readers,

Sorry for being predictable me. I lost it quarter-way through the story again and screwed up Reckless. You must be used to it by now. Nothing has been great since tumbling. I don't know where the writing enthusiasm came from, but I'm trying to acquire it now.

This is the new and improved version. I'm crossing it over with tumbling and making sure I'm completely happy with a chapter before uploading it. I miss being thirteen. Writing fanfiction was so much easier then.

kacey.

disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts and all mentioned artists belong to their respected owners. I'm a typical, broke teenager. Don't expect too much from me. Major ideas taken from Dash & Lily's Book of Dares.

warning: swearing, slash. Don't read on if you've got a delicate stomach, alright princess?

enjoi.

dear blackcat

To put everything simply, her life was accurately represented by a flipped turtle.

It felt like there was no way for her to get out of this headache-inducing, moan-worthy rut. Not only was she walking around like the very personification of thee-who-had-murdered-a-leprechaun, cursed with a black cloud of bad luck, but she certainly looked and acted like the part as well. Could you understand her natural views of the world as a pessimist?

Let's add a little more clarity to the situation, shall we?

Her name is Naminé D'Ambroise.

Now, that isn't enough to completely drown you with information, now is it?

Naminé, bless the poor dear, is the very definition of pushover-nerd. Life was not very fair to this little darling, and had instead decided to kick her in the teeth and push her into a vat of tar. Dorky, geeky little Naminé couldn't defend herself to save her life, was constantly teased and bullied by certain members of her privileged school, and she didn't know what to do to get herself out of this predicament.

But enough of that, let's get to know her a little more first.

xox

She swooped into her home a bag of gangly limbs dragging along a worn sienna bag filled to the brim with music manuscripts and skilfully drawn sketches. It took most of the effort in her tiny body to shut the door as she did on a daily basis. Her brother greeted her in the kitchen with an affectionate hair-ruining noogie. It tossed about her thin wisps of platinum blond hair, but she didn't fix it when he stopped, just pushed it out of her thick-rimmed glasses.

"Hi Cloud."

"Hey, Nam. How was school today?"

"No one stole my glasses."

"Good for you."

She opened her satchel and smirked at her older brother as she got out her school diary, differentiating between her homework tasks, "Are you gonna see Leon today?"

Cloud flushed and leaned forward to flick her forehead, "That's none of your business. Get to homework, squirt."

She closed her satchel and lugged it upstairs, almost tripping on the length of her skirt as she ascended. Naminé scurried into her room, closing the door behind her with a wayward kick. Hers was more intricately decorated than most fifteen year olds. She threw the bag on her bed and pulled out her sketches. Little did Cloud know that she'd tackled most of her homework at school and was bringing up the subject of Leon, Cloud's love interest, to distract him from that very fact. All she needed to do now was practice her singing and violin.

Her room was a safe haven in slanted, attic walls and warm brown beams, a large inviting window seat with three different panes and cushions of differing but beautiful nature. Her bed was tucked into a corner opposite her study desk/art table covered in gypsy sheets, hugging her bedside desk cascading with books. Hanging over her desk and bed, over her vanity and along her closet were different framed images of artworks and posters; bands, sketches, paintings- not all hers, poetry and photographs.

Before she could get to work on her music practice, she caught her reflection in the mirror. There was nothing particularly mind-blowing about Naminé, and she thought that in itself was depressing. She couldn't even be considered average pretty. Her skin was riddled with acne, and contorted with baby fat. Her glasses blocked people off from her best asset; her deep cerulean eyes. Her hair was limp and so white it stood out against skin that flushed far too easily. She was so skinny, she was practically a skeleton and she supposed it was this aspect of her that scared off boys- that made her fragile.

Her dad might have been rich, and she might have been talented, but she was sick of being ugly.

xox

Gathering up another bag, this time striped green and brown using velvetine fabric, she walked through the garage, picking up her Element skateboard and taking to the streets. She was dressed in a loose flannel, a white top, a pair of jean shorts that ended at her knees and too-big-for-her Globe sneakers. She swerved left and right carelessly as she fiddled with her iPod, The Pretty Reckless blasting in her ears as she glided towards her destination.

She past high houses decorated with white picket fences wondering how she could ever belong in a suburb like Sunset Terrace with a skateboard and provocative rock music trailing behind her. Sunset Terrace was a place where if you had a 'troubled' (read: gay) son like Cloud, or a 'worrisome' (read: hipster) daughter like Naminé, you ended up being the talk of the town. Let's just say that skating along dressed like a hobo wasn't the best thing for her reputation.

