Misplaced is a Riku one shot based on the song "September" by Daughtry, written as a birthday present for one of my friends. The story is set in a somewhat alternate timeline, where Riku grew up in Twilight Town rather than Destiny Island, and, since I never actually played the Kingdom Hearts series and my information is all second hand, forgive me if he's a little out of character. I've done my best with another friend checking me, but no one's perfect. I own nothing but the imaginary plot scene here-all Kingdom Hearts' characters, locales, and references belong to the Walt Disney company, and my friend, of course, is her own self; silly little truffles, I can't own her~
Italics are memories/flashbacks~ I hope you all enjoy, especially you, Alex!
|| Happy Birthday Alex! ||
A good friend is never lost—they are only misplaced.
Brilliantly colored leaves, a gilded dress flung off the trees, rolled down the empty street like dancing flames. Their crisp sound echoed around the town, even reaching up to the open balcony of the clock tower. A teenage girl, old enough to even be called a young woman, leaned out over the edge, smiling quietly at the sleepy town. The twilight beheld her as an elegant faerie, the moonlight shining among her medium length brown tresses as if she had pulled it from the horizon. She inhaled the early night and shut her eyes, releasing the sweet autumnal scents with a sigh.
"Just like all those years before," she murmured, "but it's still just…missing something."
Her voice took on a sad tone as she stepped away from the edge, shaking her head. Dropping down to the floor with her back to the balcony, she picked up a slender sketchbook laid down in a shaft of pale moonlight. As she placed it in her lap and took up her pencil, the pages opened quietly to an unfinished picture, a handsome boy smiling up from the page. Her eyes scanned the familiar personage, the mischievous eyes, the charming grin, the long, smooth, white hair with wispy bangs always falling in his face.
She stared at it for a moment before leaning forward and continuing to shade in the details, ever light, every shadow perfect; they'd never gone away, as if the years had only etched them deeper.
"Maybe someone," she mumbled quietly.
"Whoo! Haha!"
A splash resounded around the woods as he vaulted into the lake, a squeal following.
"Riku!"
The young boy laughed as he surfaced, grinning at the girl on shore. She was ringing out the skirt on her red bathing suit, her chocolate brown hair plastered to her head thanks to the water now dripping from her slender form. Her childish pout only made him laugh harder, but he soon relented, swimming back to her. Holding his loose black swim trunks to his lean frame, he shook away some of the water, padding across the sand to her. His bare feet left damp footprints in the cold sand, sprinkled with droplets falling from his silver hair.
"Alex?" he mumbled, green eyes searching for hers beseechingly, "I'm sorry for splashing you."
He spoke with childish earnestness, genuinely sorry for upsetting his friend. She looked up at him, the height difference only a few inches, still pouting for an instant. A wavering smile flitted between them and they were falling back to the grass just beyond the sandy shore, laughing and giggling.
The ever setting sun cast chill shadows over the two, dividing them with a sliver of darkness. The more light fell on the young girl, warm and golden, while the gloomy and grey shadows wrapped the boy in their embrace. His sea green eyes still smiled back at her from the darkness, but the separation unsettled her five-year-old heart. Holding out her arm, she grasped his wrist and tugged.
"What are you doing?"
"Come over here; in the light!" she pleaded, still struggling faintly against his resistance.
He blinked once before scooting over.
"Okay?"
Shadows still clung to him, and her lip trembled in a pout. She shook her head and hugged him about his slender ribcage. His face twisted in the characteristically boyish frown, and he squirmed a little.
"You're acting weird, Alex," he muttered, his cheeks flushing pink. "G-get off."
"I'm just worried, you jerk!" Her feelings hurt; she pushed him away and scrambled to her feet. His blush deepened in shame, but she wouldn't listen as he tried to speak. "I'm going home."
Rubbing her eyes, she turned and walked back through the surrounding woods towards the town. He ran after her, as if knowing one would be lost without the other, calling her name.
"Wait," he mumbled, taking her hand as she'd taken his. "I'm sorry."
"You don't act like it, Riku," she accused, obviously upset now. "You say sorry, then you mess up again."
The six-year-old paused, looking at his friend with that blank, curious look again. He never let go of her hand, watching as she sniffled and tried not to cry.
"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Alex," he finally whispered. "I'll try not to do it again. Don't cry…" An incredibly tender moment, he hugged her and tried to clumsily wipe away her bubbling tears. "Don't cry, a-and don't leave alone. I'll go with you."
