I'm throwing out the OOC warning right now, guys, because I had to do some significant tweaking. Some ages have been altered. Mostly personalities. This is my imagining of the characters within if they had been this messed up as children. It's called AU for a reason, my friends.
I own nothing, I swear! Not even my own clothes… So I should probably take those off…
It was raining outside the day they came. Riku couldn't see the rain - the deceivingly ordinary blinds had been nailed shut against the frames – but he heard it clearly. He really did love the rain, something about the way it made him feel more alive. If he closed his eyes, it was like being out in the open, yet surrounded by the protective shelter of droplets.
There had been short, professional knocking shortly followed by his own mother's shrieking. He could imagine her sinking to the ground in front of the door, the way she always did when something really upset her. Of course, he did it too, but only when there was something he wanted.
"Please, you can't!"
Voices and footsteps grew closer, heavy thudding of his mother probably crawling her way up the stairs, clinging to their jackets. She was never calm.
"You can't take my baby away!"
Riku didn't budge. He didn't cry. He didn't try to help his mother. He didn't tell the men to get him out of here as soon as possible. He sat there, listening closely for the moment they would push his door open.
Which eventually they did. Predictably dragging the middle aged woman. The people who pushed open his door were incredibly odd to his eyes. Their hair was impossibly short, even pulling back from the hairline on one of them. They wore no colour, no frills or attachments or accessories. Their jackets were long-sleeved, solidly coloured and not form-flattering in the slightest. Most people would understand that they were suits, but Riku just couldn't call to memory any name for them. Perhaps they looked a bit like what mother wore when she had to do something 'very important' (he never heard what it was that she did) but even hers were pulled in at the waist and ended in a skirt, not the loose-fitting, endlessly dull slacks.
Though neither party spoke a word about it, but the sight was equally strange for them. The room they entered was entirely pastels of blue, pink and yellow (For Riku, it had been those colours his entire life, the only thing that changed was the shape of the furniture). It was devoid of what one would tend to expect in a fifteen year old boy's room – posters, laptop, gaming consoles, fart-joke movies stacked against the walls, clothes piled on the floor, watered down attempts at hiding porn magazines and marijuana.
Actually, there was hardly anything in it. A single bed was pushed against one wall, the beside it had only a few notebooks and what looked like three or four full stationary sets. Opposite to him was a rather elaborate vanity, the make up and hair products across it distinctly used. Any clothes he might have had were in the hamper by the door or organized neatly into the half-opened closet. The only things that hung on the walls were what appeared to be professional artwork and a needlepoint of a white kitten. The only sign of a form of entertainment was a small bookcase alongside his vanity. Beyond that, the room was bare.
At the vanity sat what was at first glance, a rather pretty girl.
"I raised her! She's mine!" The mother was still tugging at their clothing, pleading and crying.
"Ma'am, I'll ask you to please calm down. You know very well that Riku is your son." She sobbed again. They were used to this sort of behaviour, it didn't phase them.
Looks were misleading when it came to Riku. To a casual observer, the carefully perfected locks falling to his waist could have been spun from real silver. His figure was lean, as would be expected of a young boy, but the way he held himself was much too… different. Not to mention the clothes he wore – white capri pants, which hugged his legs in odd ways, and the flowing, low cut shirt, complete with ribbon tying just under what would have been breasts.
"Don't take my Riku, I'll die!"
The tone of the worker had grown sharp. This woman just had to be psychotic in some way. "May I remind you that you have a court case you should be preparing for? It is the state's decision, not your own, to have Riku taken into care until such time that you are fit to take him back." If that ever happened, but he was tactful enough to know that wasn't necessary.
Riku wasn't surprised. He knew why they were there. There had been another strange man the week before who came around looking at the house and asking Riku questions. And more than that, he wasn't blind to the bars of his own cage. He knew there was a lot more than this, he just didn't know what.
