Locked Hearts & Hand Grenades, a kingdom hearts fanfic

disclaimer
I don't own Kingdom Hearts, sorry to disappoint.

warnings
Mild language, AU, slow updates.

author's notes
I've gotten a craving for angsty, high school centric fics today. ;D enjoiiii

locked hearts and hand grenades
chapter one: first day on a brand new planet

She hates the smell of cigarettes.

She hates looking at them, she hates reading about them, she hates everything about the cancer stick. It hurts to remember his cigarette and booze stained breath. She tries hard, so hard, to get him out of her mind. But everyone she turns—he's always there. He's in the shadows, he's under her bed, he's in her closet, he's hiding inside the cabinet when she's taking a shower. She can't get rid of the filth she feels every day. It never goes away.

It never goes away.

She can't help but feel dirty.

His scent still lingers in her hair, on her body, and she continues to suffer.

Even though it's been three years, he's still there.

She can feel his eyes on her back when she's not looking, she can hear his voice whispering in the quiet of the night.

She's dying.

But there's no cure.

She's hurting.

But no one can see it.

She's falling into the shadows.

But there's no one there to save her.

He ruined her life. She had so much to life for, so much to accomplish. He took it all, and shattered it into a million, billion, trillion tiny microscopic pieces. She doesn't know when she'll be the same again, if she'll be the same again. Others that know her have lost hope. She's changed, they say, She's just a hollow shell. She walks, talks, breathes. But feels nothing. What is there to feel for? She's been stripped of a normal life, stripped of pride, stripped of a sense of dignity. . .

She has no hope.

No will.

No motivation.

Just broken dreams.

And with tired eyes, tired minds and tired souls, we slept.

"It's good to see you again, Olette."

Shimmering emerald shows no signs of recognition, no signs of acknowledgement. They were deep, empty pools of green, darkened by the knowledge of the world. She stares at the blonde woman sitting in front of her intently, never leaving sight of her. A red smile is painted on the woman's face, but Olette can see right through her. She is tired, with bags underneath her eyes. The top button of her blouse is undone, and her hair is frazzled this way and that.

Olette makes no move to reply, but the woman doesn't expect any.

"I hear you're starting school tomorrow. Are you excited?" the woman says slowly, and for a moment, Olette is annoyed.

She hates it when they talk slow.

She's not stupid.

She has ears to hear and eyes to see.

But just because she's a therapist patient, they label her underprivelaged.

Olette stays stoic.

They've been at this for two years, and she doesn't understand why they don't realize she doesn't want to speak.

But the woman continues to talk, as if Olette spoke to her. "It's alright to be a little nervous. I remember when I was starting a new school as a child." I'm not a child. "We moved far away from my hometown, and it was hard to get along with the other kids. They didn't do things like I did—things felt different." At this, Olette makes the first gesture in five months. She visibly cringes at the word. The last, nine-lettered word in her sentence.

Different.

She hates that word.

They made fun of her before, because she was different.

This doesn't go unnoticed by the blonde woman.

"Do you feel different, Olette?" Her voice becomes slow again, and Olette tenses.

"I—I. . . I'm n—not. . . d— . . . diff—differ. . ."

"C'mon, Olette. Finish what you were about to say," She's eager; she's nearly at the edge of her chair. She's been waiting for this.

She doesn't want to say it!

Olette's mouth is still open, and sounds are coming out, but no words are forming.

"It's alright," the woman encourages, "Just say it. Say it."

"Why do you like to read so much? You're so weird!"

"Why don't you have any friends?"

"Guys, look at this loner!"

"You think she's retarded or something? She never talks or hangs out with anyone!"

"I heard she's mute. She never talks to anyone. What a freak show, huh?"

Freak. . . show. . .?

"Hehe. You're different than the other girls, baby. You don't fight back . ."

"No, no, no, no!" Olette shouts. Her nose is burning and her eyes are stinging. "No, no, no, no! I don't want to! Stop!"

