting. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

"Nothing that concerns you, obviously."

"Of course it does. Light was my former human master. He may be insufferably boring now, but that doesn't mean I don't still care."

"Indeed."

"So I was wondering how long you are going to pretend that he isn't in there wondering what you're up to? Last I checked, he seemed pissed off, kind of like how he used to be." Ryuuk giggled.

"I told him I had things to take care of," L said shortly.

"And he knows you're lying." Ryuuk leaned forward through the table and tilted his head at L with a chuckle. "Seems like honesty is still important to him, eh?"

"I can't be honest or there is no point to him losing his memories. The less he knows about Kira, the better."

"So why don'tcha just give him his memories back? He was more fun as Kira anyhow."

"I can't."

"Sure you can! Then it will be like old times. He'll jump you, you'll fight him off, and in the end you'll end up doing your little human activities, and everybody's happy." Ryuuk grinned to show that this was a good thing.

L made a sound of disgust then got up from the table.

"What?" Ryuuk said, rising out of the table to perch on top of it. "So you got hurt a little. You healed. What's the problem?"

Ryuuk tracked him as he strode across the room and exited the suite, slamming the door behind him.

The Shinigami scratched at the side of his face with a taloned finger and smiled. "Was it something I said?"

---

L returned to the hotel in which he was keeping Light several hours later. As he'd thought, splitting his time between locations - here and the hotel the task force used- was irritating. The task force was unaware that this was the case, and he was in no hurry to enlighten them to his diminished presence.

There were things he'd had to take care of... Watari being chief among them.

Watari knew all about his suspicion that the man, who turned out to be Mikami Teru, was the second Kira. He was also aware that the man had abducted Light. What he did not know was that Light had lost his memories, Mikami was dead, and that L had two notebooks in his possession.

Aiber still had Light's old notebook, for the time being, and L had Mikami's.

L would not be able to explain the aborted writing of his true name in Mikami's death note, so he decided to employ a bit of deception. Watari must never know that he used a notebook in order to kill his adversary.

L considered presenting Light's old notebook as the one Mikami used, but the names inside would not have matched the second Kira's recent activity. Ripping out all of the pages might have been a viable option, but he needed proof that this was, without a doubt, the killer's notebook. The thought of being without Ryuuk was a tempting one, but there would likely be consequences to switching death notes, and he did not know if the deal for the eyes was permanent, or upheld only with the particular Shinigami you made the trade with. He was unwilling to test it out, as he had given up half of his lifespan already and would most assuredly not be repeating the process.

Half.

In the moment, it had seemed worth it. A reasonable gamble when everything had seemed to be slipping through his fingers like quicksilver. Without the trade, he might have lost Light. Without it, he might have lost his own life.

It seemed a logical choice, and let him be assured that Light was no longer in possession of a death note, but...

...half. Half of his remaining years was a hefty price. Weighty indeed, irrevocable, and necessary at the time. It stung a little to dwell upon it. He would have to avoid doing so.

Needless to say, he must keep Light's death note, and give Mikami's over for inspection. The most simple of fixes, he concluded was to rip out and destroy the page with his name and several more pages bearing the names of recent victims. He could not return to the second Kira's apartment, nor could he tamper with or search the scene, but he was fairly certain that Mikami was clever enough to have removed blank pages of the note which he could use more conveniently than the entire notebook.

This is what he relayed to Watari.

Mikami was dead when he entered the premises, Light seemed to no longer be Kira, nor did he have a notebook, and L had secured both Light and Mikami's notebook before filing a report and calling in the death to be investigated. Mikami's notebook did not bear the entirety of the names he was attributed to having killed, and L surmised that he had ripped out pages and been using them exclusively until the end. As for how L had known where the notebook was, he said simply that Mikami must have been considering using it when he collapsed. There was no pen in evidence, so it must have been directly after he'd retrieved it.

Watari accepted the reason L gave for taking the notebook - it was a faux pas to tamper with a possible murder scene - that L did not want the notebook to be left where anyone could pick it up.

Yes, Watari was entirely accepting. It made L experience a twinge of guilt that he could not be upfront with the man, and that his lies were so easily believed.

It was too easy.

Not to say that that heralded something dark and unfortunate in the making... It was simply that he never believed it would take so little effort to deceive everyone on such a large scale. Likely it was his reputation that made it all go so smoothly - a thing he was not entirely happy about.

L instructed Watari to have Mikami's apartment searched for any blank, lined scraps of paper that could possibly be from a death note, and to have them held as evidence, if found. That, if they were able to locate any, along with the death note found in Mikami's possession, should prove enough to support his story and close the case.

