Zexion leaned against the gigantic clock tower which, if one were at the very top, looked over a city that rather resembled London.
The clock struck the hour and the rhythm of it pulsed within his body. He took a quick glance at the sky, finding it a tone of deep royal blue.
"Should be heading off," he mumbled to himself, gathering a book that lay on the ground beside his feet into his arms. He shifted them to one hand and tucked them safely under that arm.
He went on his way, walking in a direction that he supposed would eventually lead to his destination. He walked in a brisk fashion, the wind that only came with motion slapped his face. The chill, numbing fingers were sliding across his cheeks as he past brightly lit buildings and stores.
The place was no exception to the rules and ways of city life. Bright as day in the darkest hour of the night. There was an air of hurry and bustle that mixed with the calmness of the mantle the evening had laid on the city. The contrast seemed to fit in an odd, mismatched sort of way.
Zexion took another quick look at the sky. There was not a single star in the sea of midnight blue. It seemed to Zexion, that, the stars, decided that they might as well not appear at all as the false light did their job sufficiently.
He mulled other this and many other general thoughts. It was only when his nose was centimeters from the brick wall that marked the abrupt ending of an alleyway, did Zexion slip out of the mesmerizing trance of thought.
Ignoring his near brush in with the hard bricks, he turned and began to stride out of the narrow alley. Zexion didn't bother questioning why he'd walked down the alleyway. When he thought, his legs moved on their own accord, bringing him whichever way they willed.
Zexion reached the opening of the alley. A couple of trash cans overflowing with garbage stood sentential on each side of the mouth of the alleyway landmarked the only means of exit or entry from the dead-ended path. He stepped over the threshold, converging with the street.
He recommenced his brisk walk, the wind causing his hair to bob in and out of his eyes.
"Have you ever wanted to fly?" The disembodied phrase tickled his ears.
"Wha-who....?" He whipped his head about, eyes in pursuit of the speaker. Then, he remembered just how large the city was, thus it wasn't likely that he was being talked to. Whoever had spoken was, most likely, not looking for a response from him. "Me?" Zexion questioned. He wanted to be certain no one was actually trying to talk to him.
"Yeah, you," was the response he gained.
"Me? Really?"He asked. One could never be too sure.
"Yes! You!" The voice exclaimed irritatedly.
"Where are you?" Zexion scrutinized the ratty street around him. There was a small doll resting on the stairway to one of the houses, but other than that there wasn't a sign of life to be seen. Of course, though, dolls weren't able to speak, especially not like that. At least, not from what he remembered of being a child.
"Over here," the doll vocalized. An essence of irritation emanated from her. Her small limbs crossed, she sent him a look that clearly stated Will you quit being stupid?
"Why are you talking to me?" He asked.
"Bored. Not a wink of treasure to be found,"she yawned uninterestedly. "I figured I had to talk to someone." She leaned against one of the cement stairs, tossing a miniature lock of golden-blonde hair over her shoulders.
Zexion scanned his head for a curt, polite way to leave. He kicked at the cobbled street and kept his eyes downcast. "I....I...." He trailed off before he had even reached a point.
"So.....Have you?" She queried, gazing up at the endless, starless stretch of sky above.
"Have I what?" Zexion inquired blankly. He searched the black expanse that hugged the city.
"Have you ever wanted to fly?" She asked, as if it was the most blatantly obvious thing it could be.
He rubbed his chin pensively. Perhaps, sometime in his existence, he had stared up at the sky of great and boundless possibilities and wished that he could soar. Zexion had no such desire now. He was a completely different person now, whatever he had once wanted was worthless to him at the present. A moment of thought had drawn him to that conclusion.
"Of course not. It's illogical. No need to want something you can't have." Zexion bluntly shot down that whimsical thought. He was right. That was it. He was always right. He was never, ever supposed to be wrong.
"Planes fly." The girl retorted. "Why not people?"
Then she sat awhile and Zexion observed her carefully. She uncrossed her arms holding them straight out to each side, and stood up. She looked up at him, determination filling her eyes. "I can," she announced. "Why not you?"
"How?" It annoyed him that she believed she could cast the doubt from his mind by simply telling him that she could fly. "Show me."
"Pixie dust. This place is full of it." She answered, as if this were something that everyone should know. She sat back down, folding up again.
"Really?" His voice was saturated with doubt and a faint dash of mocking sarcasm, a direct attack at her confidence. Zexion crossed his arms, his lips forming into a smug smile.