"Olette? Olette! Calm down, sweetie! Calm down!" The woman stands up, but Olette shakes her head violently, salty, frustrated tears falling from her eyes. Her arm flails around dangerously, even slapping the woman in the face a few times. But she doesn't give up—she appraoches the thrashing girl with open arms, soon bringing her close into a tight hug. She's still shouting, but it's dying by the second, and her voice becomes more hoarse. It's not long before Olette calms down, relaxing in the woman's arms.

"Ssh, it's okay," the woman comforts, "No one's going to hurt you."

The door swings open violently, and there's a man standing there, worry on his face.

"Kira! I heard screams," he says.

"It's just Olette." And the man nods, as if it explains everything. "We're fine; you can leave," Kira instructs. And he does.

She holds the broken brunette in her arms, and can't help but feel a strong pang of guilt, pity. Olette Jones has been her patient for two years, and Kira knows everything about her. She isn't normally biased to her patient's stories, but with Olette, she can't help but despise the man who did this to her. She's glad he faced execution two days before Olette was admitted into her care. Although he is gone, Kira knows it will be a long time until Olette is even close to being okay.

Kira pulls away and looks down.

Olette's eyes are closed, and she's asleep now, yet there are tears still streaming down her face.

She frowns.

"Oh, Olette. . ."

"Roxas Brown, please report to the principal's office. I repeat—Roxas Brown, report to the principal's office. Thank you."

A chorus of 'ooh's' erupts in room 304 and a blonde haired boy stands up, his cerulean blue orbs twinkling.

He smirks as he stands up, high-fiving all his buddies and winking at all the girls in the classroom as he makes his way to the front door. His teacher sighs deeply, rolling his eyes. "I believe they wanted you to get down to the office before the end of this century, Mister Brown," he says sarcastically.

Roxas winks. "I'm on it, Mr. G."

He waves to the entire classroom as he exits.

Roxas shoves his hands into his pockets, casually strolling down the deserted hallways of Sunset High.

School started just last week, and he'd already gotten over fifteen detentions with over give different teachers. And he's, inevitably, proud of it. His reputation got his name around school fast and everyone knew exactly who he was. Teachers, staff, students—everyone knew Roxas Brown. Bad boy of the school. And Roxas is absolutely content with the name. He likes being the center of attention, and he loves the connections he had with others.

He enters the office and one of the secretaries look up.

She rolls her eyes as he smirks in her direction.

"Nice to see you this fine, morning, Gretchen," he greets casually.

"You haven't flunked yet?" she asks, her voice gruff and nearly masculine.

"Nah. You'll be seeing me for two more years," Roxas winks.

Gretchen grunts. "Whatever. Just go inside—he's waiting for you."

Roxas grins. "We have to chat like this again sometime."

And he slips inside Principal Sachi's office before she could curse profanities in his direction.

It's still the same as it was yesterday afternoon when he was here. The scent of incense was strong in the room and Roxas was glad the window was open. He never could stand the smell of the things; although it was a ritual that his grandmother performed daily. Roxas sits down in one of the brown leather chairs as Principal Sachi swivels his chair around slowly. He looks angry and annoyed by Roxas' presence in the room.

"G'morning, P. Sachi," he greets, and tips his chair back casually.

"Don't do that, Roxas," Principal Sachi instructs, then continues, "I believe you know why you're here this morning.

"No," The words left his smirking lips, "Refresh my memory."

Principal Sachi lets out a heavy sigh.

It's obvious he's tired of the attitude.

He reaches underneath his desk and his hands emerge with two bottles of beer. Another pair, as well as another follows suit.

Soon eight bottles are sitting in a line before him.

Principal Sachi crosses his arms and leans forward onto the wooden mahogany desk. "There were reports that you and your friends were drinking these on school property, near the second quad bathrooms. There were also some reports that you were smoking near the tracks, where we found some cigarette buds," he says. "This isn't the first time, Roxas."

The blonde shruggs defiantly.

". . . So?"

