I am slightly editting and reposting my last fanfiction entitled "Supa Dupa Love: Beat the Witch" or something like that. I'm trying to make the chapters more managable and hopefully I won't stop this one after the first chapter without warning. Change of coupling ideas.

Chapters will randomly change from Roxas's POV to Demyx's POV.

Intentional & Fixed "Couplings": Riku x Sora, Xigbar Demyx Luxord , Xemnas x Saix

Unintetnional: Hayner x Roxas, Seifer x Roxas, maybe other things. Dunno. All depends on how you read it...

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I don't own the game or anything in it. I own most of the ideas and wording, however some may have been inspired by close friends and family and other people's fanfictions... blah blah blah.

Things you shouldn't expect: To be amused or even interested, only read if you're bored out of your wits or extremely generous, clean language and instances, my getting angry at your flaming because I know just how much I suck, a well plotted story, perfect grammar and spelling, variety of language, credible events or character personalities, a lack of typos, and anything else that makes fanfictions good...

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Another long summer vacation, filled with nothingness, but it was the most meaningful hours of their lives. Basking in the shade of a greasy 'geddoe' hang out in the back of town, vocalizing their daily troubles and meaninglessly scampering around town every here and there. But for the moment, they were in their elaborate, "It's too damn hot" formation, which was compromised of four heads meeting in the center of the room and a jumble of arms and legs flowing out in all directions.

They had all bought some sea salt icecream with the last of their accumulated riches obtained from painstakingly long hours of:

Skateboarding in circles nearly crashing into walls trying to deliver some mail to a couple of birds (not to mention a letter to the lady who gave you the job . . . ), for a measly 30 munny each round tops...

Some how managing to kill bees with a bat (why is it blue??), even though there is an infinate supply, consistantly restocking...

Spreading trash by bashing it into smaller pieces, which does not, or should not, eliminate the trash for a stingy old man...

Hitting around a ball in the middle of the street just because children these days are too lazy to break open their own pinatas...

Posting up posters promoting the Struggle Contest, which the stuggle promoter seems to take down right after you post them so he can pay you again...

and hitting someone's cargo up a hill. Don't you think that would, well, I don't know... damage the contents?!

Roxas didn't doubt his town's inhibitors were insane, after all, what kind of girl in her right mind adores the KH2 style Setzer?

At the hour they bought the ice cream, the weather was cooler, but now it seemed wisest to half the group, not to leave the ice cream melting in their mouth and working away at decaying their teeth, but on their foreheads, although that gave the extra effort of trying to keep it from dripping into their eyes.

After feeling the icecream run down his scalp, Roxas mentally declared he needed a shower. But more so, he needed water. So he drew himself into a sitting position, disrupting the other members. The boy who'd been on the opposite side of him was staring at his back frigidly, and carved his stare into his words as he began, "And just where do you think you're going?". Roxas jumped, causing the ice cream which was stuck to his head to to slap right onto his lap. Looking down in dismay, he let out a large sigh, and in preperation for his reply, swooped the remains of the sky blue popsicle into his mouth, parting the easy parting substance from it's moist wooden mount with a swish of his tongue and swallowing it for all the ice it was worth.

This however, worsened his situation, as all the bits of the popsickle taken in at once were way to much for anyone to be swallowing whole, even if they was half melted. He swung a fist at his chest and opened his mouth, letting out gasps and chokes in an attempt to get something up or down his system. To Hayner though, that seemed like an all to convenient occurance for him to avoid answering, so he must done it on purpose. He rolled his eyes first, then rolled himself onto his knees and palms, all the while growling in a developing anger. "What's the matter..." he pushed himself up as he spoke, " . . . cat got your tongue!" rather unexpectedly, and to Pence's and Olette's horror, Hayner tossed his foot straight inbetween Roxas's shoulder blades, sending Roxas into a forward plunge, and the popsicle's stick which still remained in his mouth to get caught in the middle throat, unable to slide down in it's diagonal position, scraping against the ceiling of Roxas's mouth and pressing hard on his internals.

"Hayner!" Olette cried hoarsely, sending her arms aimlessly forward in some delayed attempt to try to do something. Pence would have, but instead he made a humming noise and sent sea salt juice flying onto Hayner's pant leg. Roxas had a hand around his neck gripping at the cause of his pain, and used the other to as a guard against the hurridly approaching floor. He started to nod and shake his head while making uneasy noises and he looked back with a confused and hurt face, his eyes glimmering, filled with water and exposing threatening red tints lining the white, finally meeting Hayner's death glare.

