A/N: Originally written for the Tumblr KH Worlds Connected Big Bang, I didn't quite make it in by the deadline (or under the word count limit either, for that matter). Better late than never?
SoRoku is a ship I've never written before, and I'm not sure if this fic even counts as a genuine pairing of the two, considering my penchant for slow-build relationships and the fact that anything romantic is more implied than explicit. This is more accurately a story about growing up, and about growing apart, with a smidge of first-time parenting angst thrown in for good measure. Onward.
Two minutes could be a lifetime. This Roxas knew with unwavering certainty. He was less sure whether such knowledge constituted a positive or negative, although he suspected it probably depended on the circumstances.
The din that filtered into his double occupancy dorm room via a door his mother had just opened was a more immediate concern. It filled him with equal amounts excitement and dread, although he was willing to admit that his mom's action may have been the more direct catalyst.
Halfway between both twin beds and the exit, his dad paused, said something Roxas didn't totally hear over the move-in day clamor. Then he too turned toward the door, and an already delicate mental balance shifted between competing emotions, dread now the frontrunner.
"Wait."
The word was out of his mouth before Roxas had time to think about it. His parents stopped, then turned back to him. The looks they both offered mimicked identical parental empathy that Roxas found unforgivable and patronizing.
Because he wasn't scared of being left alone, he told himself as the passing seconds turned into a minute that felt anything but extended. Not scared. Just annoyed—about every little aspect of this day that he'd been looking forward to since he'd gotten notice of his acceptance to college in the first place.
Readjusting her purse higher onto her shoulder, his mom clicked on her phone, eyes scanning the digital clock before looking back over at him.
"We'd love to stay longer, sweetie, but time's almost up on the parking meter, and we still need to get across the bridge to pick up your brother before traffic gets heavier."
His dad nodded.
"It shouldn't take too long. Then we can all meet up for dinner before your father and I drive home." His mother rushed on, glancing over to his dad as though looking for backup. When none was forthcoming, she forged on with a look of forced optimism. "One last meal together before both our boys start college. Won't that be nice?"
Yeah, not really.
Roxas kept the thought to himself. Any more protests on his end and he'd give away just how much this entire situation was getting to him. He dropped his eyes and studied the pattern in his room's industrial carpet flooring, and didn't look up until he was positive both parents were out the door and well on their way down the dorm's hallway.
They'd left the door open a crack, probably with the aim of fostering residence hall friendships. In a handful of brisk steps, Roxas made his way over and pushed it shut. Keeping it unlocked was his sole compromise. If someone wanted to talk, they could come to him.
He doubted anyone would. Most people seemed to know each other already. On this particular floor, it seemed like he was the odd freshman out among a majority of sophomores and upperclassmen. Just his luck.
Or, another thought: his roommate could've just bothered to show up on time. Then he'd be leaving with both parents, heading to Ven's dorm across campus, and looking forward to dinner (well, kind of; at this point, he wasn't above lying to himself). Instead, his parents wanted him to stay and meet his roommate, all so he could introduce himself to someone he didn't give two shits about.
He retraced his steps, past a door into a shared space that housed a small sink with a few wall shelves on either side for toiletries. He kept going, beyond the bed on the left side of the room that he'd claimed for himself. Two desks were arranged side-by-side in front of a wide picture window that overlooked the river that divided campus into east and west banks. Not wanting to speculate about what his brother was doing in his own dorm, Roxas pulled closed the thick curtain and made a grab for the desk chair closest to his bed. He dropped into it, shoulders hunched, back bowed forward. Sliding his phone out of one denim pocket, he checked the new notifications from his lock screen, noting with rising frustration that none of them were from Ventus.
Suppressing a sigh, he placed the phone on his desk face-down, and tried to focus on something else. His mind kept circling right back to one, recurring thought:
College was supposed to be a lot of things, full of possibilities, new friends and experiences. Something of that nature. Or whatever. But he'd assumed he'd be tackling this all with his brother. It was how they'd handled everything else growing up. They weren't supposed to be assigned different rooms, let alone completely different residence halls, separated by concrete walkways, a labyrinth of school buildings, even the yawning divide of the entire Mississippi River.
Their class schedules also weren't identical, even though they were taking most of the same prerequisites. Everything they'd planned had been foiled during summer orientation, plus a few less than stellar grades earned during his junior year of high school that'd kept him from being accepted as an honors student, if Roxas was willing to be honest.
Worse still, this unexpected change of plans seemed to be bothering him a lot more than it was Ven.
A swell of vocals outside his door set Roxas grinding his back teeth together. He eyed his door with a grim expression, swallowing thickly as his shoulders tensed.
A minute passed, then another, before those specific voices dwindled. Glancing over at his phone, Roxas fought the urge to reach for it and text his brother. It was already set to vibrate, and his parents would give him plenty of warning before they made the trip back over the bridge and located a place to eat closer to him. Nothing new had been sent, not from his parents, and especially not from Ven. The last thing Roxas wanted was to look like a bad sport—or be seen as just plain needy when they'd been apart all of a few hours at this point.
His eyes made a circuit of the room, for lack of anything better to do, from the empty side his roommate would get and back to his half of the space that was marginally more personalized. There wasn't much to look at, beyond a new set of bed sheets, a standing wardrobe he'd already filled with an assortment of clothing, and a bookcase displaying the spines of his Fall semester hard-bounds. Nothing notable.
Just the same, Roxas studied each textbook with unnecessary scrutiny, from a red and gray Economics book to one that was blue and purple and in some way meant to represent Chemistry. He still didn't know exactly what he wanted to major in, had more or less just agreed to every class his advisor had suggested. With so many required courses to take, he figured he had some time before he had to settle on anything.
He must've gotten lost in thought, or else the door opened more forcefully than he'd been expecting. In any event, Roxas flinched as the door to his room flew open. A second later, he was gifted with a fringe of plum-red hair and the narrowed eyes of a girl whose expression smacked of exasperation.
