1. Chapter 1 (1/2)

disclaimer: kingdom hearts and characters belong to squarenix, disney and etc.; this fic belongs to its' author(s).

notes: while michi-darling has written kh stuff before, this is my first kh fic. (i do have another one i'm working on, too, though.) life after death has been in the works for literally years at this point, but now i'm determined to bloody well get it out there and finished, as three years working on it with nothing posted is ridiculous. :p lol.

life after deathprologue: alive insideby senashenta (with michiko kale)

at one time the house had been nice—middle class and comfortable, housing a happy family, or maybe an elderly couple. now it was ramshackle and rough around the edges, windows boarded over, dark and shadowy inside. the front door was scratched, scraped and dented and painted red under all the damage. the rusty number 27 was screwed into the wood above the peephole—and the writing was scrawled underneath that, half hazard and clearly scribbled in haste, sprayed on with paint:

help. three alive inside.

roxas had seen messages like that before, on more houses, roofs and doors than he could count or cared to remember. that wasn't to say that he didn't investigate when he came upon them, but he certainly didn't get his hopes up anymore. he had, in the beginning—always held out hope that he might find other people, other survivors—maybe even his friends again, the ones that he had been separated from so long ago.

but after so many times hoping and being disappointed, he had simply given up. now he checked, looked just in case, but never let himself expect anything beyond empty houses, maybe safe and maybe not, occasionally with a bit of food somewhere in one of the cupboards.

now he regarded the spray-painted message with an already-heavy heart and finally sighed. shifting, he hiked his backpack up on his shoulders absently, then passed the baseball bat he was holding from his left hand to his right before reaching out to try the doorknob.

it was predictably locked—a good thing, really, in his experience. open doors meant anyone—and anything—could have gotten inside in the time it had been unlocked. even doors that were locked could be deceiving, in particular when they weren't boarded over or blocked off in any way.

these were just some of the many things he had learned over his time wandering the wastes alone.

with another quick glance around to check his surroundings and when the coast proved to still be clear, he propped the bat against the door and shrugged his backpack off, yanking the zipper open and quickly digging out a screwdriver—checked to see which one is was—then dropped it back in and pulled out a different one, followed by a hammer.

after that it was a simple matter of jamming the flat head of the screwdriver into the space between the door and the frame, then giving it a few good taps with the hammer until the lock, already worn and half-rusted out, finally just gave up the good fight and let go. roxas made a soft self-satisfied sound and returned the tools to the bag, then slung that back up onto his shoulders again.

cracking locks and

eaking-and-entering skills were something else he had taught himself over the last few months. he had gone through very hard times during his learning curve, unable to get into buildings for supplies or shelter or safety, and his body now bore the scars from that, the darkest time in his wanderings, cuts and scrapes and a lean but strong half-starved physique.

now, with the lock dealt with, he grabbed his bat once more, chanced yet another quick look around to make sure he was still in the clear, then nudged the door open and slipped inside. closing the door quietly behind himself, he turned quickly to put his back to the wall and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the gloom beyond.

the living room was in disarray, but he was used to that. everything was in chaotic disarray anymore, inside and outside, everywhere he went. at least in the house he was safer—theoretically, anyway. first he had to clear the house and make sure it was as empty as it initially seemed—only then could he begin to relax, even a little.

so when nothing launched out of the darkness to snap at his throat, roxas took a deep

eath, adjusting his grip on the baseball bat, and steeled himself for the worst before pushing away from the door and moving farther into the house.