Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts.
a/n: This is a running joke with my ex-roommate-we just kind of had this beautiful image of Riku running up and saying "OH HEH, SORA!", and it all went downhill from there when I finally decided to write it. Heee~
Sora was wasting time, killing Heartless while Donald and Goofy were getting food, because they got hungry waaay too much, and for the weirdest things, like… like… quiche. There had been a quiche restaurant in the town they were staying in, and they'd tried to drag Sora along, but he'd tried their terrible Disney Delicacies before, and they were all disgusting as all get-out.
So here he was, chopping the heads off of Shadows and setting fire to the occasional Blue Requiem, when along stumbled a person in an eerily familiar black cloak. Recognizing the cloak as a telltale indicator of Organization XIII, he turned to hold his Keyblade in the person's direction, eyes narrowing.
Until, of course, the hood slipped off the person's head.
"OH HEH, SORA," Riku shouted, tripping over his own feet. Sora watched as Riku toppled over gracelessly, lifting his silver-topped head out of the grass with wide eyes.
"Oh, shit, there's fuckin' grass here! Motherfucker, this is fuckin' grass!"
He crawled around for a minute, quite intent on stroking a particularly exuberant tuft of the aforementioned grass, and Sora very quickly became concerned for his best friend's mental health.
"R-Riku?" Rather hesitantly, he let his weapon drop, taking a few steps towards the distracted boy. Something was not right here—Riku wasn't attacking him, as was the trend of late, and he wasn't being cryptic or bitter, and since when had he been so… distractable?
"Oh, wow, I almost forgot you were there, Sora. You're so quiet now! Did that weird duck thing break you or something? You used to talk all the time, and it got really old sometimes, but dude, like… Wait, why are those squiggly Heartless things here?" He proceeded to look highly confused, and Sora took the opportunity to edge towards him and poke his shoulder.
"They show up everywhere, Riku. It's, like… what they do. Are you alr—why do you smell like alcohol?" He looked horrified, and almost dropped his Keyblade as Riku flung an arm out and dropped it quite violently on Sora's shoulder.
"SORA, MY MAN! DUDE. I don't smell like alcohol. Maybe you smell like alcohol."
"Uh, no, Riku, I'm pretty sure I don't smell like alcohol. Unless you touch me too long, and that would make Goofy and Donald ask really awkward questions, and I'd probably get lectured." He's lookin' mighty shifty now, trying to wiggle out from under Riku's arm. Unfortunately, Riku doesn't notice his struggles, and instead leans on him, peering down at him.
"Dude, Sora, you're short. Why're you so short?"
That won Riku a disparaging look, Sora's eyebrow lifted to "Oh my God, really?" heights.
"I've been in an egg for a year. It's hard to grow when you're in an egg."
Riku simply looked nonplussed.
"Chickens do it."
"I'm not a chicken."
"I wasn't insinuating that you were. DUDE. SPEAKING OF CHICKEN—"
"You're drunk. I'm amazed that I'm asking you to do this, but do you think you could go… sleep this off and come back later?" Sora had by now given up struggling against Riku's grip, resigned to being tormented by his oddly obnoxious best friend, rather disconcerted by his lack of enthusiasm for continuing this conversation with someone he's spent the last two-ish years looking for.
Apparently, Riku wasn't listening, or something, because suddenly he was pulling Sora closer, looking weird and hazy.
"I was wondering when I'd see you again," he whispered in Sora's ear, making Sora shudder and squirm some more, trying to get away.
"Ew, Riku, you smell like crap, go away!"
"SORA."
"…what."
Without much thought put into the action, apparently, Riku let Sora go, pacing across the green to slay a few twitchy Heartless with Way to Dawn. He looked enthralled and quite pleased, if a little confused, as the creatures dissolved into darkness, releasing the hearts of the souls they once were. Sora frowned, hand tightening on the Kingdom Key—he really wasn't fond of Way to Dawn.
Abruptly, Riku came marching back over, Keyblade looking rather menacing.
"Have you—ever—talked—to a Shadow?" He said this very gravely, emphasizing with a very emphatically raised index finger. It's quite emphatic and purposeful.
"N-no…"
"That—is—a shame." Way to Dawn disappeared, and Riku began gesticulating in a way that Sora had not seen him do before. "They're, like, legit, the coolest motherfuckers this side of Wonderland. You'd think they'd be all "ooo, I have no heeeaaarrrt", but instead they're all "hiii, I read Nietzscheee" and, like… Lewis Carrol or someshit, and, like, shit, I met this one Shadow, and dude, I swear he was motherfuckin' George Orwell! Like, seriously, I think George Orwell turned into a Heartless and, like, spends all his time lurking in Hollow Bastion, seriously, talking about, like, the oppression of the proletariat and, like, fuck, you know, Victory Gin. And Communist pigs. Whatever the fuck pigs are—have you ever seen a pig? They look like someone painted a Rabid Dog pink, seriously, and, like, what the fuck kind of color is pink for an animal? Seriously, whoever does all that shit needs to reevaluate their logic or something, because there isn't any. HAH! You get it? No logic!" He descended into snorting laughter, and Sora seriously considered hitting him over the head with the Kingdom Key, because he was being weird.
"Riku."
Riku looked up at him, as he was rather preoccupied with holding his stomach, laughing.
"Soh-rah."
"Where did you find enough alcohol to make you lose your mind?"
"DiZ's office."
"R-really? Wait, who's DiZ?"
"He's this creepy motherfucker with a stupid guilt complex."
"Oh. Well, uh, will he be mad when he finds out you stole stuff from him?"
"Probably." Riku looked entirely unconcerned.
"And you're not… you know, worried about that?" Sora looked entirely concerned.
"Nah, man. He can suck my—"