The only thing Watari held reservation over was that Light had lost all memory of being Kira.

L suggested that the older man come see for himself.

There was no rush, however, as Light was still shaken from his captivity. He explained the specifics and the fact that Mikami may have sexually assaulted the brunette.

Watari frowned deeply and said that he would see Light as soon as L deemed it possible.

L climbed the hotel stairs closest to the room Light was in, preferring the less trafficked mode of ascent for the time being. There were a dozen other little things he had seen to while he was away, but none that could take his mind off of the brunette.

It had occurred to him earlier that whatever had taken place between Light and Mikami, that it was his own fault. Light had given up the death note, just as L had required of him, thus leaving himself defenseless against the Kira fanatic who was holding him captive.

Light was a master manipulator, sure to be able to handle himself and the people around him in any situation... but losing his memories had thrown him off a great deal, and he had not been functioning with all of the pertinent information at his disposal. As he was now, Light appeared defenseless when compared to his persona when Kira was present. Mikami must have taken that change as a sign to force some sort of sexual encounter, the only thing L could think of as being the cause for Light's gap in memory and how fervently he tried to avoid physical contact when he was brought closer to remembering something.

He wanted to know what had happened as much as he did not wish to know.

How far had Mikami taken things?

But only Light could relay such things now, and his mind was pushing the memories into a deep void.

L let himself into the fifth floor room, noting with satisfaction that Ryuuk had vacated the area while he was gone. The Shinigami was getting on his last nerve. In a roundabout way, he had a point, though. L either had to figure out how to keep Light in the dark and get himself used to the changes the other boy had undergone, or he needed to just give him his memories back.

He'd given that great thought.

But it was a trick of the mind that had him thinking only of the things he missed, instead of everything about Kira he had raged against, despised, and felt powerless against. As he mulled it over, a plethora of scenarios fought their way inside his head, all of the countless times he had cursed Kira and why.

This was for the best. Even Light thought it was for the best, as he had been unable to control himself, or keep from inflicting damage upon L both physically and psychologically.

He must not see this as a setback in their relationship, as being forced to start over, but as an opportunity to build things up in a way that was tenable for both of them.

He was being too sensitive over the killing thing. If he gave Light time, the other boy would surely see the necessity of the act, and that he should not judge him so harshly for it. He would eventually understand. Not even 24 hours had passed after all. He had to be more patient. Light would come to understand, and that strain would disappear.

What remained difficult was the subject of Kira.

He could not keep eluding Light, and expect the other boy to take his evasions in stride. But how much could he really tell him?

He would have to wing it, he supposed, for he was already turning the key in the deadbolt that kept the bedroom door locked tight.

"Where were you?" Light lost no time in asking, the moment L moved through the doorway. His tone was stiff and unpleasant.

L twisted the key to re-engage the deadbolt and slipped it into his pocket. "I told you, I had things to take care of." Truth be told, when he had left the room previously, he'd had no such things on his mind. He simply needed to get out.

Light was sitting sullenly on the bed, his eyes narrowed in what could be taken as banked anger. "It was an excuse. I can tell when you are lying to me, Ryuuzaki."

L looked him in the eye. "I really did have things to attend to."

"What things?" Suspicion laced his voice.

"I cannot tell you at this time."

"Then how am I supposed to believe you? Perhaps you found things to attend as an afterthought, but when you left earlier, I believe it was because something I said bothered you."

And so, the act begins. L knew he would have to be very careful in the way that he handled himself from now on. Too little truth and the brunette's suspicious nature really would set them back. He rounded the bed. Too much truth was equally undesirable. Light was watching him, his eyes full of challenge. Displeased. The fight in him was certainly finding its way to the surface. L should have known he wouldn't be completely demure for long.

"I hate being lied to," Light warned.

"I'm well aware," L said and sat on the edge of the bed. He held Light's gaze, and thought of all the things he had taken care of over the last few hours. "I really did have things I had to do, and time was of the utmost importance. I apologize if I seemed too abrupt, but once thought upon, certain matters demanded to be addressed."

Light studied him, then relaxed ever so slightly against the pillows propped against the headboard. "Evasion counts as lying, even if you inject a little truth in it."

Amber eyes were more forgiving now, but still held fast to L's face.

"Your memory loss bothers me." Truth. A nice summary to the myriad of things bothering him.

"I think I have resolved the bulk of that unfortunate issue by now." Light's tone was haughty. He was confident, but not 100 percent. The slight doubt was probably eating at him. He'd always treasured his mind, and just recently, that mind had become unreliable.

