Lucid Reveries

by thefollyofmolly

Discontinued. AU. "I've met the man of my dreams, literally." SoRiku, AkuRoku, & DemZexy.

1. Lucidity Begins

Lucid Reveries
I Lucidity Begins
Tlime, language, usual high school stuff
DisclaimerKingdom Hearts © Square Enix & Disney
Pairings SoRiku, RoxAxel, DemZexy , & more?
::.x.::

Waves sullenly lap at the shoreline and recede into the horizon, where the moon sheds an eerie radiance upon the cold darkness. Considering the circumstances, I feel an immense calm. The knowledge of residing forever in this solitude is obsolete, because I am not completely alone — Riku will be by my side, always.

The alarm chimed only once before I rolled off the top bunk, there was a foot-high landing of pillows, and leapt to my feet. Roxas, my twin, grumbled something in his sleep — even then he was a grouch — and pulled the blankets over a mass of blond spikes. Our room glowed blue in the morning twilight. I threw open the window, enjoying the salty breeze that warmed my cheeks. It was the first day at my new school and elatedwas an understatement. The feeling that something bigwas going to happen nearly overwhelmed me. My summer of moving had been so long and boring and hot that the idea of spending perfect ocean days at Destiny Private High only added to my excitement. As much as I missed my old acquaintances, there was a huge population of potential friends waiting for me. They wouldn't know of my past. It would be easier — at least, that's what Mom insisted on.

Wrapped up in my internal monologue, I didn't hear Roxas complain that he was hungry. The second time, he included this consistent whining with a shoe aimed at my head. "Get your own food!" I hurled it at his ungrateful face and he nimbly caught it and threw it back. This continued on for about fifteen minutes, with each toss becoming less violent and more lethargic, before Roxas abruptly fell back asleep. I sighed. Being the 'burden' that I was, my side of the bargain for shelter and clothing was cooking every meal. Undeniably, my culinary skills were way above Roxas' and his mother's. Before I came, they had been living solely on fast food. It's a wonder how they remained so slim.

I set up the confounding coffee maker — mechanism — and used the manual as my aid. The aroma of the rich brew wafted around the house, soon to be followed by chocolate chip waffles. My mother, silk cream robe flowing, sauntered into the kitchen. She, like Roxas, wasn't a morning person and took a black cup without gratitude. She plopped onto a barstool and observed me with bloodshot eyes over her mug. Scooping waffles onto her plate and fixing them the way she preferred, sugary syrup and all, I declared, "Good morning!"

My mother didn't respond to my greeting until she was caffeinated to her mind's satisfaction. "Morning, Sora," she murmured through ravenous bites of her waffles.

"Long night at the office?" I was captivated by her position. She was co president of Shinra, the business that no one knew about yet were influenced greatly by. I'd never been there; it was far away from Destiny Islands and Twilight Town, but from the few bits of info she provided, it sounded hellish. Nevertheless, judging by the marble countertops I prepared meals on; modern and imported everything; glossy windows with a perfect ocean view; rooms that I've yet to discover; and the maids and butlers, though no chef, that were practically invisible but always lingering for juicy gossip — she was paid well. And she wasn't one to share. She had ruthlessly cut off all money, except for childcare, to her ex husband. I didn't blame her.

"Yes," she said simply. I wanted to hear more but the sound of slippers clapping on the linoleum floor interrupted us. My mother would never discuss Shinra anywhere near Roxas. It was unsettling.

"Good morning!" I directed Roxas away from the wall, of which he'd been grumbling at, to his much needed coffee. Even after full of the addicting stuff and waffles, Roxas never said good morning. He believed no morning was good.

Roxas and I don't agree on many things — most times we didn't get along well enough to find anysimilar interests. I was into pop, he rock, me anime, he MTV, me books, he wouldn't touch one unless his life, or grades, depended on it. The one thing that we couldestablish within likeness is our sexuality.