It took a second more to realize the look wasn't meant for him. The girl's features softened as she eyed him, then reverted back to their prior annoyance just before she turned and craned her neck back in the direction of the hallway.
"Sora, c'mon. I don't have all day to help you with this. There'll be plenty of time to catch up with everyone after we drop off your stuff."
There was no way to know if she'd received a response amid the cacophony of noise filtering in from the hall. Whatever the case, the girl turned back to him. Under her appraising gaze, Roxas found himself sitting up a little straighter.
"What's your name?"
It was posed less as a question, more an impatient demand. Roxas answered her with a nervous stammer.
If the girl noticed, she didn't comment, just nodded before skirting back out the door, her voice growing fainter but still audible the next time she spoke.
"Hurry up. Roxas is already here, Riku's going to text any minute, and it might be nice to ge…"
The rest of her words were too muffled to hear. Roxas made a grab for his phone, even though he knew there'd been no new messages in the interim.
The sudden thud of metal against wood interrupted his motion. His eyes moved to the open door, hand hovering midway between the desk and his lap as someone new entered.
In hindsight, 'entered' wasn't the right word for what the guy'd done. More accurately, he'd burst through the entry, one arm waving a premature greeting, the other pulling one of the dorm's large moving bins along behind him. His navigational skills left a lot to be desired, Roxas noted, as he watched the bin make another abrupt collision against a corner of the door frame.
"Careful! They'll charge you if you break something."
"Got it, Mom."
With a good-natured roll of his eyes, the guy rolled his moving bin into the room. He leaned forward, then straightened with an armful of blankets, which he dropped without fanfare onto the bed Roxas had left for him.
"Hey, so! It's Roxas, right? Looks like you beat me."
He offered a lopsided grin, and Roxas took a moment to summon the name listed on the email the school had sent out listing his roommate details earlier that summer. This time, it was the girl who rolled her eyes.
"Of course he did." Her hands moved up to her hips as the look of exasperation reappeared. "You spent so long at the rink it's practically time for dinner already."
With a shrug, Sora began tossing books, clothes, and other dorm-room essentials from one end of the room to the other. A growing mountain quickly formed on the top of his bed.
"Coach kept us awhile. Sports scholarships trump being late on move-in day. Roxas doesn't mind." He looked across the room, tone cheerful as he fixed blue eyes on his roommate, then had the gall to wink at him. "Right?"
He didn't wait for Roxas to answer.
"And on the plus side, you got first dibs on which side of the room you wanted."
The girl sighed, then side-stepped the bin. She made her way to Sora's bed and began sorting through the pile of rumpled clothing. Roxas watched for a time, listening to them exchange banter casually enough for him to suspect they'd probably gone to the same high school.
That made sense. What didn't was the resounding lack of adult presence accompanying either of them.
"Are your parents looking for parking or something?"
It was a lame attempt at conversation, but an attempt nonetheless. His mom probably would've been thrilled, in retrospect. It also succeeded in getting Sora to pause in his frenetic rummaging long enough to shake his head.
"Nah. Though Kairi here's kind of like a mom, so maybe she counts." With a grin, he dodged away from the girl's answering elbow, then dove back into the bin, emerging a second later with a well-taped hockey stick. "They flew out with me last year and did the whole obsessive picture-taking thing then. Move-in day sorta loses its novelty after that."
Roxas didn't quite manage to hide his surprise.
"You're…not a freshman?"
"Nope." Sora looked down as he spoke, angling the hockey stick around the small space like he was guiding an imaginary puck toward a goal net. "Sophomores. Both of us."
Huh. Roxas was pretty sure that little fact had been left off the residence hall's welcome email.
"I get free housing through my scholarship," Sora supplied, eyes lighting up as a balled up pair of socks took a downward tumble off the mountain of clothes on his bed. Kairi beat him to them before he could take a swing, then snatched away his hockey stick and leaned it up against his wardrobe with a look of long-suffering patience.
Sora simply pouted, lower lip stuck out, while Kairi turned back to her folding project and tried to maintain a stern expression. The exchange reminded Roxas of his parents during their more light-hearted moments, and he found himself tempted to ask if the two were dating.
Sora started chattering again before he could give voice to the question.
"Anyway, that means the school pretty much owns me. They probably ran out of sophomores to match me with so I guess I got stuck with you instead."
Sora didn't seem especially bothered by this. Roxas, in turn, decided not to take unnecessary offense to the way Sora's explanation had been worded.
"But I can totally show you around." With a few nimble steps, Sora launched himself onto the bed and nearly upset the neatly folded pile of t-shirts that Kairi had just stacked. "Like, I know the fastest way to get between campuses, the coolest places to study, best times to do laundry so you're not waging a battle for washers on par with the 75th annual Hunger Games. Crap like that."
He shot Roxas a grin before leaning back and entwining the fingers of both hands behind his head. When Roxas stayed as silent as he was stoic, Sora started talking again.
"You play any sports? Hockey, maybe?"
Roxas swallowed over the lump in his throat as an image materialized of Ven in his varsity track and field uniform. His jaw clenched. Any interest he'd had in explaining his skill on a skateboard vanished in the wake of this newly formed annoyance.
"No."
Sora didn't seem troubled by the curt response. He merely reached for a nearby pair of boxer briefs, then twirled the elastic band around his index finger.
"So much for my theory that everyone in Minnesota plays some sort of ice sport."
Kairi paused in her folding, then turned toward Sora. For the briefest of moments, Roxas thought she might haul off and smack him for lazing around and making her do all of his unpacking. That's what his friend Olette would've done if he, Hayner, or Pence had ever pulled something like this.
But Kairi had a different objective, and it involved reaching for her phone. For his part, Sora merely glanced back over at her, brows rising as she read what Roxas assumed was a text.
"That Riku?"
Although Roxas couldn't see her expression from his current vantage point, he heard the corresponding huff she made before answering.
"We're half an hour late." She made a grab for the wayward underwear. "What do you think?"
"Oh, yeah. Dinner." Pushing himself up onto his elbows as Kairi folded the final piece of clothing, Sora looked back at Roxas. "My friend's dorm has way better food than this one. Wanna come with us?"
