I AM NOT ABANDONING USO.
NOTNOTNOT.
I just hit a bit of a block. So, I write this now instead. Evil plot bunnies...
ANYWAYS, some friends of mine will be appearing here. Hell, they might even write a chapter in their POV every once in a while. And I am not using their real names, of course. That would be dumb.
And of course I HAD to write something for Kingdom Hearts. Onii-chan had me play the second one and I liked it and... yeah. A certain anonymous reviewer from Uso should be very happy about this. XD
Be warned, there are many swear words.
So I'll go ahead and start now. Yeah.
-I dedicate this first chapter to Newbie-Spud, whose awesome-ness I will never reach.
Readers... READ The Interference. NOW.
Reversed Reality
Chapter One
Crumble
Reality. Simple, clear, in plain sight. What is accepted as "logical", and "normal", when under any other circumstances it would not be so.
What proof do we have that our reality is not under those circumstances? What if, by chance, all we knew was a lie? And if it was, how could we verify what the truth was when we ourselves are part of that lie, that long-standing deception?
And what if what was regarded as "fantasy" was more realistic than our reality?
The possibilities are endless. In this reversed reality, the answers may one day be in sight although they are forever beyond our grasp. The cold, brutal truth: "reality" may in fact be far too complex for human beings to ever understand.
That does not mean that none of them have tried.
It was an ordinary September day- birds chirping, dogs barking, and that one girl frantically pedaling a purple, silly string-streaked mountain bike down the sidewalk.
Yeah, that one girl was me.
"SHIT! SHITSHITSHIT!" I swore, picking up speed and nearly running over a suicidal squirrel. "I'm gonna get caught and Mom's gonna kill me and SHIT!" I leaned to the left as I turned at unsafe speed and pedaled harder for the sake of getting away from the city before my mother caught me.
See, I wasn't allowed to ride my bike out that far by myself. We live about two miles past city limits and Mom is paranoid and I don't really need the exercise seeing as I'm forty fucking pounds underweight. Dammit.
Normally getting caught wasn't an issue; then I remembered that Mom would be going shopping that day, and if she were to see me riding my bike around town by myself close to Wal-Mart... I would never see the light of day again.
The thrill of riding a bike around the city and getting weird looks from fat people in cars made the risk more than worth it, though. That, and the weird look I get from the guy at the drive through... I THRIVE on the disapproval of others, what can I say?
"Augh, dammit..." I muttered as I came to a spot where I had to cross the street. Motorists in my town have a habit of scaring the crap out of me by acting like they're about to splatter me into the pavement. A few of them have come close.
Of course, I managed to get across without even seeing a car, but I was in too much of a hurry to celebrate. I REALLY didn't want to get caught, dears. When my mom gets mad, she could unscramble an egg. She could kick the shit out of Chuck Norris. She beat an evil dog half to death with a brick.
Imagine being raised by a woman like that. She is strict, but she says I'll thank her for it someday. Tch... "Mom, thank you for striking fear into my heart for eighteen years."
I am only sixteen now, but... yeah, you get the point. My life is NOT a big dark abyss, however; I have video games and anime and granola bars and my kitty named Ta-kun. All I have to do now is mug Chiikaku for her METAL Keyblade replica...
Yes, I am a Kingdom Hearts fan. It has Disney. It made Disney epic. Everyone agrees; that fat guy on that motor scooter, the dog lady across the street, and the people in that little black Jeep-
OH SHIT.
"AAUUUGHH!" I swerved wildly and dove into a bush as my mother's car whooshed on by. I held my breath, hoping she wouldn't recognize my bike and kept visualizing the car swerving wildly and rushing back towards me to deliver my doom.
Past the stoplight... past the pawn shop... GONE.
"Holy FUCK, that was close..." I sighed wearily, leaning back and looking up at the sky. "Shit, man, I hope I don't get caught... have to haul ass..." I got up, brushed myself off, mounted my bike, then started pedaling frantically once again.
It may amuse you that I am so afraid of my mother, but seriously, she is fucking scary when angry. She could make Sephiroth piss himself.
And then I wrecked my bike since I started laughing hysterically at that mental image. Oh my imaginary GAWD... I could just imagine the reactions of the Final Fantasy VII characters even as I tried to get up and mount my bike again. I noticed, vaguely, after my giggling fit, that I had skinned both my knees during the crash and skidding across pavement thing.
