I, Portugal, do not own Kingdom Hearts. I own no characters, places, or inanimate objects registered by trademark to the following companies: Square Enix, Disney, or any other company.
We already know this. 'Cuz if I did, I wouldn't be here, would I?
I do, however, own characters and places and things developed on my own.
The Sun and the Moon.
By Portugal.
His eyes opened instantly, his features belaying no hint of surprise or alarm, or any hint that he had just woken up. Silently, he sat up in his bed, rubbing his head with his palm. Running a hand through his dark brown hair, he looked down at the clock beside his bed. Mentally he swore as he closed his eyes again.
Just like him to wake up thirty minutes before he needed to.
Kicking his sheets of his legs, he slid out of bed, resting on the hard wood floor of his room. He stood up and made his way to the bathroom. Leaving the lights off, he allowed the beams poking through the blinds in the bathroom be his guide, he cast a less-than-critical glance over his appearance. Aside from the bit of scraggly hair coming in on his chin, and the fact that his hair was poking up at an angle almost two inches above his scalp, he looked tolerable.
He ignored the various scars.
Brilliant blue-green eyes peered back at him unblinkingly as he began washing his already clean hands meticulously. They were eyes that bore the weight of many years, rare for some who was only 17.
The deodorant went on, a small faded dark grey sweatshirt was yanked over his bare chest, and he pulled on a worn pair of jeans. Determining himself acceptable, he grabbed the heavy chain on the counter, clasped it around his wrist, and paused to examine his hands again. After a moment, he turned and shuffled out of the bathroom.
He moved down the stairs, careful to not rouse his 'mother.' His thin fingers trailed lightly across the wall idly, his features unreadable, as the most often were.
Scouring his tiny kitchen for some form of food, he found only a soda and a Poptart, which he wolfed down almost immediately. Looking down at the kitchen table, he gathered up his wallet and phone, which he had left there when he got home the night before. The small screen on the front of his cell flashed blue a few times, signifying he had missed something the night before.
Flipping it open, his brow furrowed slightly as he saw that he had missed seven calls, and he now had three voice messages. He scowled slightly as he input his password, grabbed his backpack, and headed out the door.
"You have three unheard messages…" The sun had barely come over the uneven horizon of buildings as he plod his way down the streets, shuffling into his flip-flops as he went. "First unheard message…"
"Hey, Reilly…it's me, Em…I was just wondering where you wandered off to tonight…when we came back you had kinda left, and you're not answering your phone to anyone…so I was just worried, is all. Um…give me a call back whenever you get this, or…uh…just see me tomorrow, 'kay?"
Click.
Reilly's slender face hardened a little as he pressed the seven key. His mind tossed and turned as it tried to come up with a good explanation as to why in the middle of a movie he just left and disappeared. Certainly not the truth, that would only make them think he was insane. But she had sounded worried, and trying to brush it off just wouldn't be good enough.
"Message deleted. Next message…"
"Reilly pick up your fucking phone you fucking homo, just kidding I love you buddy, wondering where-…" He pressed the seven again, not even caring to hear the rest. It was inconsequential.
"Message deleted. Next message…" Reilly reached to bottom of the hill and rounded the corner.
"Reilly, you've broken curfew again. You're in big trouble when you get home."
Click.
Mom must have found out he came back at four in the morning. That was never good. The seven was hit again, and he clicked the phone shut again as he put it inside his back pocket.
His mind faded back into the memories of the night before, and an unbidden force begged to come to his hand. Quelling it instantly, it faded back into the recesses of his mind, where he had trained it to stay. Most of the time it worked.
Not today, apparently.
It was when he was watching a movie with his friends, all camped out on a Thursday night, hanging out at his friend Alex's house. They had gotten up to get something, what it was he couldn't remember at the moment, but it was unimportant. He had chosen to stay on the couch, not willing to miss the scene, which he had happened to find extremely interesting.
But right in the middle of what could have been a very important line, the presence leapt back into his mind, stronger and more concrete than it had been for so long. So strong that it had almost manifested itself solid, but it took a great deal of pushing and shoving to keep it from coming out. He wasn't about to ignore it, and left silently into the night to find the cause of the panic.
