Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in the Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy series. Neither do I own their plot. Ownership rights belong to SquareSoft, Square Enix, and Disney. This fanfiction is written by a fan for fans and has no intentions of monetary gains.
Summary: Sora/Riku. One-Shot. It was that cold winter night in the moonlight silver...that was the night we made promises left unsaid.
YUBIKIRI:
Pinky Promise
By:
Yukisora
...If you break the promise, you'll have to swallow a thousand needles...
---
"A promise is a cloud; fulfillment is rain." —Arabian Proverb
---
Your lover promised you forever. Nobody else, not a single person in this world, could make them feel the way you do. You believe them, because they're your lover and you're their lover and you just can't help but love them.
Your parents swore to you that there was Santa. Santa Claus is real! If you believe in him and be a good little boy and girl, you'll find a big surprise under the Christmas tree on Christmas day. You, of course, believe them, because they're your parents and, really, why shouldn't you believe in Santa?
Your best friend in grade school gave you her word that you'll be best friends forever. You'll call her and she'll call you, and you'll never stop being friends. You agreed and gave her that last hug. And graduated.
Later on, you find out your lover has a new lover. And this new lover is most definitely somebody else and can make them feel the way you do. Maybe even better. You're seven and one night, in your enthusiastic innocence, you 'caught Santa' only to realize it was your father dressed in an oversized red suit. The best friend from fifth grade that promised she'll be best friends with you forever forgot to call and you, of course, didn't call back.
In this world, there are only three types of people. Those who keep their promises, those who don't; and then, there were those, rare as they are, who never make a promise, regardless whether they're able to keep them or not.
Oh my God, the documents are still in the car! Make excuses? I promise I'll be back in five.
Urk, I'm broke. Cover me? I'll treat you next time, promise.
Here's a deal. If you finish cleaning your room by three, I promise to let you play that game for five more hours.
I promise. I promise. I promise.
- - -
"NO! It has to be our right! It has to!"
"But I'm a lefty. Anyway, it's not a big deal, Riku! I promise, okay? I promise."
Releasing the breath that he'd been holding, long veils lifted, unsealing to reveal the precious pools of aquamarine. The first blast of cold air thrashed against it, causing the veils to shift down. To guard. To heal. To protect.
Stepping off the taxi, silver hair gleamed against droplets that drifted through the air, clinging to the soft tresses, as the stranger quietly walked through the long blocks of the gray pavement. Soft leather plodded against the rain and muck that ran down the streets, splashing a puddle here, smearing a stain there.
One hand, almost effeminate in its slender, smooth-white texture, reached up to swipe at a particularly enthusiastic strand of silver. Brushing it back with the rest, he smoothed out the frizz and wiped a couple of drops from his hair.
Over the mud and muck, he stepped carefully onto the cheerful welcome mat of one particular shop. The almost chirpy tingling of the bells reminded him of a canary's song, one from his visits to the many islands out in the Mediterranean. Closing his eyes, mentally shaking the comparison out of his mind, he stepped through the threshold and into the store.
"B-but...you promised. You pinky swore."
"Not now, Riku. Can't you see mommy's talking to the nice lady here?"
"But...but my...ice-cream..."
"Yes, honey. Later."
"Ah! I'm sorry! I'll be right there!" he heard someone shout. Looking over to his right, his eyes swept over the navy bow tied carefully over a white clad back. The quiet rummaging under the counter resounded throughout the entire store ending with a vehement 'fark!' just before a spikey head appeared.
"Hi! Welcome! Sorry, but can you wait just a moment? I need to wrap this and send it out." Pointing at a box wrapped in glittery gold wrapping, the clerk shrugged sheepishly and dashed out of sight calling out to someone.
Turning his attention away, he let those eyes filled with the many assortments—both common and priceless—sweep the room. It was as Kadaj had said—a store with everything that you'd ever need. Placed in an intimate, almost homey, way, the merchandise all but sold themselves. Satisfied that his cousin hadn't lied to him, he walked over to a display of flutes to fiddle with a couple of tassels.
He used to play. Fingering the keys and pressing down onto the soft-colored pieces, he let his fingers caress the strokes, dancing over a tune long forgotten.
