Sora makes a private oath to himself as the power in the gummi ship blazes bright as a star and then blinks out and the smell of gas burns his nose before the popping and tidal wave roar of the explosion begins:
He is not going to tell Riku and Kairi about any of this.
He has bragged about his skill as a pilot one too many times and in the dark before his consciousness fades, he can already see their familiar grins of exasperation.
The world he, Donald, and Goofy had been flying toward is a patchwork quilt of ecosystems that remind Sora of the other worlds he’s traveled to: deserts, oceans, forests, teeming with the unknown.
Sora had been aiming for a meadow.
Before he had turned to respond to a jab from Donald about texting and piloting.
Before the asteroid.
The land next to the meadow at first glance seems a barren rock face, but upon closer inspection, lurching toward its orbit, the rock glows with a flickering electricity, magic, Sora realizes, that seems to be wielded by red and white, soccer-ball-sized. . . “Heartless…” he whispers as they plummet.
Donald squawks, Goofy grips the neck of Sora’s chair, and then down they go.
* * *
A cloud of dust escapes Sora’s mouth on exhale and he coughs as he fights to open his eyes.
“Huh,” he ponders, unlatching his seat belt and stretching, “could be worse, I guess, right guys?”
From what he can see from the inside, the gummi ship seems to be in one piece at least.
“Guys?”
No one responds, and he glances around to find the co*ckpit missing one dynamic wizard and knight duo.
“Uh-oh.”
Rising has Sora’s vision blurring, and he opens his palm to summon his keyblade. Nothing happens. The cool finger of panic crawls down his spine. Gingerly, he picks himself up out of the chair and makes his way out of the spaceship, shielding his eyes from the sudden sunlight. His fingerless gloves have changed color, and he can feel a cap on his head and sees that beneath the dust, his jacket is a different style. He’s eager to see how his friends look.
“Donald? Goofy?”
He circles the crater the ship has made in the stone and dirt. Beyond the debris he sees the blinding light came not from the sun, but from the Heartless now circling his ship. Amidst the buzz of electricity, he can hear them speaking , and it sounds like, Volt orb ?
Sora rolls his shoulders and again attempts to summon the keyblade.
Nothing.
Just an empty, shaking hand.
He huffs and steps back as the orbs begin to hop and roll closer, and then he’s stumbling over the rubble, arms windmilling, a small downed tree scraping his leg. There’s grass beneath it, and Sora realizes wryly that he’s landed on the border of the meadow.
He just needs to get a little further backward, then, he reasons, away from these Heartless—and he can feel that they’re Heartless, possessed, purple and black wisps of shadow wrapping their round bodies despite the lightning shocks that crackle around them like rings of a planet.
Miraculously, they pause a few meters off and begin to circle around a wriggling patch of rubble. Just as Sora is about to embrace this stroke of good luck and sprint off, the rubble gives a fearful squeak. Sora glances to the crushed tree and thinks of a story Xion had once told him.
Roxas, that’s a stick.
Sora pries and lunges. “Take this!”
With one successful whack, the Voltorb ricochet backward as if struck with a pool cue, and Sora wastes little time in recovering the trapped creature.
“You must have a big heart, huh, little guy?” Sora murmurs as he lifts and gently brushes it.
The round creature reminds him of Meow Wow—if Meow Wow were a fluffy brown beaver, with buck teeth, adoring eyes, and a little cherry red nose.
“Buh!” the creature squeaks and wriggles into Sora’s chest, turning to eye the encroaching Voltorb.
Sora glances down to his stick and realizes it’s broken. He decides now is the time for a hasty retreat and doubles back into the spaceship, pulling the door shut behind him.
After a few uncertain minutes, Sora slumps to the floor in relief as the clanging of the Voltorbs knocking against the side of the ship subsides.
Sora frowns down at the cute but strange animal in his arms. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any ideas how to get us out of this, do ya, little guy?”
The creature gives an energetic wiggle and almost seems to nod, and Sora can’t help but laugh.
“I’m Sora, by the way.” He hums thoughtfully. “I wonder what I should call you?”
“Buh, buh, buh-doof!” the creature exclaims with another excited wiggle, hopping back up into Sora’s arms.
Sora laughs harder and shakes his head. “Bidoof?”
It butts its furry head against Sora’s cheek. “Buh-doof!”
“Okay, okay,” he giggles, “Bidoof it is. Hey, what are you…”
Bidoof wriggles free of Sora’s arms and squirms around, nose digging into Sora’s belt. Slung around his hips is a belt studded with three small balls that remind him of the Voltorb outside.
“Huh?” Sora muses. “What are…?”
Bidoof begins pawing at one intently until it drops off.
“Whoa, careful!”