Mom says it's genetic, and that's about it. She's not opinionated on much other than science. Dad, on the other hand, couldn't handle the truth. He's radically religious — one of the reasons people shied away from me. It wasn't like that was when the abuse started, no. It was going on for years. But it got worse, physically and verbally, when he peered over my shoulder while I was visiting a site on homosexuality. I insisted it was for school, research and all that. He didn't believe me. That was a year ago, followed up with repetitive trips to the court where the judge forced me under custody of my mother.

I waddled back our bedroom and procrastinated on getting ready. My wild brunette spikes were unsalvageable, although I guess it made me unique. Yet, I wanted to blend into the crowd. To go unnoticed. I switched my white tee, printed with the words 'Love is Love' in rainbow, for plain black, then back again. Making friends meant getting noticed, although I had a feeling the shirt would rub someone the wrong way…

Roxas came into our room still dragging his feet but at least not talking to walls. He scrutinized my shirt and said dryly; "fag," and there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. "People are going to mistake you for outgoing."

"Really," I had to laugh at that. "Not a freak?"

"That too," Roxas dug into his drawer that would be heavenfor all emos. He tugged on skin-tight girl jeans, somehow flattering and not disgusting, coupled with a black shirt with some broken heart bleeding ketchup. "If anyone, my friends will adore you."

I shrugged in response. I wanted to claim that I didn't care what people think, but, in some respects, I do. Everyone does. Glancing at the clock, my heart wrenched in anxiety and excitement, while Roxas looked annoyed. "We'll miss the bus!" I whined as he tied his sneakers at a painstakingly slow pace.

"Limo," he flicked my forehead and rolled his eyes.

"Roxas," I gasped in realization, "you've never ever ever ever everrrr taken the bus before?!"

"Never. Ever. Will." He scowled. "I've seen those movies, Sora. Upperclassmen will mutilate us."

I siiiiigheddramatically, "you haven't had the realhigh school experience!"

"We were freshmen last year. How would you know?"

I almost said because I wasn't a spoiled, antisocial brat, but we both knew he wasn't like that at all. Aforementioned notspoiled, antisocial brat hefted a book bag on his shoulder and motioned for me to follow him out the door. I was surprised that we passed the kitchen, near the main entrance/exit, instead of the underground garage where our driver would be waiting for us. Our mother said nothing, just raised a thinly-plucked eyebrow.

The air was comfortably warm even in the early morning. It did, however, lack the sharp tang of when the sunrays illuminate the sky and the birds break the silence with their strident harmonies. As we continued — me skipping and Roxas trudging — down the long entrance that lead from our mansion-house to the suburbs, all was quiet, except for the occasional bird chirping and a car leisurely admiring our intricate, borderline overzealous, landscaping. Once the electric metal gate closed behind us, accompanied with a sickeningly cheery have a good day!!!, middle-class life erupted back like a sonic boom. I was, by now, used to the transition. When we passed the clumps of multicolored trees, go figure, blocking off the highway, the scent of urbanization brought us back to reality. And waiting there was the pallid bus rumbling on the side of the ride. The driver looked non-too pleased. I figured our mother had promised him a bonus of sorts during the ten minutes it took us to get off our property.

I lingered after Roxas and jumped in with the double doors barely grazing my heels. "Name's Cid," the driver snarled, "next time, begfor mercy." Underneath the malicious glower, there was a glint of humor. He was trying to scare me for fun. I nodded nonchalantly and passed by, catching a glimpse of his shoulders drooping.

The whole bus waved at Roxas, shouting greetings and the like, and watched me curiously as I nearly clung to him for dear life. They broke out into whispers when he let me sit next to him. The name Axel— or maybe it was ass hole? — seemed to pop up a lot. I wondered what they found so enticing about Roxas, when he hadn't even waved back to a single person.

The bus rolled down the road, everyone but me and Roxas chatting excitedly about their vacation, until we came to a stop somewhere in the next set of suburbs(Ardent Dandelions, as they call it — possibly a hippy or religious community. Gazing at the houses gave me a headache; they all lookedthe same and created a menacingly unified horizon, sort of like standing at the base of a mountain and thinking: what's beyond there? and knowing you'll never find out. It made me shudder.