The bright smile that followed sent a nervy spark from his stomach up into his chest. Roxas entertained Sora's offer, knowing full well this was just the type of interaction his parents would encourage, even if it meant skipping out on eating with them.
He shook his head, then reached for his phone while moving to stand.
"Sorry." His tone was dismissive. "I've already got plans."
He waved the phone in their general direction, then tried to keep his pace steady as he started to head out.
"Cool, well, some other time then!"
Seemingly undeterred by his recent snub, Sora's voice followed him down the hall. Roxas wasn't completely able to conceal his scowl as he navigated around other students still in the process of unpacking.
Because he didn't need new friends. He had Ven and Ven had him. That was all either of them had ever needed—and nothing about their new situation changed anything.
The longest day of his life had been the moment fatherhood started, which Cloud supposed was saying something. Over the years, there had been plenty of trying experiences while parenting two boys.
He'd thought he was ready to take on this challenge. They'd read up on the process, had converted the spare room into a nursery well in advance Tifa's due date. They'd even taken a class with other parents-to-be, which had admittedly required some persuading from Tifa. Predictably, it'd been filled with new-age yuppies who thought they knew everything about child-rearing because they'd read a couple parenting articles from self-touted experts online.
Tifa had owed him for that one. And despite her repeated attempts at wide-eyed sweet-talk, Cloud held strong to the resolve not to name either kid something dumb. Definitely not nature-related. There was only room for one pair of hippies in the Strife family. His parents already fit the bill by picking his own ridiculous name, even though he'd been born in the late seventies, long after the free-love movement had entered its dying stages.
But, all told, they were set—as ready as they could ever really hope to be to become first-time parents.
Still, nothing could have prepared him for twenty nail-biting hours in the maternity ward. By the time it was over, Cloud was more than happy to concede to Tifa's rather unconventional naming desires. She was recovering, and both boys had been born healthy. So, hell, she could've named them after exotic flowers as far as he was concerned. He'd have given his blessing.
In hindsight, then, Roxas and Ventus weren't the worst names on Earth. Light and wind. It suited them.
Yet sometimes, Cloud couldn't help but wonder if their names should've been switched. More often than not, Ven was the bright, confident leader, and it was Roxas whose moods were as fickle and fleeting as seasonal winds.
Regardless, both boys had distinct personalities. Cloud wasn't as convinced as Tifa that it had anything to do with birth order, although he had to admit it was Roxas who was most likely to act less sure of himself, especially when Ven wasn't around to make decisions for him. Maybe there was some truth to these things. Cloud still found it hard to believe that two kids could look so alike but act so different based on a mere two-minute age distinction.
Then again, he'd once conceded, their parenting class had only been thirty-eight longer, and each had felt like its own eternity. It seemed cliché to even consider, but Cloud supposed that time was probably relative when it came to these types of things.
"…seriously knocked into the beaker with her hand, maybe elbow, and spilled the whole thing. I don't think it got on anyone, which was a minor miracle because it splashed literally everywhere."
Roxas said nothing as he and Ven headed away from the science building, content to let Ven talk while he readjusted his grip on the skateboard tucked under one arm. It was a Thursday, and all of his classes had already finished earlier that morning. Ven's went later, with a break at mid-day. After a month of skateboarding back and forth over the pedestrian bridge that connected the east and west banks of campus, Roxas was starting to get used to their respective schedules. It was the same school, just sometimes felt like different worlds separated by rocky banks of a yawning river.
He was also acclimating to his roommate's constant chatter, albeit far more reluctantly. No number of pointed looks, no exaggerated instances of shoving his nose into a textbook or wearing the largest headphones known to man seemed able to deter Sora when he wanted to talk about something. He'd even gone so far as to get ahold of Roxas' phone during a moment of regrettable distraction. Despite Roxas' responding scowl, he'd added in his contact details with an uncompromising grin and a small shrug. 'In case you ever wanna grab food together, you'll know how to reach me' was the justification he'd offered. With Sora, there would be no apologizing for the transgression of attempted friendship.
Not that Roxas had bothered to take him up on his offer. He had his brother and his own life already, thanks. He didn't play nice with strangers.
Besides, Roxas reasoned, Sora already seemed to know half the residence hall and then some, was also pretty popular elsewhere since he was on the school's hockey team. It wasn't like he was lacking in friends who were actually interested in spending time with him.
"Anyway, that is the story behind me getting out of Chem early." Ventus smiled, mostly to himself. "It was pretty awesome, but you probably had to be there."
Yeah, probably.
The conversation turned to evening plans, with Roxas finally chiming in to voice his opinion about preferred pizza toppings and what Netflix show they should catch up on. There was nothing going on for them that weekend, as far as he knew. He'd probably crash at Ven's on an air mattress they'd once used for family camping trips, wake up, and head down to the dorm's basement to grab breakfast, maybe do some studying, or find an obscure part of campus to investigate or something. It really didn't matter much to Roxas, as long as they did it together.
They entered the honors dorm using Ven's student ID card, then took the elevator up to the fifth floor. Most of the students in the hall where Ven's room was located were first years; their doors were kept open, or at least unlocked for others to enter whenever they wanted. Most doors also had small whiteboards affixed to them, with markers hanging from yarn or strings so people could leave messages. There was a constant, lively buzz in this part of the building, sounds of students still adjusting to their new living situation.
In contrast, Roxas' dorm was calmer; most students were sophomores or upperclassmen who trended less toward freshmen displays of excitement about living away from home. Some even had jobs and spent most of their time outside of classes entirely off-campus.
Too bad Sora didn't happen to be one of those.
The door to Ven's room was already half-open. Both boys entered one after the other, with Ven leading the way. Two other students were already present. One Roxas identified as Ven's overly studious roommate. The other was someone he didn't recognize. Both were congregated around one of the room's two desks, but only one was actually sitting. The other was leaning forward, both arms straight and braced, palms flat against the desktop, hair a hue of artificial red a few shades brighter than Kairi's.