"Good morning." His greeting was soft, folding his hands into his lap.
"Honey, please tell them you want to stay! I haven't ever hurt you…" That would be pointless, he wasn't eighteen and thus hardly had a say in this. He didn't resist.
"We're from the Child Services office. We'll take you to a new, safer home." It usually took some coaxing, particularly with the ones who were not afraid of the abusers.
Riku barely blinked. "May I bring some of my own things?"
"You're allowed one suitcase. Try to bring only what you need."
His motions were fluid, standing from the chair and pushing his closet door open. He knew he had no suitcase – he'd never been anywhere – but he did have a couple bags. He hoped that would be okay. Silence. No one said much of anything as he began folding clothing and dropping item by item into one of the bags. His mother whimpered and broke down again, beginning to realise that Riku wasn't going to resist them as she did.
The sobbing woman ran for him, clinging tightly to his shirt. "Riku, Riku sweetie, you're not going to take them over your own mother, are you?"
"… I'm sorry, Mom." He glanced carelessly to where she held his clothing. "You're going to snag the fabric."
She appeared stunned by his heartlessness. Not her Riku. This couldn't have been her Riku. Her Riku was always so careful with words, never once trying to offend her. Riku would have at least shed a tear at the sight of his mother in a panic. Riku… she knew he would have protested, maybe shouted at the men if he knew what they were doing. But… none of that was true for this person.
It was only because of that she was able to let go. She didn't want this disrespectful imposter. "You're… you're not my baby… You're not my Riku." She turned abruptly and left the room, still wiping her eyes.
And Riku… still didn't say anything.
"Ignore that, it's a common reaction from parents at this time. She doesn't actually mean that." That at least was true. His mother commonly didn't mean anything she said when she was angry, blurting out whatever she thought would hurt him deepest and then apologizing later. With more tears.
He nodded, packing the last of his favourite clothes into the bag, along with some of his hair products, the most basic of his make up and an old diary he kept locked in his desk. He doubted he would need anything more from this room.
"Do you have more…" The agent searched for the right word to use. "Travel appropriate clothing?" He worried about the kind of ridicule that the poor boy would get if certain people were to see him. Did people in the neighbourhood see him wearing this?
"I'm not sure what you mean, sir." What he had on was comfortable enough. Perhaps people had to wear a certain kind of clothing when they traveled? He sincerely hoped that it wasn't what all of the men in his room wore.
They understood. Like many of the children they saw, Riku may have just not known better. It was the one of the more truly heartbreaking parts of their job. "Never mind that, are you ready?"
He surveyed his room, along with the single bag. "Yes, I think that's everything." They let him walk ahead down to the front door (he could still hear his mother's tantrum). Riku did not walk like an ordinary boy. His posture was held straight, the arm that didn't carry his bag was swaying freely by his side. He didn't shuffle along, each step was clearly pronounced and followed by a small motion of his hips. He was even careful about the way he got into the car, neatly tucking his legs in and staying mindful of his hair, pulling it safely over one shoulder. He didn't like them taking his bag but allowed it when they told him it was just going in the back.
For anyone in that situation it would have been an overwhelming day. He'd been taken from his home – the only place in the world he actually knew – by such unusual people, with no proper warning. He had no idea of where he was going or how he was going to live. The last thing he had seen of his mother for who knew how long was her crying and telling him that he wasn't her son. Riku couldn't help but feel…
Well… nothing.
The day had gone by before he knew it and he hardly remembered a thing. He remembered the leather smell in the car, the face of the building they had finally pulled up to, and waiting a long time in a chair for them to finish with something. At some point they had given him food, which he politely declined and soon after they brought him up a flight of stairs and into another room, kindly telling him that they would allow him to get settled in.
Since then he'd been leaning against the wall for he-didn't-know-how-long. He thought to himself about the day, and almost cried once, but the feeling passed. He didn't have it in him to cry right now, even though he used to be so emotional.
