Cinderiku

by AbnormallyWeirdPerson

Exactly what the title suggests. Quite literally and realistically. Only not. Make sense yet? No? That's ok, Riku doesn't think so either.

1. Once Upon A Time

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor do I own Cinderella. References used for this Cinderella parody include the versions done by the Brothers Grimm, Disney, and Goodyear.

Warning(s): Hints at shonen-ai and maybe shoujo-ai if you squint.

Note(s): This is a two-shot. The end is already written. It shall not be extended in any way, so please don't ask when it is up. Also, please do not ask about the progress of my other stories in your review. There is now a section in my profile answering such questions. If curiosity still plagues you, you can PM/email me and I will respond as soon as I can.

And feel free to review! No one's holding you back but yourself. ;)

---

"Excuse me, little boy, can you help me?"

"With what, lady?"

"I'm looking for a house."

"A house, lady?"

"Yes, my daughters and I are moving in today. My husband went on ahead because we wanted to look at the market. He gave me the address on this paper, but I'm afraid I can't read his handwriting."

She handed the slip of paper to the boy, the location of the house scribbled on its pale surface. Bright aqua eyes looked and blinked at her confusedly.

"This is my house…"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"RIKU! FEED PLUTO, THE DOG WON'T SHUT UP!" a female voice screeched from outside—heard through an open window. Riku winced, he still had to finish washing the last half of the dishes. Sighing, he glanced around the room.

A few stains were permanently painted on the wooden walls, and the sod floor dirtied his bare, calloused feet. Two windows let bright sunlight stream through onto his pale skin. Cabinets and cupboards lined the walls, each holding something different inside. The sink was easily the cleanest part of his kitchen seeing as it was exposed to soap daily.

Yes, his kitchen. The rest of the family wouldn't step foot in there, so Riku felt he had the right to call it his kitchen.

The way the house was set up, Riku had a kitchen in the back of the house on the bottom floor where he made the meals, cleaned the dishes, and put away the groceries he bought. His bedroom was also back there, a room with naught more than a fireplace, straw, a table, and two scraggly blankets. Inside, he would sleep in front of the fireplace to keep warm, for the cool island winds blew cold air into the house. The blankets just weren't enough to keep him warm. However, the flames would always spit ash onto his body as he slept on, unaware of the grime that blanketed his body as he slept. During mornings he had to scrub hard to clean it off, for the good soap wouldn't be wasted on him to clean his face.

It wasn't as if he was the one to inherit his father's wealth. His stepmother had made sure of that.

Anyway, while his kitchen and bedroom were scruffy, the rest of the house was very extravagant. Marble floors and pillars, a gold chandelier and doorknobs, even some famous statues decorated the entrance hall. Of course, he was only allowed in there to clean, but he could tell there were some fairly expensive things in there.

And the rest of the house was just as elegant. Satin sheets, velvet curtains, silk clothes, pure white walls… All of it made Riku feel out of place in his tattered green tunic and patched tan trousers.

"RIKU!" the female shouted again. Riku sighed, defeated. Releasing the dishes to soak in the sink from his prune-like fingers, he rubbed his hands against the scratchy material of his hands in a sorry attempt to dry them. Grabbing a doggy treat, Riku headed outside through the back door.

His step-family was outside today. As Riku stepped onto plush green grass, he saw that they were apparently trying to play croquet.

Trying, and failing. Miserably.

"No, Yuna! You're holding the stick wrong!" a girl corrected. Green eyes sprouted from under her blonde hair that was up in millions of tiny braids, held up on her head by a thick blue headband. She wore a short orange miniskirt today, Riku noticed. It went right above her thighs and was decorated with small yellow bows on the sides. A yellow top with belt-like spaghetti straps covered her chest. To contradict this apparent lack of clothing, cream arm warmers, a red scarf, and boots were applied. Although it was summer, usually people covered themselves up a little more than that. But, Riku's mind reasoned, at least she has more decency than Selphie. I mean, my god, woman, you can't go prancing around in things you wore back in school.

Selphie, Riku's stepmother, was a widow and ran the house. Even though she lacked a husband with a job, she didn't have to waste money on servants and maids to keep the house clean (Riku did that for her for free), and the mortgage on the house had been paid some time ago. She usually spent her money on clothes, her hair (which reminded Riku of a rowboat, the way it flipped out), and pretty little dust-collectors that Riku was forced to polish until they showed the viewer their reflection. The thing was, most of the clothes she bought weren't for her, but for Rikku and Yuna. She, herself, would frolic about in tiny, canary yellow sundresses that nearly crossed the line of what was decent and what wasn't.

Now Yuna, she was better in the sense that her clothing, while revealing, definitely covered up more. Her short, slightly spiky brown hair bounced around her shoulders as a long rat tail extended from the back. Blue boots were laced up to her knees while a sky blue feather thing covered her right leg; the other was left bare except for the purple skirt she wore beneath. A white and pink, hooded tank top covered most of her torso though her midriff was clearly visible. One azure and one emerald, eyes concentrated on the red ball as she picked it up, tossed it in the air, and swung.

Riku's eyes widened. That was not how you played croquet!

Luckily, the young girl missed and the ball fell harmlessly to the ground where a golden-brown dog began sniffing it.

Oh right, the dog…

"Pluto! Here, boy!" Riku called, swinging the treat in the air. The dog's ears perked up before racing over to Riku, nearly knocking him over as he jumped up to him excitedly. "Calm down, Pluto. Down, boy," Riku said, grinning as the dog obeyed him. As he handed Pluto the treat, he found it licked right off his palm—a slobbery liquid in its place.

Eww… the boy thought, wiping it on his trousers.

"Riku! You wanna play croquet with us?" Yuna asked when she noticed his presence. Riku didn't have to think his answer over very long when Selphie glared at him.

"No thanks, Yuna, I still have to finish washing the dishes," Riku excused himself. Selphie gave a nod of approval. Playing with them was a big no-no in Selphie's book, and if he did, he'd most likely get humiliated and verbally abused.

Washing dishes was much more pleasant than those two experiences.

So he walked back inside, unaware of the eyes on him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Did you hear? Mr. Aulger died last night!"

"Of disease, I heard."

"Someone mentioned poison to me."

"I'll bet it was that son of his—Riku. Never trust someone with silver hair, that's what I always say."

"I always knew something was wrong with him."

"How terrible! A child murdering his own father."

What were they talking about?

.----------------.

"What are you doing in here, Riku? This is my room."

What do you mean? This has always been my room . . .

"What are you talking about? Your room is downstairs, stupid."

But… the room downstairs is scary…

"Oh, don't be a baby. Now get out of my room, I need to unpack."

But this is my room! I'll go get Daddy, he'll show you!

"Daddy isn't here, Riku."

What… do you mean? He promised he wouldn't leave me.

"Don't you know? You killed him, Riku."

…What?

"Now get out already."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Rikku watched Riku leave the yard. She didn't mind him much; he did his job, she did hers. As long as they didn't get in each other's way, everything was fine. Of course, living together always created some problems with that motto, and whenever they ran into each other she couldn't help but be kind of mean. It was as if whatever he did just… irritated her. They may've had the same name (well, almost), but Rikku always felt she was the better of the two. After all she wasn't the one stuck doing chores night and day.

"Rikku, Yuna, this game is getting tiring. Why don't we go in and have your music lesson?" Selphie suggested sweetly.

"Alright, Momma, I don't really get this game anyway," Rikku agreed. Yuna nodded her head as well. What was the point of trying to hit balls through metal hoops anyway?

Dropping her mallet, she joined her mother and sister as they went inside out of the dreadful summer heat.

Riku set the plate in the cupboard. There, that was the last of it. He sighed contentedly, now he could relax. Maybe take a nap or—

"Riku! We'll be upstairs in the music room. Clean the entrance floor hall while we're up there! And don't answer the door if anyone comes!" Selphie yelled.

The boy's good mood dropped like a rock. It always took ages to clean the entrance hall, and he'd really been looking forward to some free time.

Filling a bucket with water, he dropped some soap in it and grabbed a sponge. Heading to the entrance hall, he bumped into Rikku who had apparently been walking at a slower pace than her family.

Rikku glared. "Watch where you're going already."

"Sorry," Riku spat.

Scowling, Rikku replied, "Liar."

But she didn't give Riku time to talk back; just swiftly went up the stairs after her mother and sister. Sighing, the boy picked a spot and started scrubbing.

The floor wasn't even all that dirty, he found. If he just cleaned a few spots where dirt was obvious, he could get away with it, right? Deciding so, he began working on just the spots that mattered.

He glowered at the floor and scrubbed harder when he randomly remembered Rikku. The blond was only a few months younger than him, but she acted like Riku was a stupid child or something! If anyone was a child, it was Rikku—the spoiled brat. Yuna was older than her though only by a year or two.

Speaking of them, he could hear their music lesson going on right now. Selphie was pounding on the piano. (Riku doubted she really knew how to play.) Rikku twittered away at the flute. (She had to be off-key.) And Yuna… Yuna sang.

As much as Riku hated to admit it, Yuna was a good singer. In fact, she almost made her family's playing seem better. Now that was a hard goal to accomplish.

Gradually (and subconsciously), he stroked the floor in rhythm with the song.

"Sing sweet nightingale. Ah-h-h-h high above me. Sing sweet nightingale—"

KNOCK. KNOCK.

"Message from the king!" an unknown voice called through the door.

The singing stopped abruptly as did Riku's scrubbing. Picking up his tools, he left the room quickly as Selphie bounded down the stairs. He knew she wouldn't want him there in plain sight when a messenger from the king came to call. In fact, she wouldn't want him in sight when anyone came over.

