Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts and characters copyright Square Enix and such people. Not me.

A/N:

Here we go again. What can I say? I'm enjoying this. Maybe a bit too much. I have an awesome playlist set up for this project, it's so amazing. I love music.

PS: I reformatted chapter 1 to make it easier to read.

Thanks to:

Vanity_Sinning

Review and get cookies, really. I mean it. I have chocolate chip ones.

The Distance ~ Cake

****

The race wasn't long enough. Truth, they never were. He slowed his horse from his gallop a few yards after crossing the finish line, angling towards the outside edge. The black beast snorted, eyes rolling and saliva foaming around the bit in its mouth. He eased back on the saddle, sitting as comfortably as he could on the hard leather, and ignored the cheers of the crowd as the announcers called out the first three places. He wasn't in any of them.

His thoughts weren't there, anyway. Not that they ever were. As soon as he sat on the horse, his mind went on autopilot, thoughts distant and focused on a person he could be certain was not thinking of him at the same moment. He frowned to himself as he led the horse to the gate and past it. Stopping it outside the track fence, he climbed off and swung the reins over the horses head and led it towards the stables. There should have been stable boys there to help him but there weren't any, but he didn't mind. He preferred not to have his thoughts interrupted after a race, thoughts that bordered on wistful and even happy, thoughts of past times and past memories that were usually kept tucked deep, deep away in his mind.

The horse snorted as he led it to its stall and got started on it. By the time he finished the stable was full and the noise level had risen above his own idea of tolerable levels. He left the horse to wait for its owner and headed out. He was at the payphone before he realized it, helmet hanging from one hand as he stared at it. The number was in his head already, it always was, and this wasn't the first time he'd stood in front of this payphone after a race.

He had another race in two hours, and then one more a half hour after that. Four races tomorrow. Five the day after, and ten total over the weekend. His body was one huge ache and he didn't even feel it anymore, really. He didn't really feel anything anymore.

He stepped closer to the payphone and reached under the casing to where he had stuck two quarters in the crack of the joint a week earlier. He rested the helmet on top of the phone housing and picked up the sleek black receiver. He dropped one quarter into the phone, paused a moment as his hand, quarter still clenched in hand, hovered over the return bar. He dropped the second quarter into the machine, and heard the dial tone ring loud and static-filled in his ear. His finger punched the number in without him thinking of it.

The rings resounded in his head. He found himself hoping that no one would answer. No one would answer. Don't answer. Don't answer, don't be there. Don't be there anymore.

A click, a near quiet hush of a breath.

"Hello?"

His breath caught at the familiar voice, his heart skipped a beat, then two, at the cheerful tone, at the sense of easy-going that oozed from the receiver and into his head. He licked suddenly dry lips, eyes flickering from the phone machine in front of him to the helmet on top.

"…hello?"

The cheeriness was disappearing, the voice sounded unsure. Frightened. He bit his tongue and closed his eyes. He didn't want it to stop now, now that he heard it. Now that he had it, he didn't want it to stop, but he couldn't go on with it. He shouldn't have called. He never should have thought of calling and he never should have come out to the phone at all.

"…Roxas?"

The voice sounded close, not frightened anymore, but… hopeful. He opened his eyes, but it was only him and the payphone in front of him, and the voice over the receiver. He unclenched his jaw and relaxed his death grip on the receiver, and opened his mouth.

"Hey…"