He'd tried to muster some emotion, but still felt nothing. He was beginning to wonder if something was wrong with him. That would be unfortunate…
He was able to comprehend that he would be living here now. Some of his books had spoken about orphanages, but this did not seem like one. For one, it was not a dark, musty old building. No one was running around in greying nightshirts playing jokes on the cruel woman watching over them or being forced to sweep the floors well past the point of being fair (he'd never understood why so many people who hated children ran orphanages). He was in a room on his own, not a long military-style bunker containing far too many beds. This place looked like his house in many ways, only about twice as large.
A short knock at the door and Riku pulled away sharply, hurrying to sit on his bed. He couldn't be caught in such an unsightly position. It seemed every person he saw today was going to confuse him more than the last. This person was tall and cold-looking, blonde spikes sticking up in ways that defied logic – surely he must have had far too much product in it. He couldn't imagine why anyone would want to destroy their hair like that, but at least he had the decency to wear clothing that did his figure justice.
Riku crossed one leg neatly over the other and tucked some hair behind his ear in a modest gesture. He still wasn't used to people, but this man didn't give him looks the same way the workers before had, like he was strange. "Will you… have a seat?"
"No thanks." His tone was short, he wasn't accustomed to that manner of speaking. His tone left little room for explanation or interpretation. What he said was what he meant. "My name's Cloud. I'm one of the owners of the house and regular staff. I'm usually the one to check on newcomers. Do you have any questions?"
Riku had endless questions. He shook his head.
Cloud didn't question it. He never did. "Basically I'm going to explain some things about the house. If you don't get it all, just ask or you'll get reminders."
"Certainly." He didn't need to say anything, it was only a formality.
"Alright. First thing, this room is temporary. We've learned that you were very rarely around people beyond your mother, so we aren't going to move you in with the other kids until you're ready. After you get used to things, we'll introduce you to some children at a time so you can get used to them. Then you'll be moved in with a roommate."
Riku didn't like that he was being treated like a patient. It only furthered his believe that something was wrong with him. He was beginning to worry… "I'll have roommate?"
"Yeah, another kid about your age most likely. We've got ten kids here now and not a lot of extra rooms, so everyone doubles up. This is the spare room, and the only kid's bedroom on the second floor. In the basement we've got the laundry room and rec room, so that's got television, movies, some games, pretty much all of your entertainment. First floor is the bedrooms, kitchen and dining room. We've got a private kitchen and living room as well for when you want to be alone."
This was getting difficult to process, but he tried to keep track. He doubted he would leave this room too soon, though.
"Second floor is the master bedroom where my partner and I sleep, a library and study, and the 'quiet room'."
"What is a… quiet room?"
"What it sounds like. A number of kids in foster care went through traumatic things growing up, and they can be subject to 'attacks'. When they need to be separated from the others, they go up to the quiet room to calm down."
"Oh…" Riku wasn't sure he wanted to live with people like that.
Cloud only nodded. "Also upstairs is the Psychological Recovery office. The children who went through those traumatic things or anyone who is having problems coping can speak to the psychiatrist who comes in every weekday."
"Am I going to have to go there?"
"Yes, but I'll explain that in a minute." Inwardly, Cloud sighed. He never spoke this much apart from introducing the new ones. He didn't like to speak more than was necessary.
"Rules are basically the same as any house, but we do run on a schedule. We have three meals a day at eight, one and six. There's also some drinks and snacks that you're allowed to take if you need, but we'd prefer it if you didn't eat between meals" Easy enough, Riku wouldn't do that anyway. "Laundry days are twice a week and if you miss them you'll just have to wait. We have separate curfew for the younger and older kids, all you need to know about the young ones is that their weekday lights out is eight and we ask that the older ones are quiet after that."
Riku nodded, he didn't exactly see why he would need to be loud here.