Roxas eyed them as Ven deposited his backpack on the floor at one side of the room, the top of his skateboard now held in both hands as he balanced the bottom lip on the carpet in front of him.
And he'd thought Isa's hair was an eyesore.
As if on cue, Isa looked up. Although he didn't bother to greet them or smile, he did nod before directing his attention back to his textbook. This was about typical. Isa wasn't much of a talker, and Roxas kind of liked that about him.
The other guy, however…
"Heeeey, Ven. Aren't you supposed to be in class?"
Roxas watched as Ven returned the guy's smile.
"Yeah." He unzipped his backpack and began swapping out books. "One of the lab students spilled something, so we got let out early."
"Sweet." Through some physical branch of witchcraft, the guy's smile widened. "Nothing exciting ever happens in my classes."
At this, Isa twisted in his seat, brows rising into an expression that reminded Roxas of Kairi at her highest level of skeptical.
"You're a History major, Lea."
"Yeah, so?" A look of mock-offense was quick to form. "Are you saying my field of study is boring?"
Rolling his eyes, Isa turned back to his notes.
"You just said it for me."
Roxas watched as Lea merely shook his head, then turned his attention to Ventus and promptly changed the subject.
"You hungry? We've been thinking about heading down for lunch."
"Correction: you've had food on the mind since you got here." Isa exhaled as though trying to retain his last thread of patience. "I've been trying to study so I don't fail this honors class."
Lea grinned again, then hopped forward a few steps. His next comment was offered in a loud whisper.
"That means he's worried about getting a B. Isa's never even come close to failing anything."
Judging from the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Ven seemed more amused by Lea's antics than Roxas personally felt. In front of someone new, Roxas found himself predictably mute, simply waiting for Ven to say something that would direct the conversation.
As usual, he did.
"Roxas and I were planning to grab some food, actually, yeah. Did you guys want to come?"
While Lea nodded with undisguised eagerness, Isa merely shrugged. A moment later, he pushed away from his desk and stood, which Roxas figured was as good an indication as any that he also planned to tag along.
"Awesome. I am half-starving."
Lea turned, then made a swipe at his wallet that was balanced on top of a European History textbook. He pranced across the room, edging around Roxas by mere inches as he made his way to the door.
"You guys should seriously come with us this weekend. There's this guy who lives off-campus—Beg or Braig or Bag or whatever. I heard from a very reliable source that his parties are worth the two bus transfers."
Roxas followed Ven as they exited, pausing just long enough for Isa to fish out his room key while Lea looked at them, apparently waiting for an answer.
Once again, Ven took the lead. This time, he said something Roxas hadn't been expecting.
"That does sound cool, but I've already got plans."
Yeah, they did, Roxas reminded himself. Him and Ven, actually. Together. Roxas didn't know what Ven had in mind, but it didn't really matter. They could figure something out the day-of, totally spur-of-the-moment.
Roxas inclined his head, intending a quick nod, only to falter halfway through as Ven's next words hit him straight on.
"Some people from my Geography class are meeting up with the TAs for a hike on Saturday. It's at this state park like an hour north of here so I might be too tired by the time I get back."
...what?
Roxas stared at the back of his brother's head, pace slowing as Ven, Lea, and Isa continued to make their way down the hall. This was the first he was hearing about any sort of hiking trip. Oblivious to his reaction, Lea kept talking although Roxas was no longer paying attention to what was being said. His chest felt hot, ears full, the voices of others warping like he was listening from under an aqueous surface.
Ven was more observant. Roxas could feel eyes on him as they stopped to wait for the elevator.
"Will sneakers work alright?" Still uncomfortable, Roxas tried not to show it and kept his tone light as he glanced over at Ven. "I didn't think I'd need hiking boots at school so I didn't pack them."
Beside him, Ven's features wavered. His gaze lowered, expression turning uncomfortable.
"It's…actually just for students in my class." His tone held a note of apology. "For people considering a Geography major."
With an unreasonably optimistic ring, the elevator doors slid open. Roxas felt a flush of embarrassed heat creep up the sides of his face as his brother and the others all shuffled in. He wanted to respond, to play this off like it'd had no effect on him. But his throat felt tight, constricting. None of the right words would form.
Ven, on the other hand, seemed to have taken a page out of Lea's book with the newfound ability to talk his ears off.
"Sorry. I would've told you sooner, but I didn't know about it until this morning."
Roxas managed to dignify the comment with a level glance but said nothing, noting that both Lea and Isa looked like they were pretending not to be listening.
"It's, just, the TAs are really nice. Terra knows just about everything about the physical features in this region, and Aqua's an expert on freshwater geography."
He said some more, but Roxas had stopped listening. After all, he'd gotten pretty good at tuning out unwanted sounds after nearly a month stuck living in the same space as…
Oh.
The elevator doors opened. While everyone else headed out, Roxas just blinked and stayed rooted in place, one hand hovering over the phone in his pocket.
As the doors began to close, Ven reached out to hold them. For once, he was the one who seemed uncertain.
"I have plans," Roxas blurted out, rushing to supplement as Ven's eyes widened at the volume of his voice. "With a friend," Roxas supplemented, his tone lowering. "My roommate."
Lea and Isa exchanged quick looks. Through some unspoken agreement, both shuffled off toward the cafeteria entrance, leaving him and Ven to talk, one still inside the elevator, the other mostly out.
"Are you..." Ven's eyes darted from Roxas to the ground, then back up, as though he didn't know precisely where to look. "I mean, can you stay so we can talk? I don't want you to be mad about this."
"I'm not." Roxas' voice sounded far steadier than he felt. "Sora and I just never see each other because our schedules suck but I promised we'd meet up today and then totally forgot when you texted about meeting a little early."
The explanation was rushed, but it sounded honest enough. Although Ven didn't look entirely convinced, his shoulders relaxed, and knuckles that had once been white from a tight grip against the elevator door regained more of their normal coloring.
"What about your skateboard?"
Roxas shrugged.
"I'll get it tomorrow after class."