It had taken him almost two hours to clean up the mess, and by time he was done he knew they had left Alex's already, so he just headed for his own home. The whole thing continued to bother him, though. Occurrences like that didn't just…happen. It made him question the integrity of the world he lived on. He continued his walk down the street in the residential part of the city, a few cars of the early-bird breed of people moved here and there, heading to their jobs with sleepy eyes and tired mouths.
The school grounds were laden with kids lounging here and there, nobody willing to go inside the building until they absolutely had to. His eyes hovered over a few playing hackey sack, then they moved back towards his destination; the tree right next to the concrete steps. It was big enough to fit a handful of people comfortably under its shade, the territory had come when Reilly and his friend had beat the snot out of some idiot with a big head who decided to make a unwise comment about Reilly's appearance, and was promptly laid down flat. That was back when Reilly was tense and unwary of others, since the slightest touch on his shoulder from the punk had ignited the fight. After that he never really came back to the tree, so Reilly's newfound group had sort of taken it over.
All in all it was a rather good deal.
Tossing the backpack against the wide trunk, Reilly flopped down next to it, and pulled out a small leather-bound book from the front pocket. The tiny novel was no bigger than a diary, and looked like it had suffered quite a beating: the brown leather around the edges of the front cover were frayed and torn, and there were a few spots that looked they had been terribly singed.
He unbound the clasp and flipped to the last page, and picked back up where he had left the night before. His expression was calm, his eyebrows furrowing on occasion, his eyes lost deep in concentration. To anyone who wouldn't know what the book held, they would think it was a very intense novel.
Reilly's eyes reached the middle of the page, and he stopped reading. His eyes moved from the worn, yellowed paper to the leaves above him, studying the shifting pattern of the green. It was impossible, he thought, it was nigh unconceivable…and yet it was happening. The journal had indeed confirmed his suspicions, and even his worst fears.
The attack from the night before had not been such a freak accident as he hoped it was. On worlds everywhere the same occurrences had went on. Too many Bearers had reported too many attacks in too small a time frame for it to be pure coincidence. Reilly's mind turned over countless possibilities, reasons and motives for staging assaults on such a massive size, and just who would wan-
"Reilly, are you ever gonna finish that book of yours?"
The boy didn't take his eyes from the spot he was studying, knowing exactly who was talking. In a silent motion he re-clasped the book and stashed it in his sweatshirt pocket.
"The book will be done when it gets done."
His bright blue-green eyes moved from the tree to the speaker. Reilly smiled at her in his unreadable way. "I personally hope that day never comes."
The girls smiled a sad smile, heaved a huge sigh, and tossed her curly, brown hair behind her shoulder. She reached down, her metallic bangles jingling merrily as she ruffled his hair, only making it stand up a little more.
"Some days I wish you'd quit being such an enigma." Putting her backpack next to Reilly's she sat down next to him, her back resting against the tree. Reilly smiled as he patted her leg and resumed staring at the tree.
"Sorry." He tried to sound apologetic, but it only came out as sounding like he was tired. She shrugged, and turned abruptly to poke him in the ribs.
"You should be, Mr. I'm-gonna-leave-in-the-middle-of-the-movie."
He flinched when she poked him, jabbing him every time she said a word. He knew the reproof had been coming, and he forgot to prepare ahead of time. His head moved from the tree to his lap.
"Sorry…" He muttered again. "I…I got tired." Inside he winced. Oh wow…worst lie ever...She must have felt so too, because she poked him even harder. Her pretty face appeared before his vision, blocking his view of the ant crawling on his big toe. She smiled gently, her face so close he could see every freckle, every detail on her.
"You're a liar." She said softly, her words so quiet he could barely hear them above the crowd. He almost flinched again. He hated it when she got to him like that.
"I'm sorry, ok?" He tried smiling reassuringly. "I had some really important things to take care of…it got kind of...hectic last night."
He prayed she would understand, and let the matter drop. Instead of leaning back, she just sighed, her light breath tickling his face, and his heart rate increased just a little.
"Something bad happened, didn't it?"
It was more of a statement than a question, and all he could do was nod. "It's nothing a little time and a bunch of sword-swinging can't fix." At least I hope so… She giggled and the weight on his heart lifted a little.
"Why not guns?"
Reilly made a face. "I hate guns. They're inefficient. I'll take a big pointy thingy over that any day." The girl smiled again, and poked him in the leg as she sat back against the tree.
"You really are an odd one, Reilly. You're just one big ol' enigma." She threw her hands in the air for emphasis. His expression changed immediately when she said enigma once again.
