Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I hereby present to you the sequel/epilogue to my other monster, Candy Hearts. Hoshit. This has been planned for a long, long time, but I had to finish Candy Hearts before I'd let myself work on it. Fortunately, it's been sitting there so long it took no effort to write it. Unfortunately, I'm not sure it should be allowed.

Anyway, this is for everyone who laughs in the face of others' misfortunes. Which would be everyone.

I don't own anything you recognize in here, unless it's from Candy Hearts. You DO NOT have to read that before you read this, but it might help you understand why they are where they are.

So here we are at what could probably pass for a middle-class country club, stuck together because there's safety in numbers. I'm trying not to pass out with fright and Larxene's looking pretty nervous too, though I'm not sure it's for the same reason. We're back in Traverse Town; I bet something bad is going to happen.

Well. Probably.

The halls are alive with the sound of muzak and I'm not really sure where the bride and groom are, but there are some random guests who are eyeing Larxene like predators. I feel like stepping in front of her. I mean, it's not like she can't take care of herself – and I'm the last person anyone would ask to protect them anyway – but I feel this weird possessiveness in my chest. I do nothing, because I win at suppressing my odder urges.

"Where's your dad," she asks impatiently in my ear.

"I don't know," I whisper. There's really no reason to whisper, except I feel better when there's a secret. Makes me feel all powerful, or whatever. It's pretty much stupid.

I didn't even want to go to this stupid wedding anyway, except Lisa's a nice woman and I'm sorta hoping she'll be good for my dad. Like make him care about more than his job. And Larxene wanted to see me in a suit, which actually makes me look like a long-haired effeminate dude. Because I have no curves.

She's looking sexy as always in her slinky blue dress that's just a tad bit too short for a wedding. Do I care? Hell yes, but only because I haven't seen it until today and somehow that feels like I've been ripped off. Fail. F-minus-minus. But whatever.

I recognize one of my dad's clients, which is bizarre; I mean, this guy had a really messy divorce and made my dad practically rip his hair out in aggravation. Why the hell would he be invited?

Wait, duh. His cousin in Crystal Fissure owns a limousine rental company.

I remember thinking, once, that adults are stupid. I'm an adult myself now, but I think the sentiment still applies. Adults are fucking stupid. (I don't want to grow up. I'm a Toys R Us kid, or some shit. That transfers me to an entirely different category of stupid.)

Suddenly somebody claps and then their neighbor starts clapping and oh, look, the bride and groom.

How sweet. If I get cavities, I'm suing my dad for the money. Wait, no, he's an attorney. Plus he'd give it to me anyway, out of guilt, and why am I even thinking about this? Swear to god, I'm such a freak. My brain keeps trying to run away, probably so I don't have to think about…that.

Dad and Lisa look like newlyweds. Which they are, I guess, but I mean the kind that get married young and come out of wherever they got married looking like a million bucks. Eyes like diamonds, or whatever. Dad has pretty distinct frown lines and Lisa could probably stand to lose a pound or ten, but somehow that makes it more real. I hate weddings because of this exact reason. Old people can be cute. Young people can be sweet. Middle-age people…

Okay, okay, I'm just being judgmental. Whatever. It's not like that's new or anything. Plus, I probably wouldn't care if it wasn't my dad.

Larxene's not clapping. Her arms come around my shoulders like she's protecting me, which would be sweet if that were really the case. She's not protecting me. It's more like she's using me as an excuse to keep from jumping over there and clawing his eyes out. She's not too fond of him.

Okay, it actually is sweet. She only hates him because he was a jerk to me.

Someone's saying something about moving the party to the ballroom – how posh – and I'm trying to listen, but mostly I'm just focused on her arms around me. We've been together, and I use that term very loosely, for months; and I still get lost in feeling her sometimes.

"Come on," she murmurs, and it would be sensual if she didn't sound so goddamn annoyed. That's good, because I start up on bad habits, like forgetting what I'm saying or looking nervous because I'm afraid I'll jump her then and there, when she implies things with her tone of voice.

I don't reply, just in case my voice acts up again. Her voice always makes me think of things that are not appropriate to think about at weddings. We follow the wedding party and various guests through a garish archway and into the surprisingly tasteful ballroom area. There's a table set for about twelve, probably the honored guests or some shit like that, and I know that's where I'll be sitting.

There are place settings at every seat and it only takes a second to find mine. And Larxene's. I don't even bother to hide my amused smile as I pull out the chair and say, "Glad you could join us, Plus One."

She snorts, which is very unladylike and also completely normal for her, and says, "Thanks for inviting me, sir."

This is normal for us. She teases me about pretty much everything, even stuff that may not apply, and I only retaliate when I have something really good to say. That doesn't actually happen very often, because I usually end up watching her mouth. I shrug and sit next to her.

Leaning close to her, I ask, "Who's sitting next to you?"

"Roxas," she tells me. "The next one over says Axel, but you never know, he might bring Lea. Whoever Axel decides to be today. God, that guy annoys me."

"Don't be so hard on him; he's just a little confused," I say. I'm sorta making fun of him. This is also nothing new.

"Whatever. I'd be more worried about who's sitting next to you."

Yeah, I haven't even looked. I'm always worried about who's going to ogle my girlfriend, because I know I'm not that attractive and one of these days she could up and leave me for someone better. Not that I'm expecting her to find someone in the World that Never Was, but still. It's a fear.

I look at the tag next to mine and –

Oh, come on. Who the hell did the organizing here?

She walks up from behind me and takes her seat. "Hello, Naminé. How have you been?"

Great. Just great. All this time apart, and her voice still hasn't gotten any less irritating.

Fucking Justine.