A/N: This. This is an unholy product of my imagining what, if anything, could possibly make Twilight bearable. The answer came to me in a moment of questionable clarity - Kingdom Hearts, crossovers, and making the main lover boy interest actually gay. (Not that Eddy needs it, mind.) So this came about. Yes, there will be slight differences...uh. Unavoidable, I think.
DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, and also rather luckily, I do not own either of the titles the characters and story were taken from. The unfortunately refers to KH (which would have been a lot different had I owned it, and Axel would not have died). The luckily refers to Twilight, naturally. AH, SO. Enjoy. Allons-y!
Sora whined into the car window – not that anyone was paying attention to him, anyway.
"But whyyyy," he drawled out, his breath fogging the window and making the tropical scenery beyond hard to keep up with. Roxas, at Sora's usual spot in the passenger seat, made a huph of noise in response. Their mother said nothing. Instead, she turned the radio up louder. Effectively drowned out by the Best of Queen, Sora huffed derisively. Today sucks. Alright – so he knew it was coming, he'd know the entire summer that this day was going to happen. Unavoidable, this day was. Which only made it suck more. If further sucking could even be imagined. He sighed again – louder – but to no avail. His mother, sadly, did not have a sudden change of heart. She did not pull the truck over and proclaim in loud, dramatic words, "No! I cannot bear to have my darling oldest son shipped off to a middle of nowhere spit of land! My heart can't take it!"
Not that Sora had really been expecting her to. Sora's mother was a firm woman, a woman who, when her mind was made up, it was made. Up. No fighting it – and Jenova help the poor sod who tried. He suspected that this was the reason she and his father – an equally stubborn man – had split up. (Actually, it was for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with either's temperament, but neither Sora nor his younger brother knew about that. Not yet, anyway.) So when Sora's mother had declared that she was sending him to live with his father, yes, Sora had tried to fight it. In fact, he'd used every tactic in his teenage arsenal. Mainly; whining (which he was particularly good at), pleading, begging, sobbing dramatically, food striking (it hadn't lasted long. Sora was a growing boy, after all, and got very, very hungry after the first hour), and eventually, when none of it had worked, sulking. Even that had brooked no sympathy for the woman. After all, she was a mother. And mothers were well adept at dealing with angsty adolescent drama. Sora had been no match.
But why, one may ask, did the woman deem it necessary to banish poor, blameless Sora to the industrial wasteland that was Twilight Town? He was just getting to that. (Also, it should be noted that, to Sora, anywhere that had anything more advanced than dirt roads and wooden rafts for transportation was 'industrial' and therefore a 'wasteland.')
Ah. The chicken incident. Don't hold your breath waiting to find out what happened – Sora was never going to relive that. Not in his mind, and certainly not in this narrative, either. Suffice to say it had involved a sit-down dinner with his mother's new boyfriend and it had not gone well. At all. So she sprung one on him after school had let out for the summer – He'd have the duration of the vacation to set his affairs in order, then he was going to be shipped straight to his father in gloomy, dreary, boring Twilight Town. None of the aforementioned angst-tactics phased her decision. Sora's mother knew he loved the Destiny Islands – knew he loved the beaches, the water, the weather – not to mention his friends and school and everything else that had made up his teenage life. She knew, and she was using it against him. Conniving woman. In some small part of his mind, there was a secret fear that he deserved it. But he squashed it with thoughts of just how much he hated his mother's boyfriend. No, he wasn't a sleaze. Unfortunately. If he were, Sora might not have felt a twinge of guilt when the chicken had gone off like that – er. Nevermind. Anyway, he was a nice man. Cheery, good natured, with a steady job and an aura that radiated security. The kind of man any lonely mother raising two moody teenagers would, literally, jump on. And that's exactly what Sora hated about him – he just screamed axe murderer. Hadn't anyone else seen The Stepfather? Sora hadn't even been able to convince Roxas to aid in his plan to get the nutter out of their lives via questionable poultry-related methods. Come to think of it – Oh. Oh-ho-ho. Roxas, you little shit, Sora thought savagely. After the incident-that-shall-not-be-elaborated-upon, Sora's mother had asked the man for a little time apart in which to deal with her troublesome sons. And he agreed – though neither specified how long, exactly, she would need. Which meant Roxas – quiet, mad little genius Roxas – had an unspecified amount of gloriously boy-friend (and now Sora) –free time stretching ahead of him. You little shitter.
Luckily, Sora had been a little slow on the uptake with this revelation, and hadn't had all summer to stew on it. In fact, he only had the remaining car ride to the airport in which to steam and stew to his heart's desire. Had he two months to do so, he sincerely regretted, he would have made Roxas' payback slow and painful. He was forced to settle with giving the back of his younger brother's seat a good kick. Too bad the blonde was too asleep to notice it. Typical. His brother's life is ending and he's asleep.
"Get over it, kid. You brought this on yourself," was his mother's lovely parting words at the terminal gate. Her eyes were hard on him, narrowed, and Sora withered under the gaze. He hung his head glumly. Her expression softened, after a second, caving and giving him a consoling hug. "It won't be that bad," she tried reasoning. But she knew that, for Sora – who had practically grown up in the sun, the sand and the surf – a small town in the middle of no-where north was about as bad as you can get. She patted his back in an almost sympathetic manner. Roxas was next.
"Send me a postcard," was his farewell. Now, Roxas had a finely cultivated poker face, and could say this with as much sympathy and seriousness if he had been saying to someone at a funeral, "I'm sorry for your loss." But Sora, being his older brother, knew that just a hint of mirth colored that send-off. He gave his brother a mean-eyed glance, then offered one final glum goodbye to his family. Gathering his backpack and carry-on laptop case, he set off toward the terminal. Man. This day sucked.
A/N: Did that sound like I've just rushed madly into writing this thing and am making things up as I go along? I hope not. Because that's not the case at all, I swear. Totally not. Yep. Review?
