I would like to start this story off with an apology. When I was writing Kingdom Hearts fanfiction many months ago, I wrote some terrible and offensive stuff. I'm not taking it down because I think it's important to track progress, but if you haven't experienced my post-AT era writing, I urge you not to. It's pretty nasty. This story's me wiping the slate clean. I haven't written KH for a while, but I replayed 368/2 Days and now I'm covered in tears. I might as well do something about it.
Aqua has never stayed in one place for too long. She's only had glimpses of normality amidst the whirlwind of chaos that is her life on the road. A small town grocery store where a middle-aged man helped an old women to her car as they talked with an air of fondness. The familiarity of two best friends walking through the park with a dog on a loose leash. The unadulterated laughter of children at play. These are only short wisps observed in passing, as she has stood pedestrian in the grand scheme of life through her travels. Sure, she's enrolled at school and converses with the populace in whatever new state her father's work takes her, but she's never had a foundation that reaches outside her and her dad. There was no time to solidify friendships, and attempting to do so would be like trying to build Rome in a day. Change was an obstacle she was constantly at ends with. But a year or two back, she was admitted to a penpal program by her concerned father. She met her first real friend, and though it didn't take a day, Rome was built, and that's all she could ever ask for. Within the first week of sending e-mails and letters to him, she felt there was a connection there. A friend who got her in so many ways no one else could, in so many ways no one else would even try to understand. He also described the place he lived to her, and she pictured it in her head, adding new details with every new piece of information. A bench on 34th street. A speed limit sign near the pavilion. A bike rack on school grounds. It was small stuff, but it amounted to so much for a girl who could never familiarize herself with her surroundings. He never did tell her the place, but she could guess by the ornery complaints about the weather, it was some place in the northern United States. They exchanged phone numbers, and whenever she texted, he would answer promptly, without hesitation. He was always there for her, when she needed to spill something that had been bothering her, or rant to someone about good news. And, boy, did she have good news to share.
Her father had finally gotten his GED, and with it, he qualified for a stable job. She was finally getting a chance to settle down somewhere. She had told him the place, Canton, Ohio, that afternoon, but he still hadn't e-mailed, IM, or texted her back. He said he was busy today, though, so she knew he wouldn't have gotten it right away, but she was still anxious about his reply. She really needed his support on this because, even though this is what she's dreamed of for years, something about Canton just doesn't feel right.
It's 6:00 AM when Aqua arises from her bed sheets like a ghost ship from a nocturnal fog. Casting aside their warmth, she walks as a purely infected zombie would to the bathroom sink and applies cold water to her face, as if curing the undead from her step. She backs into her closet and into a pair of patched, skin-tight jeans, still reeling from the icy bite of the water. After pulling on a snug-fitting beige knitted sweater, she adds a hat for good, warm measure. You can never be too careful in these wintry months. Everyone will be coming back from Christmas break today.
Aqua descends the stairs with a growing composure as her exposure to the freezing wood flooring in her new house jolts the cobwebs from her mind. She takes a few bites of toast before lights come whizzing down the street.
Who wanted to take the bus anyway?
When she drives up to the student parking lot in her dad's beat up Mazda with Sahara by Relient K pumping through the abused, throbbing speakers, all windows rolled down. She knows it's an icy morning, and that she'll be sporting icicles on her eyelashes and nose by the time she gets there, but she doesn't care all that much. Her penpal hasn't texted/IM'd/e-mailed/ her back since she told him the good news. She fears the worst has become of her dear friend, and music is the best way to drown out her mind. Though bystanders who don't appreciate the racket she's making offer glaring stares in protest and some wary glances, she tries so hard to concentrate on the lyrics. She parks with only slight apprehension for the coming day.
Homeroom wasn't all that bad. Really. It was more of a learning experience than anything else. Aqua learned that you never sit in the seat next to a pissed jock's girlfriend. Like, ever. Resist the temptation at all costs. He taught her a lesson like no other, that's for sure. One that bruised her wrists a bit. But over all, it wasn't that bad. Really. If the teacher had seen, or was present for most of the time, things could've really spiraled out of control.
She was wary during first period and second period, on her toes to who was possibly an enemy, and who was safe. Her mind reverted back to survival mode, like it always does when she's the victim of negative, physical contact. She isn't exactly a stranger to schools like this, where anything goes. She's picked up pretty quickly that there are only two favorable options. To lay low and stay off everyone's radar or to fight and win. And Aqua was in no mood or shape to conquer anything. That's why, come lunchtime, she immediately vacated the cafeteria, choosing to eat her ill-prepared turkey sandwich in the calm solitude of the elements. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, almost throwing itself out of her jeans in a fit of anger. She pressed enter to end its temper tantrum.
Aqua! So sorry for the late text, but I just got your e-mail now. (In study hall they let you use computers to do whatever, so I guess this is my whatever.) That's really exciting, I hope it's everything you've wanted. Maybe I could make a trip over there and visit you. Wouldn't that be cool, meeting in person?
Her heart warms at the thought and she smiles widely to herself. Of course he was in no danger, she knew this from the start, but, still, relief fluttered through her veins.
Definitely. But I don't know about this school. It's another rough one and I just can't move away like I normally do.
She never sends the text because behind her there's a strong rustle of bush and before she has time to blink, a kid with blonde hair is being launched in her direction. Startled, she stands from the bench and takes in the lithe boy's form lying on the floor.
"Who are…" Aqua starts, but she doesn't get too far.
"Ventus! You blew our cover!" A boy with black hair shrieked, running out from the shrubbery to the fallen blonde.
"Well," he mumbles, getting up from the ground and dusting snow off his pants, "you're the one who pushed me."
"You're the one who asked for it," He folded his arms across his chest, casting a wary glance in the bush's direction, "You guys can come out now. Might as well be formally introduced."
Nothing came from the bush, not even a sound.
"Really? Come on, you're not helping anyone…" he waited a bit, "If I have to come over there and get you, it's not going to be pretty."
He charged at the bush, and seeing as how no one was there, ran further into the school vegetation. He emerged victorious, two boy's collars caught in the iron grip of his fist. He throws them further, where Aqua is standing with a slack jaw, as if they were shoes a mother had told her lackluster child to put away.
"If you had followed me, we could've gotten away, but no, you had to take your own shortcut."
"Me? You're the one who got us caught with that whole oh-let-me-snap-this-branch-and-make-it-obnoxiously-loud gambit."
"You're both idiots, and you both got caught, now can you two stop for a second?"
The two boys sat up and were quiet.
"Well. Hello, Aqua. Sorry for the intrusion, I'm Vanitas, that's Sora, Ventus, and his clone, Roxas."
"Not a clone!" Roxas interjected.
"Um, hi. How did you know my name?"
Ventus elbowed Vanitas, "Smooth."
"Um. Yes. About that…"
"Don't tell her!" Sora whispered, a little too loudly.
"Are you dumb or something?" he snapped, "Like, seriously, I want to know what that something is if you have a reasonable explanation for the sheer stupidity that flows clear and unpolluted from your mouth everyday. And of all the days! If we get in trouble, your can's going to be thoroughly kicked. I mean it."
"I guess word of what happened this morning's already gotten around," she said a little too quickly, eager to divert the subject, "Um, forget I asked. But, your name's Ventus, right?"
"The one and only."
"Yeah, if you don't count the clone." Vanitas grins.
"Not a clone!"
"Mhmm. Right. Well, it's been nice talking to you boys." She says, backing away, "But I think that was the lunch bell." She walks away at a jogger's pace.
"We don't have a lunch bell."
She slips out her phone and erases the text she was typing before.
Ventus, I'm really confused right now.