A/N: Heads up, there is some implied sex in here. I didn't think it was enough to earn a M rating. So don't say I didn't warn you. This fic is based off the Vanessa Carlton song "White Houses". It's taken a little out of context and I didn't use every stanza. This has been seriously forever in the making and I'd like to thank OriginalDemigodSuperspy for digging up old chat records or whatever. And RaidersEcho for making me feel better about my ridiculously long slump. And Numbuh Phenon for giving me the initial idea to restart this for the 3rd time. And the couple people who for whatever reason miss me over here in KNDland. You guys are da bomb. I've realized that if I don't get a fic down in one sitting, I'm never fully happy with it. Blah. So, without further ado, here it is.
Fading Whiteness~
Crashed on the floor when I moved in
This little bungalow with some strange new friends
Stay up too late, and I'm too thin
We promise each other it's 'til the end
It had been six years since he left. Six long, long years. Six long, long years in which so much had happened. Sometimes, she found herself forgetting about him. Sometimes, she could not remember the days when everything was better. When they were stronger, faster. More unified. Flanking the sides of a boy who was leadership personified. She couldn't forget. Shouldn't forget. Because, if she forgot, he might also forget.
They were different, the four he left behind. Undoubtedly so. But they were still them. Sector V. No matter what. At least, that's what the blonde boy often whispered into her ear when she became too sad to hold such insecurities in. He'd hold her in his arms and tell her they were the same and nothing would change that. But they weren't the same. And anyone could see that.
Even the one speaking the words, Numbuh 4, her best friend and, after too much time, her boyfriend, had changed. From a shrimpy, cocky child. To a boy who fought with dignity and pride. A boy who was tall and clean cut and beautiful and hers.
And the other two, who would nod from the sidelines at the blonde's words, they were different as well. She, Numbuh 5, had always been the quiet one. Logical and brave and motherly. And she was still all these things but they seemed more rehearsed. As if she now had no choice but to be that way, when before she simply wanted to. Her fingers were encased in the hand of a man. A man who used to be a tubby little boy, Numbuh 2. But now was refined and mature.
She, Numbuh 3, glanced around at these people. Her best friends. Who she didn't know. Didn't relate to. And had to wonder whatever happened to the illustrious Sector V. That's when she realized she had forgotten him for a moment again.
Oh yeah. He left us.
Now we're spinning empty bottles
It's the five of us
With pretty eyed boys girls die to trust
And then one day, after six long, long years in which so much had happened, he came back. Just like that. Waltzed into the tree house, into their lives, like he had always been there and had never left.
They let him. Because they just couldn't find the strength to be mad, because they needed him so badly it hurt, because he was him. They could be five again. They could be whole again. They could be great again.
And so they were. It was as if they picked up where they had left off six years ago. He was born to lead those four and they were born to follow him. From the blonde's arms, where she knew she belonged, she found herself falling into the leader's trap. Intoxicated by confidently spoken words, sleek sunglasses, an aptitude for nearly everything.
He had left. Once. But they all conveniently let that slip their minds as new memories, better memories, were made. He was back. And they were all positive he would stay.
From the arms of the blonde haired boy, she fell in love with him.
And I'm so excited, I haven't spoken
And she's so pretty, and she's so sure
Maybe I'm more clever than a girl like her
Summer's all in bloom
Summer is ending soon
She used to be energetic. Wild, crazy, fun. The sunshine that kept them all from getting too work obsessed. Now it is as if someone blew out her flame. Jealous of her happiness, they snatched it away.
Even when he returned she remained hesitant. Aware of the devastation he had brought to their team. But still so, so relieved and pleased to see him again. She didn't talk directly to him for a while, watched the others interact with him. She wanted to tell him she missed him, loved him.
Maybe she should've.
During long stretches of forgetfulness in the wake of his disappearance, she apparently had forgotten why she couldn't have him the first time around. Numbuh Three-Hundred-And-Sixty-Two. Everything she wasn't and everything she couldn't be.
Similar to herself, it only took him one look to fall helplessly in love with the regal blonde all over again. Kuki studied her like it was her job. Trying to find a flaw, blemish, imperfection. There were none. She wished there were. But there simply weren't.
She was running out of chances, time, hope.
It's alright and it's nice not to be so alone
But I hold on to your secrets in white houses
It was easy to pretend that everything was perfect. They were together again. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. A full set, a team. The people that only days before she had thought she had nothing in common with, they were themselves again. Sarcastic Numbuh 5, Silly Numbuh 2, Impulsive Numbuh 4. So, she filled the role of Girly, Fun Numbuh 3 and nobody noticed that her heart wasn't in it.
She watched him love Numbuh 362 and let Numbuh 4's strong arms encircle her shoulders. And she didn't tell a single, solitary soul.
Maybe I'm a little bit over my head
I come undone at the things he said
And he's so funny in his bright red shirt
We were all in love and we all got hurt
It wasn't easy to pretend. It was hard, among the hardest things she ever had to do. Because everything about him, every single thing, she loved so overwhelmingly much. His voice, his stance, his glasses, his laugh, his eyes, his mind, that shirt. His aura. Him. Nigel Montgomery Uno.
Kuki often had slip-ups. Moments when she stared too long, laughed too hard, dreamed too deeply. She supposed that he had faults. He had left them once, after all. They all forgave him that, though. Because the hurt of abandonment is uncomfortable and the hurt of unrequited love is marginally better.