"Whu-wuf-thah-fouu?" he had paused from working his facial muscles, but continued straight after he failed to get his message across. But it was a good question, and the others may have been thinking the exact same thing. He started to twiddle his index finger around in his mouth, but was shortly after interrupted.

"Drop it already!" Hayner slapped Roxas's fore arm, causing the latters hand to fall at his side. Now angered by his friends disbelief, Roxas rose to his feet and reflected Hayner's vicious eyes. Pence's hands fitted themselves on his round belly as he always does on such occasions. Olette, being over catious and caught up in her anxiety forgot to step in somewhere.

Roxas, now suspecting things may get messy, decided it better judgement to rid himself of his handicap, and maybe even win the fight with just that as proof he wasn't faking. His hand became half engulfed within his cheeks, and his fingers locked onto the soaked thin stick. As he teared it out, fractions of it divided and branched off as internal splinters within his tender flesh. He groaned loudly, but managed it out of his mouth, and held it out like some aztec medallion, his spit creeping over his hand. He looked at it, then looked to Hayner, keeping a straight determined face. He had a hint of a prideful smile as Hayner examined it in turn.

Hayner smirked, leaving Roxas in a haze of pondering which swirled about his head, and walked over, gripping Roxas's head under his unpleasantly wet armpit, and driving a fist in circles through his hair. Once again, in that corny way, Pence and Olette smiled at eachother then looked back at the two as though they were a couple in the middle of an innocent brawl. But Roxas had another view on the subject. He classified this as abuse. "Get outta he'a." Hayner imitated one of those cheesy newyorker accents, whether it was on purposed or not. Roxas didn't find any of this amusing, and really, all this ruffling of his hair and sweat passing onto his neck was making him feel the need for a shower even more. He gave Hayner a push and drew his neck into his shoulders, stumbling backwards and nearer the exit, he balanced himself.

Seeing Roxas in the doorway, seemed to reinforce the idea into Hayner's mind that Roxas really was trying to leave. His playful mood vanished and he started questioning in his mind, and after some good thoughts, he demanded an explaination of Roxas, or so he silently declared to himself. When Roxas looked to the three around him, almost imprisoning and interrogating him it seemed, he saw all their faces masked with expressions of dissappointment. This set off a the fume in Roxas, as this kind of unreliable behavior was really getting to him lately. Just what small, unintentional, ridiculas move did he make now that made them all so mad again? Was it impossible to keep them satisfied for over a minute? He just looked at them all, and snapped rudely, returning the mood, "What?"

Pence seemed to back away a little after the comment, but Olette in responce leaned forward slightly. "Goin' somewhere?" Her tone was pleasant, and inviting a friendly comeback. She was smiling herself, and Roxas may have, but he was still faced with cowering Pence and shaking Hayner. Keeping a neutral face, he almost felt like telling them to stop prying, but instead he simply replied, "I just thought I'd turn in early." As he said this, there were numerous retards, he was half debating that if he told them where he was going, they may want to tag along since they probably all needed showers too.

Everyone seemed to subside, and Roxas turned around, ready to leave them with a goodbye and shrug the conflict off for tommorrow to start with a new clean slate. As he lifted his hand in a wave, a sliding arrogant pitch hit his ears. "What for?"

Unbelievable. This is just unbelievable. Roxas clenched his fist, and tightened it until it quaked parralell to his hip. This is really the guy who's always telling me to let things go? " . . . just what is it to you . . . ? " his voice was monotone, yet sharp.

Hayner really didn't know why it bugged him so much either. All he knew was almost everything about Roxas was driving him nuts. The way he looked, the things he said, the things he liked, the clothes he wore, and the way Hayner noticed it all just made him want to puke. It was a serious Roxas over dose. He may have just needed something else to think about.

When he failed to make a competent responce, Roxas walked out and waved to Pence and Olette, while Hayner continued to stare at the floor, continuing his self analysis.

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Managable? Readable? Bearable? Well, it's really not something I can tell seeing as how I'm to receive the bare minimum of responces, however with the small chance that I will, I ask for suggestions, critique, flames. Mainly I'm concerned on if my writing should be phrased in simpler terms. Next chapter will be Roxas, and most likely the one after that. Then onto Demyx.