"Yeah," the girl replied as if he had asked his question with kind sincerity. She then muttered, "It's about the only worthwhile thing here. No treasure. At least it's shiny." She sighed, ending with a brighter thought.
"Show me." He looked the petite blonde straight in the eyes. "Teach me to fly."
"O-kay!" She shouted, springing herself up with her hands. "Pick me up, please." She stood up once more, waiting for him to pick her up. He went to snatch her up, but she floated upward some feet and landed with a thud, on Zexion's shoulder. "Can you really doubt that?" He could hear the smile in her voice.
Zexion stayed silent. He looked around the street. Still no one. Not a single curtain was pushed back. Zexion wondered just how commonplace events like this were.
"I'm Rikku, by the way!" She giggled in his ear. This Rikku was a rather unusual character. He had a funny feeling she was going to stick around him for quite awhile.
"Where are we going?" He asked. It seemed Rikku was expecting him to go somewhere.
"The port, please." Rikku pointed in the opposing direction. Zexion set off, Rikku dictating directions from her perch.
He walked blankly, following the motions of Rikku's fingers. Presently, they reached the port. The shore was rocky, so Zexion had to weave his way carefully about the stones, jumping between larger rocks and stepping over the pebbles and medium-sized rocks. Rikku clung tightly to Zexion's shoulder and occasionally shouted things on the lines of "Careful!" and "I almost fell that time!"
"Are you trying to lead me to a rocky demise?" Rikku sunk her fingernails deeper into his shoulders, when he'd risked jumping a wide gap, which was filled with shallow water, and had sharp, gray spires protruding outward from it.
"No, you were just so quiet, I forgot you were there. You've never been this quiet in your entire existence, have you?" Zexion poked at her chatty nature.
"Nuya!" Rikku crossed her legs sourly, keeping her fingernails firmly digging into his shoulder.
Zexion began to trudge across the dock. It creaked loudly with each step he took. He stopped at the edge. The water was a deep, impenetrable blue. The moon shone upon it, making it sparkle, but its beams of silver couldn't shine any further than the surface.
"What now?" His voice projected a small distance, then faded. What was it that made some words fade and others gain immortality? Zexion supposed that as long as the words stayed with someone, they had life. Careful what you say....your words may go so much farther than you expect.
"Now...WE FLY!" Rikku exclaimed, her show of drama at the beginning of the phrase lost in her excitement. He was flung from the dawning of what could have been a rather long train of thought. She pulled the tiniest pouch Zexion had ever seen from her pocket and pulled open the drawstrings. Rikku then proceeded to dump the contents of the pouch, a golden, grainy powder, onto Zexion's face.
"Hey! That could have gotten in my eyes!" He shouted indignant, rubbing at his eyes. It certainly had gone in his eyes.
"You can fly!" Rikku shouted, giggling. "Just try!"
He struggled in thought. Fly. Fly. FLY! He concentrated, trying to, for even a moment, believe that what Rikku had said was for real. This effort came to no avail.
"So much for 'magic'," he sneered. A funny feeling was developing in the pit of his stomach. It had come to a boiling by the time he had placed his finger on its name. Disappointment?
"Try again! And don't forget- be happy!" Rikku laughed, pushing herself off his shoulder and dancing in the air. "Nothing makes you float on air like happiness!"
He thought of Rikku's jovial manner, trying to feel it for himself. He liked to "feel" out emotions he saw in the faces of the people he came in contact with. He'd observe them well and then mimic what he'd seen. Zexion had found himself a rather skilled actor. He pulled expressions off well. Sometimes, he almost believed he could really feel the sensations he imitated. It was funny, but Rikku's feeling came easily to him. It was one of the nearly real ones. It felt like the realest of them all.
A faint floating sensation came into his limbs. He didn't think. It never crossed him mind that should he be incapable of flight, he would crash through the dock, plunging into the dark water. Zexion jumped up, hanging in the air, rather than facing the aforementioned tumble into the chilly, dark depths. Only one thought was in his mind now. Fly! He could fly!
Another thought bubbled to the surface of his consciousness. He had the feeling that, if he got to know Rikku more, she was going to be the kind of person that would always prove him wrong.
He spun in the air, and began to chase Rikku over the water.
Zexion had been wrong, and it didn't feel so bad after all.
My little author's corner: Woohoo! I finally finished typing this up! Hope you liked it! Happy reading!
*I'd like a little something to read, if you know what I mean.* Ya know ya want to review!