A/N: Hey guys! Starting a new fic for Akuroku Day! (Don't worry, I'll start on FoaH after I finished this).
So, uhm... Nothing much to say, other than that I just found out I've been writing bartender wrong my whole life and I never knew. D:
And I'm working on Axel's chakrams for cosplay C= They're killing me. x.x

This story will (hopefully) be updated daily, until the 13th. Hopefully because I'm only halfway day 3. D:
So one day a day. Chapters will be shorter or longer than this one depending on what'll happen that day.

(Actually, this is a day late, I wanted to upload it on the 1st, but I only saved it *facepqalm*)

~ Day 1 ~

"You should be happy." She'd said. Because he'd get windsurfing lessons. Finally. After 10 years of asking, pleading, begging, he'd finally go surfing.

Why now? Because the house would be repaired. By only one repair man. Except that he wasn't a repair man at all. And he certainly didn't come to repair the house.

So he should be happy. Right.

His mother dropped him off as quickly as possible to make the last necessary call to Margret from three streets down to explain that she was terribly sorry that she couldn't host their weekly afternoon tea meeting because the workers were coming and she couldn't leave the house either with all those computers and the TV's, now could she?

He spat on the sand and looked around unhappily, waiting for a certain 'Axel', the lucky son of one of his mom's colleagues, who'd wanted to give him lessons for a little money. He didn't even want to know how much that 'little' was.

"You're Roxas? Che, you're smaller than I thought you'd be."

He turned to the sound, eyebrows raised at the comment.

"And you are?"

The man in front him smiled a happy smile, clearly unfazed by the disgruntled face.

"Name's Axel. A-X-E-L. Got it memorized?"

Roxas blinked, bad mood momentarily making way for shock. Long, dark red hair pulled back into a ponytail, one of his ears pierced – Roxas could count 4 barbells and rings – while the other one was, strangely enough, still completely untouched. His toned arms and legs were sun kissed, proof – if the strange color wasn't enough already – that he was in no way a natural redhead.

But the most distinct traits were his eyes. Too green and accentuated with what he thought to be eyeliner and – no way – were those tattoos on his face?

To summarize: this was not what he'd been expecting. Axel just raised a (pierced) eyebrow at the baffled look he was presented with and tried to ignore the obvious staring.

"Hey Blondie, you came here to surf or would you rather take root?"

Roxas glared at Axel's back, who was already walking to what he guessed was some kind of club house. Couldn't that guy see he was in a terrible mood already? Surely he didn't want to make it worse? Roxas wanted to let his thought wander to his reputation to be tremulously feared when angered – and better not be angered at all – but he couldn't, because frankly, he didn't have such a thing. If he had any reputation at all, it was that of Faith's kind and loyal son who played tennis and studied dead languages –thank you so much mom. He felt the urge to spit again.

That morning was spent teaching the basics on a simulator and practicing balancing without the sail. Though he knew it was a necessity, it did nothing to improve Roxas's mood, and at noon he grumpily ordered a Croque Monsieur in the club house – he did his best not to glare at the bartender though, out of fear of what might happen if he offended the man with the scars and the eyepatch.

Afterwards, Axel took him to a table where he was introduced to a lot of names Roxas promptly forgot. Lunch then was spent in silence for him and in a lot of happy chatter for the others.

The day had thus far been rather gray for him, and it looked like the sun wasn't going to fend off the clouds anytime soon, when a "Axel, I know it was you!" boomed through the canteen and a dreadlocked man – Zalder, or what was his name again – was walking angrily up to them. If Roxas were in Axel's shoes, he'd sneak under the table, but the older man just used his best puppy eyes and asked in an over-dramatic voice: "Ah, Xaldin, your words sting like little wasps. How could you suspect me, your dearest Axel, from a crime I don't even know of? Why do you speak my name with such hatred? Where does all this hate from you for me come from? Pray tell, my dear friend!" Axel's friends laughed, half with what Axel had said, half with Roxas's face. But then it was time for Xaldin to answer.

"Because you're the only one with a bad enough taste who would replace all the Magnums with sea-salt ice cream." He deadpanned.

Roxas's ears perked and he looked a bit like a happy little dog – he blamed Pavlov for that one – when he heard of the presence of his favorite treat.

"Ah, busted."Axel sighed, not at all surprised.

After a few good laughs it was decided that Axel would buy new Magnums and that Roxas would go with him to help carry the ice. Not that he was really needed, but Roxas didn't want to be left alone with a bunch of guys he didn't know the name of and a man with an eyepatch.

With the help of a stick of sea-salt ice cream and his first actual surfing lessons, Roxas's mood finally took a turn for the better. At 4 o'clock he was sad to say goodbye with a handshake, a ruffle to the hair and a 'you're not so bad after all, Blondie'.

His mother smelled suspiciously like a fresh shower and when he got home, he couldn't find one repair to the house. His mood turned pitch black again.

So what did you guys think?

(PS: Todayis my birthday, reviews are like presents =D)