"I really wish you'd stop calling me that. I'm not that complicated, you know..." She smiled widely and reached over to grab his cheeks.
"I know. But you look so damn cuuute when you're so mysterioussss…" She said in a baby voice, making him break out into a grin and grab her hands from his cheeks. The girl laughed out loud, and Reilly just continued to smirk.
"Em, just touch his penis and be done with it already."
Their heads flew up simultaneously, only to find a boy standing right above them, his arms crossed, grinning widely. It was at that exact moment that both teens realized that Reilly's hands were still clasped over Emily's, and they let go hurriedly, Emily blushing heavily and Reilly clearing his throat awkwardly.
The boy just chuckled loudly, tossed his bag on top of the other twos and took his seat on Reilly's left. Reilly sighed as he looked over at his blue-haired, grinning friend.
"How goes it, Alex?"
"It would have gone a lot better if you hadn't FUCKING BAILED ON US LAST NIGHT."
He shouted the last part noisily, eliciting a few looks and stares from some other groups of kids on the grass. Reilly just sighed, rubbing his forehead. He really didn't feel like lying again…
"It's ok, Alex. Reilly had something important to do last night." She looked over to Reilly for support. "Right, Rie?" He just nodded, mouthing lowly a 'thank you'. Alex just shrugged and leaned farther into the tree.
"Whatever you say, man. Just don't do it tonight." Reilly cocked his head at his friend and eyed him, eyebrows raised.
"What's tonight?"
'We've got to go get some suits, remember? I thought we agreed we were going to get some thrift store suits for that dance thingy or whatever." The brunette boy frowned for a minute more, then realization came across his face.
He remembered when they found out about some dance (he thought it might be homecoming, but hadn't paid enough attention to be sure) and him and Alex agreed they would get some cheap suits and act like "the proper gents they were on the inside."
"Oh right," Reilly nodded, brushing a long strand of hair out of his face. "That thing. Yeah, we can do that." A sigh came from behind the two boys, and Reilly turned his head to see Emily shaking her head in hopelessness. They both frowned.
"What?" They asked in unison.
"You guys are going to make complete and total jackasses out of yourselves, aren't you?" There was a long pause after she stopped talking, and both boys pretended to think about it.
"Uh…yeah, pretty much."
"That's the general idea."
She just sighed again. "Well then, who are you going with? You can't get inside without girls, and I'm pretty sure you guys can't be each others dates." Alex snapped his fingers in mock anger.
"Damn." He muttered. Reilly shook his head in disappointment.
"Looks like I'm not going, huh?" He intertwined his fingers behind his head and stared up at the canopy of green.
"What are you talking about?"
"C'mon Em, nobody's going to go with me, so I obviously can't go."
Alex erupted into laughter, and Emily snickered slightly. Reilly looked at her, his eyes a mixture between anger and confusion. "What?"
"Reilly, you really are clueless, aren't you?" She stopped shaking from laughter long enough to clear her throat and start counting off her fingers. "Ok, 73 of the girls think you're one of the hottest things walking, and the other 27 think you should cut your hair once in a while, maybe shave, but think you're still rather smokin'." The brunette teen arched an eyebrow, loosing it under the curtain of his hair.
"You took a survey?"
The girl just shrugged as she twirled a curl of hair in her fingers. "Curiosity got the better of me and Kelly, so we wrote it up on the door in the girls bathroom." Alex erupted into laughter as he leaned back, smacking his head against the tree with a resounding whump.
"That's awesome!" He said loudly, still laughing and ignoring his smarting head.
Reilly just turned a lighter shade of red, and started staring at his toes again. Alex started singing a little song called "Reilly's gonna get laid", and Emily started blushing and telling him to shut up, but Reilly hardly pair that much attention.
His mind was on bigger things, his hand silently reaching for the little leather-bound book.
The hallways began filling up rapidly after the bell had rung, everyone rushing too and fro, trying to find their first class and talking to friends so fast Reilly could hardly hear them. He walked along the squeaky linoleum floor calmly, a rock in an ebbing river of rushing students.
Alex and Emily had long since departed, both breaking off for their classrooms. They had reached Alex's first, Alex waving bye and starting a new chorus of "Reilly's gonna get laid" and promptly receiving a smack in the arm from the girl.