"You don't remember what you've forgotten," L said quietly.

"Now that I have most of it sorted, you could enlighten me as to what I'm missing."

"Not if I wasn't there." He decided he could discuss the incident with Mikami, at the least, even if he could not mention Kira. It was safer to delve into and truly bothered him to a great extent.

Light's face became drawn. "Let's not discuss that. I can't remember anything, so as far as I am concerned, nothing happened." He sighed, closing his eyes.

"Something did happen, or you would not have a gaping hole in your memories," L persisted. And Light accused him of being evasive! "When I think that such could have been prevented had I arrived earlier..."

"Ryuuzaki, your tenacity leaves something to be desired. When I say I am done discussing something, I mean it." He crossed his arms over his chest, a frown marking his face, his eyes remaining stubbornly closed. "Besides, there is no reason for you to think that it was your timing that allowed it - or whatever - to happen. The man is dead, so I hardly see that it matters."

"Why do you fault me for it? Would it be different if you remembered what he did to you? Would it be justice then, or are you going to stubbornly cling to the question of morality regardless?" L had tried to let go the acid that lined his stomach each time this topic surfaced, but it was an intellectual decision that his emotions, unfortunately, had not gotten on board with yet.

"You act like I'm at fault for thinking killing is wrong."

He doesn't know. He doesn't know. He can't know. This line of discussion cannot go anywhere. Agree to disagree. Give him time, like you originally planned. Stop beating this to death.

"Ryuuzaki," Light said quietly, interrupting the tumultuous flood of his thoughts, "I don't like this discord we've had between us."

"Neither do I," he replied somberly.

"What started it all? What really started it all?"

Remembered words and actions flickered through his mind, all swirling around and catching together, crystallizing into the last deep fissure of trust that Light had carved out of him. The intimacy which was anything but. The pain he'd experienced as that smooth voice disregarded him at every turn and, in the end, laughed softly into his ear. "Something which you do not remember," L said at last.

"So tell me."

"You don't believe you have more than one personality, so anything I tell you, you will dismiss." Tension was creeping into his voice. It was his agitation pushing through at Light's easy tone. 'So tell me'?? How could he begin to go about it? How would this story even sound to someone who disbelieved the basis of it, the existence of that other self? Would he accuse me of fabricating it all?

"Suspending disbelief for a moment," Light prompted, eyes gold and fixed upon him. "Did I wrong you somehow?"

L jumped slightly.

How had Light come so close to the truth, if he did not believe in his MPD? But then, a wrong was a logical conclusion whether he believed in the condition or not. He was inferring the truth. Had to be.

"Yes," L said quietly. Could he make himself elaborate, if asked? Could he sit here and tell this version of Light that another personality, while in control, had raped him? He didn't think so. He still had not gotten over the happening, present events had simply pushed it temporarily further from his mind.

"And if I no longer contain this other personality," Light's voice stretched out, smoothing the words and watching him with intent, "how will you reconcile this action against you?" He almost sounded as if he knew what had occurred; there was weight in his ambiguity.

"I... can't." That soiling, desperate blackness that had consumed him after Light had done that to him began to throb sickly in his chest. The turmoil at dealing with Light's silence afterward - to see both his guilt and the perverse desire in his eyes to do it all again. Those amber eyes glowed with the desire to rip him apart piece-by-piece and savor every attempt at resistance.

To L's surprise, lips brushed against his.

Enigmatic eyes surveyed him from inches away. They closed as Light's mouth enveloped his, sending tremors through L's body to keep the turmoil company. Slow, hot, sensual, the kiss slid between them, consuming the minutes. L tried to make sense of it as his body shuddered in reaction.

A hand wove its way into L's hair, pulling him down into a deeper, more excruciatingly erotic exploration of the brunette's mouth. It encouraged him to follow their descent onto the bed without question, to lose himself. He wanted so badly to comply, to sink into the warmth the other boy offered him.

But why now?

Why all of a sudden?

He pulled back just enough to speak. "Light, I don't understand." It was inordinately difficult to keep that small space between them.

Light's eyes were but a sliver of amber ringing deep, unending pools of black. His lids were partially lowered, shading his gaze with those long lashes of his. "I don't recall doing anything you didn't, in actuality, want at that time. If I had truly abused you, would we be here like this?"

L stiffened and tried to pull back. Light kept him close, watching him lazily.

"What do you remember?"

"That as much as you try, and as much as you take grievance with me, you can't stay away." Light rolled them over then, pinning L to the mattress beneath him.

