In the cold cruel world, it was divided between two different people, hearts. There was the purist of hearts, which they would give the whole world everything if they could. Whilst they lived in the light and bliss of purity, there was those that were considered they didn't have a heart. They lived in the darkness, a stark contrast to the warmth of the pure hearts.

In fact there was an old foke tale that the ones who had no joy or happiness, no love, that their hearts were ripped out, so that they knew they could never be happy.

But despite the separation between the two types, everyone was still mixed together.

Though, when you joined the military, you were shocked to see so many impurities. Even after you became a higher rank you hardly ever saw pure ones, leaving you the only to light up the path down the dim hallways. The lighthouse that wasn't able to find another like you. You never thought the heartless could be so miserable.

And Ghost was the first one to give off that impression when you stumbled upon him, literally as well. You were walking down a dingy corridor and suddenly you bumped into someone, making you stumble backwards and fall. But the mystery man was quick enough to catch you, one arm wrapped around your waist, whilst his free large hand on your side.

God, he felt so cold. No wonder the impurities were so dark and cryptic. They were considered the unwanted ones, the unloved.

After an awkwardly long time of Ghost just holding you, you managed to get your eyes to focus on the imposing dark figure. In your light, it just looked like a shadow. You thought that until you saw his eyes, his dark brown eyes that hardly held any life in them, if not at all.

"You...alright?" He asked, his tone deep and cold, his gaze flickering between yours, his hands still supporting you, making him look over you in the position.

He didn't know what it was about you, maybe because you were a pure heart, or maybe just the kind gleam in your eyes, but whatever it was, it made his dead forgotten heart thump.