Gentle and protective, he waited until she took the first step, and walked beside her through the woods. The sunshine at their backs strayed along with them like a lost friend, holding to the young girl's hand opposite the boy, the promise of summer wandering with them from their secret place. Their footprints remained only briefly in the sand as they left them behind.
As the clock struck out the hour, she lifted her head with a blink. Eleven bells chimed in harmony as the sun dipped just a little lower below the horizon, and she stood with a sigh. Stifling a quiet yawn, she tucked her sketchpad under her arm and stretched. She glanced at the town from her high vantage point a last time before descending the internal staircase of the clock tower.
Scarlet and gold leaves cartwheeled across her white sneakers as she descended the concrete steps outside the tower. She tugged her black jacket tighter about her shoulders as the wind playfully pulled at her hair. With a shiver, she turned down the street, the wind at her back, and began to walk home. Wind chimes rang out their mélange of melodies as zephyrs danced through them and down the street, joining innocuous games of tag and daring each other to catch up. She couldn't help but laugh as she passed the town square, the fountain set in the center of a golden mosaic made from smooth stone slabs, watching the leaves prance around the fountain's edge like children running. Her soft smile faded at the thought, the shine in her eyes lessening to a mere glaze as a similar, yet all together different, scene played out in her mind's eye.
Rain was falling gently in Twilight Town, and shriek accompanied laughter pealed out through the damp, sweet-scented air. From behind their windows, a few blurry citizens watched the two children with amusement, smiling knowingly as the young boy and girl chased each other round and round the stone fountain, dancing through the downpour. The boy was no older than eleven, the girl no younger than ten, and both perhaps somewhere in the middle. His hair was medium length at his chin, but getting longer, and of an unusual silver color. Hers was a warm chocolate brown, darkened by the rain, and reached just past her shoulders; it matched her eyes. His eyes were a soft mint green. He would grab her hand every once and a while as they ran, spinning her around so her long red coat would flare out like a ballroom gown and catching her before she'd hit the ground. She would yelp in delight as he spun her, and laugh when he caught her, giggling.
After several more rounds about the square, they sat down on the edge of the fountain, their soaked clothing clinging to their lean frames and making it difficult to breathe. Breathless, they barely stifled their laughter, and looked at each other with quiet smiles. She braced herself against the chill stonework with her palms, leaning back to look at the sky while whispering something softly to him.
"I'm glad you're here, Riku…"
He looked at her for a moment before looking up at the sky and leaning back as she had done.
"I'm glad you are too, Alex," he finally mumbled.
In the midst of the intermediate span of silence, she broke her gaze from the cloudy sky to look at her friend. Curiosity sparkled in her eyes as she leaned over and shyly pecked his lips. She pulled away quickly with a faint, childlike blush on her cheeks, avoiding his stare as he sat up sharply. His eyes were questioning, and his brows were furrowed as he watched her quizzically. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, but no sound ever came out.
"We should get home," he eventually said, simply standing and offering her his hand.
Nodding, she took the proffered grasp and was lifted to her feet by his strong grip on her wrist. Though he retained his insouciance, he kept his fingers wrapped gently around her hand as he walked ahead of her down the street. She smiled quietly, her cheeks still warm, and gladly followed.
She stared at the fountain for a moment before shaking her head, a tad forcefully, and continuing on her way. Plain beige and white buildings, illuminated in a warm golden glow, passed her by as she hurried down the cobblestone lanes, twisting past manicured lawns and counterfeit settings of happiness. Her footfalls slowed as she turned down her street, and slowed to a stop as she faced a small house that stood out from the rest. Petite and bright red amidst a whitewashed wall of tall buildings, it stood before a slightly less manicured but no less pretty yard. An oak tree stood at the corner of the yard, dropping colorful leaves which had since been scattered around the town and blanketing the lush carpet of grass. From one of its branches hung a pair of thick ropes and a wooden board, the sum of which served as a swing.
After observing the swing swaying in the wind for a few moments, she opened the front gate and slipped up the walk, gracefully hopping up the wooden steps and crossing the white wraparound porch. The front door opened with a click of the lock, and warm lights flickered on as she entered the quaint home. Her sketchbook, keys, and backpack took simultaneous places on the table by the door, joined shortly by her shoes and jacket.
Rubbing at her eyes, she made her way to the back of the house, taking a well-used apron off its hook as she entered the medium sized kitchen. The house filled with the clamoring echoes of cupboards and drawers opening and closing, utensils chinking together, and the occasional beep from the oven or microwave. Soft footfalls accompanied the fuss in the form of timed out pacing as she mixed the ingredients of various recipes.