Moving forward, Roxas reached for the button to the dorm's first floor.
"I should hurry though or I'm gonna be late."
Ven released the door, expression still hesitant. He stayed where he was standing, eyes on Roxas, until the elevator doors slid shut.
Only then did Roxas let out the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He allowed himself a quick moment to acknowledge the sting of familial rejection, eyes downcast, lower lip slightly trembling with this feeling that had been building over the past couple weeks.
He'd managed to compose himself by the time the doors opened again, and Roxas reached for his phone as he headed for the exit. He pulled up his contacts, searching for one in particular, someone who'd swiped his phone, then added his details 'just in case' no more than a week earlier. Once located, he started composing a text he never envisioned ever having to send.
But maybe he did need to branch out and make friends unassociated with Ventus. Maybe the bond he'd always thought they'd shared wasn't as strong as he'd always assumed. Regardless of what it actually was, things were changing between them, whether Roxas wanted it or not.
For the first time since starting college, Roxas found himself hoping Sora was available and still willing to grab lunch with him.
He'd been dreading this moment for six hours, the exact span of time since he'd last seen his boys. That was when he'd last stood at this street corner, one hand raised the same as a row of other parents saying their good-byes on the first morning of a new school year.
Roxas had remained seated closest to the bus window, expression surly, cheeks still blotched red and puffy. It was Ven who'd waved back, and Ven who seemed far more excited about what the day had in store for him.
They'd known for weeks at that point. Both parents had made their own good-faith attempts at putting a positive spin on the news that Roxas and Ven had been assigned different third-grade classrooms.
Yet, Roxas was having none of it. The outburst over an untouched breakfast that morning had been enough to induce a migraine.
Even worse, it was Tifa who was generally the voice of reason and calm in the Strife household. As luck would have it for Cloud, she hadn't been able to switch early morning work shifts.
How he had even managed to get Roxas on the bus remained one of the world's great, unsolved mysteries—or maybe just a virtue of Ventus' innate ability to comfort, passed down to their son by his mother.
Because it sure as hell wasn't a skill he'd inherited from Cloud.
It was trying enough to make awkward small-talk with other parents waiting at the bus stop, made somewhat less socially painful by Tifa's presence that afternoon. While she chatted with the others, Cloud mostly stayed quiet and kept his eyes on the road. The momentary relief at the bus' appearance was tempered by the prospect that he might soon be juggling a grumpy son, less than pleased about how his first day at school without Ven had gone.
The bus slowed to a stop, brakes squealing, and Cloud watched as kids filed out. The younger ones paused at the last step for camera-wielding parents, their expressions a spectrum from happy to so-clearly-over these displays of pointless parental fawning.
Cloud watched and mentally prepared himself while Tifa moved closer, flip phone at the ready. A digital camera would've been better, but any excess from either of their most recent paychecks had gone toward two sets of identical school supplies.
Ven appeared first, all smiles directed at Tifa's cell phone. Cloud held his breath, and waited for Roxas. What came next seemed more like a repetition of Ven: all smiles and a noticeable bounce to his step. For a moment, Cloud thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, that maybe he'd worked one too many overtime hours and his vision was doubling.
But no. A closer look confirmed the second boy was Roxas, his posture a little awkward, smile trending more toward its usual hesitant. He settled into place next to Ven, letting Tifa take pictures to her heart's content, hands clasped in front of him as he waited for his turn to hop down from the bus. Roxas followed close behind Ven, then reached for his brother's hand. Together, both boys made their way to their parents, Ven reaching for Tifa while Cloud's hand met Roxas'.
"Roxas made a friend!"
The announcement was Ven's, all bubbly and excited. Cloud glanced down at the boy beside him. This time, the glow across Roxas' cheeks seemed to come from a more favorable mental place.
"You did!" Tifa seemed genuinely pleased. "That's great, sweetie What's their name?"
Roxas dropped his gaze, and Cloud briefly wondered if he was going to answer.
"Hayner."
The word was quiet, almost a whisper.
"And," Ven piped up at a louder volume. "He gave Roxas this cool rock he found outside at recess. It's blue."
Cloud looked between his sons.
"Oh yeah?"
Roxas shyly nodded.
"That's wonderful." Over their heads, Tifa was practically beaming at her husband. "I'm glad you both had a good first day. I can't wait to hear more about it at dinner."
With a grin, Ven released her hand, then skipped ahead, tugging Roxas along with him. As Cloud got an eyeful of two matching checkered backpacks, Tifa moved closer, nudging him gently with one shoulder.
"Savor these moments." Her voice was low, meant only for him. "The next thing you know, they'll be moving away to college."
The sound was as short-lived and piercing as a gunshot, but Roxas still took his time looking up from his textbook. Noise like this wasn't unusual in an ice rink—at least not in the midst of an NCAA college hockey practice.
Eventually, he did glance up, looking away from his Economics readings, then over to the digital scoreboard hanging high above the ice. It showed the countdown to the exact second; blocky and red, numbers rapid-fire cycling from nine to null and then back again as the seconds chipped away at each minute left, it let him know there were about two minutes before Sora's practice would be finished.
He looked down, a dozen seats or more separating him from misted plexiglass, a hockey penalty box, and the blur of maroon and gold helmets above thick, padded uniforms. Even though he was one of the shortest players on the team, it still took him a moment to spot Sora. Everyone looked the same in matching their matching, school-issued jerseys.
It was his notable agility that set Sora apart, the ease of movement and ability to dart around his teammates as he continued to play offense. Roxas admittedly didn't know a lot about hockey, and it'd taken awhile to get over his mental incongruence about a guy from sunny, snowless Southern California being vetted by college coaches in a decidedly winter sport. Sometimes it felt like he was still adjusting, but for an hour each week, he would show up as a spectator for an hour of stick-time, reading and doing homework while Sora practiced. They'd grab lunch after, alternating between a handful of different dormitories to meet up with other members of Sora's extended social network.
He also still hung out with Ven, just not daily. Truth be told, his brother's intense interest about anything related to Geography was more than a little boring for Roxas. It just wasn't his thing.