Sauntering towards us was a slim senior with a mess of crimson spikes, and beneath his feline eyes was a pair of black teardrops. He was the epitome of a jaguar when leaping onto the bus. Those unnerving eyes landed immediately on Roxas, and his coy face morphed into too many expressions for me to interpret, most of which I'd rather not seeeveragain. Happiness and jealousy seemed to battling it out as he stalked his prey — and I banished that analogy from my mind.

"Roxy," he whined in a contradicting smooth voice, "you'll ride with himbut not me?"

"I forced him," I said. My interjection didn't help. DOOM was written all over his face.

"This is my brother, Sora," Roxas' restraint wavered, "and this is my dumbass friend, Axel."

Said dumbass examined both of us and it seemed comprehension finally dawned on him. "Oh! Thisis your twin!" I reached over and patted him on the head, in the likeness of a naïve puppy. He bit my hand.

Bus seats are made for two, not three, but Axel didn't seem like one to conform to common sense. He yanked Roxas to his chest and took the seat, propping my twin on his lap. Roxas flushed and declared that was the very reason he hadn't taken the bus, yet he didn't fight against the arms that wrapped around his lower back. Feeling weirdly dirty for staring, I turned my attention out the window. We were passing the public high school. They wore checkered blue uniforms. The private school heavily supported individuality, and I was glad I wasn't one of the guys fidgeting with a tie. Some of them, plus girls, waved in Roxas' direction.

The bus continued its antagonizing slow ascent uphill. I had begun smacking my head repeatedly on the seat to banish nerves. The kid in front of me would wham his back against the seat in synch with my head, and the sound would be musically inspiring if my ears weren't ringing so much.

Eventually, what I first thought to be a mansion-castle-type-thingy revealed itself at the very top of the hill. It was the school, shining in the sunrise with all its glory. I was shell-shocked at the sheer massive size of it. Did they reallyneed all that space? There weren't a whole bunchof kids enrolled that year, but…it was probably just for looks — and it did a very good job at accommodating that. The exterior was all white and pearly, almost like marble, and resembled a sophisticated Victorian mansion. Surrounding its spacious campus was fresh grass, flowers, shady trees, and various pathways.

We came to halt and I leapt to my feet, feeling a vast amount of energy whelming up inside me. With all these mood swings, Roxas made known his concerns over the state of my mental health. That aside, I bounced through the aisles and leapt onto the soft grass. It smelled good. I could feellearningin the atmosphere, pressuring, encouraging, mocking…Students began to talk amongst themselves excitedly, and Roxas was bombarded by half the population. I strayed to the freshman, feeling as nervous and excited and lost and small as they were.

Axel provided a distraction, courtesy to his ever-so-handy lighter, while Roxas scampered away and led me to the school. "Why don't you wear a disguise or something, Roxas? Like those celebrities do."

"What're you talking about?" He asked with somewhat smug curiosity. We lingered at the double-door entrance and I checked to make sure Roxas' adoring fans were still entranced with Axel writing risqué stuff in the air with his lighter.

"Uhm, I dunno. Everyone seems to love you."

"There's a story behind that," without warning, except for the crowd stampeding up to us, Axel's arms draped on our shoulders. If Roxas minded at all, he certainly didn't show it. The corners of his lips might have even raised a little. "He told off all the administrators, and then the friggin' mayor. It's rumored Roxy might contact the government next."

"Or alien warlords," an unfamiliar voice behind us put in. "Roxas did it through music. He wrote the lyrics, I did the chords." A lanky, dirty blonde with an infectious smile and odd mullet-meets-mohawk hairstyle walked backwards alongside us, somehow dodging people going by. His eyes sparkled.

"Demyx, this is my twin, Sora," said Roxas.

"Heard so much about you, So-So! Do you write too?" Demyx fidgeted with the gigantic guitar-looking-thing hoisted over his shoulder.

"Not well," I admitted. "What kinda guitar is that?"

"Sitar," Demyx corrected merrily.