Eventually she got the border between the Back Alley, skidding to a stop in front of a store called The Usual Spot. It was a hybrid mixture between a bookstore and a music shop café Naminé frequented all the time and went to in order to simply get away from the world. According to Demyx, the college student who was there for most of the shifts, she was one of the only kids from Radiant Garden that actually went there.

"Hey Nam."

"Hi Demyx," she offered a wave before heading to the book section.

She loved the smell of the yellowing pages, breathing in the scent of words. She glided her hands across the spines when she realised something, among the picture books lie a thin spiral notebook. Curiouser and curiouser, Naminé thought as she pulled the notebook out of its placement, her movements gentle, should the book scream if being handled too roughly. It was so perfectly normal, save for the Sharpie-filled chequered boxes decorating the black and white cover.

She opened it and found -two pages from the first- some instructions:

To you, who's lucky enough to discover this notebook hidden so precariously among the books of The Usual Spot, I challenge thee.

1) The Game of Triumphs. Never just a book by its cover I guess.

2) 33/4/56 & 45/4/56.

3) _ _

4) Fill in the blanks.

blackcat.

Well this was certainly an odd little challenge, especially to leave in a secluded place like The Usual Spot. Feeling up to the challenge, Naminé started looking for the section of the books dating back to 1956. It wasn't working for her. She couldn't see anything, so she came to Demyx and asked, "Dem? Can you look up the date of a book called The Game of Triumphs?"

"2009!" he answered immediately, making Naminé raise an eyebrow.

"You know about blackcat's game, don't you?" she smirked.

The mulleted clerk mimed zipping up his lips and turned back to the music magazine he was reading. Fascinated, Naminé went back to the clues in the chequered notebook.

Never judge a book by its cover.

She came back to where she'd found the notebook, noting how the first thing she thought of when she read The Game of Triumphs had been The Game of Thrones. Her eyes landed on a bright pink book with sparkly glitter all over it and she promptly started looking for the code chapter/page/word.

The words she came up with using the logic was 'imagine' and 'began', words that didn't fit together in the slightest.

She then tried the combination page/paragraph/word, which heralded more successful results: the words 'are' and 'you'. Upon reaching the page with the word 'you' written on it, another scrap paper fell out of the book. Naminé bent down to pick it up.

Congratulations. You managed to figure it out. Here's the next part of the sentence.

1) Give me a fairy tale meant for a prince instead of a princess.

2) 3/4/8 & 4/9/4.

3) You know what to do.

blackcat.

This time, Naminé did have more idea where she was going. She went to the picture books meant for children and instantly picked up Aladdin.

A story meant for a prince instead of a princess.

She flicked it to the first page: 'intrigued' and then the second one, 'yet'.

The message was 'Are you intrigued yet?' She wrote this down in the chequered notebook.

She flipped through the book and another piece of paper fell out:

If you've managed to come this far, you definitely are persistent indeed. Go to Demyx and tell him what your answer is.

blackcat.

She waltzed over to Demyx clutching the book to her chest. As soon as he saw her, a large smile lit up his features, stretching to his beautiful aquamarine eyes.

"Yes, Demyx, I am very intrigued."

The clerk reached for the book in her hand and flipped it to the middle where an off-white envelope was taped to the pages. He gave her a letter opener he was hiding behind the desk and said 'Good luck'.

She opened the envelope and realised that the message had been written on the envelope instead of on a piece of paper inside it. She pulled it apart using the knife in her hands and read the words inside, written in a quick, angular script she was coming to adore.

I write to you today, dear reader, to find a Cinderella, if you could believe it. But even if you're a 'Mr' Cinders, don't let that deter you either. I'm not exactly prince charming. I'm not rich, and I'm hardly charming, but you might be the one for me. If you're interested leave some contact details with Demyx and I'll get back to you.

Sincerely,

blackcat.

xox

She wrote down her last instructions and refolded the envelope and giving it to Demyx.

"Aren't you going to leave any contact details for R -I mean- blackcat?"

Naminé grinned gleefully at Demyx's slip up, "So his name starts with R?"

"You didn't hear it from me!"

Naminé pressed a finger to her lips, the corner of her pink lips lifting in a grin as she placed the notebook in her bag and whisked out of The Usual Spot, her smile never leaving her face as she returned home, images of her blackcat -starting with R- drifting through her mind.

Ronald, Regis, Rupert, Rafael, Rocky, Ryan…

tbc.