Within half an hour of her entering the house, mouthwatering scents of an assortment of baked sweets permeated the air. After two hours, heat was swimming about the air, making wisps her hair, fallen out of the recent ponytail she'd put it in, stick to her forehead. Flour was caked on her hands and powdered over her apron, and there was a smear of cream-colored batter on the tip of her nose. Already piled upon the stove were several kinds of cookies, two different types of muffins, and a batch of cupcakes, fresh out of the oven.
She turned to the window over the sink—sleeves rolled up to her elbows in preparation to open the small portal to the backyard—but paused as a single glitter of gold caught her eye. In the peculiar way of windows to show a reflection when the surroundings beyond it are dark, she saw herself in the glass, and particularly a simple chain about her neck. From the chain hung a miniature keyblade, plain with a gold handle, silver blade, and decorated only by the presence of a golden charm in the trademark shape of Mickey's head. It rested center place on her collarbone, suddenly growing chill and heavy upon the bare skin.
She was fourteen when he disappeared. They'd had a mild argument the day before, and then he'd simply…disappeared.
Sitting on her bed, she looked blankly at the folded piece of notebook paper she'd found by her bedside just that morning. A thin chain hung from her white, bloodless fingers as they struggled to keep a hold on the paper without crumpling it. Neat, albeit boyish, handwriting was scribbled across the page—rushed, but readable—and her coffee-colored eyes seemed to lose their warmth as they scanned the message.
I can't say why, and I can't tell you when I'll be back, but I have to go, Alex. I'm sorry, but I promise—I'll come back some day. I hope you can forgive me.
-Riku
P.S. Happy Birthday…
Once read, she set aside the note and looked at the chain coiled in her hand. Its chill metal length stung like tears, which, oddly enough, had not yet begun to fall from her eyes. Resting atop the chain was the delicately crafted model of a keyblade, shining faintly as sunlight fell across its silver and gold segments. She stared blankly at it for a while before tucking it and the now-folded letter into her pocket. Rubbing her eyes once, she glanced into the mirror, formulating excuses for the faint, dark circles under her eyes. With a numb smile, she pulled on her jacket, and walked quietly out of her room.
"Always the same," she whispered on her way out, "saying sorry then screwing up right after it."
"Tch…The birthday girl, baking on her own birthday? Something about that seems wrong."
With a gasp, she jolted out of her memories, eyes wide as she stared at the reflection before her, hand still clenched at the wooden sill. Ethereal, as if he was standing both outside beyond the glass, and simultaneously in her kitchen, she found the vision of a handsome young man, perhaps a year older than her, leaning in the doorway. His strong arms were crossed over his well-formed chest, and his emerald eyes shone with delight. Dressed in a worn pair of jeans, a white t-shirt, and a simple black jacket, he cut a figure both similar and yet altogether different from the one in her memories.
"Although, you did like to bake when you were upset, didn't you?" he mused, uncrossing his arms and walking over to the stove. "With all the worrying I gave you," he murmured as he took a bite out of a cookie he'd picked up, "I think I've possibly made you the most amazing cook in the world, Alex."
For a moment, while he stood and nonchalantly wolfed down the sweet in his hand, she simply paused and stared at him. His cool green eyes held her bewildered gaze calmly, and an arrogant smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. Upon finishing, he took a single stride towards her, crossing half the length of the kitchen in just that one movement, and held out his arms.
"What…no hug?" he whispered.
In a flurry of motion, he found his arms filled by her slender form as she squeaked his name.
"Riku!"
He laughed warmly, catching her carefully and hugging her tightly. With her face pressed to his chest, he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled, chuckling softly.
"Been awhile, huh…?" Balling her hands up in his jacket, she mumbled something unintelligible against his shirt, stomping her foot. He lifted her chin up to smile at her, that ceaselessly mischievous grin. "What was that?"
"I said," she said softly, "that you're still a jerk. You always say sorry, but then you screw up again right afterwards!"
"Hey…," he whispered, leaning down with a gentler smile, "I came back, didn't I? I know I screwed up pretty bad—I'm surprised you haven't hit me yet—but I promised I'd come back, and I did." He sealed his apology with a tender kiss, cradling her to his chest. "Forgive me?"
"F-forgiven," she managed to stutter, warmth crawling up her cheeks in the form of a pink flush. "Completely…forgiven."