The latter of the pair broke off second, heading towards her class. Reilly was just about to walk away when she cough his free hand, whirled him around and pulled him into a brief hug before drawing away, eyes on the floor, a small tint to her cheeks creeping up as she muttered a goodbye. Reilly smiled slightly as he remembered the act.
He had spent the past year here, and yet he still didn't understand some of their behaviors.
It wasn't like he hadn't experience human interaction before he had come to the city, it was just he had never had the time to try and understand it.
Having friends like them was something entirely new to him. Alex was brash, loud going on the verge of being obnoxious, and extremly cocky. He was annoying sometimes, yes, and occasionally he did manage to irritate Reilly. But still, he was pretty popular and a lot of people seemed to like him, and he was Reilly's best friend. He was Alex, imperfections and all, and Reilly had learned to accept it.
Emily was almost the complete opposite of Alex, and putting the two together sometimes caused problems. She wasn't always loud, and never annoying, but when it came down to it she was just as firey as Alex, if not a little more sometimes. He had watched the two argue once, and she roared him down to size within a few minutes, reducing the blue-haired male to nothing but a speck under her angry stare. Aside from those rare occasions, she was usually a little quieter, especially when she was alone with Reilly.
He didn't have the memory capacity to remember back to before his 'service'; all he could really remember was the constant fighting, the never-ending war. It was like being in the army, and he had gone AWOL. He really didn't favor thinking of it like deserting, but there was no other way to consider it. He had left, and they still hadn't found him. He didn't know how many years it must have been on the outside since he left, but he hoped that by now they had just stopped looking. Vaguely, he wondered if he had had friends before.
The teacher had been droning for so long Reilly had lost track, but he wasn't paying any attention anyway. Reilly had gotten B's on everything he had turned in, so the teacher hardly cared whether or not the teenager paid attention. Which was an extremely good thing, because Reilly had more important things to attend to, and that was why he had the leather book laying open in front of him.
He eyes skimmed the page, trying to pick up where he had left off before Emily had walked over to him at the tree, and finally found the dated entry about 3/4ths way down the page. It had moved a few lines from he was reading it before.
Keyblade Bearer #870-245 Extan, Keeper of Ivalice
Like many others, I too must report on strange occurrences in my section of the universe. Large amounts of powerful Heartless have been spotted in my area, all attacks starting without warning or signs of their arrival. Their moves are swift; they appear long enough to take more into their growing numbers, then disappear. Of late I have taken to visiting the Door quite frequently, yet every time it seems to be sealed just a tightly as the day I closed it. These attacks are peculiar for many reasons, foremost being that these are no mere Shadows, but heartless of enormous size and alarming ferociousness. It has become clear to me that these sieges upon Port Royal are not random in nature, but rather calculated attacks, leading me to believe that these attacks have been orchestrated by a third party.
For this reason, I request additional personnel in my area...
Reilly didn't need to read any more. This was the eighth report like this he had read in the past week. He knew he wasn't the only one reading this, he knew that everywhere else in the universe others just like him had read the same things...and yet, nothing seemed to be happening. One Keybearer had requested backup for a few days now, expressing a dire need, a true desperation. His entries stopped coming just a day ago. Reilly assumed his heart had been consumed by the Darkness. Poor guy...He shook his head sadly.
Picking up the book again, he flipped to the next page, and only got past the entry date when the bell rang. Clasping the book shut, he grabbed his notebook, stuck his pen behind his ear, and headed towards the door without saying a word.
This was how most of his classes went, except the ones he had friends in. And seeing as how Reilly lacked in excellent social skills, making new friends wasn't much of an option.
Though he had never told them, Reilly was truly grateful that Alex and them had found him when they did, otherwise he might have gone through the past year in complete solitude, something he was one sure he could do, but now not so much.
Directly outside the door, Reilly stared at the giant banner right before him, written with sloppy paint, reading "HOMECOMMING DANCE! ADMISSION TO THE DANCE IS $5. DATES REQUIRED!" Reilly swore lowly and turned to go to lunch, his mind stuck on that damn dance. Emily was right, he did need a date to get in, and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask Alex. No faggotry, as his blue-haired friend had so elequently put it.
He knew one thing, though: He couldn't ask anyone. He just couldn't. He was no good with people, and he sure as hell wasn't good with girls. The sad fact was that he just didn't know how to act in the world. Yes, he was awkward. He admitted it.
