"It's... complicated," Sora answers slowly. "The Keyblade chose me, when... when I lost my home. There was a storm, and there was darkness everywhere. And then, it was just... there."

That's kind of an abridged version of events, to say the least, but it's not untrue, anyway. Even now, years later, sometimes it's hard to be coherent when he talks about it. Even though he's long forgiven his friend for what happened, the memory of that night is blurry and steeped in sad thoughts.

"There's not a lot of people who can use a keyblade. You have to be chosen, or have it passed on to you. I mean, technically I wasn't even chosen. I was just in the right place at the right time."