It was easier being around Sora, maybe because they were roommates and familiarity had led to affinity, even if he'd tried to keep Sora at arms length initially. Sora was the last person Roxas saw before sleeping, and the first one to greet him each morning, even though he trended toward a chipper, ready-for-anything demeanor while Roxas was more inclined to hit his alarm's snooze button every ten minutes for an hour or longer. In a matter of days, Sora had picked up on this. By the second week of school, cereal and silverware started appearing on Roxas' desk. Sometimes it was coffee with a side of buttered toast and a selection of individually packaged jelly. Although he never said a word about it to Sora, Roxas was appreciative. It definitely ensured he had something to eat on the days he overslept.
While others would have been within their right to call him standoffish, Sora seemed happy to give him space, yet had still been open to lunch when Roxas had finally reached out on that one otherwise unnotable Thursday.
An inharmonic combination of clanging metal and the timeclock buzzer signaled the end of Sora's practice. When Roxas next looked back toward the ice, the players were gliding toward the exit and the zamboni's rumbling ignition was sputtering to life. Only Sora remained on the ice below him, his helmet tucked under the crook of one arm, hair sweaty and matted to his forehead, blue eyes wide and looking up.
"Wanna skate a little after the ice cut?"
The question echoed off the unoccupied stadium seats around him, and Roxas blinked, still half-focused on aggregate supply, demand, and other concepts from his Economics text. This wasn't the routine he was used to, one that involved making a show of studying while stealing the occasional, clandestine glance down at the ice when he thought Sora wouldn't be looking. The usual routine involved showing up after Sora was already on the ice, finding a seat mid-way up in the stadium bleachers, and studying while the hockey team played informal matches and talked on-ice strategy. Sora and his teammates always left the ice together. While Roxas packed up and exited the building, they all unlaced at the downstairs benches, then used a nearby locker room to change back into street clothes.
Never before had Sora remained on the ice without his teammates. Once in awhile, he'd shoot Roxas a smile before skating off, which Roxas typically pretended to ignore as he ducked his chin toward his sternum and made a grab for his school bag.
Sora had definitely never called up to him, let alone invited him down to rink-level.
Roxas hesitated, brows furrowing as he tried to wrap his mind around not only what Sora was asking but any possible, underlying meaning behind the question.
"Isn't your practice over?"
It was a dumb thing to ask, because Roxas already knew the answer. The zamboni was already angling its way onto the ice from the double doors at the rink's far corner.
Sora just seemed to take it in stride as he nodded and offered up a more detailed explanation.
"There's a public session after the resurface. We could skate, then grab lunch a little later than usual."
Roxas considered this, still subtly stalling as he closed his textbook. He'd been ice skating before, like pretty much everyone who'd grown up in this region. He'd just never been very good at it, and making a fool of himself in front of someone skilled enough to be on a university hockey team wasn't high on his list of current priorities.
At first, he said nothing.
"We can try some other time if you're hungry."
Sora was difficult to read, even though this second comment seemed to imply a no-strings-attached kind of mentality.
Roxas shook his head.
"I'm not. Not hungry yet, I mean." He looked around, trying to quell the nervy sensation that was becoming increasingly familiar whenever he found himself in a conversation with Sora, regardless of topic. "Where do I pay and get skates?"
Sora immediately brightened. He pointed toward the side of the rink with the door he and his teammates always exited through after practice.
"Meet me down here and I'll show you. You can lace up while I get changed out of my uniform."
An incriminating mental image accompanied the tail-end of Sora's comment. Roxas managed a small nod, then ducked his head again under the guise of reaching for his belongings.
As Sora disappeared into a locker room to change, Roxas paid the admission fee and retrieved a pair of rental skates. The skates looked ancient. They were made of thick, scuffed-up plastic that rubbed against his thin socks right through to his ankles whenever he moved even just a little. His discomfort took the backburner as Sora reappeared in street clothes, however. He was wearing his usual baggy jeans but a much more form-fitting t-shirt than Roxas was used to seeing. Roxas swallowed, then pooled his mental resources into keeping balanced as Sora led him across the foam-covered flooring and back toward the rink.
He'd never been down to ice level before, usually just moved from his seat at the bleachers to the outside sidewalk while waiting for Sora to change and come meet him. Roxas paused in front of the rink entrance to take in the space from this new perspective. He looked up and around at row upon row of stadium seating, reflecting their school's official colors, a three-sixty degree sea of maroon and yellow.
Sora's eyes stayed down; even if his line of sight hadn't already been obvious, Roxas was convinced he would have felt the weight of that intense gaze anyway. It was a relief when Sora turned away and took to the ice first. He was followed by a small crowd of other skaters, each of whom Roxas let pass him in turn. By the time Roxas took his first tentative steps onto the ice, Sora had already skated a full circuit of the rink and was halfway into his second, hands clasped behind him, head low as he glided on a half-circle with one foot, then transferred his weight to the other skate and repeated the motion. Roxas came to the quick conclusion that adeptly navigating around other people just wasn't going to happen; he made the executive decision to keep close to the side, using the boards to help him balance as he began to half-glide, half-stumble his way along the outer edge of the rink.
Soon enough, Sora came to a fast stop not far from him, snow spraying up from his blades into an impressive arc. His corresponding grin was wide, almost gleeful. Still nervous, Roxas couldn't find it in himself to return it.
"So, question." Hands grasping the extended ledge at the boards, Roxas finally found his voice. What better way to use it than to divert attention from his awkward attempt to stay upright. "How does someone who grew up in California end up playing hockey at a Big Ten school?"
"Well…" Sora turned backward, then glided along beside him as Roxas took a couple more shaky steps forward. "I started out playing roller hockey on the streets around my house. But then a rink opened up nearby. I guess my parents thought ice was safer than concrete."
The front of his blade snagged against a rut in the ice, and only the death grip Roxas still had on the railing kept him from testing that theory born of parental worry. Face burning, Roxas said nothing. It still struck him as odd that Sora'd grown up so close to the ocean but had chosen to spend most of his free time in freezing-cold ice rinks. It wouldn't have been his first choice.