"I'm afraid you've overdone your freebie's," Principal Sachi says sternly. "If I catch you one more time, you might have to face expulsion."

"Wait, you mean like—expelled!?"

Cerulean blue eyes are wide.

Principal Sachi nods. "Yes," he says in all sincerity, "You might have to be expelled."

Roxas' jaw clenches tightly.

He can't afford to be expelled.

His parents don't know he's a bad kid.

They think he's an angel.

He couldn't disappoint them.

When Roxas doesn't say anything, Principal Sachi continues on. "For posession and use of alcohol on school grounds, and smoking during school hours, I'm afraid I can't let this one slip by." He stares the boy straight in the eyes. "For your punishment, I'm asking you to volunteer with at least three of the after school activities." Roxas' jaw drops. He wants to protest, but the principal continues. "You will also join a club. And I will make arrangements for you to help out at one of the local animal shelters."

Roxas stares, dumbfounded.

"You're kidding, right!?" he exclaims.

Principal Sachi shakes his head, and Roxas wants to scream, kick, shout—have a fit.

"Bu—"

"If you don't do this," he interrupts, "You'll have to find another school district." His eyes tell Roxas that he's serious this time.

Roxas leans back into his chair and his shoulders slump.

"Fine, I'll do it."

Principal Sachi's eyes twinkles.

"I wasn't giving you an option."

Ouch.

Sora's hot dog slides out of the bun and lands onto the table.

"What!?"

Roxas stares at the weiner that lays lifelessly on the table and grimaces for a moment. Isn't Sora going to get that? All eyes are on him expectantly, but he doesn't plan on looking up any time soon. He already knows what will be on their faces. Sora's—wide-eyed, mouth agape, arms flailing. Riku's—brow raised, eyes questioning. Kairi's—dissapointment, a little bit of anger and exasperation. They are all too predictable. He cringes as Kairi starts to verbally harass him.

"How stupid can you get?" she hisses, "Drinking on school grounds!? Smoking!?" Her voice is loud and Roxas is pretty sure everyone is in on their conversation.

"It wasn't my idea. I was with Hayner and the others—"

"Hayner!?" Kairi shrieks once more, "I thought I told you not to hang out with him anymore!"

"You should know by now that I don't listen to you," Roxas says airily, "Or anyone."

Kairi frowns and shakes her head.

"You've changed."

Roxas rolls his eyes. He's heard that bit already.

"Yeah, and it all started when you first met that Hayner kid," Riku's voice is heard. It's silky, deep, commanding. Riku had that kind of aura. One of authority, and whatever Riku says is practically law within their group, as well as with others. Everyone knew who Riku was.

Well, everyone knew all of them.

Everyone knew Sora and Kairi, too. They made up the "popular" group.

"What's wrong, cuz?" Sora asks in pure concern, "Is this like, one of those phases?"

"No. Hayner's my friend and we were just having fun." Roxas is getting just a tad bit annoyed.

"You call that fun?" Kairi asks incredulously.

"Actually, yes, I do," Roxas sneers.

"Well, now you're going to have to pay for your 'fun'," Kairi bites back with equal ferocity.

Roxas rolls his eyes and stands up.

"Whatever. I'm going."

"Where? To see Hayner?" Riku states knowingly, more than asks.

Roxas doesn't reply as he walks away, hands stuffed angrily into his pockets.

Kairi shakes her head.

"I don't know what's wrong with that boy. He's going to get in real big trouble one day, and I don't know if we can help him."

"Let's just hope he figures it out in time," says Sora.

He munches on a chip, watching as the blonde walks out of the cafeteria.

She sees light through her eye lids and knows it's morning. Her eyelashes are stuck to her skin with dry tears and they water once more as she rips them open. The morning sunlight spills through her white transparent curtains and she lets out a tiny yawn. She doesn't remember how she fell into the dream-less sleep, but she feels happy that she rest her tired mind. She runs nimble fingers through her soft, brunette locks as she sits up. She notices she's in her apartment room, and blinks twice in pure confusion.