"For you, weekday curfew is nine, lights out is ten. On weekends curfew is eleven and lights out is midnight. I don't care if you sleep or not once lights are out, as long as the others aren't being disturbed. On special occasions we do let everyone stay up later."
He always got his weekdays and weekends mixed up because for him nothing special happened on a weekend. He knew this was the case for most children, though. "Will I be going to school? Mother taught me at home."
Cloud knew that from the investigation and shook his head. "In foster care kids are moved around regularly, so we don't bother enrolling them in formal schooling. We have tutors come in as the kids need them." He was pretty sure that was all for rules. "Anyway, if you ever need anything just shout for someone. We can hear from every room in the house. Or you can find a staff member and ask them directly. Any questions?"
Riku almost stuttered, almost used 'um' or 'er', but he didn't. They were not real words and thus shouldn't be used in conversation, he'd been taught. "May I ask where the washrooms are?" He blushed a little, he wasn't supposed to talk about such things, particularly to a stranger.
Cloud on the other hand, did not seem to care. "There are two on the second floor and another between this bedroom and mine. There are empty drawers, but if you don't want other people using your things I wouldn't keep them in there." He stood up, retrieving a small pad of paper from his back pocket and a pen.
Oh… he didn't realise the people here were the sort to use things without asking. It seemed rather rude to him. "Is that all, then?"
The blond man nodded, jotting down something and tearing the page off. "Your first appointment with the psych is tomorrow afternoon. The office is just across the hall and he'll be expecting you so just knock. After that they'll be every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. We'll add more or lose some depending on what you need."
Riku was surprised. Mildly, though, he still felt very little. At any rate, these people seemed to be doing a lot just for him. He would have turned the help down if they didn't have authority. He knew his place and thus did not say anything. "What sort of thing are these appointments?"
"It's not my department, but I think they're mostly check ups. Just asking you how you're adjusting unless there's something you need to talk about." Cloud was heading for the door. He would really like to give his vocal cords a rest and get to bed.
"Oh." He noticed immediately that Cloud seemed to want to leave (he was unusually perceptive sometimes. "Goodnight, then."
"Night." Riku only realised as he closed the door that he should have asked what he was meant to call him, but it would be simply barbaric to shout after him. He also should have thanked him. His mother would have scolded him for his manners.
He glanced towards the clock. It was much later than he thought and if he didn't sleep soon it would imbalance his system and show under his eyes. He couldn't have that. He lifted himself gracefully from the bed to find his bag. He'd packed a small, almost silky nightgown. He wasn't too fond of the design, but the texture of the fabric felt good against his skin. Riku didn't own many skirts besides this, his mother had decided he looked better in dress pants and skinny jeans.
He tied back his hair to protect it and – every move still delicate – climbed under the covers. With all the thoughts in his head, he knew immediately that he wouldn't sleep well tonight.
He wondered why they picked him, how they knew about him and his mother. As far as he knew only a few select friends and family members even knew he existed, and he'd never met anyone who lived beyond the tall fence. He knew his mother hadn't always taken the best care of him, but he didn't see why everyone gave pitying or distasteful looks. Had he done something?
Riku couldn't tell if he would like it here. The home had everything he needed, and it sounded very nice, but he worried about the other children. Would they hate him, or think something was wrong with him? What if one of them had an 'attack' because of him? What sort of things had they been through that he didn't know about?
Finally, he had to wonder still why he felt so little. His entire life he'd been quick to cry, get annoyed, feel passionate or excited. Yet in the past few weeks it was as though his spark had gone out. He didn't feel like doing anything he used to enjoy. He spoke to his mother less and less and anything he could have thought of to do or say… he just didn't want to… he just didn't care.
He almost cried again that night… but not quite.
It was the first time Riku had stirred all on his own, no alarm or parent to tell him what time to get up. To his horror, it was already past noon. He never slept so late at ho-… oh, he supposed this was home now.