"I liiike to play my Sitar, my Sitar, my Sitarrr!!!" Axel loudly broke into song. Demyx immediately joined in — his voice was melodic enough to make the song not as stupid — and Roxas hummed under his breath. People behind us started singing along absentmindedly. Decidedly, this was the lovable-dorky-cool group. It was a safe bet that there were more, and I couldn't wait to meet them.

We had become loosely separated, the sitar song fading, and suddenly I was in an expansive classroom with way too many dead stuffed things. It was evidently my first class with Roxas; Biology. The majority of our classes were separate, as was swindled out of our mother due to wanting our own "separate identities"(though it was mainly because we couldn't stand each other for more than an hour), who then swindled it out of the principal. Whatever Roxas had done previously, the school was still subject to bribery.

There weren't too many students filling up the seats. Freshman and seniors, mostly, had come in that early, because they would die before failing the class(the first or last time). Roxas and I mutually agreed to sit in the middle. In the back and front you're excluded, but in the middle it's easier to take it all in.

A second before the bell rang, students poured into the room. The first two who had entered sat on either side of us, reaching over our heads to high-five. The girl on my side was a petite redhead wearing a pink jumper, the other next to Roxas was a bubbly brunette, the tips flipped, and who picked up a random conversation with her friend, and looked at Roxas like she expected him to provide the latest juicy gossip.

"Hey, Selphie," he greeted with some reluctance. She giggled.

"You're Sora, right?" the redhead directed to me. She grinned brilliantly when I nodded. "I'm Kairi and that's my right-hand woman, Selphie. I'm assuming you already know Roxas." I expected her to laugh at the lame attempt at a joke, and smiled in relief when she didn't. Instead, Selphie had provided the fake laughs, and I found myself accompanying her. Maybe it was to see Kairi's glossy lips spread across her pretty face, I'm not sure, but what I could be certain of was that Selphie enjoyed the reaction much more than I did.

The class shifted and went on with their conversations. They were easily classifiable. There were the preps, high-pitched and giggly, examining their acrylic nails while they pretended to listen, the jocks who made stupid sex jokes and threw paper airplanes at the geeks below them, those geeks that sat rigid in their desk while pouring over massive science books and probably planning world domination (I would make friends with them for sure), the goths who lowly discussed morbidly intriguing things, emos who shared cutting techniques and gushed about the heartfelt screamo concerts where they sung ably along while weeping, and then the misfits who, hence the name, didn't fit into any stereotypes, and for that I was glad. Somewhere in the back of my mind there was a pluck of guilt for judging these people on the surface. I didn't know them well enough to do so, although I wondered if they even knew themselves. Does anyone cross-examine their minds enough toknow?

Eventually, the spiky blonde(apparently blonde spikes are the new fad)teacher ambled into the room. His face was expressionless, but not content in any way. He sipped from a thermostat, looking over the rim at us with blank eyes. He looked young, fresh out of college and not used to conforming to a sleeping schedule.

"Life," his low voice was barely audible, "did not begin with science. We will hold no science versus religion debates here, for it is futile. Biology studies life, explains how it thrives and ends, but it did not beginlife nor does prove the beginning thereof." He used Biologylike it was his lover's name.

"'Science is a process by which mankind uses the Scientific method to solve problems and answer questions'." Roxas quoted with just the right amount of bored sarcasm to not sound like a know-it-all. "Yes, obviously, Science doesn't have a part in childbirth."

"Are you saying God does sex?" Selphie gasped overdramatically. Kairi rolled her eyes.

"They said I'd have to deal with smartasses at some point." The teacher rubbed his temples.

"Uhm," I raised my hand like a good little boy, "what's your name?"

"And the slow children, those too," his flat tone didn't match the class's laughter. I sunk into the desk. Roxas spun around and glared, and it quieted immediately. "There are no stupid questions, remember that. Come back tomorrow with my name, cover your ears and scream if someone tries to tell you, and I'll give you…candy, or something."

