Decadence
Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts does not belong to me. It belongs to the people who own it: Disney, Square Enix, etc.
It lay broken and useless beneath him. The tattered remains of a once gorgeous satin skirt were twisted around him like a grim lover. The dry white of his fractured leg bone peeked out from the flesh of his calf, smeared with oily red. The bruised and bloody boy tore his eyes away from the horrid wreckage of his own appendage. He slumped backward to feel the dirty brick against which he rested. Tainted hands rose seemingly on their own, tossing the instrument of destruction away. The dirtied blade fell heavily between two heaving bodies, both bloodied and disgraced.
The countenance of the cross-dressing brunet turned to one of agony as a terrible burning pain shot through his leg. He had pulled himself to his feet, his weight resting on his mostly uninjured leg. As he gathered his scattered and soiled belongings he carefully hobbled away from the scene. His black skirt was in shreds and covered practically nothing. Beneath the borrowed garment delicate white lace was visible.
Barefoot, and trailing red tinged splatters, the injured boy left that filthy place pausing only long enough to lessen the pain in his legs. The peeling flesh on his leg screamed in shock and pain, forcing the boy to rest frequently. (He never quite made it to his destination.) The heavens were on his side, it seemed, as the blue-eyed brunet laid himself down gently, his body hidden in plain view. Having reached his home, which had been far closer to the place of his assault than a medical facility, he found he had no strength left in his reserve to climb the small steps. Instead he chose to wait.
A long wait was not in store for him that night, as the heavens caressed him. He clutched onto his tattered clothing with one hand, the other attempting to stem the flow of the slippery red fluid that disgustingly escaped him. Another boy, tall with silver-esque hair, found him not even a half hour later. Said boy, the other's dear friend, rushed him to his car, ushering him to the hospital. Riku got a new car, was the brunet's last and only coherent thought that dark night.
The wreck of a boy awoke many hours later, a prisoner in a pristine white bed. The bed clothes were pulled taut around him. Curled in a chair a few feet away was his savior, his best friend, Riku.
"I can't feel my leg," he murmured to himself. He struggled against the sheets. Finally after a very brief moment, he sat up, the blankets still uncomfortably tight. Blue eyes set upon an IV and followed the small tube to where it burrowed under his own skin. He threw back the covers to see his leg wrapped thickly in plaster. The other equipment registered only distantly in his mind as he started at a set of aqua green eyes.
"You broke your leg. And there were slash marks, the doctor said. It might be numb as well. The doctor gave you something for the pain."
The boy could only nod.
"What happened, Sora? The police, they followed your trail of blood," the silver hair youth said quietly, scooting his chair closer to his friend's bedside. "They said there were bodies, two guys from our school who had been stabbed. Did you do that?"
The boy, Sora, nodded again. He reached for the sterile white sheets that were such a contrast to the previous night.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, clinging to the purity, the deathly pure colored sheets. He gazed at his friend with the white, almost silver, hair. Riku was pure. He had made sure. Sora had helped retain Riku's purity. He frowned, "They hurt you, remember? Why do you care?"
The taller of the two, the one who was whole, nodded slowly.
"What happened, Sora? You were supposed to meet us at Kairi's party," he enveloped Sora in a hug, "What did they do to you?"
Hesitantly, Sora made to return the embrace but instead pushed him harshly away.
"Nothing," he said sadly, "I did it all."
Decadence - 1. The act or process of falling into an inferior condition or state; deterioration; decay 2. Moral degeneration or decay; turpitude. 3. Unrestrained or excessive self-indulgence
A/N: Not what I usually write, I have to admit, but I liked the end results. Sora's last words can be interpreted as the reader sees fit. Only I know the truth, and I like it like that. Also, the definition of Decadence comes from and credit goes to that website.