Author's Note: I know I should be working on something that is not new, like Second Sky or Face or whatever, but I needed a break from those, so I churned out this. It's a prologue, of sorts, to a new fic. There are quite a few pairings, so I wasn't sure what to list this as, so I went with the good ol' Riku/Sora. I hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I think we all know that I do not own Kingdom Hearts.
Blackbird
Chapter One: "Where Fears and Lies"
When Axel met Roxas, he was bored. He was mind-numbingly bored – to the point where cracking knuckles and picking at split ends and drowning himself in Johnnie Walker just didn't help anymore.
And so, with his empty head, and idle hands, and fraying strands of hair and drunken breath, he lifted himself from his tag-sale couch and stumbled into the real world. He stumbled blindly into reality, and when the boredom-Novocain, and the scotch haze wore off he found himself in the center of his nowhere town, staring up at a sign which read "Sanctuary".
Not even he could miss the irony of it.
And maybe it was the irony, not the boredom, that compelled him to push at the door, hoping, with some small corner of the heart he swore did not exist, that it was not locked.
It wasn't. It swung open easily, and Axel lazily surveyed the interior, shivering in the electric warmth of an overactive heater.
On both sides of him, small, circular tables and matching chairs lined the walls. His sharp, emerald gaze followed their path further into the room.
Gleaming wooden floors…spotless glass guarding decadent cakes and pastries…more tables…
And, behind the counter, a mess of blonde hair and sharp, pensive blue eyes.
The first thing Axel thought of was how familiar those eyes were.
And then, he thought of…
"We're closing soon," the familiar-eyed boy said with a lazy sort of verbal bite, "so if you want coffee or anything, it's now or never."
Nothing about the kid's tone reminded him of anything.
But, damn, those eyes…and that impatient little pout.
"Right," Axel muttered, walking up to the counter and digging right into those eyes with his own.
He was bored.
"You make Irish coffee?"
"We don't have a liquor license."
"Then no Irish coffee?"
"No."
"Axel."
"What?"
"Axel. My name is Axel," he drawled impatiently, "Got it memorized?"
Crossing his arms over his chest, the blonde snorted, "What kind of a name is that?"
"What's your name then, huh?" Axel snapped.
"Roxas."
"Roxas," Axel found himself completely incapable of doing anything but repeating the name, and through repetition he found that he could not, to his disappointment, hate it. "Not much better, but I kinda like it."
"Sure. So…?" Roxas arched one blonde brow and cocked his head to the side.
"So what?"
"Coffee?"
"Triple shot cappuccino. Super dry. Cocoa powder on top."
With an exasperated half-sigh, Roxas slumped on to the counter and growled. "I just finished cleaning the espresso maker."
"Then it's guaranteed I won't have any leftover grounds in my cappuccino," Axel replied smartly.
"No, it's guaranteed you won't have any cappuccino."
"Now that's just not fair."
Roxas glared at Axel, his eyes ruthlessly blue and familiar, and still pensive.
"Do you always look like that?" the redhead inquired.
"Like what?" the blonde ground out.
"Like you're thinking about something else?"
Roxas's shoulders rose and fell with an apathetic sort of gracefulness, and Axel decided that he liked the way the kid's shoulders curved into his neck.
"If you wanted a cappuccino, you should have come earlier."
"I didn't even know this place existed until just now, okay?"
"No need to get defensive," Roxas muttered.
"I'm bored," Axel offered as some demented explanation.
"So you come to get coffee? If you're bored, a triple shot of espresso will kill you."
"Then give me something else to do with my bored little mind, kid."
He smirked, and Roxas's eyebrow rose once more. His pensive eyes studied Axel for a moment, his impatient pout returning as his expression relaxed a little.
"Okay," he almost snapped, hopping onto the counter and sliding off of it, landing neatly beside Axel. Their shoulders brushed briefly, and the redhead delighted in Roxas's swift withdrawal.
"I thought you were closing up?"
"That apathetic-grace shrug appeared again as Roxas headed towards the door.
