Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Kingdom Hearts.
Cynicism
Dark. Midnight. It was raining somewhere in the distance, but that didn't stop the thunder from crashing over them. The lightning to strike overhead, breaking through a tree. Work for the firemen and the electricians to get the tree off the wire, give the people back their power.
Outside of a night club, someone lay on the ground, bleeding. It had taken most of his energy to drag himself from a gang fight to this place. To safety, maybe, from the fight where so many of his friends and comrades had died on that cold street. But the club was dirty, the people within too doped up on drugs to notice the shadowed figure outside the door.
Within, a pair had broken up. The man angry, the girl belligerant. She'd cheated on him--did she know how much he'd done for her? Her new man too doped up to notice the bigger man, angry, hitting his girl until the bouncers threw him out. She'd drink more after this, angry, and her ex would pay because he'd dropped his wallet. She wouldn't touch his credit card, because his credit was stretched thinner than hers, but he had money. A lot of it--he's just gotten paid.
Idiots shouldn't get their check in cash, but dealers didn't like checks, and Idiot didn't like paper trails. All the easier for her.
Outside, Idiot tripped over the bleeding man, but didn't notice the blood. He thought the man was drunk, passed out on the stoop. Even if he noticed, he wouldn't care--who did in this part of town? In the morning, he might notice the blood on his pants, but he would still be more angry with his ex over his money. She might die over it, and her new man might notice that she didn't come around like she said she would, but he'd shrug it off. It wasn't like they were that great in bed anyway.
Idiot might get caught for the murder, but it wasn't likely. More likely would be his ex's little brother getting high and shooting him down in the streets while he bought himself a burger. He'd end up going to jail for that, and someone would break his neck a few weeks afterward. His killer would be out on parole for good behavior not too much later.
Prison was crowded these days.
Around four in the morning, someone would notice the body outside of the club. The rain had finally gotten their way, and he was now soaked. Sometimes the building would keep the rain off him, but too often the wind blew it sideways. Three minutes before he would lose conscious, a man knelt down in front of him.
He worked with cops these days, had a wife and three kids, and experienced what was probably his worst fight with his wife just that morning. Probably, because she mentioned the word "divorce," and she wouldn't stop throwing things at him.
Stress kept him from seeing the kid, just wanting to do his job, quiet this place down so the neighbors could get their peace. The body on the doorstep was just something he didn't need.
"Hey kid, you need to get home," he told him. Silence was his answer. "You hear me, kid?"
He knelt beside him, touched him. "You all right?"
He saw the blood. "Holy...he's bleeding! Get an ambulance out here, pronto!"
Finally, he saw the boy--little more than a kid. About the age of his son, the one who died. Tim. Little Timothy. Tiny Tim.
By the time the ambulance arrived, the boy had lost consciousness. The man held his hand, willed him to live. Half way to the hospital, the boy died. Hours later, the man's partner set a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Mick."
At 4:43am, the boy--listed there as John Doe was legally declared dead, killed by a bullet that went straight through him, nicking a lung. Gang colors were found on him, and tied him to the gang war on Central Street. A circumstance that made him less than human in the police's eyes.
No one ever found out who the boy really was.
Outside of the club where the boy was found, the rain long since gone, another boy--only slightly older than the first--stood on the place the other had been, studying the bloodstains with morbid fascination. He'd watched him die, followed him as he crawled here, his hand on the trigger of his gun. Waiting to shoot him. End him.
Instead, he'd gained amusement from watching him die.
"You're a sadist," his companion said, appearing next to him. He stood in the shadows, cloaked in darkness. "There's nothing to be gained here. Let's go home."
The boy smiled an unholy smile. "I'll stay."
When the other left him, he sat down in the same spot the younger boy had lain. His hand rested on the blood stain.
And Riku said goodbye to his old friend.
Note: A bit dark? And yes, there is mention of death. And yes, Riku was the one who shot the kid in the first place.
Who was the kid, you ask? Obviously Sora. Filling the other parts, Larxene would be the girl who cheated on her boyfriend (Marluxia) with Axel, and Luxord would be her younger brother (yes, I keep writing him younger--no idea why). Person who kills him--Saix.
Mick (the cop who found Sora) is obviously Mickey, and his son Tim is a reference to A Christmas Carol. Tiny Tim. Riku's companion is just as obviously Ansem.
This is so AU if I didn't name Riku as Riku it could easily have been an original short, at just over a page long. 835 words.
In case you were wondering, this has nothing to do with my AU High School Kingdom Hearts fic...it was originally intended to be a short Riku backstory, first for that series, then a prologue to a different one, where the team goes into law enforcement and special forces, trying to catch the bad guy--probably Ansem.
Needless to say, it mutated, so. Hope you enjoyed--please review.