How did I get here. . .?

Her door clicks open softly and identical emerald green orbs stare back at her.

"Ae—Aerith?"

"Good morning, beautiful," Aerith giggles, fully emerging into the room.

"Did you bring me home yesterday?"

Olette's voice is quiet and barely audible. But Aerith, after years of being with the silent girl, could pick it up. Aerith nodded. "Yep. You fell asleep in Kira's office, so she called for me."

Olette slowly nods. That explains it.

"She says you spoke to her yesterday," Aerith starts, finding something to clean inside the room. However, Olette's room is always kept clean and spotless. So instead, she settles on opening the curtains. "But then you. . . started to scream and shout." Aerith's voice becomes softer, knowing to keep her tone calm when with her little sister. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Olette stares at the wall ahead and stays silent.

Aerith waits, before sighing.

"It's alright if you don't want to talk about it, Lettie," she says, "Just know that I love you, and I'm always here for you."

"I love you too," Olette says. There's a smile on her face, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

This worries Aerith.

But she says nothing.

Instead, she grins back. "That's good to know. Now, you start school today! You better get ready. I'll leave you to prepare." Aerith steps out of the room, and the door slowly shuts.

Olette shudders. School. She doesn't want to go back. . . There's too many memories. She remembers the mocking laughter, the cruel comments and the merciless pranks. Along with him, they haunt her mind as she tries to fall asleep at night. She remembers the horrible, horrible kids. They're rutheless and she really doesn't want to face anyone again. But Kira says it's for the good. She says it's a great oppurtunity to become. . . normal.

And that's all she wants to be. She doesn't want to be different, she wants to be normal.

NORMAL

nor·mal (nor-mel) (adj.)
1. conforming to the standard or the common type; usual; not abnormal; regular; natural.

"It looks good, doesn't it?" Aerith comments as they pull up to the school.

Olette bites the inside of her cheek, eyeing the school. It looks old, she thinks as she stares at the school's logo. Sunset High became Unt Hgh because of some missing letters, and many patches of dry grass spread across the lawn. Olette knows that this is the only school she and her sister can afford, so she decides it's okay. She turns away from the window and looks up at Aerith, who looks like she's harboring the excitement Olette should be displaying.

"I have to get to the flower shop, because one of my employees can't make it," Aerith informs, "So, is it okay if you check yourself in?"

Olette just nods and steps out of the car.

Aerith grins, rolling down the window. "Great. I'll pick you up at the front after school. Have a good first day, alright? Gotta split. Bye, Lettie!"

The brunette watches as the car peels out of the parking lot and sighs shakily. She looks back at the school and stares at it for a moment, and she realizes just how much she despised schools. She can still hear their voices. . . mocking. . . taunting her. . . Olette shakes her head, taking in deep breaths—she remembers the methods Kira had taught her if the memories come back. After calming herself down, Olette gathers up what little courage she has and walks towards the main office.

It's a large building near the front of the school and easy to find.

MAIN OFFICE

She double-checks the sign twice to make sure she's in the right place before she steps in.

A woman is sitting behind the desk and looks up as she walks inside.

"Hello little girl," And Olette is slightly taken aback at how boy-ish her voice sounds. She scans the name plate: Gretchen McFeeny. "What do you need?"

"Um, I'm new," Her voice is so soft.

"Name please?"

"Olette. Olette Jones."

She waits as the secretary types something into the keyboard. The computer beeps a couple of times before the printer starts to hum. Gretchen picks up the pink paper that comes out of the printer and takes out a pen, writing something at the top of the paper. Gretchen also takes another, white sheet of paper that seems to be a map of the school and hands it to her.

"Here's your schedule, and a map to get around the school," she informs. "During lunch, you are to report to the West Office to get a picture for your student ID."

Olette has no idea where the 'West Office' is, but decides to look it up later in the map.

"Thank you, ma'am," she says politely.

The woman just nods. "Have a good day."

And Olette walks away, swallowing her fears and insecurities.