But that didn't mean he couldn't see what was going on. Peeking from his room, he watched the scene unfold.

Selphie fussed with her hair for a moment (and not changing it one bit) before making a big show of grandly opening the door.

"Can I help you?" she asked, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face. Riku nearly gagged.

"Yes, I have a letter from our royal King Mickey the Third," the messenger announced, handing Selphie a letter with the king's seal clearly on it. From his position, Riku couldn't see what the messenger looked like, but he caught a glimpse of well-manicured hands when he handed Selphie the letter. "Thank you very much. I assure you it will be given proper attention," Selphie said politely, clutching the letter with greedy hands.

"Good day, madam."

"Good day, sir," Selphie returned, shutting the door quickly. "Rikku! Yuna! Come down this instant!" she screamed happily.

"What is it, Momma? What is it?" Rikku cried, skipping steps on her way down.

"Is it an invitation to Tidus's birthday party? He told me he was planning it soon," Yuna wondered, following her sister albeit not as quickly.

"It's a letter from the king!" Selphie told them enthusiastically.

Rikku's and Yuna's eyes widened.

"The king?!" they cried, hurrying to her side.

"Open it! Open it!" Rikku cried, jumping up and down. Yuna's incoherent yelps were probably similar.

Selphie obeyed, ripping the letter open and holding it up to her face. Her children looked up at her with wide, expectant eyes as she read the letter out loud.

"His royal majesty, the honorable King Mickey, and his faithful wife, the loyal Queen Minnie, have decided to throw a ball in honor of their son, the heroic Prince Ansem the Fourth. His highness has high hopes that Prince Ansem may find a fiancé at this festive extravaganza. The event will take place this night at eight o'clock. Transportation will be provided out of respect for the public. Please expect a carriage to arrive at your home at approximately seven o'clock. With all hopes you may attend our rendezvous, King Mickey."

It took a moment for it to sink in.

Well, maybe a few minutes.

Ok, let's just skip this waiting to the point when they finally picked through all the fancy words and figured out just what the king's message said. (As commoners they weren't exactly given the best education.)

"OMIGOD WE'RE INVITED TO A BALL!" Yuna shrieked.

"I COULD BE A PRINCESS!" Rikku exclaimed.

"I COULD HAVE ROYALTY IN MY FAMILY!" Selphie cried.

The threesome jabbered on for a few minutes about what could be and what could happen and such before realization finally hit Yuna.

"I need a rose to go with my dress!"

"What?" Rikku asked.

"My dress! I just remembered I need a rose to go with it. It will look awful otherwise!"

Selphie counted out a few bills.

"Riku!" she shouted. "I need you to go to the flower shop and buy a bouquet of roses!"

Riku groaned. He hated going out in public. All those other kids always poked fun at him, calling him a servant and slave and such. He hated it. And if they weren't calling him that, they were hitting on him like a common street whore. It was disgusting, really. Riku was only seventeen and those adults were, what? Forty? Ew.

"RIKU!"

Sighing in defeat, he figured he should get it over with as soon as possible. Maybe there wouldn't be too many people out there since it was around lunch time. If he was lucky, all the kids would be eating.

Ha. Since when had Riku been lucky?

Slinking out of his room, he said, "Yes, Selphie?"

"Here's some money, I need you to get a bouquet of roses. Nothing else. Got it?"

Riku rolled his eyes. "Yes, Selphie."

"Good, and don't roll your eyes at me!"

"Right," Riku mocked, but escaped out the door before she could say anything else.

Oh well, if nothing else, at least he got to go outside. The front yard was always soothing to him when he walked down the worn path. Its large spread of green grass and delicate flowers arranged in rows on the lawn was pleasing to the eyes. Pansies, snapdragons, petunias, marigolds, chrysanthemums…

Riku looked away. That last flower didn't hold the best memory for him. How could it? Chrysanthemums were always at funerals.

He shook his head. Now wasn't the best time to think about it; he didn't want to think about it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chrysanthemums were placed in every available cranny of the church. People shrouded in black fabric moved like a glob of molasses. An old pastor preached about how his father went to a better place.

But… he told me… when I asked if he would leave me like Mommy . . .

"Riku, there's no better place than being with you. I promise I won't leave you."

And Daddy never lies…

"I promise to tell the truth if you tell the truth, deal?"

"Deal, Daddy!"

We pinky swore.

Riku bolted from the pew in a sudden panic. People said his daddy was dead, people said it was his fault, people said he left them—lies! They had to have been lying! Shoving the lid away from the casket, the little boy looked in to see…

Daddy looked so peaceful, so still. And so cold.

Adults dragged away the boy in shock. Selphie scolded him for acting like that in public. And the preacher went on about how the dead man had affected everyone's lives.

Daddy was smiling there. I saw him.

I guess he lied to me, too.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Yuna watched Riku leave the house grounds from the second floor. Rikku and Selphie were preparing for the night already, and one could only guess how long that would take.

The brunette wouldn't lie. She was excited about the night. Who wouldn't be? In a town like this hardly anything interesting ever happened. Besides, parties were fun. If they weren't, they wouldn't be called "parties" at all. No, they'd be called "un-fun gatherings of people." That's what they'd be called—"UGOP" for short. And who would attend something called "UGOP?" Exactly. Thus, the name "party."

Focusing her attention back on Riku, she noticed he had reached the street by now. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only kid on the street this time of day. Well, any time of day, to be blunt. There was always somebody.

Er… wait, all those kids… More of them were coming out of alleys and the like now. What was up with that? Were all of them after Riku? Yuna knew they liked teasing him, but that many? It'd be like a public execution!

But, wait, hold up. Selphie had always told Yuna and Rikku not to help Riku with his fights. His mother said he needed to learn to stand on his own, and he could only do that by being forced into tough situations. Also, he was a boy. He'd be fine. It wasn't Rikku's or Yuna's place—in general, a girl's place—to fight. It just wasn't done.

And so, Yuna felt the cold wash of guilt as she turned her back, letting her eyes become blind to the crimes of the world around her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Riku glanced over his shoulder. Yep, that was them. Great. Just his luck to be walking to the florist's and to get beaten up by all three gangs in town.

Lovely. (Note the hint of sarcasm.)

Three gangs were surrounding him now. As for the reason why, Riku hadn't a clue. In front of him was Seifer and his "Disciplinary Team" who really didn't do any "discipline" except when people didn't listen to them.

Seifer himself wore baggy burgundy pants and a blue sleeveless shirt that showed way more stomach than was needed. Blond hair was covered by a navy cap. Oh, and one more thing. His face was always in a smirk. If not, it'd be a look of disgust. Neither were pleasant.

His minions, Fuu and Rai were practically polar opposites. Rai was tan with dark hair. With a red top and black pants with red stripes on the sides, he would always end his sentences with a "ya know." It got real annoying real fast.

Fuu, on the other hand, wore a khaki skirt and a blue, also sleeveless, high-necked shirt. Her silver hair, though shorter, was similar to Riku's, but she managed to evade town ridicule. She was also, as one might say, antisocial. Single words were ejected with deadly accuracy at her victims. And sometimes, if you were lucky (or maybe if you were unlucky, depending on your point of view), she'd utter a whole phrase!

If carefully evaluated, one would notice that all of them wore sleeveless shirts, but not that many people cared to look at them that close for fear they'd be caught and beaten up for staring.

The gang behind him also didn't get along with Riku. Why? Well, they had a history, and it wasn't a good one. It was only one member in particular though—Roxas. The other kids, if they gave him a chance, probably wouldn't be so cold to him. But Riku and Roxas hadn't exactly gotten off on the right foot; therefore, the whole group was prejudiced against him.

Roxas, however, wasn't the leader. No, that was a kid named Hayner.

Hayner had… weird hair, to say the least. It was blond and was combed back into some sort of wavy-spiky mess. His pants were splattered with different shades of green from all the grass stains he'd gained. A dark shirt with a light vest thrown over it completed his odd ensemble.

The other two, Pence and Olette, were pretty laid back. Pence wore this new kind of material called "denim" for pants (and they looked pretty spiffy, too) with a sleek red, sleeveless tunic over a long-sleeved white shirt. Black hair flopped over the sides of his headband.

Olette wore a khaki skirt just like Fuu. Maybe it was a new fashion? Moving on, she donned an orange top and a turquoise bracelet decorated her thin wrist. Her dark brown hair was flipped over in front of her shoulders and some of it curled in the back.

Roxas himself had black and white etched all over him. Black pants with white patches, a black shirt and white jacket, and some black and white wristbands. Black, white, black, white… ugh! Did his wardrobe not consist of any actual color?

The third and final gang was making its way from an alley. Unlike the other two groups, these guys actually had a name: Organization XIII (which was kind of ironic in itself since there were only twelve of them). Their trademark was their black cloaks that they wore constantly, even in the hot summer. How they managed to keep it up, Riku never knew, but he had a suspicion the heat melted the coats to their skin.

Their leader was Xemnas. Then there was Xigbar, Xaldin, Vexen, Lexaeus, Zexion, Saix, Axel, Demyx, Luxord, Marluxia, and Larxene. At least, Riku thought that was the right order. With twelve people that you didn't even really know, it was hard to keep track.

And all of them were surrounding Riku.

Lovely. (Again, note the sarcasm.)

Seifer smirked. "Hey, fag, whatcha' doin? This is our territory."

Riku glared. "It's also Main Street, and I doubt you can keep the whole town from using it. So back off."