"Hi, sorry about that." The clerk had arrived. Replacing the flute back onto its rack, he turned only to find the sapphire eyes of the clerk practically beaming at him.
"Do you play?" he grinned, pointing at the flute. "That was some fingering."
"No."
"Oh, well, too bad." The clerk shrugged, still smiling that same smile with those same eyes. "My name's Sora. Is there anything you're looking for in particular?"
Sora. Sora. Sky.
Shifting his gaze away from those disconcerting eyes, he shrugged. "I need a present for my boss."
"Birthday? What kind of guy is he?"
He followed him, eyes straying to the quiet swish of the soft spikes. He quietly fingered a porcelain doll. A shy smile was painted onto her face with long blond curls nestled underneath a bow that was big enough to cover her entire head. Eyes, glassy blue eyes, stared back up at his own sea-green pools, demanding him to look away.
Blue eyes. Blue eyes. Sora.
"He's quiet," he said, letting the doll go. He turned back to the clerk only to find him staring back at him. "Powerful. Rich."
"Ahh." Nodding in understanding, he tapped his chin quietly as he smirked. "Conservative? In his late fifties? Wants things done quick and efficient with lots of time to spare?"
He blinked. A hand reached up to tug on his silver strands. "No. He's in his late twenties." He paused. "I suppose he's conservative."
"Ohmmm...a young boss."
"I guess."
"Are you guys friends?" Sora asked as he dismissed a couple of plates and pointed at a crystal ashtray that glittered like diamonds.
"No, he doesn't smoke." He frowned, surveying the room. Nothing in here would match. "Thank you. I think this'll be it."
"You don't see anything?" Sora smiled. "Oh well, it's better if you don't push it. Oh, what's your name, anyway?"
He had been like that too, once upon a time. Easy-going, almost uncaring of the currents that flowed around the world. Languid, almost lazy, he had moved at a pace that was entirely his own. It had been the reason why he, Riku, had been captivated by him in the first place.
"You'll be there right? At my show?"
"Course."
"Riku. Just Riku."
---
Sora stepped out of the car, flashing a smile at the guard standing by his brother's large Victorian mansion. A small breeze brushed by, quietly ruffling his hair and clothes, fleeing the young man long before he recognized the familiar scent of mint. Above him, the stars winked against a cloudless sky, having been washed away by the last of the rain.
"When you're big, I'll take you out on Saturdays."
"Really! Really, really!"
The mahogany doors were already wide open, letting the mellow candlelight inside the mansion seep out to the cold-weary guests. He smiled at a couple of familiar faces, nodded at a few strangers, and briefly wondered if maybe his brother was insane. Clearly, his definition of 'quiet and intimate' was infinitely different from Sora's own.
"Sora, my boy!" A hearty clap nearly knocked his breath from his lungs. Turning, he found himself in front of a group of four, two of which were his parents. Uncle Charky smiled down at him as he straightened up.
"Well now, haven't seen you with the family in ages! When are you coming home to help your old man, eh?" Looking over to Sora's father, he added, "Have you ever thought of bringing Sora into the business? Goodness knows Cloud certainly did a good job of it. Look at this place, it's splendid! Isn't it, Sora? My boy?"
"Yes, Uncle Charky. Splendid. Hello, father, mother. Aunt Charmmy."
Aunt Charmmy gave off a quiet smile, as she leaned forward to air kiss her nephew.
"Hello Sora, dear. Are you coming home soon?"
"Sora has his own business."
Looking over to his father, the brunette nodded briefly. "Yes."
Cerulean orbs, so much like his own sapphire, gleamed down at him, as the elder man surveyed his son. "Everything has been well?"
"Yes, father." He briefly nodded over his parents' shoulders, hands raised in greeting, eyes trained resolutely on nothing but the white panes of the patio door. "Excuse me, father, mother. Aunt and Uncle." Bowing to them a little, he quickly made his way across the room and out the door.
"Wh-what do you mean, you and Zexion? What about you and me?"
"Sora...that's in the past. It's me and Zexion now."