He went on to explain class rules and procedures, and most sounded pretty lenient. If he was speaking, no one else should do so. If we didn't want to pay attention, we could communicate in an undisruptive fashion, but if we didn't manage that, we were sent out. No point in keeping those who didn't want to learn with people who did. He also didn't care if anyone was under ten minutes late, because if they hadwanted to skip, why only take ten out of the hour long period? They could've been doing something illegal, sure, but that wasn't really his problem.

Along with finding out his name, on the schedule that I had lost during summer, I would have ­— get, he would remind us constantly — to research and write a page-length essay on theories of life. It was a wide term so we could use any topic that we wanted, and I mulled it over while Roxas, Axel, and Demyx guided me to second period. I didn't care how life started, nor what happened after it ended, but more on its purpose. Graduating high school, getting a college degree in medicine, hanging up achievement awards in my fancy apartment…that was all fine and dandy, but that wasn't whyI wanted to be a doctor. Every time I thought of helping and saving others, something blossomed in my chest. It was a good feeling and I wanted more of it. And there were things beyond my potential career that blew my mind. It was sappy and stupid, but growing old with someone I loved deeply appealed to me as well, perhaps even more. It was hard to imagineeverfinding someone like that — someone that I could spend in the darkness of the worlds, alone forever and not be bothered just because I was with them.

"Hey, Sora!" Kairi had taken Roxas' place after I entered the door. I tried to look at her, but the vibrant, neon colored posters hung crookedly behind her were rather distracting. "You have creative writing, too? Oh, my gosh, I adorewriting on and on and on and on forever, you know? Are you planning on participating in NaNoWriMo this year? I have a plot planned out andeverything."

I blinked. "Er, no. I wanted to get into Accounting 101, but I had too many business electives. Counselor said I need to get off my one-track mind…"

"You seem creative to me, is all," Kairi shrugged and pointed to the desk next her. She had sat in the front, so I hesitated before dropping my bag beneath the chair. Unlike the last class, everyone had arrived early and were chatting or writing obsessively. Some of them had brought laptops that they were stooped over, typing like mad.

The door slammed shut. Only the freshman, and a lone sophomore(me), jumped. "It was a dark and stormy night," a feminine voice owned by a violet-haired man declared. "I will throw you out this four-story window if you decide to use this line. Don't try hiding it in the third or fourth paragraph, I will find it."

"That's Marluxia," Kairi whispered in my ear, "I've had him all three years. Kinda weird but entertaining, I'll give him that."

Marluxia launched into his extensive writing pet peeves, and my hand hurt from fiercely taking down notes. Kairi put her hand over mine, shaking her head no. I blinked and drew back, looking up at Marluxia, who smirked momentarily. He continued with describing the lesson plans and exercises that were not scientifically proven to improve our writing, so they definitely would work.

"Now," he said in mock seriousness that may have been referring to my previous teacher, "each and every one of you is going to come up here and give a little mini-bio, plus read or improvise an intro. I'll let Kairi, our lovely voluntary repeat student who'll provide you with creative tips, start out for us."

Kairi flung herself out of the desk and stood in front of the class. "Uhm, hi. I like to write." She broke out into nervous giggles. "I hate doing this! Hehe." She cleared her throat, reaching for a piece of paper she had most likely finished the night before. "I swear this teacher is clinically insane, making us go up there and describe ourselves to a bunch of judgmental monkeys. But I have to admit any man who collects flowers is on my good side. Anyway, took part in these pointless activities whilst hoping that Marly's exaggerations would leave a lasting impression on my peers, and that they'd forget that their assistant tutor can't do introductions properly. But, I am quite skilled in novels and such, if I do say so myself.Except when I turn in drafts to my editor and they come back to me pretty much smothered with red ink to the extent that it's illegible, and that's basically saying I need to write the whole thing over again because it was crap." Kairi waited there, arms folded, like she was expecting enthusiastic applause. I gave it to her and others joined in halfheartedly. "Now, on to Sora, who you may or may not know as Roxas-dearest's twin brother."

I squeaked in protest, having been listening intently and not writing anything. She clapped a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I dragged myself to the feet, wondering if I could prolong my Trek to Hell for half an hour. Someone coughed impatiently.