His tormentor gained a sort of evil look in his eyes as he said, "But I never said I wanted the whole town off the street—just you."

"Yeah! And you're in the way, ya know!" Rai yelled at him.

Riku blinked. In the way? In the way of what

"Hey! Seifer! We got a bone to pick with you!" Hayner called from behind.

"Whatever! Fucking thieves!" Seifer shouted back.

Then Riku understood. Seifer's and Hayner's gangs hadn't come to beat him up, but to beat each other up. Well, that was fine and dandy, but what was Organization XIII here for then?

"Hey, Roxas! What are you doing with them?" one of the Organization members—Axel?—yelled.

"Well, what do you think, Axel? Oh wait, I forgot, you can't!" Roxas insulted.

Axel growled, "Oh yeah, that's really a good way to talk to your friend!"

"Friend? Since when?" Roxas spat.

Another Organization member—Riku thought it was Larxene this time—joined the fight.

"You little bitch! Don't talk like you weren't ever our friend! Though the way you're acting now, I'm sure glad we aren't anymore!" Larxene cried.

"We didn't steal anything!" Hayner retorted to Seifer.

"LIAR," Fuu said firmly.

"Yeah, what Fuu said, ya know," Rai echoed.

It was around then that Riku decided to hightail it out of there. No way was he going to get caught in between some gang war. Slipping past Seifer's group who were preoccupied with yelling and getting ready for violence, he dashed into the florist shop. Slamming the door shut behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. Boy, was he glad to be out of that mess.

Inside, rows of potted plants and small packets of seeds filled tables positioned near the windows. Green was the main color (as expected when it came to plants), but an entire rainbow was made from the blossoms. Light streamed through the glass ceiling and walls. Apparently, they'd made it into a greenhouse as well. Riku supposed they wanted to kill two birds with one stone, as the old saying went.

"Can I help you?" a woman asked. "Oh, Riku, it's been a while since I've seen you! How've you been?

Riku looked for the voice's source, and, spotting it, recognized its owner as Aerith. The florist seemed the same as the last time Riku saw her. Same brown hair in a chunky braid, same pink dress, same boots . . . It was as if time had paused her appearance, allowing her to maintain her youth through the ages.

Not that she was that old to begin with. Riku didn't know for sure, but based on what people had said and so on and so forth, he suspected her to be between twenty-eight and thirty-two. The last time he'd seen the woman had been a few months ago when Selphie forced to make him try to buy a daisy during late winter.

"I'm ok, it's been a while, Aerith," Riku replied, smiling.

Returning the smile, she said, "That's good, I was beginning to worry a little. Oh, but never mind me, I should probably get you on your way before Selphie throws a fit, right?"

The teen nodded. Last time he'd stayed too long chatting with Aerith he missed dinner—mostly because he had been the one who was supposed to cook it. Selphie and her daughters had gone over to the bakery after getting sick of waiting for his return.

"So what do you need?

"Oh, ah… Selphie wanted a bouquet of roses, are there any left?" Riku asked, unsure whether any remained. With an invitation to the ball going around, many suitors were preparing to woo young maidens—and what better way than with roses, the flower of love?

"Yes! Roses are always popular, so we make sure to have them available year-round by the plenty. Over here," she directed, heading off through the aisles of vegetation with Riku close on her tail. "Here we are!" she chirped, stopping abruptly to gather a dozen in her arms, carefully aware of the sharp thorns that were eager to prick at her skin. Leading him back to the cash register, she made idle talk of how nice the weather was so far this year for the plants and other things that really didn't change Riku's life one bit. Aerith was kind, but from her standpoint she really couldn't do much to help Riku get out of his delicate family situation. She'd weighed the pros and cons before, but the risk was just too great for her to handle.

But that was behind them now. Her choice had been made, and Riku respected her decision. After all, Selphie would never allow Riku to live with Aerith out of her own free will, so if Riku disobeyed anyway, it'd be seen as a kidnapping. And the teen felt the florist really didn't deserve that.

"Alright, here you are, Riku. Thanks for your business, have a nice day!" Aerith called as he stepped outside back into the bright sunshine of midday.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Why? Why can't I play with you?" Riku cried, his wooden stick snapped in two and laying a few feet away.

"Shut up!" Roxas shouted, making a threatening motion with his stick, waving it through the air.

Those in Organization XIII laughed, calling out mean names like "crybaby" and "stupid-head."

Riku wanted to glare at them. To tell them to shut up, to go away, that he didn't want to play with them anyway.

But all he could do was cry because things just kept going wrong and nobody was helping him make it right.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Oh shit," Riku murmured under his breath. He'd nearly forgotten all about the three gangs outside. At the moment, Hayner and Seifer were yelling at each other about something being stolen while Roxas and some of Organization XIII (mainly Axel, Demyx, and Larxene) were shouting about something along the lines of friends and betrayal. Roxas insisted he'd never been their friend, and Hayner denied Seifer's accusations of thievery.

Luckily, violence hadn't broken out among the groups yet, so Riku still had a chance to get away without becoming involved. That all depended on how soon the others decided to start fighting though, and by the looks of it, they'd start within the next five or ten minutes. The Twilight Town gang was going to get clobbered, Riku decided. Two gangs against one wasn't very good odds for them—not that Riku cared all that much about them. They could gain broken ribs and fractured skulls, but all Riku would recognize that as would be that they'd be one group to stop bothering him for a while.

Stepping with quick feet up Main Street, Riku headed away from the soon-to-be fight. Turning into an alley, he followed its straightforward path, fairly certain he'd be able to take a detour. If he turned right again at the small intersection up ahead, he should go in the right direction to take him home. Besides, if that wasn't enough, he could always look for their house on the hill since it was rather big and noticeable even from a ways away.

There was always a peaceful solution, Riku knew, even if it was plainly running away.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Yuna let out a breath of relief as Riku returned unscathed with the ordered bouquet of roses unharmed in his grasp. Selphie marched up to him, muttering a "took you long enough" and wrenching the flowers easily out of his hands.

"Yuna," Rikku whined, "will you button up the back of this dress? I can't reach my fingers around…"

"Sure," her sister obliged.

Meanwhile, Riku slunk away to his room. Even if it wasn't the loveliest room in the house, it was the only one that was really his. Plus, his stuff—not that there was a lot, mind you—was kept in there out of Selphie's reach. Of course, he didn't know why Selphie would want his things in the first place, they weren't exactly girly, but that had never stopped the woman before.

The fireplace was constructed of solid bricks and mortar although a few loose blocks remained here and there. Four such bricks were located on the right side of the fireplace's frame about two feet up from the ground. After prying with a few flat stones, Riku managed to pull all four out, one by one.

Inside the hidden nook lay a few objects kept from his childhood. He'd known about the spot since he was small, so when Selphie and her daughters moved in, his precious things had already been placed there. Back then, it'd just seemed like a game—a secret hiding place that only he knew of. It was fun.

Now… now it was the only safe place to keep his personal items—not that there were many of them. Just a few trinkets, really.

A dusty red, rubber ball that lacked the bounce and luster it used to own when it was new. The silver-haired teen would play with it every now and then. Throwing it against the wall or tossing it in his hands kept his hands busy while his mind wandered through endless passages with veiled doors and hidden handles.

Also in the space was a locket with pictures of his parents inside holding him as a baby. The chain was made of pure gold, he was told, yet another reason to make sure Selphie never obtained it. Riku's treasure would be on the market in an instant. He wouldn't let that happen though. That picture inside was the only one he had of him with his family. Selphie had replaced the others long ago. If anyone glanced at the pictures decorating the hall now, they'd see Selphie and her daughters. There remained maybe two pictures with Riku's father in them hanging up. Riku, however, wasn't in a single one of them.

Moving on, a stick Riku had whittled when he was younger that roughly resembled a dagger. It was supposed to be a wooden sword, and when he was younger it really had seemed like a wooden sword. With the blade about a foot long and the handle proportionally adjusted, anyone could tell it was made for a boy of five or six. He used to be pretty good, too until Roxas challenged him. That was embarrassing. At least he had the lame excuse of not having his sword with him and having to use a brittle, petty stick.

Last but not least, remaining in the hole was a fragile, glass snow globe. The scene within it held a little old lady forcing her way through a blizzard on a mountaintop. At the base of the bauble were some words of wisdom from his mother: Be good and pious, and God will always take care of you, and I will look down upon you from heaven, and will be with you. Riku had always assumed they were some sort of blessing and took them somewhat seriously.

His father, he remembered, had once told him different words though. The man had said, "Never give up if it means going home." Riku thought they were odd words when he was told them, and he still thought they were weird now.

His father had been a strange man though; after all, what kind of man preferred books to fighting? Between fighting in the sun with the adrenaline of battle racing through your veins or sitting in a musty corner, gaining a crick in your neck and a headache from at words on paper too long, which was manlier? Obviously the former.

…Not that what Riku was doing with his life now was very manly either. Housekeeping? Since when was that a job for men? Then again, it wasn't as if Riku had much choice in the matter. If he could follow his dream… that'd make the world a much better place from his perspective.

Setting the memoirs back inside the hole, Riku returned the bricks to their proper place. He had some free time and he didn't care to waste it by fantasizing his past with saved toys from a long-gone period of his life.

The sun wasn't yet brushing the horizon with its fiery edges, and Riku knew of a hammock swinging in the backyard with his name all over it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Selphie poked her head in Riku's room. Odd. He wasn't there either. She'd checked the kitchen and the entrance hall (just to see if he went back to cleaning it even though she doubted he would bother).