Desire clenched at L's stomach, the weight of Light feeling all too right, all too needed. The brunette's mouth descended on his, and he could do nothing but kiss back desperately, reveling in the feel of urgency that roughed the movement of lips and tongues.

---

"And if I no longer contain this other personality, how will you reconcile this action against you?" Light asked.

"I... can't."

Light found the look that crossed L's face just then to be irresistible. The extreme vulnerability in his demeanor and the tormented look in his suddenly expressive eyes... He couldn't help but draw close, to drink in the quality of it and to feel L's surprise tremble against his lips.

He didn't even really think about it.

It seemed too natural to require such preparation, and it was all too easy to set aside his reservations at being close to someone who had taken a life. Somehow it didn't seem important in that moment. It paled infinitely and a thousand times over to the feel of L's mouth against his, to the feel of L beneath him.

It felt right.

L must have felt it, too, because his body shuddered in fine tremors of reaction and his mouth accepted the deeper penetration of its soft heat.

L put up paltry resistance at first, somehow not understanding the reason for this. Questioning him. It was a hindrance for but a moment. Rich memories flooded him as he tasted the dark-haired boy and breathed him in. L was prone to being elusive. But once I've caught him, he never truly fights me...

He craves this as I do...

He was only mildly surprised at himself for the intensity of feeling, amplified by the knowledge of how thoroughly he had known this body and marked it. Normally, he would have thought such things to be extreme, but the memories flooded him with surety and desire. L had been upset with him for taking things too far that time, but he hadn't. Not really. L was just being difficult. He needed this. It was obvious in the way he responded, and in the fact that he was allowing this at all.

His lips sought the tender hollow of L's throat, and he could feel the rapid pulse on his tongue. Soft, dark hair brushed his face, faintly smelling of shampoo. He was drowning inexorably into the heady scents that made L so unbearably delicious to him. Teeth, he couldn't help but press into firm flesh, his own pulse racing faster at the sharp intake of breath.

In his head, he could feel a slight pressure, like the slow beating of fragile wings, the thinning of some faintly perceived barrier. It grew more insistent the more he touched, the more he tasted, the warm ebb and flow of it echoing stillness as it expanded. The effect was both palliative and exhilarating, and he gave himself up to it.

His body moved without his direction, instinct affecting every whim before his mind gave it thought.

L's neck tasted of salt as a fine sheen of moisture adorned his heated skin.

Light sought out every inch of his body, the concavity just below his rib cage, the angled slant of his hipbones and the desperate flesh they pointed to, peeling back clothes as if they were layers of skin. He dug down to the vulnerability of the body beneath, releasing it from the protection it was shrouded in, baring long limbs and heaving breaths. Lean thighs invited his mouth to move upon them, tracing along their length as denim relinquished its place and duty. So pale. So vulnerable. L was like an empty canvas, waiting to bear his marks, trembling for his touch, shuddering as he obliged.

He used more reserve than he would have liked, some tiny nagging feeling in the back of his mind requiring it of him. L was not fragile, but... he did not wish to press the point and have those lovely dark eyes staring at him like burning coals. He wanted them as they were now, lidded and nearly vacant as desire filled them to the brim. The dark-haired boy's anger was something he did not wish to own, even at the cost of restraint.

It had been so unpleasant after their last time together; silence and distance had settled between them like a dust cloud from crumbling rubble. He'd ached with the need to get close, but was prevented doing so by the harsh betrayal in those eyes and his own reflected guilt at having caused it.

He could hold back. If only to prevent such a thing's repeat.

In time, perhaps, L would come to see how needless it was to resist the full force of his affection. He would come to desire it.

I'll just have to slowly bring him around, Light thought as his lips caressed the velvet heat of L's need. The wordless sounds of the other boy's pleasure echoed pleasingly in his ears, sharpening his own several times over. So helpless now, as he employed his tongue to flesh, gasping in a manner that implied begging.

Perfect.

He indulged L a little, wanting more of those delicious noises. He experienced a heady rush of power at having the great detective before him like this, hobbled and waiting as physical pleasure undermined the beautiful, seamless brilliance of his mind. It made him want to be a little cruel, a little heartless, if only so he could gather up and hold the pieces. A passing fancy, but he did dearly love the tormented look that could shine with such unabashed clarity within the sooty darkness of those eyes.

He surveyed the slim body laid out before him and the desire to possess it was overwhelming.

There was nothing within reach to aid him in that goal, nothing to be used as lubrication, especially as this was a different room from the one they'd shared for so long, but being denied was not an acceptable outcome.