Pushing open the double doors, Reilly wound his way to the outdoor courtyard. Seeing as how it was such a nice day, he didn't really feel like being inside, or standing in the lunchline, for that matter. He just wouldn't eat lunch today, he figured. It's not like he was all that hungry anyways. There was just something about greasy cafeteria food that didn't appeal to him, and he could go without eating for a little while longer.
Taking a seat beneath a tree, Reilly leaned back and closed his eyes, sighing heavily. The sun was warm, the breeze was nice and light, blowing the abnormally clean city air around his face and throwing his hair in all directions at once. These were the times he felt truly at peace, the times when problems like impending doom or school dances felt far, far away.
A world of total solitude, a bubble of ignorance and lying to himself.
"Hi Reilly!"
And just like that, his bubble shattered and he was once again hurled back into the real world, where people besides himself somehow existed. Opening his eyes, he came face to face with what appeared to be a pair of bare legs, connected to a rather scantily clad girl. A girl whom he happened to despise for many reasons.
"Lauren." He said calmly, fighting the urge to grit his teeth into a fine powder. "To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?"
A flicker of confusion passed over her face and the faces of her cohorts, and one even muttered the word 'dubious' under her breath as if the definition was locked somewhere in her fashion and alcohol cluttered brain.
"I was just wondering how you were doing today!" Lauren proclaimed brightly, taking a seat next to the rather irritated male (and growing more and more irritated by the second).
Sighing impatiently, he ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his face in a desperate attempt to somehow simply erase the fact that one of the dumbest, yet oddly one of the most popular girls was sitting next to him while he was trying to think.
Opening his eyes into squints, he observed a few boys passing by, one of which was shaking his head sadly as he watched the girls clutter around Reilly. He knew how badly that one boy wanted to be in his position.
Most boys did.
"Well, I was doing fine, but certain…circumstances ruined my happy mood." He replied calmly, trying oh so very hard not to scream in frustration. A few of the girls made 'aww' noises, and one even made to touch his leg in what might have been sympathy, but a quick change of posture on his part made her withdraw, thinking better of it.
"Poor Reilly!" Lauren cooed. "I'm sorry your day is going so badly. What happened?"
The desire to open his mouth and say "Well, somewhere out in the universe thousands of people are losing their hearts to the physical manifestations of pure darkness and evil because of unknown military complications, and I can't do a damn think about it. Also, you're a bitch." Was almost overpowering, but he bit is tongue and shook his head sadly.
"Not a whole lot. Just…woke up in a bad mood is all."
A few nodded, and Lauren patted his shoulder. Nearly shuddering in disgust, Reilly made a mental note to double wash his sweatshirt the next chance he got.
The girl quite honestly repulsed him. He had heard the tales of her exploits in the locker rooms after gym class told with so much nervous and excited joy, as if they were speaking of taboo. He knew of her ideas of what love and life were, and they weren't very impressive. 'My God, the horrors the Seers must see in her mind.' He thought with bitter amusement.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Reilly." She said, brushing her blonde bangs (just as fake as her false sympathetic tone) out of her eyes. "But hey, do you know about the homecoming dance?"
Letting his head fall back against the tree trunk with a dull thud, Reilly groaned under his breath, still trying to be as polite as possible. Patience has its limits, though.
"Yeah," He said dryly. "I've heard of it."
But honestly, who hadn't? It was on almost everyone's lips: Who are you going to ask? What does your dress look like? Are you going to splurge for a limo or not? Are you actually going? What do you mean you don't want to go? I can hook you up, you know. Are you sure? Really? Reilly, c'mon, it would be fun! What do you mean you don't dance? Aww, you're no fun.
"Well, do you have a date?"
"Um…yes?"
Ouch. Another bad lie. Too soon to think of anything else. Looking over at Lauren, he found her face slowly moving from shock to anger and almost even outrage.
"Oh really." She hissed through her tightening mouth. "Who?"
Tearing his gaze from her hardening glare, he scanned the outdoors quickly, trying desperately to find someone, anyone, who he could tell her he was going with. Maybe one of the others he had already refused? No, he might actually have to go with them, and most of them were kind of obsessive. One even broke out into tears when he shot her down. Steadily, he hit the very end of the grass, where, under a few trees, sat a group of girls he knew very well, and one he knew incredibly well. No other option.
Suck it up or go with Lauren.