THAT, dears, is the major disadvantage to being an airhead.
"Well THAT was random..." I snorted to myself, mounting and speeding off again. "Okay, T-chan, focus on the road..." I shook my head a little and picked up speed, hurrying on down the sidewalk and thanking the lazy people in my town that never use the sidewalks because no one ever walks. ANYWHERE. No one ever rides bikes, either... except for me. And my dad on occasion.
A wild, unsafe turn, a muttered swear word, and the unwelcome sight of a stormy sky. The daylight being suddenly snuffed out by the oppressive clouds overhead. The obvious warning signs being blatantly ignored as I focused on speed and nothing else, not even caring as I took turns too sharp and almost ended up smeared on the pavement.
I didn't stop again until I got to the bullet-riddled stop sign; the safe haven. I was allowed to roam to that point... if Mom saw me there or closer to home, she wouldn't care. So then I finally noticed that I was close to suffocating and wisely decided to stop for a rest.
"Crap, Mom's probably gonna get mad anyway... it's looking all stormy and I'm not indoors, geez..." I grumbled breathlessly, dismounting from my bike and not even bothering with the kickstand. "Honestly, I understand some of her rules, but FUCK. I'm a TEENAGER, dammit... toss me a freakin' bone, woman... SOME FREEDOM PLEASE..."
Two steps, bike falling over, feet sinking.
I looked down to see that I was knee-high in... blackness.
WHAT.
THE.
FUCK.
Sinking more. Up to waist in the inky black abyss. "Oh my imaginary gawd."
Sinking more. Up to shoulders in blackness now. "No way..."
SINKINGSINKINGSINKINGSINKING- "SON OF A-" SINKINGSINKING ALL BLACK.
"Ugghh... what the hell...?" I warily opened one eye to have it assaulted by wind and small irritating particles. Grimacing at the sudden and very persistent discomfort, I cautiously opened my other eye and tried to move-
ARGH BODY WEIRD HEAVY FEELING ARGH.
"SUNUVA BITCH," I swore, grimacing again as I slowly sat up. "Okay, first things first... where am I?" I asked the empty air, cautiously swiveling my head. I hissed in pain as my hands contacted sand. Very, very, VERY coarse sand. It felt much more like gravel, but it had the consistency of sand. I scooped up a handful of said sand and examined it briefly with a critical look.
"Okay, I know I'm morbid, but COME ON. Black sand? Really?" I shook my head and let the sand slide between my fingers. At this point, I dragged myself to my feet and examined my surroundings with a rising feeling of unease.
A wide expanse of black sand that spread to a seemingly nonexistent horizon, and nothing else. The sky, I noted, looking up and cringing when my neck popped, was a lovely shade of crimson. The moons (yes, moons. I spotted five) were vaguely shaped like skulls. They even had craters resembling eye sockets.
"What. The. Hell," I asked the air with false neutrality. "This is NOT a cool dream. AT ALL." I vaguely remembered that feeling pain in dreams was impossible, but dismissed the thought. Probably feeling the pain of a classic bike wreck. The dark sinking-ness was the beginning of the dream, enough said... I cringed at a strange screeching sound behind me and whirled around. Seeing nothing, I shrugged, turned back around, and took one bold step forward.
At that moment, a huge ass... THING plunged from the crimson sky and landed RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME.
My clever response?
"HOLY FEATHERED FLYING MOTHER FUCK!" I didn't even take a second to examine the thing as I turned tail and RAN as fast as I could. I paled and swore when I heard loud, repetitive THUD noises behind me; I was almost certainly being followed. I swear, if I get done in by that damn tripping cliche I WILL HAVE BLOOD. I WILL HAUNT THIS THING UNTIL IT COMMITS SUICIDE.
Good news: I didn't trip.
Bad news: Something wrapped around my middle and lifted me up.
Worse news: I was face-to-face with the... thing in moments. I finally took the time to examine it as a kind of forlorn curiosity. I'm screwed, I'm screwed, but just for kicks let's look at the thing that's gonna... kinda.. KILL ME...
It was like an enormous mannequin. I glared hopelessly back at an expressionless face: the thing had no nose, mouth, or anything; only two beady, glowing yellow eyes. It had huge pincer-like hands with absurdly long claws, a surprisingly slim and fragile looking abdomen, very very very VERY long legs that resembled those of a dog, enormous bat-like wings, and an absurdly long tail. The entire figure's flesh was an abysmal black color.