He sat up, carefully brushing his fingers over his eyelids (he never rubbed his eyes, it was terrible for them). He was a bit surprised to notice that there had been unfamiliar clothing laid out for him. By the look of the opened closet it seemed that they intended to give him an entirely new wardrobe. He didn't need that.
Apparently he was supposed to wear one of the two outfits that had been set out for him. But they were so very different. One was very plain, jeans that looked as though they would be too loose in every respect, and a striped t-shirt. It looked very much like some he had once owned, but it was much larger than those and did not taper in.
The other set contained jeans, but these would rise lower, fit tighter, and create much more of a body-shaped curve to his legs. Along with it was a belt shaped like a chain of flowers and a seafoam colour tank top that would clearly fit him snugly. Yes, he liked that one much better.
'I should go downstairs for lunch. I can use the private dining room, I think. It would be rude not to…' And he'd learned years ago that it was not proper to starve himself, whatever the situation.
He was lucky not to encounter anyone on his way downstairs, though he did hear other kids for the first time. Or perhaps he just hadn't been paying enough close attention yesterday. The doors were clearly marked and it didn't take him long to locate the dining room. He felt awkward as he sank daintily into one of three chairs, waiting until someone would bring him his meal. He was used to preparing it himself, and he didn't mind – he liked to in fact. Perhaps he would ask later if he could help earn his keep by assisting in the kitchen.
It was relaxing to have Cloud be the one to bring him food. He'd already encountered more people in the past two days than the past six months before that and he was having quite enough of it. The food itself was mediocre - made by a child, he guessed – but he did not complain and within half an hour Cloud came back in to escort him to his upstairs appointment.
Riku didn't think he wanted to do this. He'd never had to speak to a psychiatrist before and he hardly knew what they were. He was nervous. Sort of. He would rather just not speak at all and carry on his existence here without bothering anyone, but Cloud had already knocked for him and ushered him inside the door.
As little as he knew about psychiatrists, he was almost certain that this wasn't normal. There was an ordinary looking sofa, a desk across from it, but the person who sat at the desk was so small and frail… she couldn't have been older than him.
The blonde woman (girl?) stood up to shake his hand. "Good afternoon, Riku. You can call me Naminé."
"Good afternoon." The greeting was automatic, as was the somewhat-guided motion to sit down on the couch. He wanted badly to ask her age, but he knew that sort of question was as appropriate as asking for her weight or measurements.
Naminé sat back at her desk and thanked Cloud so that he could go. She took out a large notepad (honestly, the thing was half her size. It looked more like a sketchbook. "It's nice to meet you. I've heard about your situation."
He wanted to ask what exactly the situation was, but he didn't want to look so helpless. "It's… nice to meet you as well."
She smiled warmly… it was eerily calming. "You don't need to be so formal. This is a safe environment, and I'd like to know about the real you."
What did that mean? He didn't know what he could do but agree. "I'll try. I'm not really sure how to do this…"
That was a normal for the first time kids, she only expected as much from someone she heard had been so sheltered. Riku's appearance alone told her enough about the initial problem, but her job was to find out how he felt about it and the specific experiences that caused it. "Why don't you start by telling me how you feel today."
Riku felt as though what remaining feeling he had was sucked away. Was she doing something to him? "Bored, same as yesterday."
She jotted something down. "Are you getting used to the new home?
"I suppose. I only just moved in, I haven't had time to adjust yet."
"And you haven't met any of the other children yet?"
"Not yet." He crossed his legs. Naminé wrote something again.
"I guess you will meet them soon enough. Now the point of these sessions is to find out about your past. Today we just want to know a little bit about you, though." She tilted her head a bit. He felt like her eyes were looking deeply into him. "Do you have any questions before we begin?"
"I don't think so. I'd rather you asked the questions."
"If that's what you want. So from our information we know that your mother tried to raise you to be… somewhat of a daughter to her, rather than a son. What we don't know is how and why. Do you want to talk about your mother?"