The woman of the house was elaborately clothed in a black gown. A silky gold ribbon was tied around her the collar in the front. Tongues of silver twisted around, licking at her shoulders and collarbone. The dress's skirt swept over her heeled feet. Her hair stayed the same although the women had tried hard to do something more flattering with it.

Scratching her head, Selphie wondered just where the teen could be. After all, it was the night of the ball! Surely he should be begging her to let him attend right now? It was the ball! There'd be girls, punch, oh! And the prince—couldn't forget the prince. Why on Earth wouldn't he want to come?

She pondered this for a while, but decided it didn't matter as much as she thought it did. He wouldn't be going tonight with her and her daughters. No, indeed.

If he did show up, well… Selphie smirked. She supposed it would just be the result of a little magic…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"RIKU!"

Said person blearily opened one eye. He'd been sleeping on his back in the hammock for the past hour or so, his hands resting right below his chest. The sun had nearly disappeared from sight; its rays still lighting up the bottoms of the clouds.

Selphie had finally finished with her and her daughters' appearances. Yuna was dressed in a strapless snow white gown. The skirt was cut short in the front above her thighs but descended steeply to the floor, trailing behind her in a small train while outlined with soft feathers. Chocolate hair was held up on the back of her head with glittery metal pins. Gloves covered her tiny hands which clutched a single rose tightly—so tightly, in fact, Riku was surprised the thorns hadn't punctured her skin yet.

Rikku, on the other hand, wore a sleeveless orange dress with a high neck. Her skirt fell to above her knees; the colors on it changed dramatically from a bright citrus orange to a deep crimson at the bottom. A few bangles jingled off her wrists and fingerless gloves warmed her palms. Blonde hair was pulled out of her face in a high ponytail hanging down to her waist—all the braids taken out and straightened.

"What is it?" he yawned drowsily, reaching his hand up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

Selphie glared at him.

"Where is our dinner? It's nearly seven o'clock!" she demanded.

Riku mumbled, "I assumed you'd be eating at the ball—surely they'll have food there? And besides, isn't that carriage supposed to pick you up at seven?"

Yuna and Rikku glanced at each other worriedly behind their mother. Selphie also appeared shocked to have forgotten such an important thing. A yell from the other side of the house alerted them of the carriage's presence.

"TAKE CARE OF THE HOUSE!" Selphie shouted over her shoulder as the women proceeded through the house to the carriage.

Riku sighed. He guessed he should head in before it got too dark. Without the sun, he didn't have the light source necessary to cook his own supper. (That is, unless he lit the lanterns, but those smelled.) Cooking for Selphie and her miscreant brats was a chore, but fixing a meal for himself was necessary.

Without further ado, the silver-haired teen rolled out of the comfortable hammock and left the fresh outside air only to be greeted inside by the musty atmosphere. Deciding on something simple, the teen set himself to the task of making his dinner.

Getting out the bread, Riku started a sandwich.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"No."

"Aww! Come on, Hayner! I might never get to step foot in the palace again!" Olette complained, crossing her arms.

Hayner raised his hands. "No! I said no, and I meant no! It's not as if we have fancy clothes to wear to it anyway!" he defended.

"Come on, Hayner… I think it could be kinda fun," Pence admitted, taking another lick of his ice cream.

Olette beamed at him. "See? See? Pence wants to go to! Please, Hayner? Just one night! It's not as if it'll kill you."

"I'm not so sure about that…" Hayner muttered under his breath, but Olette seemed to miss his comment.

"What does Roxas think?" Pence asked.

Inwardly, Roxas cursed Pence for bringing him into the argument. If they didn't go, they'd spend another boring night out on the town. True, it might actually be peaceful for a change since the Twilight Town "Disciplinary Committee" and Organization XIII would probably be attending the ball. But without those guys, it was also incredibly dull. Seifer with his cockiness and jerk attitude was always fun going against in a battle of wits. And some of Organization XIII's members were fun, too.

Roxas couldn't remember being friends with Organization XIII, but he couldn't remember any of his life before age fourteen anyway. He'd gotten into a bad accident with a cart full of oranges. When he woke up from his comatose state, Axel, Larxene, and Demyx were some of the Organization XIII members at his side. They said they were sorry and that they didn't mean for any of it to happen.

It was then that Roxas asked them what their names were. Heck, he asked them what his name was. None of them took that very well at all.

Later, he met Hayner, Pence, and Olette while relearning the town on his own. (Organization XIII had been willing to help, but he'd turned them down. After all, what good were people who let you get amnesia in the first place?) Roxas and Hayner hit it off well and became quick friends.

Axel and the others saw them together the next day and, in the simplest words, got pissed. Not because he was hanging out with Hayner and the rest of the Twilight Town Gang, but that he was getting along with the Twilight Town Gang. There was a difference there, believe it or not, and it was just enough to set Organization XIII against Roxas and the Twilight Town Gang for a long while to come.

Things had gone outrageously downhill from there.

Roxas had been told he was best friends with Axel and Larxene, but he couldn't remember it; therefore, it never happened… right? Besides, just what kind of friends gave you amnesia?

"Helloooo! Earth to Roxas!" Pence called, waving his hand in front of the blond's face.

Said blond blinked a moment before finally noticing the hand and leaning his head back far away reflexively. "Yeah?" The others laughed for a moment.

"What do you say to us going to the ball?" Olette asked sweetly.

Roxas shrugged. "I say we'd need new clothes that we can't afford first."

"Not true, I know we all have another outfit somewhere," Olette argued, pointedly staring at Hayner. "So all we have to do is get that out, spiff it up a bit, and we're good!"

Hayner eyed her warily. "And if I don't have another outfit?"

Olette smiled a creepily natural smile. "Then I guess you're going to the ball in your birthday suit."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Selphie, darling! How have you been?" a boisterous woman asked.

Selphie returned the pleasantry, saying things were going well and that she was having a marvelous time at the ball. She also mentioned the enormity of the ball itself and the décor.

The ballroom was monstrous in size with an incredibly high ceiling. An enormous golden, candlelit chandelier hung down, lighting the room brightly with the help of many smaller chandeliers that were suspended in the air by a large, single chain each. Murals of angels were painted skillfully across the ceiling in shades of gold, blue, silver, and red.

To the side of the room near the orchestra lay long tables full of food. Meats, vegetables, fruit fresh from the fields and snacks of all kinds were spread out along the tables upon silver platters. (And if they weren't silver platters, they were dang good imitations.)

The orchestra was made up of approximately twenty people plus the conductor; classical music flowed throughout the giant room thanks to the acoustics provided. One could hear the violins and cellos quite clearly if he stopped paying attention to the chatter around him, for not many people danced. Many preferred socializing to attempting a waltz they'd forgotten the very steps to.

Yuna, at the moment, was being monopolized by two extremely different men. Her current partner was titled Prince Seymour. With grey-blue hair streaked back and an elegant, deep purple tailcoat and dark pants, several women were easily ensnared by his appearance. Yuna, however, wasn't one of those women. Seymour was creepy and kept saying how she would make a glorious asset to his kingdom—uniting the Guado and people of Twilight Town together.

…Or something like that.

Tidus, on the other hand, was completely different. Polite, gentle, sweet, caring—all those wonderful things that Yuna looked for in a man.

She'd definitely have to find him a good birthday present to thank him.

Meanwhile, Rikku was wandering through the crowd while attempting to find the prince. Even though she didn't know what the prince looked like, she figured it should be easy to tell. After all, he was the prince. With his fancy clothes, he should be easy to spot.

At least, that's what Rikku kept thinking as she continued her search fervently.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"This will work," Riku muttered to himself as he held up a leather bag. It was a traveling bag, durable and practical.

Yes, Riku was getting ready to travel. He wasn't sure he would run away that very night, but it was definitely the night to grab certain things. For instance, he couldn't be sure when he'd get another chance to find clean clothes that actually fit him.

Since he was the only boy in a house full of women, Riku headed upstairs to Selphie's room. She still had some of his father's old clothes—those would do. He didn't mind if the clothes he found were too big, for he didn't even know when he'd leave this wretched routine.

But Riku had found it was always best to be prepared.

Opening the door to Selphie's chambers, he rushed inside and neatly ransacked the closet. (Now, one might wonder how a person goes about neatly ransacking, but people that wonder about that aren't in this story and are utterly unimportant.) Riku sifted through the articles of clothing in her wardrobe. Once finding his father's old garments, he stuffed them inside his bag. (There were only four or five pieces of clothing.)

After stealing the clothes, he went through the bathroom and nabbed an extra towel, bar of soap, and a washcloth. Shampoo would've also been taken if there wereany extra bottles. With Rikku and her super-long hair, any leftover bottles of shampoo missing would have been noticed before he even left the house.

Basic hygiene materials could be thrown in at any time, but since he needed them for a while, they stayed out in the open. These items were some of the few he'd been allowed and consisted of a hairbrush, a toothbrush and toothpaste. Admittedly, that wasn't a lot, but one learned to be grateful for what one had.

Another thing he filched was a blanket of fairly good quality. The ones he owned were barely any use.

"Ok," Riku sighed. "That's all for now…"

Without wasting another minute, Riku hurried to his room and removed the bricks from the fireplace. Carefully managing to set it inside the nook, he maneuvered his personal things already inside to make room. Finally making it fit, the teen replaced the bricks.

Leaning against the wall, he sighed tiredly.

"HEY! HEY YOU! OPEN UP!"

Riku jumped. Looking in the general direction of where the noise came from—in this case, the window—he saw a stranger tapping on the glass.