In short, it was a giant Chuck Norris Heartless thing. On crack. I briefly thought back to fighting the Darkside in Kingdom Hearts. I sniggered, doubting that repeatedly attacking this thing's right hand would miraculously kill it.
Strange what one thinks about when they hover at death's door. Then again, this whole thing was just a dream... an irrational, realistic dream... maybe if I let the thing eat me, I'd finally wake up...
"DON'T YOU DARE GIVE UP, YOU BINT!"
Why the hell is there a British voice calling me a bint? I wondered blearily as the thing started slowly squeezing the life out of me. Why not just 'Yank' since I'm so obviously American...? I didn't feel panicked at the sudden loss of the ability to breathe; instead of that I grimaced and willed for the dream to end.
"Ugh, dammit!" There was a strange 'shing' sound, and the thing- Ah, screw it. It's the Mannequin Heartless now. My dream, I can name things what I want. -the Mannequin Heartless tore its attention away from me and focused on something behind me and slightly to the left. It subconsciously loosened its grip, and I took a few deep breaths immediately.
"I... really... wanna wake up..." I gasped. The British voice behind me apparently leaped HIGH into the air, because the Mannequin Heartless looked up suddenly.
"Eat THIS!" A guitar with a long blade protruding from the end suddenly punctured the Heartless's skull; it immediately screeched in agony (How can it screech with no mouth?) and dropped me. I landed on the coarse sand with an undignified "oof!" and the owner of the British voice landed behind me on her (female voice!) feet like a cat.
The Heartless collapsed, then vanished in a black mist that almost blended in with the sand. I sighed in relief, then swore when something very HARD slammed into the back of my head.
"You BLOODY IDIOT, what the hell were you thinking? What am I supposed to do if you die, huh?"
"It's... a dream..." I grunted between hisses of pain. "A very realistic... dream..."
"...Well, you're half right. It is a dream, but at the same time it is not."
"Since when do British people spout random nonsense...?" I asked the air, still rubbing my head.
"'Random nonsense', you say? Rubbish!" The owner of the voice grabbed me by the elbow and hauled me to my feet. "You're the one spouting nonsense! I'm not even British!"
"Then explain the accent!"
"I don't bloody well know! But I do know that I can't possibly be British because YOU'RE not!" I whirled around at this, yelling:
"What the hell, was that supposed to make sense? What do I have to do with..." I trailed off as I finally laid eyes on the girl who had just saved my ass... But really, I focused more on her weapon. It was a guitar with a basic black body finish. The neck was solid metal, which was really strange. The lack of tuning knobs and strings made it even stranger. THEN there was the blade sticking out of the bottom of said guitar.
I knew that guitar. I knew it VERY well.
"What... what the hell..." I choked. "HAMMERSPACE? But... what the HELL, I haven't draw any High School Horror in over a YEAR! Why would I dream about a British kid wielding freaking HAMMERSPACE?"
"Well. You decided with Onii-chan's name for it after all," the British girl noted calmly, despite my pointless yelling. "Yes, this is Hammerspace. The weapon you designed." The girl inclined her head slightly. "Now... do you know who I am yet?" I examined the girl with one eyebrow raised. Weird clothes, two low pigtails, reminded me of my UTAU, Shijimi, minus the fact that they were... poofy. For lack of a better word. The girl looked VERY vaguely familiar, but no name came to mind. I doubted I ever could have met a girl like that, anyway; I would've remembered her accent if not her hair.
"I have no bloody idea who you are, or how you know Onii-chan!" I protested. "Hell, why do you even HAVE Hammerspace?"
"Calm down, then I'll explain." The British girl held up her left hand (her right has gripping Hammerspace, which was rested upon her shoulder.) "Firstly. I am the spirit of Hammerspace. I currently do not have a name, and at the moment I couldn't care less."
"The... spirit... of Hammerspace?" I repeated slowly. "What the hell is this, Bleach?"
"SECONDLY," the girl continued loudly. "I know Onii-chan because you know him. I know everything you know... and more."
"And THAT'S not arrogant at all..."
"THIRDLY, I have Hammerspace because I haven't been able to deliver it yet. On that thought, here," the British girl shoved Hammerspace at me; I cautiously grabbed it and hugged it like it was my firstborn. The British girl gave me a kind of disturbed look, but shook her head and continued. "Any more questions, Temari?" She even knows my alias. Convenient if not disturbing.
