Kingdom Hearts II: Vol. 1 Roxas—Seven Days

Written by: Kanemaki Tomoco
Original Plan: Nomura Tetsuya and Nojima Kazushige
Illustration: Amano Shiro
Copyrighted by Disney, Square Enix and Touchstone Pictures
Translations: gold_panner

Notes –Translations made much easier by the use of those by ruthyuki999, which can be read here. I don’t make any money from this, so don’t sue me. I have made a lot of lovely friends, though~ ♥ With many many thanks to hcb_chibi, forever and ever. Do not repost these translations without crediting me, or HEARTSTATION.


The place was Hollow Bastion. Outside the door, the princesses should have been there awaiting the return of Sora and his companions, who had sealed the keyholes. But – emerging from the door, the place Sora and the others had wandered into was strange and hazy.

“Huh…?” Donald tilted his head.

“Where is this place…” Sora muttered, looking around.

That moment, Sora’s body was hit by a strange feeling.

“Oh, it seems you’re special, too.”

“Who’s there?!” Sora turned around at the sudden voice from behind. At the end of Sora’s gaze, one man was standing. The man was wrapped in a black robe, and was steadily looking down at Sora from inside a hood.

“Ansem—?” Goofy said questioningly, readying his shield behind Sora. The man’s voice certainly sounded like Ansem. However, as the hood covered his face, it was not possible to identify if the man was in fact Ansem. Tense, Sora and his companions glared at the man.

“That familiar sound—” The man muttered slowly, as if to himself. And then, he continued.

“You look like him.”

“What do you mean?!” Sora yelled back, keyblade still raised, not having a clue who the ‘he’ the man was speaking of was.

“It means, you aren’t complete. An incomplete being—I want you to let me verify that power.” The man approached Sora, seeming to glide over the ground, spitting huge light from his hand. Sora was repelled by the light, and was flung to the ground.


Goofy, running to try and help Sora, was sent flying back by two blades which had flown out from the man’s robe.

“Firaga! Thundaga! Blizzaga!”

Donald fired magic at the man, but they all dissipated before his robe.

“—Very interesting. Now, it will become enjoyable.”

“What are you saying…!” Sora yelled, rising to his feet.

“It is impossible for you to comprehend, at present. Perhaps, someday, the time for us to meet again will come,” the man told Sora quietly, his blades vanishing.

“Who are you!”

“I am—merely an empty shell,” came the answer to Sora’s question, and the man vanished just like smoke.

It was a voice that Sora, struck dumb, still holding his keyblade up, could remember hearing before.

“Good job, Sora.”

Turning around, standing in front of Sora was Leon.

“Have you come back…?”

“What’s wrong, Sora?” Leon asked Sora, who tilted his head.


Sora smiled, and walked on—to the final battle, the battle against Ansem.


When he came to, he was standing there. This place is like the end of the world—he felt. Decayed looking rocks jutted out along the dark beach.

That reminds me, haven’t I sat in a place like this somewhere, talking of the future?

Blue sea—blue sky.

He slowly shook his head at the scene which had spontaneously risen in his heart. Because, it shouldn’t have.

Then, he finally ran his eyes over his own body. He didn’t remember the black clothing—no, a coat, to be exact—that was wrapped around his own body. Even though it was the first time he had seen himself, it wasn’t strange or out of place.

It has naturally occurred to him, as he slowly moved his head to view the scenery. Then, he moved his vision over his body. He did not remember the black clothing – no, more accurately, coat – that was covering his body. However,

“I was waiting.”

He turned around at the sound of the voice. Standing there is a man, dressed in the same way as me. Because of that hood, completely hiding his, I don’t really know what his expression is like. Which means, he shouldn’t be able to see my expression either.

“I went to see ‘him’.”


He went to ask, but, feeling like he knew vaguely who the ‘him’ the man had spoken of was, he held his tongue.

“’He’ looks a lot like you.”

Yeah—I guess I probably do look a lot like ‘him’.

‘He’ and I are like the face and reverse of a coin—.

“And you are?” he asked the man in front of him.

“The empty shell—no, maybe I’m the original form.”

He frowned a little at the man’s evasive answer.

“I was asking your name.”

Yeah—I wanted to know the name of this man, standing in front of me.

“That thing means nothing. What about you? Do you remember your true name?”

Even though that tone made him think he was being treated like he was stupid, he opened his mouth.

In order to say ‘his’ name, in the depth of his memories.

“My true name is—”