". . . and he was like, 'That's what she said!'"

Everyone laughs at another one of Sora's jokes. Roxas Brown merely snorts. He knows all of his cousin's jokes, and they were actually becoming a little over used. He runs a hand through his blonde hair and leans back in his seat slightly. He's still a little bummed over what Principal Sachi had told him. If he pulls even one more prank, he'll get expelled. As much as he won't admit it out loud, Roxas is afraid of getting kicked out of school.

But of course, Roxas Brown is not one to display such intimate feelings.

He was always the one that played around—never serious unless he got beyond annoyed. Everyone would think he was. . . well, weird, if he was ever serious about anything.

No one pays attention to the door as it opens, revealing a tiny brunette with apprehensive eyes. Not Roxas, not Sora, not even Kairi, who is always the vigilant one. It's as if she's not there. They still don't see her as she walks up to Mr. Yazuka's desk and flashes him the pink slip. Roxas leans back in his seat and makes a move to throw a ball of paper at the back of Kairi's head. Sora is still talking to his peers, very loudly, and Kairi is taking notes in her notebook.

Mr. Yazuka clears his throat once, "Okay kids, settle down!" But no one listens.

He starts to get annoyed.

He breaths in deeply, and:

"SHUT UP, DAMN BRATS! WE HAVE A NEW STUDENT!"

Roxas lets out a shout and falls over in his chair, earning glances from his classmates. Sora bursts out into laughter and Kairi shakes her head at his stupidity. Roxas lets out a sheepish grin and helps himself up. ". . . sorry about that. . ."

Mr. Yazuka glares at him. "Since you love to be the center of attention, Mister Brown, you will have the honor of showing our newest guest her way around the school."

"Newest guest?" Roxas blinks. It's obvious he wasn't listening.

"Yes," Mr. Yazuka says and turns towards the girl next to him. He gives her a nod.

Roxas observes the girl as she stands there, not looking nervous, or happy. She is simply indifferent, hollow emerald orbs scanning the classroom.

That's pretty unnerving, he thinks with a frown.

The class is waiting in anticipating silence.

"Go on," Mr. Yazuka urges. "Introduce yourself."

The petite brunette simply nods. "I—. . . I'm Olette Jones." Her voice is so quiet, so meek, Roxas almost didn't catch what she spoke.

"What was that?" A voice in the back cries out.

Roxas recognizes it as Sora's and rolls his eyes. Typical dunce.

The girl still holds her ground, not answering his question, and not blushing. "I've been. . . homeschooled for three years. My favorite color is orange and my family owns a flower shop." It's strange how she keeps her voice so level, so calm. There was even no emotion displayed in her voice at all. Roxas wants to roll his eyes at her. She's too plain, too quiet, too different. She does seemed like a homeschooled kinda person, Roxas thinks with a small shrug.

It's silent, before she speaks again.

"I'm done."

Mr. Yazuka claps, and a few others clap along. Everyone's just sitting, wondering if that was it.

"Great job. You can sit in the seat behind Mister Brown. Roxas, raise your hand please."

Roxas waves a little and the girl stares at him.

Their eyes lock.

Cerulean meets emerald.

Bored meets empty.

He looks away.

He hears her light, feathery footsteps near him and tenses as she walks by. Strangely, the air she leaves is cold and Roxas has to suppress a shudder. He wants to look back, to wonder what was wrong with her—but he doesn't want to be a staring freak. Plus, Roxas never looks back at a girl. They look back at him. He shakes away his thoughts with a grunt and continues to roll up paper balls, throwing them at an unsuspecting Kairi.

Class is over and Roxas is too eager to leave.

He shoves everything into his black backpack and slings it over his shoulder, before making a dash out of the room. But before he can take two steps down the hallway, a strong arm grips at his elbow. He yelps as he's swung off to the side and finds himself looking down at Kairi.

"What's the matter with you?" he snaps.

"What about you, Mr. Forgets-A-Lot? You're supposed to show around the new girl, idiot," Kairi snaps back.