She had short black hair and had some weird periwinkle blue cloak on with the hood down. Violet eyes placed on a fair complexion stared at him. Short in stature, one could barely see her face through the window.

"What? You gonna stare at me all day or will you let me in?" the girl asked rudely.

Riku eyed her suspiciously. "Why should I let you in? I don't even know you."

"I'm the Great Ninj—I mean, I'm the Great Fairy-Godmother Yuffie!" she said proudly. "Now will you let me in?"

"If I do, will you go away quicker?"

"…Maybe…"

Rubbing his temples, Riku thought the situation over.

"…Fine, but you can't stay all night," he agreed, going over and opening the window. With interesting aerobics, the self-proclaimed fairy godmother climbed into the house.

After looking him over for a moment, she said enthusiastically, "OK! Now, you want to go to the ball, riiiiiight?"

"No," Riku dead panned.

"…Oh, well um… you kinda have to…" Yuffie argued, puzzled.

"Why do I have to? It's not as if I'm gonna marry the prince or anything. That's what girls like you are for. Speaking of which, why aren't you there?"

"I'm on a job and you have to go the ball! Since when is marrying the prince exclusive to a certain gender?"

"Since royalty is required to produce an heir. Besides, I don't care to marry anyone right now—boy or girl."

"Wellllll… I can't leave you alone unless you do what I say for the night."

"Why? Nothing illegal, I hope."

"It's nothing like that, and I promise you won't get in trouble! Please?"

She was practically begging him now, and Riku was beginning to feel like some sort of villain with those puppy eyes she was giving him. Those eyes just screamed "GIVE IN! SATAN COMMANDS YOU!"

…Damn habits of obeying people.

"Fine, but if I get in trouble with anyone it'll be your head."

Yuffie just smiled widely. "Right, but meanwhile, you go put this on," she insisted, digging something out of a deep pocket inside her cloak. "Here! Put it on." Handing him the clothes, she watched with amusement as the color drained from his face.

"No way in hell am I wearing this…" Riku said firmly, holding up what she had given him. Sky blue, the glittery dress was made of stretchy material. The scary thing about it was that it appeared to be his size. Did somebody plan this or something?

Smiling the sweetly, the girl replied, "You will if you want to get rid of me. Now be a good little boy and try it on. I gotta tell those guys to hurry up with that pumpkin," she exclaimed, running back to the window and shouting something.

Riku, meanwhile, went into another room and forced himself into it. The fabric clung to his waist snugly; skirts flared from the hips and swooped gracefully over his bare feet. Cups hung useless and empty from his chest.

Stepping back into the room where he last saw Yuffie, he glowered as he nearly tripped over the dress. Yuffie clapped her hands happily.

"Wow! That looks even better on you than I was tol—thought it would!"

Riku glared.

"Well… um… anyway, here's the gloves that go with it!" she said, handing him two elbow-length gloves. Reluctantly, the teen pulled them on his arms, that shade of blue was starting to irritate him.

"And your hair! It'd look good in a bun, don't you think?" she asked brightly.

Riku continued glaring.

"Um . . . right, anyway, turn around and kneel so I can reach," she ordered. Riku unwillingly did as she said. Rolling back her sleeves, the girl swiftly set to bringing his hair back. Riku winced at the pain of his hair being pulled tightly back. Luckily, the pain was brief and within five minutes Yuffie declared she was done.

"You have easy hair to work with, Riku," she commented.

"That's nice, now is there anything else you want me to do that strips me of my dignity and pride?"

"Well… come to think of it, there is one more thing…"

The victim groaned. "What?"

"Ok, well there's this giant pumpkin outside—won prize for being the biggest in Halloween Town, I heard—and there are six white horses tied to it. Now, a little leprechaun man—"

"LEPRECHAUNS HAVE RED HAIR LAST I HEARD! ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND? MY HAIR'S BLOND AND TURNING GRAY WITH ALL YOUR DAMN SHENANIGANS!"

"—named Cid is directing the pumpkin. 'Cause this pumpkin is gonna be your ride to the ball!"

Riku remained speechless for a moment.

…But that moment ended as he shouted, "NO WAY IN HELL AM I RIDING IN A DAMN PUMPKIN TO A BALL—which I don't even want to go to—IN DRAG!"

Yuffie pursed her lips in a thin line.

"Listen, mister," she started. "I let go of my ninja pride to become a fairy godmother. A FUCKING FAIRY GODMOTHER! You will do as I say! Now get!" she demanded, fire burning in her indigo irises.

Riku scowled and started walking outside, much to his dismay. The fairy godmother followed, grinning satisfactorily.

The soft grass collapsed under the teen's naked feet. Moonlight fell elegantly upon his figure as the stars twinkled in their appreciation. There before him stood the pumpkin carriage with the six horses all lined up. A blond man sat atop the orange vegetable with the reins gripped in his aged hands. Smoke rose from a cigarette sticking out of the man's mouth.

Riku felt he could safely assume that this man was Cid.

"Ok, before you hop into the pumpkin and I never see you again, I have a few rules for you," Yuffie said. "First, you have to stay at the ball until midnight. At midnight you have to leave. Ok?"

"Ok."

"Good! Now, second, these are shoes specially made for you. They are glass, fragile, and breakable," she warned, handing him a pair of heeled glass slippers.

"Why am I wearing glass? What if it breaks? I don't exactly want shards of glass in my foot. Think of the amount of blood loss! Glass shoes could be used as a lethal weapon!"

"Then don't break them! Jeez, it's not that hard! Third, when you leave the ball, one shoe must be left behind on the stairs or something, ok?"

"And the purpose of this is…?"

"Just do as I say and you'll survive the night! Now, did you get all those rules?" Yuffie checked.

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Riku scoffed. "Leave at midnight, don't break the shoes, leave one shoe behind."

"Good. Now get your booty in that pumpkin! We don't have all night, you know!" Yuffie said, shoving him towards the carriage. "I put a towel on the seat, so the pumpkin goop shouldn't get on your dress!"

With that, the unfortunate teen carefully sat inside the vegetable, leaning forward so that his back wouldn't touch the disgusting orange goop. Cracking the whip and yelling some profanities at the animals, Cid sent them rolling down the hill towards the palace.

"Remember!" Yuffie screamed as she ran alongside the accelerating carriage. "You must leave at midnight! Any earlier or later will ruin everything!"

"Just what is everything?!" Riku cried out the window.

"All in due time, Riku, all in due time!" she yelled as she slowed down, panting to catch her breath as she came to a stop. "Well, Selphie," she murmured to no one in particular, "this is one helluva scheme you cooked up. But once people become acting forces in plans, everything is ruined. I wonder how your plan will hold…"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Roxas glanced around nervously. He wasn't use to being crushed in huge crowds like this at all. Everyone was in fancy clothes and it couldn't have been natural for people to be that tall!

Peeking at their footwear, the blond saw that most wore heels. The cheaters.

Olette had managed to find them all cheap tuxedos for the night. They were used, old, and out-of-fashion, but they were much more appropriate for the ball than their other clothes. Even Hayner, though he complained immensely, was wearing one. It hadn't been such an ordeal getting Pence to wear one, but Hayner had been another story entirely. He'd been saying something about his "manliness" and "dignity" until Olette pulled out a gown for him. After that, Hayner had gone silent and accepted his fate.

Unfortunately (for Roxas's amusement, that is), Hayner had taken the tuxedo—not the dress. How was Roxas ever going to get blackmail material now?

Not that it mattered. Right now, all that mattered was finding his friends. They'd all wandered off somewhere in the gigantic ballroom, so Roxas was utterly alone and felt rather small among the people that faked their height by wearing those high-heeled shoes

"Roxas," a chilling voice whispered into his ear. The blond boy froze; he recognized the voice from one of the Organization XIII members, but he couldn't figure out who. Said voice continued, "Xigbar is a sharpshooter and is around here somewhere watching you. You draw attention to us, he shoots. Don't worry, he won't kill you, but you'll be tranquilized for a few hours at least."

Roxas gulped. "W-what do you want?"

The voice chuckled. "Just let me take you somewhere for a few minutes; no physical injury will come to you unless you trip and fall or something like that, but that won't be my fault. Now, I'm going to grab your hand, and you are going to follow me without question. Try to run away or anything like that, again, Xigbar will not hesitate to shoot. Understand?"

The blond nodded nervously.

"Good." With that, a gloved hand roughly grabbed his own and yanked him to the side. Looking up, Roxas finally saw his kidnapper. It was one of the Organization XIII members as he suspected—Saix. His long, cool grey hair swished down his back over the black leather trench coat. Surprisingly (or maybe not surprisingly depending on your point of view), the gang members must not have removed theirs' which really was too bad. Roxas and his friends had been placing bets on what they actually wore underneath all that black.

They threaded through the crowds of people. A few ladies' dresses were stepped on and a few gentlemen would have to re-shine their shoes, but no major damage had been applied by Roxas's feet yet.

Soon, they reached a door under the grand staircase with Larxene and Demyx standing outside. Eyeing them suspiciously, Roxas assumed they were to guard the room once he was inside, for it would make most sense if the room beyond the door led to where Saix was leading him.

As expected, Saix shoved Roxas roughly through the door, shutting it after him. Roxas tumbled to the ceramic-tiled floor. Rubbing his shoulder, he examined his surroundings.

Well, what did one know, he'd been taken to a bathroom. A few mirrors lined the wall above several sinks. Next to the wastebasket hung a paper towel dispenser on the wall. In a row stood about four or so stalls; all the doors shut although there were no bodies occupying them from what Roxas could tell, for no feet were visible.