A breather was what he needed. Definitely. Three minutes. Three minutes later, he'll be back inside that party with all those people, laughing and smiling. Closing his eyes against the night sky, he let the tension slowly seep out of his body. Even the wind with its bone-chilling claws wouldn't shake him from his position on the bench.
"Sora."
Blue eyes snapped open, turning to stare into the pool of sea-green that he had nearly drowned in earlier that afternoon. Automatically, a smile flitted into place. "Oh hey. 'Just Riku', right?"
"Yea." Still standing, the silver haired man stood before him, watching him quietly with those opulent eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"Celebrating my...is Cloud your boss?" Sora asked. Laughing when Riku nodded, he threw his head back. "Well, ha. Good thing you didn't buy anything from my store then!"
"Daddy, why does it rain?"
"Uhm...well, because the rain fairies are sad."
Somewhere behind them, a manservant shut the door to the patio. The light dimmed, drenching the two figures, one standing, one sitting, into nothing but the silvery glow of moonlight. Faintly inside, the centuries old tune erupted, accompanied by the orchestra.
"Sit," Sora smiled, patting the spot beside him.
"Why is it a good thing?" Riku asked, as he settled onto the seat beside Sora. "The present, I mean," he added, as Sora just stared.
Sora. Sora. Sky.
Blue eyes. Blue eyes. Sora
"Cloud's my brother," Sora explained, shrugging a little. The veils came down, hiding those eyes. Those incredible and exceptional eyes that almost no one, not even models, have. "And he doesn't really like the stuff I have. I came barehanded."
"I see." Inside, the song faded into nothing, silence.
"So! You're Riku, eh? The model, I guess?"
Cracking open his own eyes, he stared down at the silhouette of the man beside him, bathed in silver. "Yea."
"That's really cool," was all he said in reply.
"And you're a clerk. I think that's cool."
"Do you really?"
Looking over at him again, Riku stopped, when he found that those eyes were back. "Yea. My old friend was a clerk too."
"Oh yea?"
"Yea. He's a bit like you, only quieter and not as cheery."
"The gloomy type?"
"Not really." He paused and then, "Did you know? My first show was on your brother's birthday."
"No, I didn't know."
Riku stopped. "He promised to come to my show. My friend."
Sora smiled. Leaning over towards the man, he let his bangs fall over his face, veiling those eyes in a one-way mirror that allowed Sora to see everything, Riku nothing.
"He was special?" he whispered, brushing his forehead against Riku's. Hands ghosted over his abdomen, sneaking underneath the jacket only to curl into a fist at his heart. A breath broke out, haunting his skin.
Riku sucked in the night air.
"Yea."
As if guided by invisible hands, the space between them slowly closed. He felt his own eyes droop, as he stared down at those intense eyes. "What are we doing?" he whispered, feeling his own breath against Sora.
"Getting ready to kiss."
"Do we want to kiss?"
"I think so. Very much."
"Oh, well then. What are we waiting for?"
Riku nearly threw Sora onto the bench that they were sitting on, capturing those lips in a heated lip-lock that blew away the last of the night's chill. Hands fisted and released, running into hair that was silver, brunette, silver and brunette. Fingers curled around firm shoulders, nails digging into skin as smooth as alabaster.
"No promises, Sora, no promises," Riku murmured, letting his lips trail against Sora's smooth neck that tasted of bitter citrus.
"No," Sora agreed, letting his head fall back as Riku nibbled and sucked, blew and kissed. "None."
And then, someone came out from inside the party. Golden light penetrated the previous silver, splashing over the two that was still sprawled all over the bench in the balcony of the Victorian mansion that belonged to one of the two's brother. And, even as the manservant hurried back inside, the two were springing apart, both cursing in their minds.
"Listen, Sora...about that..."
"Are you apologizing?"
"No! I mean, yes—not that it was...Maybe."
"I started it. Don't worry, I won't tell Cloud that one of his models just tried to have a go with his brother. Not that, of course, he would care." Sora shrugged.
Riku blinked. "You're completely different from my initial impression of you."
Sora grinned. "Oh yea? What was your impression?"
"Straight as arrow, happy-go-lucky kid, whose biggest problems in life were whether he was late to work or not."