Saliva was the only alternative. He could attend to that himself... however, L's mouth would provide a much more striking alternative...

He traveled back up to the graceful curve of L's ear, whispered into it with heated words. L shook his head once, but Light could feel that his body was attuned to the suggestion. Light stroked the hard flesh of L's arousal, repeating himself more forcefully, enjoying the shudder that L offered him and the flush that suffused his cheeks. Desire would win out over modesty. Wasn't that always the way of it? And how thrilling it would be to have the great L on his knees, not just mentally, but physically as well? His body quickened at the thought.

Light rose and knelt, thinking L looked preciously anxious and wary as he finally moved close. He could have remained reclining, but he wanted it like this. Just like this. Forcing L further out of his comfort zone, watching him come around and try to move past it. Just as Light could have supplied his own saliva for the necessary lubrication, he declined it in favor of this. L's knitted brows, the difficulty he had with this arrangement, the tentative way he parted his lips to take the tip of Light into his hesitant mouth.

The heat of that mouth was unbelievable.

He pushed forward the barest bit, sliding deeper into the silken wetness and a groan was pulled from him as if on strings. "L," he moaned the name as his partner allowed him further liberty, cradling him on his hot, flexing tongue. His fingers sought the soft, spiky mess of L's dark hair and interred themselves there, tremoring slightly as his body was overcome by sensation.

He'd never imagined it would feel quite like this. Never imagined that L's averted eyes and blazing cheeks would burn in his blood even more than this subversive position or the way he'd pictured those dark eyes would look when he'd first entertained the thought.

"That's enough," he said in a faint, strangled voice as he slid further into the warm, deconstructive embrace of that mouth. Moments more and his control would flicker and fade out. Even now, the desire to end things just like this was becoming overwhelmingly strong.

He bent down, brushing L's cheek with possessive fingertips, then kissed him hard and deep, showing him just how incredibly desirable he was and tasting the trace of himself on those lips.

His fingers crept between them, claiming L's mouth without contest; the sucking pressure of it upon his digits was reminiscent enough of other things to draw a longing shudder from his body.

Necessity taken care of, he pulled the slick digits from L's exquisite mouth and kissed him again, languishing in the feel of shared desire.

You're so beautiful to me, he thought, parting the other boy's thighs and moving between them.

L's wince at the intrusion of his fingers caused him to break the kiss. Light nuzzled at his neck, excitement fizzling through him at the small discomfort etched upon his face. He didn't want to rush, wanted to allow enough time for this preparation, but his body was too ready, too insistent. He ached to bury himself inside of L, to feel the other boy struggling to keep up with his pace, to hear the broken moans that were so sweet to his ears.

Two fingers. Three. The waiting was killing him, the steady pace of penetration, L's harsh breaths... He curved his fingers and stroked a place within L that made him gasp and arch his back.

L's lower lip found a home between his teeth as he withdrew his fingers and positioned himself. He toyed with the tender flesh as he pushed forward, distracting the other boy as he slid within the maddening, constricting walls of his body. L panted heavily, but did not cry out, even with his hastened entry.

This changed as he pulled back and thrust more deeply into that devastating warmth.

His name was on L's lips. Husky, hoarse, passionate. Everything he wanted and needed to hear as he repeated the motion, driving into L's pale, slender body until he was sure one of them might break.

Too rough? Perhaps, but L's nails in his back scattered his control, the burning trails they marked upon his skin feeding into the pressure mounting inside of him and accentuating the intoxicating moans drifting into his ears.

L's hands seized upon his back, digging in, digging as he cried out and his body began to shudder against Light's. Perfect, Light thought again. The undulating muscles he was cradled within clamped and constricted around him, sucking away the last of his control and offering him release.

---

TBC

A/N: Oh my, it seems as if Light recalls his slightly sadistic pr0n tendencies, and that they override his goody-two shoes mentality!

...Sorry to cut it off where i did, but this chapter was already getting too long. :x

About Light's memories: Some of you have expressed massive confusion and a desperate desire to know exactly what Light remembers and how his brain interprets past events sans Kira. WELL. You are just going to have to wait for it. All will be revealed eventually. In the mean time, have fun speculating. (!!!)

---

To Passing Reader - thank you :) please tell your sister, thank you as well, and i am very pleased she also enjoys the KH2 fic so much. ;D (It was my first true fanfic endeavor.) Btw, you wouldn't need to play more than an hour into the game - all i had seen was the first few cut scenes before i started writing it. (Parallels in character development were a coincidence - I made some good guesses apparently! haha)