Author's Note: Okay, this fanfic has been in my brain for over a year now, and I finally got it out of my system! It went through a few makeovers in the process, and the most recent one involved throwing in some characters from KH: CoM and KH2. Some of the CoM characters' personalities are guessed at, since, frankly, I found the game far too boring to actually play through more than two worlds. So please bear with that, or nicely point out any OOC incidents, because I have no clue how in or out of character they are. Other than that, I hope you enjoy the fic!
Disclaimer: I hate these things. Everyone knows I don't own Kingdom Hearts. Old habits die hard though…so here I am…disclaiming.
Masquerade
Chapter One: "Villains, of a Sort"
Strong arms folded around him, burying him in warm, tan skin, drowning him with the stench of sweat and fear as bruises sprung up under long, curling fingers. His cries were silent as the bruises darkened and black blood spilled forth from his eyes. A hot mouth devoured him, stifling his breath and causing the darkness to spread over his body. Pale skin turned pitch black as he fought the giant that tried to restrain him, tried to contain the darkness within his small frame.
His body ached as it spread through his limbs and warm, sticky tears left streaks of tar on his cheeks and he curled into himself with silent screams. Whispering, the giant tangled fingers in his fair hair. The words were meant as comfort, he knew, but they crashed and roared like thunder and lions, the giant's pearly teeth bared in hungry smirks.
He was scared, and sick of his fractured tongue as it spat out nothing but air; air which would not stick to his lungs and feed him, save him. The giant stole all his air with its hot mouth and bruising fingers and devoured it.
Letting out a final, silent scream, he clawed at his aching flesh, laughing as it burst under his nails, blood splashing through the air as liquid hate and slaying the giant. He could breathe now, with his new, pale skin. He could breathe, and cold arms helped him, slipping about his waist as soft, starlit wings enveloped him. Feather tips tickled his back and he smiled, hands sliding over smooth, cool skin and hungry mouth finding solace with soft lips that breathed wind and not fire.
Twilight eyes smiled at him, glittering and glistening and dancing as fingertips walked slowly, deliberately down his chest. Warmth and light flooded the delicate path, cascading down tensed muscles and pooling beneath a waiting hand.
He whispered one pleading word and the starlight wings fell away, pure feathers melting into ink as twilight eyes narrowed and an angel smirked at him, hungrily.
Nails raked up his abs as the angel laughed, bright white teeth glinting in the moonlight with perfect lips stretched maliciously around them. Those twilight eyes held his gaze, whispering to him. Angels do not exist, they said, scolding him for believing as dark talons ripped his flesh and cracked his ribs.
Hatred heated his frame as the angel lifted a pulsing, beating mass of tissue from him and devoured it, black blood staining the angel's laughing lips and teeth.
With each bite the angel took, his anger seethed, bursting forth in his gut like acid.
And the angel was gone as he bolted upright, panting for breath and heaving his hatred to the side, where it pooled on bruise-dark tile.
The room spun around him as he stood, heat and pain racing through his side, buckling his knees and sending him to the ground with a sharp cry. His ears delighted in the sound, thankful that his pain could be heard, that his air was no longer being consumed by the giant. But his throat ached, torn and weary, and he groaned weakly, clutching at his burning side and spinning head.
Light poured into the room as a door cracked against wall and thundering footsteps swarmed the area, halting by his side. Strong arms lifted him and his throat exploded as he cursed loudly, voice cracked and hissing. His side stretched and heat ripped through his body as he flailed and twisted violently, trying desperately to escape from those warm arms.
"Riku!"
The word cut through his swimming mind and he halted, though he still trembled weakly and panted for breath.
He was safe now; that was not the thunder voice of the giant, nor the malicious sneer of the angel. It was softer, kinder. Coughing and groaning, he thrashed weakly, searching for an escape from the pain still searing a path along his side.
"Riku, hold still…Cloud! Help me, God damn it!"
Cold rushed through his frame and he stopped, the heat in his side frozen and solid now. His breathing was still labored, but soft hands pulled his hair away from his face and it helped to soothe his lungs.
"He was dreaming?"
"He must have been. He's burning up. The fever probably caused it."
"We have to know for sure. This could indicate something more serious."
"He'll be responsive soon, Squall…Leon. We can talk to him about it then."
Riku whimpered softly, curling into himself as he was placed a bed. A warm hand caressed his forehead and heat seeped through his skin, coursing through his body and mingling with the ice, equalizing his frozen frame.
"Shit," he heard one voice whisper gruffly, "He really is sick. We'll have to close down business for a while."
There was a heavy silence, and Riku shifted weight, his limbs no longer feeling heavy and useless.
"Cid's here," the second voice stated, eliciting another gruff curse from the first as Riku pulled himself upright.
"What?" he muttered, leaning heavily back against his pillow, not yet fully confident in his sudden return of strength.
"You're awake," a man with clear blue eyes, hiding behind wisps of wild, blonde hair murmured with a small smile.
"You're sick, and out of commission. For at least a month," the other grumbled, his eyes liquid steel and chestnut locks falling around his shoulders.
"But Cloud just said Cid was here!" Riku cried, his throat protesting dully.
"You just ripped open your wound, Riku, after falling into delirium and vomiting. Something's up with that side of yours. Is it possible that the blade was poisoned?"
"No, Leon, it's not," Cloud growled, "You've already had me scan the blade and his wound for toxins several times."
"Then it's an infection."
"I'm fine," Riku groaned.
"No, you're not. That much is obvious."
"Well, it's not an infection!" Riku snapped, leaning forward and cradling his head in his hands.