"...Hearing that in a British accent is odd..." I muttered. "Yeah, uh, is this really Hammerspace? Twenty concealed weapons and all?"
"Of course, you nitwit. Why wouldn't it be?"
"Dreams are never that convenient. Bleh." I shrugged my shoulders and loosened my grip on Hammerspace slightly. "Where are we exactly?"
"This," the British girl started, spreading her arms and spinning around a little. "THIS... is your heart, Temari. In a way." She stopped spinning when I gave her the weirdest look I could ever manage. "Well, kinda. You certainly aren't ready for an Awakening, so this'll have to do."
"...Just what the hell was that THING doing in my heart?" I asked shrilly. The British girl merely rolled her eyes.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic. You know as well as I do that there's darkness in every heart. You can plainly see it now." The British girl extended a hand toward Hammerspace. "And Hammerspace proves it further. The twenty weapons that are concealed within... they each represent one of your heart's greatest flaws. Such as the simple blade. It represents your doubt."
"Doubt, huh... figures." I took a moment to remember the controls I had thought up for Hammerspace; I twisted the neck counterclockwise and the blade instantly retracted.
"Good, you remember. How do you take the safety off?" I hit a small switch close to where the neck meets the body. "Very good. You're not a complete loss."
"What does everything else represent, anyway?" I asked quietly.
"Psh, I don't have the bloody time to tell you all that." The British girl crossed her arms and gave me a serious look. "You're probably bloody better off not knowing anyway. Sure, you take criticism surprisingly well, but if you were to realize... ugh, never mind."
"Realize wha-"
"I SAID never mind. Anyway, you'll be waking up soon. Just... keep your head, all right? You have a lot of work to do if you ever want your life back," The British girl sighed, rolling her shoulders. "I'll always be here. Just ask me for help if you need it. Controls, enemy weaknesses, you name it." The British girl inclined her head. "I thought you'd convinced yourself that this is all fake. Changed your mind, did you?"
"No. The best way to handle dreams like this is to pretend they're real..." I replied with a sigh. Then, my eye twitched. "Wait. Work to do? Enemy wea- what? Hey, wait a minute! What kind of work are we talking about here?" I asked loudly, swinging Hammerspace in a horizontal arc for emphasis. The British girl merely laughed a little and grinned somewhat evilly.
"Oh, you know, saving the world and all that jazz," she replied airily, waving a hand.
"SAVING THE WORLD? HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO SAVE THE WORLD? I WALK INTO WALLS, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" I screamed as Hammerspace fell from my hand into the black sand below. My shouting only seemed to amuse the girl in front of me.
"Well, we'll just have to work on that, now won't we?" The British girl offered me a slightly sadistic grin. "Don't fret your empty head, little Temari; you'll have plenty of time to prepare for what's to come." The world around me started to spin and I fell to my knees, suddenly weak with nausea. Then, the British girl's sadistic grin widened as she waved at me a little and the world abruptly faded to black.
And that's (the short) chapter one.
Okay. The story title is cheesy, I know... (shot)
About that stuff at the beginning. I spend a lot of time alone and think about the weirdest shit. Such as... that. It's a nice creepy way to start a story, ne? XD
And I love riding my bike around town. It's so much fucking fun. Fat people in cars hate me for it, too. XD
Yes, my friend has a perfect replica Keyblade that is metal. She bought it from some random guy for... what, $120? If even that much. It even came with Sora's necklace.
Why is this set in September when I posted this in January?... I've been procrastinating, and rewriting, and procrastinating some more. Nyeeehh.
And lots of swearing. I actually do swear a lot when angry, scared, or frustrated. It must be from Mom's side, because she does that too. Sorry if that offends you dearies.
The British slang word "bint" is basically (from what I've read) calling a girl a whore. I might be wrong about the meaning, but I'm pretty sure the term is some kind of feminine insult. Ask a British person. They're amazing. EVERYONE WANTS A BRITISH ACCENT, DON'T EVEN DENY IT. And I know British people don't say 'bloody' as much as the 'British girl' does, but I'm trying to emphasize the fact that she sounds British. Hence me utilizing my meager knowledge of British slang.
And I'ma done rambling. Just wait... I'll have my friends contribute to this too. ^ ^ Until next time, dears!
-Temari Haruhara