"I'm Sora…I don't like writing at all," a few laughs, "but, shockingly, I do care about my grades…" I trailed off and gawked. Whilst scanning the classroom for anyone bothering to pay attention, I saw a familiar flash of silver. I did a double-take. Slouching heavily in his desk was Riku. His cerulean eyes bored into mine, unfathomable and too bright, but it was impossible to look away. I blinked once, twice, and rubbed my eyes.

Riku was not a mirage, or a reverie, he wasreality — lucidity.

My voice abandoned me, and I stumbled back to my desk. How could this even be possible? I mean, I've heardabout this stuff on the news, with the skeptics in the majority's favor, but it was too weird. It made my head pound and blood rush. Kairi was patted my hand sympathetically, and I wondered for a moment if sheknewwhat was going on. But of course she didn't. She probably figured that my little episode was a panic attack.

Riku Riku Riku Riku. I dared to glance back. He was intently watching the next kid to speak with the same blankness in his eyes. There was a mix of relief and disappointment — Riku hadn't recognized me, unless he was that good of an actor. I, partially, didn't doubt that. The Dream Riku exceeded at everything he did, but was the real, if he was that, one the same? He appeared so.

"I shall express my boundless gratitude for all your…er…interestingintroductions by allowing you to write to me a compilation of flashy flash fiction, which shall be due by next week. Work on it whenever, just not when I'm speaking, for I am your temporary God, and remember to let it be crappy. Our first unit is on freedom of expression, then formatting and editing and all that scary stuff." Marluxia clasped his hands together and waltzed over to his desk. He proceeded to nibble on doughnuts placed on the neck of a beer bottle.

"Easy access," Kairi explained airily. She took out a can of crushed potato chips and drank them down, and then pulled out an itty-bitty pink, no surprise there, laptop. Her eyelids drooped and slim fingers flew across the keys at rapid speed. I watched in fascination, grateful for a distraction from Riku.

You are entering the twilight zone.

This phrase echoed internally as a shadow fell over me. I slowly turned with the theme song playing ominously in my mind, and saw, lo-and-behold, Riku surveying me as dully as before.

"…"

No one moved. It was all quiet — excluding the belch provided by Marluxia.

"You're Roxas' twin, right?" Riku asked with all the casualness in the world, but his eyes bored into mine with an intense contempt that brought back a barrage of memories. The dreams, the nightmares, all those memories were fake — yet Riku washere. If I reached out and touched his cheek, would it feel soft and warm?

"Sora," Kairi elaborated for my sake. Her voice was smooth in a bored sort of way, like she viewed Riku as important as a speck of dust.

Riku snorted, and then leapt to his feet simultaneously with the shrilling bell. He lingered at the door, hand resting on the frame and head tilted towards me. He smirked. "Send Roxas my…er…regards, will you, So-ra?" I watched him disappear in the mob of kids.

"That's Riku," Kairi said needlessly, "he doesn't get along well with Roxas, or anyone for that matter. He's a hottie, though, at least I'll give him that."

Somehow I knew Riku knew Kairi knew that he was a hottie, and an arrogant know-it-all. Although he spared no smiles for me, he hadn't changed a bit.

::.x.::

Kairi waved me off to my next class. Neither Roxas, Axel, or Demyx had it with me either. I searched fretfully for Selphie while entering the sterile white classroom. Everyone looked gaunt and ghostly under the strange lighting, except for Riku. His eyes, bright and a little feral, followed me as I sat, with some stubbornness, next to him.

"Your brother wouldn't like that," he chided with mock sternness, the same tone that Roxas used when he was being bossy.

I laughed. "Roxas doesn't like much of what I do, don't worry about it."

"Should've figured," said Riku. "He doesn't like anything, 'cept for Axel."

"And Demyx and…his other friends." I amended, feeling a weird twin-loyalty-thing. Riku snorted. I quickly changed the subject; "do you like history?"