"Emily." He said finally, looking back up at the now full-bitch mode Lauren. "I'm going with Emily."
"Emily? You mean that short girl you always hang out with?" She made a noise of disgust. "She's not even pretty."
Not even pretty? Now it was Reilly's turn to get angry.
His eyes flashing, he stood up and brushed off the seat of his jeans. Giving Lauren and her little gang rather contemptuous looks, he brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. "Never talk about her like that again. Excuse me."
Turning on his heels, he stalked off down the hill back towards the building, his insides simmering quietly. How dare that used-up piece of trash make judgments on other people, people better than her? People smarter, people nicer…people who were a lot more attractive than she was? Reilly almost reddened at the last thought, but dismissed it quickly.
As he headed through the glass doors to the cafeteria, he realized with a twinge of something unfamiliar what all that had just happened meant. He would now have to ask Emily. Something undistinguishable and foreign swirled in his gut.
Whatever it was, he knew the feeling wasn't going to make the task any easier.
The rest of the school day passed without any notable changes; everything just seemed to drift quietly by like was just one big, fuzzy dream. Reilly was far too busy with his own issues to worry about such trivial things like Algebra. His mind wandered from the journal entries, then back to the fact he had to practically ask his friend out, then back to the journal, then back to-damn it. Where was his head? He needed to put this dance thing out of his mind and focus on the real matters, the important issues.
Issues like what Emily would look like in a dress.
Ack. Stop it!
The bell rang amongst ceaseless babble as Reilly gathered up his notebook and silently glided towards the door, weaving in between people here and there to make the trip to his locker go faster. Why did everyone feel the urge to stop in the middle of the hall to talk, anyway? He had a mission, and he would be damned if a group of tiny freshmen girls would stop him. Walking directly through the group (eliciting a few gasps, a couple mean looks, and even an "Oh my God, Reilly just touched my arm!" from an obvious admirer) he plowed his way to his beaten, rusty green locker.
Shoving his notebook and little leather book inside his bag, he hastily zipped it up, slammed his locker, and turned around to lean against the wall. It was tradition to wait for Emily to come down the hall, and the two walked out together. It was just a stupid little thing they did, and Reilly had more than once tried to get out of it (what was the point, anyway?), but only got as far as the front door before Emily caught up with him and proceeded to beat him with her books mercilessly until he apologized, no matter how half-heartedly. After a while, though, he stopped questioning it and fell into a pleasant groove. It was kind of nice to have something like that to count on every day, no matter how small it was.
"How long have you been waiting over here?"
Opening his eyes and lifting his face, Reilly shrugged at the brunette standing before him, her backpack filled to the brim with ungodly amounts of homework. "Not long, just a few seconds."
"Sorry, it's just all these books I had to bring." Grunting, she shifted the weight on her shoulders. "They're just so heavy! I don't know how you can honestly just bring that one notebook home and still get the grades you do."
"Luck."
Making a disapproving noise with her tongue, she hefted the backpack again and stared walking down the hall. As the pair made their way down the hall, Reilly noted how Emily strained under the weight of her backpack, how she slumped and hunched with a look of great exertion on her face. It was completely unnecessary.
"Let me carry that for you." He said quietly, and Emily looked up at him, smiling.
"Oh, that's alright. I can mana-"
With one swift motion, Reilly took the backpack out of her grip and of her shoulder, hauled it onto his own shoulder, and continued walking as if nothing had changed. Glancing over at the silent girl, he smiled slightly, the action tugging at the corners of his mouth just enough to give off a ghost of a smile.
"I wasn't asking, Em."
Blushing a little, she brushed a few bangs behind her ears and looked down at the ground.
"You don't have to do that…" She mumbled low enough so Reilly could just barely hear her over the buzz of the leaving crowd around them.
"With you grunting and groaning over there, I had to do something." Grinning, he pushed open the double doors and took a step outside. "I was afraid I'd see you turn into a hunchback right before my eyes."
The pair walked down the streets calmly, neither really saying a word. Emily was seemingly distracted by the turning leaves and the almost perfectly blue sky, her hands behind her back, whistling faintly. Reilly, however calm he looked on the outside, was an entirely different story on the inside. His mind spun, his brain turning out a thousand plans to ask Emily and dismissing all of them just as quickly.
How hard was it to just ASK her?
