When Darkness Turns to Light

Lady Luck

So, beginning with this chapter, I'm making a small change for the way I write. Dreams and memories will be written in first person, like they're narrating it-at times, it may even be thought narrating a little. Similar to how manga is narrated at times. It won't be hard to catch on, just thought I'd let y'all know beforehand :)

[{X♥X}]

Recappy From the Last Chappy: A flash of white appeared between the scarlet cusps of her face. Her eyes were naturally sinister. "Very well. Do as you please." Her robes shuffled as she approached him. "It is your room, after all."

When she came to the side of his bed, she reached with the hand not holding her scepter to hold his chin up with her crimson-painted nails. "Are you ready to become a member of our team?"

". . . ." Coolly Riku smacked her hand away. "I have no idea what you guys are up to. But I guess I'll just have to find out."

Chapter Twenty: Lady Luck

I remember Squall very well. We were close. You . . . could've said it was like we were the same person.

But now, I will only speak of him in the past tense.

He was in the later years of adolescence and stood stricken with open-mouthed awe on a ledge overlooking the epicenter of destruction to a world once peaceful. Some sort of stygian entity was parasitically feeding off of our home, snuffing out the light and replacing it with darkness.

Helplessly he watched as strange creatures ran rampant. Most of them had black faces and luminous yellow orbs for eyes. The boy's own blues widened as he watched those same creatures attack people without mercy. They would appear to reach inside a person's chest, call on some dark power, and tear out a shining, pink, heart-shaped thing that rose toward the sky. Then, the person's body would disappear.

Wind from the storm disturbed his brunette locks, causing them to flit across the bridge of his nose. The sword he held in his hand had a hilt resembling a gun that hung at his side. His grip on the Gunblade tightened as he clenched his teeth. There were so many of those things-that we know as Heartless now-yet his friends were nowhere in sight.

Thunder boomed overhead to be followed by a heavy precipitation that soaked him to the bone within seconds.

A young woman around his age ran up the mountainous, uneven incline; her boots slipped a few times on the rain-slicked rock. She was breathing heavily. In the lack of light, her long, midnight blue locks appeared to be black as they stuck to spaghetti strap-clad shoulders, dampened.

Silver eyes caught sight of the boy as she was ignored by the creatures she passed. She gathered her breath and called his name, but it was drowned out by a crash of thunder. Louder, she called again. "Squall!"

He turned as she reached the peak and ran toward him; he stepped forward to meet her halfway. A deeply felt, affectionate concern shined in his eyes. "Calantha. . . ."

Her arms wrapped around him tightly as she buried her face in his shoulder. She was shivering, perhaps because she was cold or she was shaking with silent sobs-he could not tell. Squall held Calantha as she held him: firmly, as they desperately grasped for a sense of something real in such an incredulous situation, though he used only the arm free of his weapon.

He rested his cheek in the crook of her neck as he held her closer, gently brushing his lips against her bare skin unintentionally. In the situation at hand, he could not feel embarrassed by the intimacy of the contact. The apprehension he felt in his gut, though it had slightly subsided with her presence, was far too great. Silently he gazed at the space behind her with hard, narrowed eyes.