"Nah," Riku's hair caressed his broad shoulders as he shook his head. "I failed this class last year, needed to take it again. You're sophmore, but should be junior." It wasn't a question. I blinked. "You don't remember?" I shook my head. A flicker of hurt flashed in his eyes. He turned away and before I could question his antics, the door flew open. I sighed. Another pyshco.

The man was tall, brooding, and silver-haired. "What is Future without Past?" His rhetorical question was slathered in drama similar to that of Romeo and Juliet. During the death scene. "I, Xemnas, will inform you of past mistakes to blaze a path to your future. Prepare, my lovely students! For the past is far more eternal than that radiance of yours." He was pointing at me. He was pointingatme. Riku cleared his throat and scooted away.

And then Xemnas went on to explain how the past mistakes of world leaders in particular would help with our quests of world domination. Or something like that — he might have said "careers" instead of "world domination", but we all knew what he really meant. I was actually really getting into the whole speech after awhile, that is, until Riku leaned over the aisle and murmured; "do lunch with me?" and his lips, soft and moist, brushed my earlobe.

After class was over, I stayed in my seat, and Riku did the same. He watched me expectantly. "Okay," I agreed, even though I'd already made a promise with Roxas and his friends. Maybe we could come to a compromise…?

I automatically followed Riku out of the classroom and through the bustling halls. The dining hall was located in the center of the estate. It was five times as large as the average high school cafeteria, though, needless to say, the entire school only took up about half of its size. By then, people knew who I was. Their heads turned, eyebrows rose, and the shouting and screaming and 'O-M-G's quieted. Seconds later, the hall broke out into a hum of gossipy whispers.

Roxas, flanked by Axel and Demyx and a rather large group of people, made their way over to us. I didn't want to notice it, but I did; people leapt out of their way, downcast their eyes, and even some bowed their heads. It was…surreal and strange and annoying. Roxas and company were unfazed.

"The hell?" Roxas spat. "I refuse to let mydarlingbrother eat with scum like you." The pure hatred radiating off his leer was enough to make me flinch, even though it was directed fully on Riku. Compromise my ass.

"Uhm, I'll still eat with you, Roxas," I left out inquiring why he cared at all. "Riku and his friends could join us."

"Riku doesn't have friends," Roxas said, and Riku faltered. At that moment Kairi, with Selphie tagging along, stomped over to us. I hadn't noticed our bickering group — Roxas' friends hadn't said much, but the glowers were enough to express their opinion on the matter — had attracted quite a crowd. I doubted Kairi was there to defend Riku, but I imagined she preferred eating in peace.

"Where wouldSoralike to sit?" Kairi, and the school, directed their attention to me like my opinion really mattered. I gulped. The spotlight and I don't exactly get along, especially when it came to something that isn't all that important.

"I don't care, I'm hungry!" I blurted, and the growling of my stomach confirmed such. Demyx eagerly asked what I wanted, snatched the money that I'd been stupidly holding out in the open, and went to go get my sandwich. I hoped he wasn't stealing it, but couldn't do much because Roxas had taken that moment of distraction to usher me to a lengthy, spotless table located in the middle of hall. Riku had managed to gain a spot next to me, and Demyx was on the other side with my food. I didn't carehow stupid the whole affair was; that poor Riku supposedly didn't have any friends, that Kairi and Selphie had squeezed in a bunch of giggly girls that were silence by the death glare of a female with insect-like blond hair, that a table that was meant for ten now was overloaded with about twenty — it was the delicious salami and cheese and mustard and starch bread that had captivated my attention.

As it turns out, the lunch period, no matter how superficially important, isn't very long. After my schedule having been passed around the table, without my consent, it was concluded that my next class period would be shared by Demyx. Music appreciation was another elective my counselor believed would bring out the "creative" side in me. It was located outside, near the dining hall that was placed in the center of the circular courtyard. I trudged beside a talkative Demyx. I learned that he was a sophomore, like me, and was a year younger, though he was very tall and wiry. His energy was contagious and brought my mood up, which had been dampened by the rush the day had put me through.

