Author's Note: I suppose I have to be honest with you: I'm having a serious writer's block and it's on the verge of escalating into a full-blown hiatus, even with all the pages I had written down regarding the story. Wish me luck and enjoy another addition to the actual storyline.

Disclaimer: The characters, settings, and back story are copyrighted by Square-Enix and Disney. The storyline and original characters are mine.


A Walk In Andante

27 – Whispers in the Night

Three in the morning. Three chimes. Fuu sighed, then put away the book she was reading. She's done it again. She's got herself so caught up in that book on martial arts that she's way overdue for sleep.

"Again…" she mumbled as she closed the book and placed it quietly on her desk. Then she reached over and switched off the lamp that had been previously bent over the book like she was, shining brightly on each page as she read and turned them.

But seconds later, Fuu turned the light back on. She turned to her drawer, briefly contemplated it, then opened the very bottom drawer, the one that was crammed with 'stuff'. She called it 'stuff', even wrote out in marker on it 'Stuff'. It was filled with random newspaper clippings, torn notebook pages, pieces of seashells from the beach, and other little trinkets. There were even a few seeds from a pomegranate. She was sure that's what the fruit was.

She reached in and pulled out a hefty pile of newspaper clippings. Most of them involved Setzer, who was the perennial champion of Struggle Tournaments. Once in a while she'd find a mention of Seifer or Rai or Vivi. Once in while she'll find something about herself. And then once in a while she'll find a mention of other people, names sometimes familiar and sometimes foreign. Sometimes she'd find Hayner. Sometimes she'd find some kid named Sakusen. Sometimes a young man named Gregory. Sometimes a middle-aged man by the name of Norman. That one shopkeeper. Her teacher. Some girl younger than her. Really random people, from the plausible to the ridiculous.

Except for that one clipping, that one tiny clipping with an even tinier photograph. This was a special clipping. Fuu kept it flat and neat and mostly clear of other newspaper clippings. She even put white paper before it and after it, to keep all other things from disturbing it.

She was quite embarrassed, actually, that she should have this little clipping and that she not only hid it from others' eyes, she protected it. The thing was she didn't know how she got this clipping. She went to bed one day and the next day she went straight to the drawer of 'stuff', where she found it placed on top of all her other clippings and trinkets. She wasn't sure how she could have forgotten about finding this newspaper clipping but it didn't matter; she had it.

Fuu sighed and looked at the clipping, at the tiny photo. She read the tiny title, skimmed through the tiny article, then smiled slightly. She put the clipping back in, with its white paper wrapping, amongst the other clippings, and carefully maneuvered the whole pile back into her drawer of 'stuff'. Then she pushed it close, switched off the lamp light and went to bed.


The sky was clouding. The dim twilight was fast giving way to storm clouds. Few people were aware of the coming rain; they remained fast asleep where they may be, be it in an apartment in the residential area, the bench at the shopping district, on the steps leading up to the train station, or in the alley under the cover of a half-rotten cardboard box.

The air was stirring. It was growing colder.

There was no life out in the streets, no one to greet the unusual development in weather. They were all wrapped up in their dreams, in the warmth of their beds, in the arms of another person. King Mickey, who was hiding out in an alley in the shopping district, was fast asleep with Pluto by his side.

And from the shadows of high buildings stepped forward someone shrouded in a cloak, a cloak made of such material that the edges blended into the night. The figure was hard to make out, hard to define, and in this darkness, in the shadows, the person was nigh invisible.

The hooded head turned right and left, then nodded once. From one end of the street came a tall slender being in a long coat and a wide-brimmed hat. With each rapid step came the precise click of the thin heel.

From the other end came someone in a long coat and a high collar. Hands in pockets, the broad-shouldered person approached, each step muffled by the soles of the shoes. Every now and then, though, the buckles across the person's chest rattled.

They converged at the place the cloaked person was standing.

"It is yet there. It has been touched by no one but her."

"The magic will work as long as we leave it there. Once we remove it, the magic will die. They will all disappear."

"We can't guarantee that they will come back. However, we must continue with the plans. The time is nearing."

"So much power…does anybody know?"

"The wizard may but he knows not to speak of such matters. They are dangerous and could upset what other people have so carefully constructed over the last several years."

"Pity they weren't able to stop the holocaust when it came."

"That's why we're here. We must set things right, or else it will be all for nothing."

"No, it won't be. We will get things right. Everything is in place. We simply need to push the right buttons, then step back. And when the time is right, we'll step in again. It will be flawless. The holocaust will never come."

"Because it will be us who will let loose the holocaust."


"Return to your stations. The time is near. Good luck."

Abruptly the three people vanished. They didn't fade into thin air; they just disappeared. They were never there.

King Mickey slowly pushed the flattened cardboard box off of Pluto and him and peeked out of the shadows of the garbage cans he was hiding behind with the dog. Nobody was there. King Mickey looked at Pluto and nodded.

While Pluto scampered ahead, his mouth firmly clamped on a white envelope, King Mickey stepped out of the shadows of the alley, then onto the street. He looked around, found no traces of the three mysterious people.

Who are they? What do they…what were they talking about? What holocaust?


Author's Endnote: It turns out I had more material before an abrupt change in the story, but I was unhappy with the order of chapters anyways so we'll see.

Comments, questions, compliments, etc. accepted. Flamers flame at your own risk. You have been warned.

Just wondering but if I were to write something involving Eyes On Me, would you approve of it?

Arigatou goziamas'!