But what had to stand out the most was the figure in black that was leaning casually against opposite wall. Eyes shut, head lowered, arms crossed, one leg bent and against the wall… the posture suggested some anxiety and anger, yet controlled at the same time. Steady breathing as crimson strands slung onto his face also said he was focused solely on the situation at hand.

The big question was: since when could Roxas read Axel's body language like an open book?

Scowling, he said, "Axel, what the hell is the meaning of all this?"

Said Organization member snapped his emerald eyes open and bore them into Roxas's own sapphire ones. After staring for a solid second, the redhead pushed himself from the wall and took a few steps forward.

"Roxas, I only had this done so that you would learn exactly how you lost your memories."

"I already know how I lost my memory! You and some of the others pushed me in traffic and I got run over by a cart of oranges!" Roxas spat.

"That's not true," Axel snarled. "You wouldn't know that for sure even if Hayner or one of those others had told you!"

"How can you say that?" Roxas shot back; admittedly, the blond had been told this by Hayner, but it wasn't as if his best friend would lie to him about something like that.

"Because he wasn't even there! All he knows is the rumors!"

"Are you suggesting my best friend is a gossip?"

"NO! …Though he might be, I've never bothered trying to find out. Either way, you weren't correctly informed on how you lost your memory."

"Then how did I lose my memory, oh wise one?" Roxas mocked, rolling his eyes.

Axel stared at him hard for a moment to see that he wouldn't interrupt. After that had been determined, he began pacing aimlessly as he explained what happened to Roxas's past.

"I know it's hard for you to believe, but you were in Organization XIII at one point, ok? You, me, Demyx, and Larxene were best friends. Sometimes the others would hang out with us, and Luxord was always looking for someone to play cards with—this was before he discovered the magic place called a 'casino,' mind you.

"Anyway, you'd been developing a crush on Larxene for a few weeks before your tragic accident. One day you decided to confess and ask her out, so you went looking for her and you found her—making out with Demyx. I was right behind you since I was gonna support you and be there for you and all that crap. You, feeling betrayed at your first experience with love, turned around, and literally ran away.

"Before anyone could stop you, you blindly ran into traffic. A cart of oranges ran over you, and one of the oranges must've hit you hard enough to make you lose your memory."

Roxas stared blankly. "That's how I lost my memory? No joke?"

"No joke," Axel answered.

The blond was silent for a few moments, thinking over things in his head. Beginning to tap his foot, Axel grew somewhat impatient.

"Well?" the redhead finally said to break the silence.

"'Well' what?"

"Any questions?"

"…I really actually had a crush on Larxene?"

Axel chuckled. "Yeah, but don't worry about it. She's pretty much the Organization XIII's whore—a bitchy whore, mind you, but still a whore. All the guys in Organization XIII have been with her at some point—even me."

"And you still willingly hang out with her?"

"Being a whore doesn't stop her from being as fun as hell—in the nonsexual way, I mean."

"I thought hell was painful…" Roxas wondered.

Axel laughed. "Yeah, but perfect heaven is boring as he—shit, can't say 'hell' in that one… um… boring as life without leprechauns!"

Roxas dared a small laugh himself. "But leprechauns don't exist!"

"That's besides the point."

"Whatever you say, man… but Axel?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you bring me here and make sure I knew all this? I would've thought it'd be more trouble than it'd be worth, but . . ."

"Roxas, of course it was a lot of trouble, but that didn't stop us from doing it, did it? Saix brought you here, Xigbar watched you, Demyx and Larxene are guarding the door, and I'm in here telling you this because at one point you were our friend. And we thought you deserved the truth. Happy?"

"…You know that sounds kinda sappy, right?" Roxas checked.

"A little, yeah," Axel admitted. "But telling the truth like this is always incredibly cliché anyway."

"True…"

"Yep, well, I suppose you can go now. You're welcome to hang out with us if you ever get bored, alright?"

"You sure?"

"I said it, I meant it, so memorize it already. Oh, by the way, Demyx out there has what Seifer's pissed at you guys for, in case you wanted to get it back."

"So you guys were the ones that got Seifer all pissed at us? What'd you take, anyway?"

Axel gave him a grin. "Go out there and find out for yourself. Demyx and Larxene are probably examining them right now."

"Examining what?"

The redhead sighed, "Will you stop asking and just go and find out already? I gotta pee."

Roxas made a face. "Thanks for sharing."

"Anytime, now unless you're waiting for a show, get out already!" Axel yelled teasingly. The blond obliged and stepped out of the restroom. Just as the Organization member had said, Demyx and Larxene were both giggling as they looked at whatever they were holding.

"What are you guys looking at?" Roxas asked, peering over their shoulders to see a handful of photos.

"Oh! Hey, Roxas!" Demyx greeted. "Axel told you, then?" Roxas nodded. "Right, so these are what we stole from Seifer," he explained, holding up the pictures for Roxas to see.

I found them in his room next to his bed," Larxene explained.

"What were you doing in Seifer's room?" Roxas asked.

Demyx stifled a giggle while Larxene explained slowly as if to a child. "Well, you see, Roxas, when a man and a woman get together alone—"

"You mean you did the nasty with Seifer?" the boy gaped.

Larxene burst out laughing. "You're so innocent, calling it 'the nasty' as if 'sex' was a bad word!" she cracked up. Roxas's cheeks flared up for a moment out of embarrassment while Demyx chuckled some, too.

"Anyway," Larxene continued, "he was sexually frustrated and I was there, so I agreed since it'd be good blackmail material later on. Besides, it's not as if I had anything to lose."

"Oh…" Roxas murmured. "So you were there and you found some pictures next to his bed and stole them?"

"Basically, but Roxas, have you looked at the pictures yet?" Larxene asked, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Flipping through the seven or eight photographs, it didn't take long for Roxas to realize something.

"All of these pictures… are of Hayner?" he asked, shocked and entertained at the same time.

Yup," Demyx said, releasing a new batch of giggles.

"I did wonder about that boy while we were going at it…" Larxene mused. "But I never considered something like this! . . . Not that we can prove it yet…"

"And Hayner definitely won't let him get the opportunity. I can guarantee you that," Roxas promised.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," Demyx said, grinning. "But Roxas, you should probably get going to find Seifer's assumed infatuation before midnight hits. By that time, everyone will have drunk enough to want to dance—even if they don't know the steps," Demyx hinted.

"Right," he agreed, sticking the photos in his pocket. "Thanks, see ya later."

With that, he walked off, searching for the Twilight Town Gang with the comforting feeling in his heart that maybe, just maybe, Organization wasn't as evil and scary as it appeared. In fact, if he got to know them better, they might just become friends again.

But that would be after he found Hayner and the others.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ansem stifled a yawn. Maids had been fussing with his cuffs all day and refused to leave his hair alone. Honestly, it was fine! It was long and combed back—one single hair out of place wouldn't make that big a difference. Besides, he was with commoners; they probably wouldn't even notice if he had twenty hairs out of place.

Good thing they couldn't follow him into the ballroom.

A maroon, crushed velvet tailcoat jacket was buttoned up with white ruffles sticking out the top; gold trimming lined the edges. He wore black pants tucked into a pair of black, leather boots. His white hair was removed from his face. A few small strands stuck up and tried to return to their former position, but the maids had tackled those strands with a vengeance, forcing the hair to obey their will. Which, in itself, was quite a strong will. Ansem never knew how bossy maids could be until they were told to dress him for a ball to find his future spouse.

…Never again… he thought, shuddering.

At the present, he was sitting in a relaxed position with young girls from around the kingdom trying to gain his favor. They were like little birds, in his mind. Like little birds that would wake you up in the early morning with their incessant twittering and chirping. Several wore dresses bright enough for Ansem to consider them parakeets. One lady was clothed in vibrant yellow—she was a canary. The short woman in front in a dotted gown was a chickadee. An overweight woman in the back with a slight facial hair problem reminded him of a turkey. Covered in pink, an impossibly skinny girl dubbed as a flamingo kept checking her make-up.

Ansem sighed. The only difference between these women and birds was that he actually liked birds. His well-kept menagerie was proof of that. A bird's singing would only be an echo lost to him unless he listened for it. The girls' constant chatter surrounding him, on the other hand, was difficult to ignore.

But ignore it, he did. At least, he decided, until something interesting comes along.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Where is he?" Rikku wondered, peeking over someone's bony shoulder. Though there should have been a large crowd mobbing the prince, the amount of people was so astounding that one couldn't differentiate any groups from the crowd in its entirety.

"I wonder if he fell in the punch fountain," she mused distractedly.

"I can assure you, no one has fallen into the punch fountain." Rikku jumped a bit as the deep female voice stated the fact behind her.

Turning around, she saw a woman who was at least a head taller than her. Her face automatically gave off the impression of a strong personality; strands of hair sprung up to hang in front of her face. Luscious red lipstick and heavy eyeliner brought out her crimson eyes. She wore a velvet black gown that flowed down to her ankles where heeled boots covered her feet. Scarlet thread held the ensemble together.

"So who are you looking for?" the woman asked.

Rikku replied, "Who's asking?"

The woman chuckled. "Paine, and your name?"

"Rikku," the girl answered.

"So, Rikku, who are you thinking fell into the punch fountain?" she asked, a small grin tugging at the edges of her mouth.

"The prince—not that I think he fell into the punch fountain, I just can't find him so I was thinking that maybe that was why and he had to go change his clothes or something or maybe he got the chicken pox and wasn't able to attend but surely they'd tell us that in some announcement or something and besides—" Rikku was interrupted abruptly when Paine held her finger in front of her lips—effectively silencing her.