"I played on a team all through high school." Sora kept talking, apparently reading Roxas' enduring silence as an invite to continue. "We won the state playoffs during my junior year, and that's when I started getting contacted by recruiters. It came down to scholarships, mostly." Sora looked away from Roxas, gaze traveling the ice with an expression of ruminative affection. "U of M offered the best deal, so here I am. One of my friends got recruited too—Riku, you remember him from a few of our lunches, right?—and Kairi got a pretty nice academic scholarship so we all moved out here together. Some of my friends thought we were nuts to want to spend four years in a flyover state, but, I dunno, I kind of like it here. The people are nice. And you've got a wicked lot of ice rinks."
Sora slowed, allowing Roxas to catch up with him. Around them, others glided past with varying levels of skill. Most were tottering around on rental skates, but there was also a guy who zipped by in a hockey jersey, along with a couple girls with hair pulled back away from their faces. They wore snow white ice skates and flowing skirts while performing tricks that left Roxas questioning everything he knew about the laws of gravity and physics. Above them, the overhead speaker stuttered an incoherent half-minute of static before a Top 40s pop song began to filter over the sound system.
Roxas stole another glance at Sora. Over the past couple months, he'd had had plenty of opportunities to see him up close in their dorm, but it felt different here, without as much as a hint of Sora's over-the-top dorm room antics. There was just (mostly) quiet confidence and fluid, easy movements: a fusion of grace and power and effortless, on-ice agility.
"Y'know." Though not loud, Sora's voice was jarring with Roxas so deep in his own thoughts. If Sora noticed the flush creeping into Roxas' face, he opted to overlook it in favor of pointing out an observation of a different variety. "You should try to skate away from the boards. It's fine to want to use them for balance, but it'd be better if it didn't become a habit."
It hadn't seemed patronizing, but Roxas was still tempted to respond with sarcasm or even ignore the suggestion. He wasn't sure why he didn't, actually, considering all the other times he'd blown Sora off since school had started.
But Roxas just nodded, then shifted his weight more squarely onto both feet. His hands came last, still clutching at the boards until he was at least marginally assured of his ability to balance without the additional support.
Sora seemed delighted.
"That's good! Now just practice marching forward." He lifted his skates to demonstrate, one after the other. "Keep your weight a little in front of yourself, and bend your knees."
Roxas followed the instructions and took a few scratchy steps, even attempted to march as Sora had suggested. The ice offered minimal friction and he found each step taking him a few lengths before he could transfer his weight to the other foot. The mechanics kind of reminded him of skateboarding.
"Awesome! You're doing great."
Roxas hazarded a quick look over at Sora. He was following along nearby on one foot, holding a long edge, his free leg tucked behind the other ankle. The action seemed deceptively simple.
"I'm not really marching," Roxas pointed out.
"Gliding's a step up from that, actually!" Sora's approval seemed genuine. "And from there, you just work on longer and smoother strides to generate speed."
Roxas watched as Sora moved to show him, each step held longer, curving slightly inward before he switched feet and repeated the movement. As promised, his speed steadily increased.
Okay. That seemed easy enough. Roxas sucked in a quick breath and took another step forward.
The first stroke didn't feel bad. Pushing off, Roxas tried to recreate the smooth edge Sora had just made, free leg extending slightly behind him. It wasn't until he tried to bring his foot back that he hit a snag. His balance faltered, ankle wobbling precariously. In a last ditch attempt to salvage some shred of equilibrium, Roxas' arms windmilled, and he proceeded to forget everything Sora had just told him about keeping his weight forward. He was sprawled on his back in a matter of seconds.
He heard the telltale sound of a hockey stop as Sora changed direction. Much to Roxas' dismay, his dramatic display had also attracted the attention of others, one of the figure skating girls, in particular. She slowed to a graceful stop a few inches from him, her wrap-around skirt fluttering just above her knees as she looked down with a worried expression.
"Are you alright?"
Sora pulled up beside her a moment later. Roxas nodded but dropped his gaze as he sat up, hoping their collective shadows might hide the heat forming on both sides of his face. Without looking up, he braced his arms behind himself, then pushed to standing, heels first.
He was back on his ass so fast it was like he'd never left.
Smooth.
"Oh man." This time, it was Sora's voice that filtered down to him. "I should've taught you how to fall and get up first thing, but I totally spaced. Here, check this out."
Sora bent his knees, then lowered himself to the ice beside Roxas. With a small smile, the girl skated off and left them to it. Roxas hardly noticed, given Sora's proximity.
"So, it's way easier to get up from a kneeling position than to push up like you did." Sora slid onto his hands and knees and lifted one foot until his blade was flat on the ice. The position offered a closer view of legs that baggy jeans and padded hockey pants usually hid. Beside him, Roxas tried not to focus too much on anything other than Sora's ongoing instructions. "Then, just put your hands on your leg and use your arms to help you up."
While Sora pushed himself back up onto both feet like it was nothing, Roxas considered his options. One, he could refuse to play along. Although Sora had just demonstrated the proper technique, the prospect of getting on his hands and knees and looking like a total idiot wasn't in any way appealing. That left option two, which involved actually following Sora's suggestion and just hoping he could copy it well enough to get back on his feet without falling for a third time.
Of course, if he'd just declined Sora's offer in the first place, he wouldn't even be in this position...
Begrudgingly, Roxas acknowledged that refusing would get him nowhere, and last he checked he couldn't manipulate time. There was no way he could think of to avoid this.
Awesome. What an absolute waste of resources that feat of mental gymnastics had just been.
With a quiet sigh, Roxas shifted onto his knees, not quite willing to get fully on all fours. Kneeling was close enough.
That part also wasn't too difficult. Getting from there back onto both feet was another matter; the agility required to rise while balancing on one foot was harder than Sora'd made it look. At first, Roxas thought he might end up flat on his back on the ice again, but Sora's reflexes were quick. Before Roxas had time to fully process what was happening, Sora's arms shot out. His hands steadied Roxas by the shoulders, firm but gentle.