Riku's eyes lowered. "No, not today."
Naminé respected his wish and did not ask him again about what his mother had done. She was more interested in the way he felt. "So tell me, Riku. Do you feel like more of a boy or more of a girl?
That offended him. He didn't know why, but it did. "I feel like myself."
"And what does that feel like?"
That caught him off guard but he did not retaliate. Her voice was always gentle and soothing. It was like she was putting him to sleep. "It's like… nothing. I don't feel anything. I used to feel a lot."
"If you could think of one thing you do feel, what would it be?"
He had to think on that for a while. "Confused. I don't understand the people around me, or why I seem strange, or why I suddenly have just no emotion."
"I believe it's normal to be confused now that you're growing up, but we won't get into that."
"Why not?"
"It's quite complex, and I want you to do the talking right now."
Riku frowned, but he wouldn't growl or complain. "Well… that's how I feel."
"You said you don't find pleasure in most things you did before. So what sort of things do you enjoy doing?" Again with the scribbling on her notepad…
His answers were getting shorted. "I don't remember."
"You don't remember?"
"I don't think I like to do anything."
She frowned a little, pitying. "I see. What sort of things did you like to do as a child?
"I suppose… I liked to sing and play the piano… dress in different kinds of clothes… I was given a lot of dolls by my mother. Sometimes I liked to run and climb things."
"Did your mother often let you run or climb?"
"I was allowed to run, but she didn't like it when I climbed anything, so I didn't do it when she was around."
She nodded. This was interesting. "If you can remember, would you say you played games that were more literal or did you use your imagination more often?"
Riku didn't understand that question, but he tried to think about it. "I remember playing dolls with my mother and we would give them names and make them talk."
"And did you enjoy it?"
"Yes, but sometimes I wouldn't be able to think of something to day anymore."
"And what would you do then?"
"I told her I didn't want to play anymore."
Naminé jotted this down. She would have to approach the next statement carefully. "I don't know if you're aware Riku, but most of the activities you described are traditionally done more by young girls?"
"Are they…?" He didn't think he was that different from other boys…
"I'm not saying you were wrong for having enjoyed them. Were you not often allowed to play sports or physical games?"
"I don't know what kind of games you mean. Mom didn't like me playing outside because I would mess up my clothes or make the house dirty. I had a skipping rope that I really loved back then."
She nodded a bit, "I'm sorry I have to ask you these hard questions, but your answers are quite helpful. Can you tell me what a woman is to you?"
Riku blinked and briefly considered his answer. "Women… have female body parts… and can give birth to children."
"And men?"
"Men have male body parts. They usually grow taller than women, they can have noticeable facial hair… and they don't have children."
She was a bit surprised. "Is that all?"
He tensed up, burying his face and trying to think harder. "I know there's supposed to be more, but that's all I really think. Any more and I just mix them up."
She flipped the page, passing her notebook and pen over to Riku "Can you draw me what you think a man is and what a woman is?"
Riku didn't like all of the odd things he was being asked to do, but obediently took them both. He held the paper away from her eyes while he drew the figures, taking a few minutes before handing it back.
The two drawings on the page could have come from an anatomy textbook in terms of their body shape. The only thing that seemed out of place was that the man and woman had identical hair and clothing, both very feminine. She studied it for a moment. Riku was feeling more and more unnerved.
"Have the men you've met so far looked strange to you?"
Could she read his mind? "A little, mostly they look like they're boring."
"I see." The page flipped back and she began to write again. "How do you feel about those men? Or rather… how do you feel about men as a whole?"
That offended him again."I am a man."
"So you do feel that you are male."
"Yes." Did she not expect him to?
"Was there any point in your life that you didn't feel this way?"
"Do you mean I thought I was a girl? No, I guess not."
"But did you feel specifically like you were a boy? When you were a child, say?"