The ball clinks to the ground, rolling. Light shines from the seam and then burns brighter, cracking open to reveal a floating bronze sword with a blue feather plume bursting from its hilt and one electric blue eye blinking at Sora, reminding him unnervingly of one of Riku’s old blades. Sora can feel instinctively that it’s his own keyblade, can still feel his connection to it.
“ Honedge ,” the keyblade declares, low, solemn.
Bidoof yips and dances below it.
“Whoa!” Sora finds himself jumping to his feet as well. “Do they all…?”
“Bidoof!” Bidoof yips and nods, scampering up Sora’s leg and onto his shoulder.
Sora tosses up the other two; they crack open midair. On the left appears a small white duck with a blue beret and on the right a sleek black dog with long white horns and bony crests.
“Quaxly!” Donald says tersely, strutting forward and glaring at Sora as if still chastising him for the crash.
“Hound, hound, hound-doooom!” Goofy howls still sounding very much himself, pointed tail wagging as he paws closer.
“Donald! Goofy!” Sora kneels down to hug his friends. “Look at you!”
Bidoof nuzzles against Sora’s shoulder and Goofy’s neck.
“I don’t think I can do this without you. All of you.” He scratches Bidoof’s head and then nods to the keyblade which hums pleasantly. “Who’s ready to take on some Heartless?”
Bidoof straightens on Sora’s shoulder and growls softly.
“You sure? We understand if you want to sit this one out, little buddy.”
“Buh!” Bidoof stamps a paw against his shoulder and nods.
Sora nods back. “Alright then, let’s do this!”
* * *
Ash rises as Sora and his friends push out of the ship. Swiftly, the keyblade, Donald, and Goofy charge the Voltorb, and Sora feels a touch helpless, unarmed. Donald blasts the nearest Heartless with jets of water and Goofy repels their darkness with his own.
Before Sora knows it, spurred on by nudges from Bidoof, he’s shouting to his friends, inventing names for moves, “ Dodge! Incinerate! Wing Attack! Swords Dance! ”
Still, it isn’t long before the Voltorb begin to swarm Sora. He back pedals, but Bidoof leaps in front of him, grabbing half of the stick Sora had abandoned earlier in its teeth and batting the closest Voltorb aside.
Sora gasps and cheers.
The keyblade swoops in after, circling in a protective shield around the wielder and his new friend until Donald and Goofy clear a path through the Heartless. Sora scoops up Bidoof and follows them around the gummi ship and into the meadow beyond and the sweet, beckoning smell of clover.
Freed of Heartless, the Voltorb do not follow.
Donald and Goofy collapse in the grass for a rest, and the keyblade returns to its ball. Sora lifts Bidoof high in the air and spins around, laughing breathlessly.
He pauses when he hears laughter behind him. An elderly woman with hair more orange than Axel’s and a white bird with blue and red plumes soaring behind her observes him. She stands beside a bike with a basket of wildflowers hanging from the handlebars.
“You have a deep bond with your Pokémon,” she says, wrinkles at the corners of her grin. “You remind me of someone.”
“Pokémon?” Sora steps closer, lowering Bidoof onto his shoulder, and giggling as it brushes against Sora’s cheek. “Is that what these are called?”
She laughs again. “You must be a new trainer, hm?”
“How did you guess?”
“Back in my day, I traveled everywhere. A lot of people will tell you that you can’t get very far with little guys like these.” She nods to Bidoof and Donald, who puffs out his feathers indignantly. “And…well…” she pauses, gazing thoughtfully at his third friend, “that’s the goofiest looking Houndoom I’ve ever seen…”
Goofy attempts to roll over and look more impressive, but gets his new horns caught in the dirt.
“They’ll tell you bigger is better when it comes to Pokémon training.” Togekiss lands on her shoulder and she gently pats him. “If you want to win.”
Sora folds his arms behind his head, nonplussed. “We may not look tough, but together we can take on anything. I bet you we could be the very best Pokémon trainers! Like no one ever was!”
He figures he has a while before his friends find him with another gummi ship. That should be plenty of time.
“Well,” she seems unable to hold back a smile, “maybe you can. But you’re not going to get very far like that. Let me help you get started.”
She sifts through the backpack on her shoulder and gives Sora potions, Poké balls, and a rock she calls an everstone . When everything is in Sora’s pack, she tucks one of her flowers behind Bidoof’s ear, and steps back.
“I don’t know how to thank you.” All Sora can think to offer is the biggest grin of gratitude he can.
“Take care of your Pokémon,” she says, “and take care of my bike.”
“Oh,” Sora argues, “I can’t possibly take your…”
But she’s laughing again and walking off without it, and she’s pretty speedy for a woman as old as Kairi’s grandma.
“What do you say?” Sora asks Bidoof as it hops into the basket of the bike and puts its paws on the front as if that will make it go. “Ready for an adventure?”
