I'm sorry. This scene just had to be rescued from the dead Sora/Riku/Kairi fic it was originally part of. The rest is still…pretty dead.
Sora was trying in vain to pull a jug of maple syrup off the top shelf of the large pantry one fine day in Hollow Bastion, his tongue halfway out the side of his mouth and his weight balanced precariously on the toes of one bare foot. This is what heroes did on their days off, or at least what this one did. Hercules probably bench-pressed live oxen, but Sora was Sora, and his preferred training method was the ancient and time-honored tradition of stuffing his face with Kairi's pancakes.
Riku, who had just returned from an early morning sparring match with Yuffie, observed this amusing display for a few moments before walking in and grabbing the canister of flour from the same shelf. Sora stopped to glare at him, then at the syrup.
"Do you need me to find you a phonebook?" Riku asked innocently.
Sora gave Riku a look, a look that in its depth managed to communicate: 'if you weren't my best friend and also coincidently good in bed, I would disembowel you with a giant key and leave you bleeding on the pantry floor while I ate my goddamn pancakes.'
"You might want to consider it. Even Kairi can reach the top shelf," said Riku.
"No she can't," said Sora defensively, without any factual evidence to support this claim.
"Yes, she can," called out Kairi from her vantage point next to the icebox, where she had been investigating their supply of buttermilk. "And I thought you could fly."
"I couldn't fly, I could glide, and pixie dust wears off after a few months, smartypants," Sora said, coming back into the kitchen empty-handed. "I need to get…um…resprinkled. It's totally on my to-do list."
"Item one: buy milk," Riku said, ticking each off on his fingers. "Item two: save world. Item three: buy collapsible stepladder. Item: FUCK! Sora, that was my foot!
"Oops. My mistake."
"Would you three like an impartial bystander to settle this?" asked Aerith, looking up from the pile of coffee-stained meetings agendas spread out at her place at the table.
"I think we would," said Sora, glaring at Riku.
"Does hair count?"
"Yes," said Sora.
"No." said Kairi.
Aerith arranged them together in front of the counter, back to back, and squashed down Sora's case of permanent bedhead as flat as it would go before taking her measurements. "Kairi. By half an inch," she stated without fanfare, and went back to her paperwork.
Riku imagined the wail of despair could be heard all the way into the castle bailey.
I feel your pain, Sora. I feel your pain. On the flipside, long plane trips can be undertaken in relative comfort, and I've yet to whack my head on the ceiling.