The class was, predictably, in the music room. It was quiet, except for ancient sounds that were still ringing faintly in the air. It gave me chills. There were no chairs. Standing in front of the classroom was a placid woman whose doe eyes briefly met mine before skimming to something over my shoulder.

"Hello there," she waved cutely. That caught the male majority's attention. She had brunette hair fashioned in a long braid that was held by a large pink ribbon. She wore an ankle-length cherry dress. "Let's start with introductions, shall we?" Despite her small voice, the teacher's words had a captivating and nearly impish quality about them. "Please refer to me as Aerith. Surnames are much too formal for a class whose origins started with freeform beats and rhythms and melodies." Aerith did not, as my other teachers, launch any further into the subject, nor did she boast about it with exaggerated fondness. We formed a circle on the carpet, and she joined us on her knees.

"Demyx!" the blond declared. The circle continued with names I would never remember, but their faces were unforgettable(in good ways and the bad).

"Sora," the group said impassively when it was my turn.

"I believe that was unnecessary," Aireth giggled at my disgruntlement. "We shall overlook reputations, gossip, and all things prejudice while attending this class, and hopefully you will get into the habit of treating others with equality afterwards as well."

Reluctant murmurs of agreement.

::.x.::

After class Demyx led me back across the grounds. He was, strangely, quietly watching me. "Is it weird having everyone know who you are?" He asked me earnestly. "Like Harry Potter."

"Not for anything remotely heroic, though." A group of girls eagerly waved at me, and burst into giggles after I returned the gesture. The next person walking in the opposite direction had me fixated under a cold, unmoved gaze. I vaguely remembered him as the sulky guy with choppy hair covering one of his droopy eyes that had sat next to Demyx during the lunch period. He hadn't spoken to me or anyone else for that matter, and would only look up from the thick novel, currently carried protectively against his chest, if Demyx had said something.

"Zexy!" Demyx latched onto his stoic friend. "This is my bestest friend ever!" He didn't notice 'Zexy' attempting to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Zexion," he corrected.

"Z-e-x-i-o-n, got it memorized?" Axel jumped out of nowhere, and laughed as I fell onto Demyx. The redhead declared 'GROUP HUG!' and he and Demyx had a death-hug on Zexion and me. I heard Roxas sigh irately behind us. Axel succeeded in stuffing my brother into the middle of us, and I found it unbearable not participate in the hug.

The bell echoed in the balmy air and the kids stalling between classes all went "SHIT!" and scampered into the building. Demyx led Zexion and me by the wrists while Axel carried, bridal-style, a hollering Roxas through the outer hall, separated from the grounds by rows of pillars, and into the classroom.

The geometry teacher was brunet, handsome, and the epitome of apathetic. He continued lecturing in a droll tone and didn't spare us a glance as we scrambled to our seats. I felt a pair of eyes watching me, and glanced back. Riku smirked and gestured to the desk next to him. I took it, at the cost of Roxas growling lowly.

"Squaaaall," a petite black-haired senior whined way out of turn. "Can you tryto be less boring?"

"Will you pass this year if I do?"

"Well"

"Then no." Squall added; "and call me Professor Leon, will you?"

"Only if you be less boring!"

Sigh, went Professor Leon.

Something slipped under my hand. I looked from a half-asleep Riku, then to the note, then back to half-asleep Riku. I opened it.

That's Yuffie, senior who's presumably the greatest ninja in the world.

Ninja, really? I casually, at least hoping I was, passed the note.

You're still as gullible as ever.

I balked. It was ten minutes before I digested what he was saying. How would you know?

It'll come back to you, with time. Maybe I can help you figure it out. Call me.

At the bottom of the crumpled piece of paper was a scribbled phone number. I pocketed it.

::.to be continued.::

Writer's block is purged from my system! HUZZAH!...so, yeah, new story excitement and all that jazz. Review it. Make love to it. Anything to get me updating like a maniac(more for my benefit than yours, buuuut)
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& it'll be 10-20 chapters, depending on the lengths of the chapters and how much fluffies are needed to expand the plot(it's way character driven. Meep)