She began to crave his praise. Needed to hear his voice, have him near. If she couldn't have him, she needed to have the next best thing.
Boy, we're going way too fast
It's all too sweet to last
One day, he asked if she would come on a mission with him. A two person mission. The kind she used to go on with 4 because the others hoped it would nudge them in the right direction. Kuki wanted to sing or cry due to excitement. But, she caught herself and nodded, "Sure, Numbuh 1!"
Wally kissed her forehead and told her to be safe. Kuki giggled. Of course she would be safe; what was the worst that could happen? She boarded the ship with Nigel and they took off.
There was no mission.
It's alright
And I put myself in his hands
But I hold on to your secrets in white houses
Love, or something ignites in my veins
And I pray it never fades in white houses
His lips were everywhere and she was confused, squirming. "Calm down," he whispered. Kuki froze. "I missed you," he murmured into her neck.
Just as she had missed him. When his lips pressed against hers, she pressed back. When his hands ran a course along her arched back, hers encircled his shoulders. When his hips rocked ever so slightly against hers, she moved with him.
She'd never done this with Wally. And Nigel was not her boyfriend. Nigel was with the perfect Numbuh 362. But as he gently laid her on the floor of the ship, as clothes were slipped off warm bodies, these thoughts were not prevalent in her head.
Her mind was encompassed and filled and brimming with thoughts of Nigel. His hands on her hips, in her hair, feeling her skin. His skin sliding along hers. His body pressing against hers. The feeling of him inside her. He filled her, completed her.
It hurt. But it was a good hurt. The pain of an unrequited love being requited.
He's my first mistake
Kuki floated on the way home, Nigel's arm slung casually over her shoulder. She was certain she had never in her life felt happier. They arrived back at the tree house and Wally greeted her with a hug. Nigel winked. And suddenly she felt sick. Guilty.
Kuki looked at Wally's smile. He was the boy she was supposed to love, care for, be faithful to. The hands and lips and emotions she had felt on that "mission", they were wrong.
Nigel would try to talk to her, she would not reply. Wally would ask her what was wrong, she would mumble, "Nothing". She could not look at him. She could not look at herself.
She was certain she had never in her life done something so completely wrong.
Maybe you were all faster than me
We gave each other up so easily
These silly little wounds will never mend
I feel so far from where I've been
Numbuh 5 was the first to go. Others reminded them that they had much longer together than was normally granted. But it was still painful. Kuki was lonely, left behind as the only girl. With Nigel's winks and Wally's trusting eyes.
She was sad. Secrets eating away at her and friends leaving her. For the rest of Sector V, it was business as usual, even though they would occasionally see their friend out and about. Looking different than before.
Kuki desperately wished she could take back what she had done. Because even though no one knew, she felt like everyone did. Each time Wally looked at her, each time she allowed his lips to brush against hers, each time his fingers grazed the skin of her wrist, she was sure he would notice, figure it out. And hate her.
Once upon a time, when she had lusted after her leader with a foolish heart, Kuki had pretended to be herself. Wild, silly Numbuh 3. But now, her loneliness and shame and guilt were much too big to play pretend with. She missed the happy-go-lucky, smiling girl of her past. And she knew she would never meet that child again.
So I go, and I will not be back here again
I'm gone as the day is fading on white houses
I lied, wrote my injuries all in the dust
In my heart is the five of us
In white houses
The Kids Next Door was an organization based on innocence and children and loyalty and youthfulness. And Kuki had sent that tumbling down after just a few brushes of skin on skin. Like a big red X across a white page. Impure. Dirty. Tarnished.
She was disgusted with herself. And with him. They had done something truly unforgiveable. Something no one should ever have to know of. But, Kuki Sanban was not known for keeping secrets and every time she looked into the forever-trusting faces of her teammates there was a part of her that screamed, "Tell them. Tell them." Until she would turn away, tears filling her slate gray eyes.
There was only one true way out. Only one way to make sure her secret remained a secret. The only way out operatives ever had. Decommissioning. The word was enough to make her shudder. But it was worth it. There was nothing more precious or valuable to her than the organization to which she owed all her happiness. And all her heartbreak.
She liked the idea of leaving without ruining things for Wally and Hoagie. They didn't deserve to know the awful things she had done.
And they say ignorance is bliss. For the time being, she could try and remember when they were clean and pure and perfect. And then she could forget all of it. Every memory, injustice, happiness, moment. All of it thrown to the wind. Leaving just a girl. A blank slate. Someone who would have no idea whether they were good or bad.
And you, maybe you'll remember me
What I gave is yours to keep
In white houses
She told a couple lies. Sad, tired, done. And got scheduled to go early. Her boys stood with her at the door. They were grown, polished, beautiful. Wally had tears trailing down his cheeks and he brushed at them angrily with balled fists. Hoagie made jokes and patted her head. Nigel stood regal and shook her hand, as if their relationship was strictly business. Kuki kissed Wally and hugged Hoagie and let her knuckles trail lightly along Nigel's jaw.
They say you never forget your first love. That remained to be seen. While there were many, many things wrong about that day with Nigel, Kuki had loved him with every inch of her being. She could admit that. Love. What they had done could be forgotten, but she hoped he could at least remembered the happy, fun girl who had loved him so.
Moments later, Kuki Sanban could not recall a single thing about herself and there was an oddly, bald boy in a vibrantly red t-shirt who had a single tear running down his cheek standing near her.