"I'll blame it on Marluxia. Bastard left early tonight, and is about to get fired anyway."
"I like your way of thinking," Axel replied with a laugh.
He was bored. He had been for quite some time, and he would be for a good while to come.
But he was planning, and Roxas just might prove mildly interesting.
When Sora met Riku, he had no idea what hit him. Seeing Riku's face as they passed on the street was like walking into a brick wall and falling backwards into the warm, tropical water of his eyes.
And as Sora was drowning, his brick-addled brain not able to recognize it as such just yet, a pretty girl with violet eyes and a half-hearted smile walked by with her pretty, fateful purse.
And the next thing Sora knew, he was being dragged off in the opposite direction of his destination by one of the many straps on his overly decorated pants.
His tropical ocean was sucked dry with an almost audible slurp then, as he stumbled after the violet eyed girl, sputtering for breath and groping for her attention.
When she stopped, he thanked God – under his breath, of course – and reached out to tap her on the shoulder.
That was when a faceless passerby, who may or may not have been Fate, knocked into the girl, sending her reeling sideways.
Sora was sure he was about to drown in concrete as everything slowed and he spilled forward.
Somewhere in the not-concrete distance, a pretty girl with a sticky purse shrieked and a pale, strong arm invaded Sora's vision as it snaked around his waist.
Reality ground to a halt as he steadied, both feet firmly planted on the concrete he had almost drowned in once upon a time, far, far away and long, long ago.
He turned, his thanks hanging in midair, still a breath waiting to be inhaled and muttered into words.
But it fluttered away, off into reality as Sora drowned again. Instead he breathed in sweet water, warm and clear.
When Riku met Sora, he smiled and mouthed the words, "you're welcome."
"Ohmigosh! I'm so sorry!" the pretty girl with violet eyes and a half-hearted smile cried, unhooking Sora from the strap of her pretty, fateful purse. "I am so, so sorry! I didn't realize…"
She paused, took a deep breath, and held her hand out to the boy she'd caught, like a drowning fish, and her smile was maybe about three-quarters hearted now.
"Kairi," she chirped.
The little, drowning fish smiled up at his ocean and whispered, "Sora."
"Riku," was the silver-haired savior's reply, soft and hushed like waves on warm, white sand.
Kairi blinked her sweet, amethyst eyes.
When Kairi met Riku and Sora, for the first time, she might as well have barged in on them in the bedroom.
"You okay, Sora?" Riku whispered with a slight smirk.
Sora shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling with a grace that was filled with silent meaning.
"I could be better."
"There's a nice little café just down the street. Coffee might help."
"Coffee would definitely help."
Neither noticed as Kairi and her purse disappeared into the crowd as they crossed the street.
When reality came to rest around him again, Sora found himself looking up at a sign, which read "Sanctuary".
He smiled, as Riku pushed the door open and ushered him inside.
On both sides of him, small, circular tables and matching chairs lined the walls. His soft, sapphire gaze followed their path further into the room.
Gleaming wooden floors…spotless glass guarding decadent cakes and pastries…more tables…
And, behind a counter, a mess of blonde hair and sharp, pensive blue eyes.
Sora tensed. Something about that sharp gaze reminded him of…
"I like yours better."
That soft crash of wave on warm, white sand again.
"What?"
Riku nodded towards the familiar-eyed boy behind the counter.
"His blue is too sharp, too harsh, I like yours better. Calm, deep, sincere. Like the ocean."
Sora blushed and looked questioningly up at the silver-haired, silver-tongued savior.
"I'm an artist. It's my job to look at things," he offered as some sort of explanation. "I have a few paintings in an exhibit that's opening tonight. Would you like to accompany me?"
The brunette blinked slowly, "But…"
"It's an art show, Sora. No one there is going to care, or even be remotely surprised, if my date is another guy."
Sora laughed, and he watched as Riku drowned in the bright, cheerful sound, and Sora drowned right along with him.
Three years later, Sora was still drowning.
And he would have given anything to know how to save himself.