He groans.

"But I don't want to! She's weird!"

"Shut up—don't say that," Kairi hisses and looks around as if the new girl is listening. "She's not weird. She's just. . . quiet, that's all."

"Whatever. I still don't want to," Roxas whines.

"You have to. What if she gets lost and tells Principal Sachi you didn't show her around? He might expel you," she threatens.

Roxas' blood runs cold.

She's right.

"Fine," he caves with a huff. "I'll show her around."

Kairi nods in approval and nods her head towards the new girl, who is still packing up her belongings. "See you at lunch," she whispers and leaves.

Roxas can't help but roll his eyes at the new chick. He really, really doesn't want to be seen around school with her. Who knows what kind of rumors will be spread around the school? Everyone knew who Roxas hung out with, what he did, what he liked. This might really hurt his reputation. He groans inwardly, then strolls up to the brunette, his detest for her growing with each step. He stands there awkwardly and starts to rub the back of his neck.

She doesn't stop to look at him, or even notice his presence.

Is she blind? Deaf? Roxas can't help but think.

He clears his throat a number of times. Still no reaction, he decides to call out to her. "Uh, er. . . hello. Olette, right?"

She pauses for a minute and he notices she's looking at him through her peripheral vision.

He thinks she's about to reply but, instead, she walks away.

Roxas stands, mouth agape.

Did that just happen?

Did I really just get dissed by the freaky new chick? He's a little infuriated by her actions and runs out to catch her.

Olette walks out of the room, knowing full well that Roxas Brown tried to talk to her. She knew his kind. He was the popular kid—just like the ones before. He didn't look too interested when she was introducing herself, and he was uncomfortable when she went to sit behind him in class. He probably doesn't even want to show me around willingly, Olette thinks bitterly. She hates people like him. So judgemental. But as Olette continues to contemplate, she realizes that she's judging him.

A hand on her shoulder stops her in her tracks.

She tenses.

She knows who it is.

"Hey, you know, it's kinda rude to blow someone off when they're trying to talk to you," It's Roxas and he sounds a little miffed.

Olette sighs softly and turns to him.

His cerulean orbs are flashing in frustration.

"I'm sorry," she simply says.

He isn't expecting that, she notices, because his face softens and the grip on her shoulder loosens. He blinks. "Oh. Okay. Well, uh," And he's nervous again. He looks around, and Olette knows he doesn't want to be seen with her. But she stays, just for the sake of not being hypocritical. "Well, I'm Roxas. And I believe Yazuka told me to show you around. So. . . here I am." His body language tells her he's very, very uncomfortable by the situation.

She frowns, but offers a nod.

"Okay," she accepts his offer and hands him her pink slip.

He grins toothily, though its still apprehensive, and reads it over. "We have some classes together. I'll show you where they are. C'mon."

Olette travels a few steps behind him, but stops slowly as he turns around.

She gives him a sideways glance.

"On second thought, let's go this way," he says, going backwards. "It's, er, quicker."

She knows he's lying.

As he starts to walk, Olette turns back to where they were walking. A group of kids stands near a locker, whispering and laughing amongst themselves. They look straight in her direction and has a feeling Roxas doesn't want to walk through there, with her next to him. Her eyes become cold and she straightens her posture. She doesn't want to judge—but she can't help it. First impressions are everything and, so far, he hasn't proven anything she thought about him before wrong.

She straightens her jaw and follows after the blonde.

tbc

author's note
Eh, a bad place to stop. Buuut, it was getting long, lol. ;p So, I just want to apologize for the tenses I use in this story. It's just—I'm practicing writing with different tenses, and since present is kind of the hardest, I wanted to try it. So I apologize if I sometimes switch. Oh, and Olette's kinda. . . OOC? I apologize for that. But it's all for the story. ;D I know, there are lots of questions to be answered, right? Don't worry, it will all piece together in later chapters. Yup!

So, lookin' forward to reviews & such. ;D

BYEEE.

— roxascake