He was getting annoyed with her questions. They hardly made sense and he felt like she was expecting him to say something… he just didn't know what. "I don't know what you mean by felt like a girl or a boy! I have a penis, so I've always known that I'm not a girl."
Her expression was level, perfectly calm. "What I mean is, growing up, did you feel separate from your mother based on your gender?"
"I said I didn't want to talk about her."
"We're not talking about her, we're talking about you."
He sighed. Quietly - the noise was not pleasant to the ears. "... Not because of my gender, mostly because she was older than me. I didn't feel like I was different from her… I guess until I was about twelve."
"Really? Why then?"
"I don't really know. Looking back I must have noticed that I was growing up differently from her."
"And how did that make you feel?"
"Strange, I suppose… I looked more like the Ken dolls I played with than the Barbie dolls. Then mom taught me about the differences between boys and girls."
"What did she teach you?"
"I don't remember well… she explained reproduction and what boys and girls look like when they grow up. Should there have been more?"
"Well, that is the basics of a sexual education course." She glanced at the clock. Only a few minutes remained. "Now, we discussed a little about how you didn't see many people and you probably aren't used to them. Do you want to meet other people?"
He paused for a while. He didn't really feel anything one way or the other. "I don't care. If you bring them to me I won't get mad."
"Would you speak to them?"
"I don't know, probably not."
"Why?"
"… I don't know."
She frowned a little and wrote this as well. She would have to wrap this up soon…
"Final question. Today you were given clothes that are usually worn by females and clothes that are usually worn by males. Why did you choose the ones you did?"
He honestly had no idea why. The other clothes were… for boys? Or was it girls? He thought they were just loose and boring. "No reason, really. I just liked these better."
"Would you find it strange to wear the 'boys' clothing? Would it bother you?"
So he was wearing girls clothing even though he was a boy? Was that weird? "I don't think so. I just said, I like this kind of thing better."
"You did. I'd like you to do something then, Riku. Our next appointment is the day after tomorrow. I'd like you to wear the boys clothing all day before you come in to see me. Can you do that?"
"Sure, does that mean we're done?"
"Yes, we're finished. It was nice talking to you."
He stood up fairly quickly. He wanted to get out of here. His head ached, he felt even more confused than before. Was he really not supposed to wear this then? There must have been something wrong with him because he felt fine wearing these clothes. Sometimes they pinched in places but he thought that was normal. His mother had told him he was beautiful and always encouraged him. He felt…
Betrayed.
He waited until he left the room to whimper quietly, clutching his chest. He wouldn't cry around strangers… Was that not normal either? He quickly crossed the hall to 'his' room, shutting the door tightly. He changed his mind, he did want to see other people. He wanted to know how different he really was and why.
He didn't notice two identical pairs of blue eyes watching his movements from behind the railings of the stairs. They ducked out of sight as soon as he passed.
Roxas glanced toward his brunette twin. "Who was she?"
"I don't know… someone new, I guess."
"Well obviously. Is that the one Cloud told us we couldn't meet yet because they were all messed up about people?"
Sora pouted. "Roxas. Don't call people messed up. You should know better, especially with-"
His tone was sharp. "You don't know anything about it, okay? Wasn't that person supposed to be a guy though?"
"Maybe he is. It wouldn't be that weird."
"Speak for yourself. Agh, I hear someone." They weren't supposed to be spying.
The two dropped down from the edge of the stairs and raced each other back down to the rec room.
Ooh! What a shock! Sora has made an appearance… in a… RikuSora story…
…So maybe that wasn't very good foreshadowing.
Um... I got a few comments on Nothing's Call that people like my writing style. It's a bit different in this one, please don't shoot me! It's just because this is a lot more srs business. Also Riku doesn't have the emotions to write about. (He's a nobody, get him!)
This is rated T right now just to generate some interest in it, but it will change. There might be some heavy stuff you guys.
Let me know what you think! My self-esteem is totally depending on it! No pressure, though : D