"Calm down, the prince is being swarmed by all the other maidens in the house right now. Even if you could get to him, he'd probably brush you off like all the others."

"But I'm—I'm—" Rikku stuttered.

"You're…?" Paine trailed off.

"I'm me! I'm Rikku! None of those other girls are like me; I'm not like any of those other girls! Why would he just brush me off?"

Paine shrugged her shoulders. "To him, you'll just be another girl after his affections. He's probably sick of people by now," she said simply.

Rikku sighed. "…You're probably right, but my mom really wants me to get his attention! And I know my sister won't help, she's too occupied with those other guys right now," she muttered bitterly.

Cocking her head to the side, Paine inquired, "Are you jealous?"

The blond looked shocked. "Jealous? Of who? Oh, Yuna?"

"No," Paine said. "Jealous of those guys she's with."

"Oh…" After contemplating a moment, she said, "Well, maybe. I think I'm more upset at the fact that Mom'll let her off since she's been with those guys while I'll get told off 'cause I haven't managed to catch the eye of any guy here."

"Are you sure? Not many guys are stupid enough to let a cute girl like you go by."

Blushing lightly, Rikku responded, "There's an exception to every rule."

"I suppose so…" the older one agreed. A few seconds of silence passed awkwardly before Paine offered, "I'm going to get some more punch. Do you want to come with?"

"Sure!" Rikku said, grinning. Paine seemed like an interesting person, and it was getting boring searching for the prince whose name she couldn't even remember. If she couldn't find a husband tonight, she could at least find a good friend.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"So, your wife still a florist?" the brunet guard asked nonchalantly. His back was leaning against the wall as his sword hung in its sheath from his waist. Having refused outright to wear the ridiculously flamboyant suit of armor, he was dressed in leather pants and a leather coat over a cotton shirt. One might argue that this wouldn't seem like the appropriate garments for a guard, but hardly anyone bothered to contradict him. With a faint scar running over his face diagonally from above his left eyebrow down to below his right eye and a glare that seemed capable of freezing hell—not many dared to disagree with his choice of dress.

"Yeah, she's doing pretty well with it, too," his blond companion answered. Yellow strands of hair stood up to face the sky in numerous spikes as their owner leaned onto his sword. Unlike his friend, this guard had his sword out and ready—just in case. His clothing—pants and a sleeveless shirt—was all made of navy blue fabric except for the sturdy, black shoulder armor resting on his left arm. But no matter his slouching position, his eyes still shone a fierce cerulean blue into the night.

Unlike most of Twilight Town, these two men stood watch outside the castle doors. The night was chockfull of stars that night, forming a glittery backdrop as the full moon stole the limelight. Impressive marble columns held up the castle's roof and lined the front of the building. Double doors about three times larger than they needed to be marked the distance between the two men. Fortunately, the flight of steps up to said doors wasn't too long for the guests arriving that night, so it didn't take too long for the dancers to get inside.

"Hey Cloud, you know your neighbor—Tifa? Turns out she's Yuffie's cousin."

"Really? That'd explain her patience," said Cloud. "How is Yuffie anyway, Squall?"

"It's Leon," the brunet insisted. "And Yuffie's doing ok. She and her uncle Cid had some job to do tonight."

"What was it?" Cloud asked. With Yuffie, it was bound to be interesting.

"Not sure, but I know she's supposed to get paid pretty well afterwards. Apparently her employer is expecting to come into some good money."

Cloud whistled softly. "That much, huh?"

"Yeah, she said she warned the lady that she'd sue if things went wrong though, so I'm not sure what's going on."

"Must be pretty serious if Yuffie's threatening to sue—usually she's fairly lenient with her paycheck."

Leon chuckled. "According to my sources—"

"So you were eavesdropping again," Cloud dead panned.

Undaunted, his companion continued, "According to my sources, she had to give up her precious ninja pride."

The blond raised an eyebrow. "Is she even really a ninja? I mean, I've heard stories, but…"

"She's sneaky, athletic, and a damn good pickpocket, but I wouldn't call her a ninja. That's something you have to be born into, and I've met her family. You've met her family."

Cloud sniggered. "Man, seeing Cid as a ninja would give me entertainment for the rest of my life." Leon snickered a little, too. Cid doing anything that required flexibility and nimble feet was amusing in itself.

"She's pretty good with a shuriken, too—I think they're also called ninja stars or something?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right," the blond agreed.

"YAH! YAH! GIDDY-YAP! DAMMIT, PRINCESS, YOU'LL KEEP GALLOPING IF YOU WANT ANY APPLES TONIGHT!"

The two men glanced at each other, somewhat unnerved from the scream ripping from the road.

"…Is it just me, or did that sound like Cid?" Cloud asked hesitantly.

"It sounded like Cid," Leon confirmed.

Cloud chuckled. "Thought so… This is gonna be an interesting night…"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Would you slow down already?!" Riku shouted from inside the pumpkin. The road they were riding on wasn't exactly the smoothest thing in the world as it was. Cid wasn't helping matters by taking speed bumps at forty miles per hour. So he was bumping around in the inside of the giant pumpkin and trying not to get orange goop on him. (Not because he was afraid of it or anything, but really, who does like getting pumpkin goop on them?) Unfortunately, he failed, for alas, something orange had plopped on his skirt.

"Stop complaining—we're almost there as it is!" Cid called back.

True to his word, it was only maybe two minutes before the horses collapsed in front of the palace steps. Inside the carriage, Riku cursed the driver profusely as he quickly and meticulously attempted to rid himself of the bright orange goop that had somehow managed to find its way onto the dress's fabric and his hair. (Needless to say, he paid attention to his hair first.)

Then the carriage door was abruptly pulled open and Cid grabbed Riku's arm roughly—yanking him out of the pumpkin. Stumbling, the boy glared as he stood shakily in the fragile shoes.

Cid smirked. "Well, you're on your own from here, kid."

"I know," Riku replied in an annoyed fashion. "Though I'd much rather not be here at all!"

"Well, tough luck. Besides, it's not as if you'll die," he stated as he sat up on the top of the pumpkin and took the reins into his hands.

"Why'd you do this anyway? I don't even know you," Riku drilled.

"Sorry, but that's confidential information," he answered. With that, the blond man flicked the reins and cussed as the horses swung forward much too fast—effectively disappearing into the night.

Riku considered running back home now, but knowing his luck tonight, it was likely Yuffie would find him and just bring him right on back.

Damn it all, the teen thought as he grumpily trudged up the path to the palace; his hands gripped the front of the dress's skirts to hold them up and keep him from tripping, but, being new to dealing with skirts and glass shoes and femininity to this extreme in general, he did trip spectacularly well. Hands instantly catching him from falling too badly, his face was centimeters from the steps.

He heard a snigger or two from above. The guards were laughing at him!

Standing straight up and heading up the stairs, he managed to make it to the doors without falling this time. Unfortunately, the guards were still laughing at him—his appearance probably didn't help matters. After all, Riku was a guy wearing a fairly snug form-fitting dress meant for a girl (like all dresses were madefor).

Come to think of it, that was sexist of their society.

But that didn't mean he wanted to be part of the revolution against it!

"Ah, name?" the blond guard asked, looking at a clipboard while still snickering.

The other snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Cloud, there's only one name left to be taken. Besides, even if she isn't her, who else is going to show up for the ball this late?"

"Maybe she'd want to be fashionably late?" Cloud argued.

"Unlikely—fashionably late is, at the most, two hours late. This girl here is three hours late. Just let her through," he insisted. Riku glanced at his face. The brunet man wasn't sniggering at him anymore, but there was still a smirk well-cast upon his face.

Cloud sighed. "Fine, fine… you can go."

And that was how Riku passed through the doors. (Amazing story, isn't it?)

Before the doors shut completely behind him, Riku still heard Cloud telling his partner, "You know, Leon, if that girl ends up being a terrorist, I'm gonna blame you."

He just rolled his eyes. At the moment, he was annoyed and relieved at the same time. They both thought he was a girl! The statement certainly brought his masculinity down a notch, but at the same time, it saved it from being completely and utterly humiliated.

Walking warily into the ballroom, he was unfortunately discovered by the announcer who proclaimed everyone's name as they passed down the grand staircase. As he came up to him, Riku let a groan slip out, but quickly realized he'd have to make his voice high and squeaky if he didn't want to be found out to be a boy. His voice had already matured, too, so that didn't exactly help matters.

The announcer said to him, "Gentle lady, you are Cinderiku, correct? For there is only one name left, and I'm sure the guards wouldn't have dared to let you pass otherwise."

Riku nodded, unwilling to let his voice betray him.

Humming to himself, the announcer shouted loudly into the ballroom above the din and music, "Gentlemen and beautiful ladies! May I present to you the lovely Lady Cinderiku!"

Sighing, Riku took that as a cue to begin his descent down the steps—extremely self-conscious as he did so, for with that abrupt introduction from the announcer, all eyes had turned on him. Riku bit the inside of his lip. He didn't particularly like people or this much attention, and now he was being given it all at once.

Praying he wouldn't trip, he stepped down.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ansem glanced up at the entrance. He could've sworn he'd heard the announcer say yet another name. Seeing a young lady slowly coming down the stairs, it was obvious that his hearing had not deceived him.

She was pale in her sky blue gown and took small, dainty steps in shoes that reflected the light spectacularly well. Although she had silver hair tied up in a bun, the prince was not superstitious and refused to let that deter him. Her body was thin and delicate blue gloves covered her hands. And then there was her face. Eyes were narrowed and cheeks slightly pink from the attention.