It took another anxious breath before Roxas noticed how close they now were, even after the threat of him taking another tumble was over.
His gaze traveled up, away from his rental skates, past Sora's hockey pants and that nice, fitted shirt, until he was looking squarely at Sora while Sora looked back with his customary friendliness.
"Thanks." Roxas looked away first, hoping the air was cold enough to justify the flush on his face that he knew was still lingering. "I think I'm good now."
"You sure?"
Roxas nodded again, and Sora released him with first one hand, then the next. Roxas noted the subsequent sensations of relief and disappointment in the pit of his stomach without comment.
He skated forward again, this time taking smaller steps. Sora quickly outdistanced him, even though he seemed to be skating with purposeful slowness. They skated in silence for half a circuit. Ultimately, Sora twisted around to face him, skating backward with the same proficiency.
"See? You're a natural."
Nothing about this seemed natural to Roxas. His ankles were sore, leg muscles aching from the strain of just trying to stay on his feet. Even so, the praise encouraged him to keep going. The longer Roxas skated, the better he got at finding a rhythm that allowed him to glide with increasing confidence.
Technique-wise, Sora was still miles ahead, but at least Roxas wasn't the worst one on the ice now that he'd managed to start moving. Not by a long shot. Excepting the figure skaters and the guy with his own hockey skates, the rest were mostly amateurs who were either holding onto the boards for balance or gliding along with a choppy cadence similar to Roxas'.
And, of course, there was Sora. But Roxas figured his roommate could skate circles around all of them. Instead, Sora was moving at a moderate pace, never letting himself get too far ahead of Roxas. Sometimes he even fell behind, slowing almost to a stop, only to catch back up with a burst of speed, one foot passing over the other until he was in front of Roxas again. It was this move Roxas found most mind-boggling. Eventually, he decided to ask about it.
"Oh, crossovers?" Sora looked at his feet as he spoke, then repeated the movement Roxas had just asked about. "Yeah, we use them to speed up, especially around corners."
He turned and slowed to a near-stop beside Roxas The impish glint as his eyes tapered was a silent precursor to his next question.
"Wanna try some?"
"Um." Roxas glanced over, careful to check his balance as he continued to glide forward. Sora might've made stopping on a dime look easy, but he seriously doubted his own capabilities. "I guess. Yeah, okay."
Brows furrowing, Roxas picked one foot up, then made an attempt at placing it over the other. The movement was shaky, at best. Once again, he found himself in a precarious position, ankles lurching under him.
Sora caught him before he totally lost his balance this time.
"Keep your knees bent." Sora's voice was hushed, warm breath tickling the side of Roxas' face. "Then transfer your weight onto the foot you just crossed and slide the other one out to where it was when you started."
Roxas did as he'd been told, and soon found himself gliding on two feet again. He doubted whether he'd gained any actual speed, and was less convinced he wanted to try another crossover, regardless of Sora's willingness to help.
Still, he'd stayed on his feet, if only thanks to Sora. That was an accomplishment in itself.
It also didn't hurt that Sora's hands were still on him, holding Roxas steady, lingering, just above his elbow.
"You guys are a really cute couple."
The words came to them in a feminine register. Both boys looked up as one, setting their collective sights on the girl who'd taken it upon herself to check on Roxas after his fall. She was smiling. White-blonde tendrils that had escaped from her hair-band framed rosy cheeks and a friendly expression.
Roxas almost choked.
"We're not—" But she was off in a flourish of smooth edges and ice shavings before he could finish. And, Roxas realized, Sora still hadn't moved his hand away or rushed to say anything to deny her presumption.
It was Roxas who gently shrugged him off, then glided forward, arms crossing, shoulders tense. Uncharacteristically silent, he could still hear the subtle crunch of hockey blades as Sora trailed a few feet behind him.
"Sorry," Roxas muttered, swallowing hard against a suddenly dry tongue. "I didn't know my crappy skating skills were going to have people thinking we were dating."
A thoughtful hum was all he heard behind him. Roxas kept skating, unable to bolster the courage to look back at Sora.
Nothing changed for a full lap of the rink, or even midway through the next. No words were exchanged, no meaningful glances, not until Sora increased his speed and pulled up beside him.
"Hungry yet?"
Nodding, Roxas still trained his eyes ahead of him, afraid of what he might see if he looked over at his roommate.
"I could eat, yeah."
"You cool with the student union? It's pretty close to my next class."
Another nod of quiet confirmation from Roxas, and Sora moved in front of him. He turned backward again, slowing only when he was in Roxas' direct line of sight, elbows bent and hands bracing his thighs as he glided on flats a short distance ahead of him.
"Okay, it's a date. We'll drop off your skates and head in that direction."
A ...date?
There was nowhere to look with Sora right in front of him, so Roxas tried to find a quick mental work-around to keep himself grounded. It was possible he'd misheard. Could be a joke, or maybe just Sora's own weird brand of humor.
Maybe, maybe, maybe, but Sora was still smiling; his cheeks were flushed, a subtle blush not all that different from what Roxas had tried hiding earlier.
"Just as friends, obviously." His emotions took a quick nosedive, but Sora kept talking. "Unless you want it to be more, anyway. I definitely wouldn't complain."
He turned and sped off before Roxas could form a response. With smaller, more cautious steps, Roxas followed, thoughts still turbulent beneath the surface of a carefully constructed expression of neutralness. It was Ven who wore his emotions on his sleeve. Not Roxas. Roxas needed time to process before he truly knew what he thought about something.
But time, Roxas acknowledged, was something Sora seemed to have plenty of, if the last couple of months were any real evidence. As Sora found a bench to sit at and unlace his skates, Roxas paused at the boards by the off-ice exit and took a moment to study him. He considered the most recent comments and found they left little room for alternate interpretations.
By the time Sora looked up and managed to locate him, it was Roxas who offered his first, decisive smile in return. One of many to come, he hoped.