"What is it then?" Leon asked, his voice cold and slick.
"…Xehanort," Riku whispered.
The room fell silent, and Leon's eyebrow arched sharply, eyes narrowed inquisitively. Riku nodded slowly and Leon repeated the motion, though considerably more curtly.
"What?" Cloud asked quietly, turning questioning eyes on the brunette.
"Nothing, Cloud. Don't worry about it," he murmured, casting a knowing glance at the silver-haired boy.
"Can you guys just get Cid in here now? Please?" Riku muttered, staring out a nearby window at the brick wall it revealed to the world inside his room.
"No. You still ripped open your wound, whether or not it's infected, and you'll still need at least a month to heal."
"Have Cloud heal me, then!"
"Cloud is good, but not good enough to heal an injury that serious in time for you to take this job. And you shouldn't rely on others so much, Riku. Once you've healed you need to fine-tune your magic skills."
"Can't we at least talk to him, Leon? We need the money, especially if I'll be out of work for a month. Maybe you two can handle it."
"'Fraid not, kiddo," a rough, gravelly voice called around a thick cigar as a tall man entered the room. "You're the only one who can take on this sucker, and you definitely can't pass it up. Not even with a split side."
"How big is it, Cid?" Riku asked, barely able to hide the excitement in his voice.
"Seven hundred."
Cloud scoffed, "That's nothing."
"Would you let me finish? It's seven hundred mil."
"Seven hundred million?" the boy cried, eyes wide and mouth agape.
"Yep."
"Leon, I have to do this."
"Cloud and I will handle it, Riku."
"Oh no you won't," Cid growled, thick lips sucking at his cigar, "Didn't I just say only the kid could take it? Commissioner's request. That, and, he's the only one who can handle the target."
"Who's the target?" Riku asked. Maybe he had ripped open his wound, but he felt fine, and this job sounded too good to pass up.
"It's another assassin."
"Is he good?"
"Damn good."
"How damn good?" the boy pressed, eyes narrowed.
Cid paused, glancing at Leon as if waiting for permission to continue. Then, sighing, he spoke again.
"Organization XIII tried to recruit him."
"What? Recruit? The Organization never recruits new members. The only way to get in is to be raised by them. And even then, you have to wait until an existing member dies."
"Someone croaked then."
Riku shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing, "No one died. Axel would have told me about it."
"Then they were willing to kick someone out?" Cloud suggested.
"No," Riku murmured darkly, "they were willing to kill one of their own. You don't leave that place alive."
"You did," Leon stated, fixing cold eyes on Riku and raising an eyebrow.
The boy paused, closing his eyes and sighing heavily.
"I'm just not dead yet. It's only a matter of time before they send someone after me."
"You've gotta take this, kid," Cid pressed.
"I know."
"He can't, Cid," Leon snapped. "He's got a gaping hole in his side and the only thing keeping it closed is magic. Temporary magic, at that."
"Then get him some permanent magic for Christ's sake!"
"Do you have any idea how expensive that would be? And even then we can't guarantee that it will immediately stand up against his lifestyle."
"You've got a seven hundred million munny job sitting in your laps. With enough munny you can guarantee anything."
"Professional healers demand money upfront, Cid."
"You'll have it for them soon, isn't that good enough?"
"No. Especially not from a troupe of assassins. And, if this job is as tough as you made it seem, who knows how long it will take him?"
"Would you just shut up already, Leon?" Riku muttered wearily. "You know we can't pass this up, not even with me half-dead like this. It's a hell of a lot of money, and whoever's willing, and able, to spend that much on an assassination is obviously important."
"Riku - "
"If we don't get this done it'll mean hell for the lot of us, Leon."
The room fell silent for a long moment, as Riku stared out the window, Leon stared at the floor, and Cid puffed on his cigar.
Finally, tentatively, Cloud spoke.
"If I use multiple healing spells on Riku's wound, then back them up with some protection spells, it'll hold out well enough until we can commission a thief and take him to a professional."
"We don't even have enough munny to commission a thief, Cloud," Leon sighed.
Shrugging, Cid leaned back against the wall and flicked the ashes off of his cigar. The brunette watched angrily as they gathered on the tile.
"We could always ask Aerith," Cid suggested.
"She wouldn't," Cloud whispered, turning his head to the side and joining Riku as they both stared at that brick wall beyond the windowpane.
"Not even for friends?"
The blonde shook his head, clear blue eyes unfocused and expression guarded. "We stop being friends the moment we bring up anything concerning our…business. She's made that clear on several occasions."
"Worth a shot?"
"Not even close."
Pausing, Cid lifted a foot and crushed his cigar against the bottom of his heavy boot, tossing the butt onto a nearby nightstand and earning a disapproving glare from Leon.
"I know a girl," he mumbled, pulling another cigar out of his back pocket, stuffing it in his mouth, and lighting it. "Great kid, excellent thief. She owes me a favor, too. I can get her to pinch a pretty penny for us."
"Get on it, then," Riku ordered.
"Right," Cid said as he turned and trampled out of the room. "I'll report to the commissioner as soon as I've talked to 'er. Tell him you'll be on it as soon as possible?"
"Yes."
Leon's storm-cloud eyes slid towards Riku as Cid disappeared, and an eyebrow arched sharply. "Forgetting something?" he drawled.
Groaning, Riku clasped his head in his hands and slid down, burying himself in the blankets on his bed.
"Cid!" he shouted, hoping the man had not yet left the apartment.
Seconds later, his tan, grizzled face appeared in the doorway.
"Yep?"
"What's his name?"
"Who?"
"The target. What's his name?"