Finally, in what felt like no time at all, the pair arrived at Emily's doorstep. Silently, they ascended the few wooden steps to her front porch. Turning around, the brunette girl began to unlock her door, and Reilly knew that if he didn't ask her now then it might as well be never. He inhaled and opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. No words would come. Why was it so hard to ask? It's not like he was afraid or anything…
But as she turned back around, and looked up at him with round, pale blue eyes, he realized with a horrible tightening in his chest that he was very, very much afraid. He had to face it; human interaction just wasn't his thing. Whenever someone touched him he either flinched or tensed up like a spring, ready to uncoil at lightening speed. And so, he just studied her intently with unblinking eyes.
He stared. He couldn't help it.
"Uh…Reilly?" Her voice brought him back to reality, the sounds of the City returning. Had he truly not heard them for the past few minutes? He didn't think so. It was either they had stopped completely during that time or he had just blocked them out. If it was the latter, then he was a little fearful for his mental frame.
"Hm?" Was all he could manage to say, the clump in his throat refusing to dislodge easily.
"Can I have my backpack now?"
"Oh." Reilly removed the backpack from his shoulder and placed the strap in her outstretched hand. As soon as the weight transferred from his arm to hers, the backpack tumbled to the ground, unable to be supported by Emily.
Sighing in frustration, the girl grabbed the backpack and swung it forcefully into her open doorway. Brushing hair out of her eyes, she looked back up at Reilly, smiling faintly.
"Well…I guess I'll see you tomorrow, if you guys decide to go to the dance. If not…uh…"
She faded off, unsure of how to finish her sentence. Reilly just nodded, unsure of how else to respond. An awkward silence permeated the air around the pair, and Emily turned to head in her house. Reilly inhaled deeply, feeling his second wind come around (now that he wasn't held captive by her gaze).
"Will you go to the dance with me?" Was what Reilly was sure he had asked, but the words had rushed out of his mouth so fast it had just wound up sounding like "wilugotdanwitme?"
Whatever she had heard come out of his mouth, it made Emily stop dead in her tracks, and pivot slowly to face the taller brunette with curious eyes, a grin growing on her face.
"What'd you say?"
Inhaling deeply, trying hard to push back down the lump that had re-arisen to his throat (why'd she have to look at him like that?), Reilly decided to try again.
"Will you go to the dance with me?" He said each word painfully slow, as if it took great effort to force each one out. And honestly, it did. Nerves can do that to a boy.
There was a moment of silence, but not nearly as awkward as before. Like a curtain was lifted. Emily, before Reilly had a chance to say anything else, broke into a grin, eyes sparkling, and nodded vigorously. In an instant the lump vanished, the oppressive hotness on his face replaced with a cool breeze, and his lungs functioned fully once again.
"Great!" He cried, nearly grinning. "I'll call you later about details, ok?"
Emily just nodded again. She looked almost a little dazed as Reilly stepped off her porch and waved goodbye as he headed off to meet Alex.
"Hell, I'm just surprised you actually asked her." Alex commented lightly as he sifted through the rack of clothing. "I never thought you'd get the balls enough to do that."
"You're the one for all this womanizing stuff, Alex." Reilly retorted as he shifted a few jackets on the other side of the rack. "Not me."
"Yeah, no kidding."
"You know, you're not being very supportive." He told him.
Alex just shrugged as he slung a tweed jacket over his arm. "I'm completely supportive of you going on a date." His blue haired head peeked over the rack at Reilly. "I've known you for a year, and this is the first date you've ever gone on since you came here." He winked. "Personally I think that day has long been overdue."
"Hm."
A light blue jacket hit Reilly's head before he could say anything more, closely followed by a pair of matching pants. "This is way too small for me." Alex's explanation came from above the rack. "If you don't buy this I'll lose all respect and punch you in the face."
The brunette just shrugged as surveyed the suit. It looked like it might even be too small for him, too. "And what makes you think you can land a punch on me, exactly?"
"Because I outweigh you by 30 pounds."
"What about that one guy on my first day? He was pretty big too." Reilly offered. A grunt from the other side of the rack was Alex's only reply as Reilly walked off to try on the suit.
The suit wasn't obscenely small, but it wasn't exactly loose-fitting, either. With the white shirt he had found, and a pair of solid white leather shoes, Reilly felt like he looked like someone out of what people on this world called the 60's.
"Not too shabby, my fine friend." Alex said as he emerged from his own dressing room dressed in a tan tweed suit.