Ansem smiled to himself. She was lovely, that much was certain. For once, the announcer had not lied when introducing an individual. Many times earlier that night, the announcer had added "beautiful" and "lovely" and "amazing" in front of someone's name when looks-wise, they really weren't so. If the prince had bothered to get to know them, he was sure they would be just as the announcer claimed they were. Er… for commoners, that is.

The only problem he saw in her was that unattractive bit of orange on her skirt. Then again, fashion designers had such weird ideas these days—who knew if it was intentional or not?

Deciding she would be the one to spruce up his unexciting night thus far, Ansem stood and, smiling at the ladies choking his personal space, passed through the crowd fairly smoothly. (Well, as smoothly as a prince can go, that is.) Just as his target reached the floor, he arrived at the scene, holding out his hand with a charming smile set upon his face.

"Would you care for a dance, Miss?" he questioned politely.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Riku regarded him coolly. From the fancy and undoubtedly expensive suit he was wearing and the women fawning behind him that sent the man eyes of admiration while he received glares as sharp as pointed knives, he could only assume that this man was either the prince or some other important individual of status.

Damn. No way would he be able to get out of this dance without drawing even more attention to himself. He had to accept.

Well, as long as the guy didn't try to feel him up, he supposed there wasn't much of a problem.

I still don't want to dance though! he whined in his head.

"I would, Sir," Riku answered just as politely. That was the proper response for a lady, right? Oh, heavens! What if he was supposed to just say "Yes" or something? Society had so many different rules placed now…

Taking the offered hand, he was swept onto the dance floor as the crowd parted, leaving a circle of space in their wake. The orchestra took advantage of the sudden silence that seemed to encompass the entire room by starting up with a lively piece that kept the few dancers there were up on their toes. Gradually, as the prince and Riku continued to twirl about, more couples joined them on the dance floor.

"You're very beautiful," the prince complimented his partner. Riku couldn't help but blush in order to hide the laugh begging to burst forth from his lips. Ansem, of course, recognized it as a sign of shyness instead.

"Does it make you nervous to dance with the prince of the realm?" he asked.

"A little," Riku replied in his high voice, trying to say as little as possible.

Ansem laughed. "That doesn't surprise me although you should've seen some of the other girls tonight—boisterous and outgoing, completely unladylike at all, mind you. Some of them even had the nerve to belch in my presence! How ridiculous is that?"

"Very, Your Majesty," Riku agreed.

Their conversation went on like this for another hour or so while envious eyes gazed on, awaiting their chance to pounce.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Selphie observed the ballroom with the careful eyes of a mother searching her children out. She saw Rikku with a woman near the punch bowl, giggling and chatting animatedly. While upset her daughter hadn't found a good man, at least she was making friends with a lady who might have some connections—her dress certainly insisted so.

Yuna, on the other hand, was dancing away with Tidus. The mother smiled. Tidus had always been such a good boy. But what was this? A man of obvious importance was clearly waiting at the sidelines for his chance. Selphie wrinkled her nose. A Guado. She'd never much cared for them.

Soon, however, her eyes sought the prince out. He wasn't hard to find. In the middle of the dance floor, he whirled a young lady with silver hair around, her azure dress billowing out below the knees.

Merely grinning with a hint of recognition in her eyes, Selphie turned back to her activities, thinking, Yes, we'll indeed be in for some good money soon.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Oh, God, when can I escape? That lady said midnight—what time is it now? Riku thought, craning his neck over Ansem's shoulder to try to see the clock.

"Whatever's the matter, my flower?" the prince asked, concerned as his pretty flower strained its neck to see over his broad shoulders.

"Nothing," Riku lied quickly, flashing a smile at Ansem to tide him over.

It did. And the prince and his "flower" continued their dance which had become much slower over the course of events. (The queen told them to slow the tempo for her son's delicate, royal feet.)

However, though he was unable to view the clock, he could see King Mickey and his queen heading his way.

Crap. A prince was enough, but the whole royal family? Nuh-uh!

"I-I'm sorry—I have to go!" Riku protested suddenly, deliberately stabbing his heel into Ansem's precious foot. The prince successfully distracted by the pain, Riku fled. He darted through the crowds of people with the stairs in sight as his goal. His glass shoes made it hard for him, but he managed. Having danced in the shoes all night, he was fairly used to them now.

Dashing up the stairs, it wasn't long before he heard the prince's cries.

"My flower! Wait! Come back to me! I don't even know your name!"

Liar, Riku thought. The announcer said my 'name' first thing I walked in the door! Or is your memory really just that horrible?

A fair amount of people were shoved aside as the chase went on. One would probably think that with Riku in a dress and shoes he'd just gotten that very night, it would not be too hard to catch him. But Riku was used to running by now, and Ansem… Well, he practically lived in his menagerie. How was that compared to Riku's daily amount of physical exercise?

Charging through the doors, the teenager lost his balance some on the new set of stairs presented before him and couldn't help but stumble and trip down his descent. He rolled halfway down before achieving the state of lying unmoving.

The guards—Cloud and Leon—were still on duty and began moving toward him, unsure of what they should do. They weren't used to proper ladies sprinting from the castle when a ball (of all events) was going on.

Riku swore, and damning the shoes to hell, he wrenched them off his feet and slammed them onto the steps behind him. Swiftly rising, he turned to the dark night and ran.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It wasn't long before Prince Ansem came whisking out the grand doors of the castle as well.

"MY LADY! PLEASE WAIT! MY LADY!" he hollered into the open air.

Not noticing the guards, he continued hustling down the steps, hopeful to find her. However, it was then that he stepped on a good chunk of broken glass. Jerking from the abrupt pain in his foot, he staggered and soon toppled down the stairs in a somersault fashion.

Any respect he formerly had with Cloud and Leon was now lost as they stifled their laughs, clutching their abdomens. At the prince's groan of anguish, they finally came to their senses and hurried down the steps—careful to avoid the wretchedly placed broken glass.

"Your Majesty, are you alright?" Leon inquired, unable to remove the smirk still present on his face.

"Does it look like I'm alright?" he grumbled, wincing as he attempted to stand. Both guards held him up by grabbing his armpits when he cried out from the pain racing up his legs like lightning.

Limping, the three men hobbled their way back inside the palace. Ansem cursed as he realized the humiliation this would cause him.

And the maids were going to have a fit when they saw the condition his shoes were in.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Feet rising and falling—only focused on taking the next step—and blood pounding in his ears, Riku slowed down to a jog as his sides squeezed painfully. The castle had to have been at least half a mile away by now; he was still able to see lights providing visibility for the rest of the town's party, but they were a long ways away.

He winced at each step he took. The road was gravel here, and he had no shoes now. His feet had been fine for a while, but now they were beginning to get sore. Anytime now they'd crack and start bleeding. Soon, he was walking rapidly instead of jogging. His legs exhausted, he was both relieved and encouraged when he saw his house up ahead on the hill.

Once reaching the front door, it was somewhat difficult to walk inside. With his feet steadily gaining a coat of blood on their undersides, the floor was slippery. Sliding his way into the bathroom, Riku lifted his right foot up onto the counter where he proceeded to wet a towel and clean his foot. He paid no heed to the dress he still wore—he had to take care of himself first, and it would be gone soon anyway. As soon as his foot was shiny with water, he groped around the cabinets for bandages. Coming up with a roll of a medical wrap, he wound it around and around until it was secure. After cautiously returning his right foot to the floor, he lifted his left and repeated the process.

Satisfied with his first aid treatment, he left the bathroom for his bedroom. Riku, fed up with the dress, ripped it off his body before even reaching the room. However, once there, he gladly chucked it into the pitiful fire which gobbled it up eagerly. The teenager dressed himself with his own clothes (ones that fit for the most part) happily. He painstakingly eased his feet into his own real shoes afterwards—no glass. No, these shoes—though worn—were made of sturdy leather. (Thankfully, Selphie had seen to it that at least one thing of his was of good quality.)

Then he approached the side of the fireplace. Gripping a flat stone unusually hard, he chinked at the mortar until the bricks practically fell into his lap. Riku roughly grasped the leather bag with his precious belongings stashed inside. He opened the bag one last time to stuff the snow globe and red ball inside. The locket he clicked in place around his neck. As for the wooden sword he'd valued… well, it'd only weigh him down. It was too small to be of any use except a childhood memory, and the memories weren't all that great to begin with, really. Taking it into his palms, he ran his hands gently over it, relinquishing its familiarity… before tossing it into the fire with the dress.

His hygiene items were next to be crammed into the bag. Hurrying into the kitchen, he grabbed the first food items he found and shoved them inside as well into his now bulging bag.

Wasting no more time, his mind raced if he'd forgotten anything. Selphie and her two daughters wouldn't be back for hours yet, of that he was certain, but he wanted to be as far away as possible when they arrived home.

He didn't want to return, and he most definitely did not want them to make him.

With that goal in mind, Riku escaped from the house—not once looking back. Pacing steadily, the stars above beckoned him into the dark depths of the night. Away from his family, away from the gangs, away from his life and the unfairness of it all! Riku was going to make a life for himself and no one was going to stop him.

---

"Got my things packed
My favorite pillow
Got my sleeping bag
Climb out the window
All the pictures and pain
I've left behind
All the freedom and fame
I've gotta find
And I wonder how long it'll take them
to notice that I'm gone
And I wonder how far it'll take me
to run away!"

-"Runaway" by Pink