Riku smirked as he dodged Sora's kick. Falling back against him, the two of them stayed nestled on the bench, secluded from the party inside that included a working orchestra, too many guests to count, gigantic chandeliers, and a manservant, who witnessed something he shouldn't have.
"So, uh...are you dating anyone?"
"No. You?"
"Nope."
"Hey, that's cool."
"Just like being a clerk?"
"Sure."
"Then I guess that means my coolness factor's higher than yours."
Riku stood, pulling Sora up with him at the same time. The two stared at each other for a moment, straightening a tie or smoothing out a wrinkle. Brushing his silver strands back once, Riku nodded at the party.
"We probably need to be inside."
Sora smiled. "True. I didn't even greet Cloud yet."
"Oh. He'd be mad."
"Very."
And that was that. Sora walked in, Riku a bit later. Nobody had noticed their disappearance, and Cloud was glad he didn't receive anything from Sora.
"When you're big, I'll take you out on Saturdays."
"Really! Really really!"
"Sure. Promise."
"If you break your promise, you'll have to swallow a thousand needles!"
---
It would be three years later when the two met again. In another one of those dreary days, where the sky looked like it wanted to weep more than anything else, Riku stepped into a street café, letting the umbrella over him cover most of the wind and drizzle.
"Hot chocolate," he ordered, handing the menu to the waiter, who stepped towards him.
The man had only hurried into the café with his order ready, when brilliant sapphire caught his eye. "Mint tea," Sora smiled, handing over his own menu to the frazzled waiter. Letting his eyes drift out the window, he watched the clouds roll around in the sky, building up to a tantrum.
They blinked, brilliant orbs of unnatural colors, when the glint of the sun reflected on the windowpane. Aquamarine widened as sapphire—the startling sapphire that almost nobody, not even models, have—locked onto his own. They caught each other, with the thick piece of invisible glass between them, drowning, melting. Suffocating.
Moonlight, cool air, and the fresh scent of mint and citrus burst into mind. A flash, maybe two, and then the eyes averted. Sea-green eyes stared out to the passing pedestrians. Intense sapphire beamed up at the startled waiter.
"Sorry, can you make that to go?" he smiled as he stood from his seat.
After all, Sora, at the young age of eight, learned that there were no rain fairies. There would be no Saturday night outs when he was big. Or perhaps, he wasn't big yet.
Promises, after all, were best left unmade.
Riku knew when it was, exactly, that Sora left. It was almost as though the air rippled. The presence just disappeared. That one chilly night so, so long ago resurfaced, sneakily stealing to the frontlines again, as every detail was remembered. Silvery silhouettes that glided in the night, nails that bit, and promises left unsaid.
Perhaps he was the only one who remembered.
"No promises, Sora, no promises."
"No, none."
Then again, perhaps he wasn't.
He left the hot chocolate where it was, steaming on its cup in that table underneath the umbrella. A couple of droplets messed with his hair, making the straight silver frizz on its ends once again.
Riku wasn't a promise-maker, because he no longer liked ice cream.
Sora wasn't a promise-maker, because he stayed home on Saturdays.
"Mommy! Mommy! Guess what? I finished all my vegetables! Just like I promised you I would!"
"Now, isn't that wonderful, sweetie?"
"Will I see Santa now?"
"If you're a good girl."
In this world, there are only three types of people. Those who kept their promises, those who don't; and then, there were those, rare as they are, who never made a promise, regardless whether they're able to keep them or not.
I promise. I promise. I promise.
End
Author's Corner
This fanfic is for minari-chan, winner of the 5000+ hits contest. She wanted a little fluffy/angst story featuring Sora and Riku from Kingdom Hearts.
Don't we all remember those little promises we sealed with the twists of the two fingers? Broken or not, they either enlighten or haunt our memories.
Yubikiri is Japanese for "Pinky Swear." Thus, note the title.
Note to all readers/writers! The new contest for Single Dream, 10,000+ hits contest is up and running as of today. For more details, please visit the contest link on my homepage to check for conditions and prizes.
End
Thanks for reading! Please take a little time to review!
Lots
of greets,
Yukisora
Edited
by: Wake-Robin
Last
Checked: August 26, 2006