Reilly nodded in approval, and turned back to survey his own appearance in the large mirror once more. As he did, his face paled, his fists clenched.
The figure he faced in the mirror was not the one he had faced before.
In the mirror stood Reilly, looking just as tense in the reflection as he felt, but the blue suit was gone. Rather, in its place was a long black coat that reached the boys legs, which were covered in knee-length black boots. Reilly's fists clenched tighter, causing the black-gloved fists in the reflection to clench as well, his reflections right hand closed tightly around the black handle of a very odd looking sword. But it wasn't his unusual appearance, or the sword clenched in his hand, but rather what was in the background of the mirror that made his eyes narrow and breath become shallow.
Shadows, formless and shifting, swirled around his figure. The darkness curled and waved, the occasional pair of yellow eyes appearing in the middle of the black. Calmly, as though nothing was wrong, Reilly inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. After a moment, he reopened them to look at his reflection again.
There he stood, blue suit and all, Alex standing beside him once again. No jacket, no sword, no swirling mass of darkness. Another few moments of tension passed, Reilly realized his fist was squeezed too tight, and relaxed just a bit. The darkness felt so...tangible, so real. For a minute he could almost feel the darkness surround him, closing in on every part of his being.
"Reilly!"
"Hm?"
"I said: It's getting kind of late, the store's closing. Do you want to get these and go get something to eat?"
"No…" Reilly trailed off. "I think I'm just going to get home. I'm a little tired."
The streets were dark when the pair left the store; the lamps had just started to come on. After placing the bag with his new suit in his backpack, he began the slow and steady process of going home. He wasn't entirely lying when he told Alex he was tired: The vision in the mirror and made him incredibly tense, and the exertion of keeping the power in the back of his mind at bay was quite a work-out. Plus, an occurrence like that never had a good outcome, and in case he had to leave in the middle of the night again he didn't want to have to make an excuse to abandon his friend.
The streets were calm, people walking sparsely on the streets, never being with Reilly for more than a few minutes before going on their way to their homes from work. The sun was setting behind Reilly, throwing his shadow across the pavement before him like a behemoth. As the sun fell farther and farther, his shadow grew longer and longer, his arms and legs growing thinner and thinner.
He walked on, the tension in him building again. Something was wrong. Blue-green eyes scanned the scene around, trying to pinpoint the source of the feelings of dread, but not finding anything particular. Everything seemed normal. Until his eyes fell back onto his shadow laying before him.
And that's when he dropped the backpack.
His shadow had shifted during the time he had neglected it, and it appeared before him as a completely different figure. The thin and gangly arms had shortened and grew thicker, clawed hands at their ends. These were attached to a hunched torso and spindly legs. The head, no longer the outline of Reilly's shaggy face, had morphed into a rounder, balder head with two giant antennae jutting from the top.
The boy stopped dead in his tracks, staring hard at the Shadow with growing intensity. Before his eyes, the Shadow rose from the ground, no longer two dimensional, and stood before Reilly, staring with dull, dead yellowy eyes. It leered at Reilly with a hungry, longing look whilethe boy was busy calmly removing his sandals and placing them on the sidewalk behind him, his own piercing eyes never leaving the Shadow.
Then, as quick as lightening and with just as little warning, the Shadow lunged, claws extended to carve out Reilly's heart.
It never got the chance.
A millisecond before the Shadow connected with Reilly, the creature was impaled directly through the chest with a curiously shaped sword. The same sword from his mirror image. The boy watched as the Shadow hissed and melted into a pool of black around his weapon.
Letting the sword fall back to his side, Reilly closed his eyes and waited calmly.
He didn't have to wait long, as a swish of air told him that another Shadow had manifested itself to his right, and he moved his right arm to counter the claws. He carved through the Shadow's waist while it was in mid-leap, and the two parts of the creature fell to the ground.
He gritted his teeth as he pivoted around completely to block another pair of claws and cut through shadow-flesh.
The creatures were growing bolder and bolder as more attacked at once. Reilly took a step forward as he cut through another three, and just as another two came from his left he snapped his fingers and sent the two colliding into each other with the invisible force of gravity. While the two Shadows shrieked with confusion as to why they were plastered together, Reilly decapitated both in a quick motion right before kicking another in the chest, sending it reeling back.
Extending his hand, he could feel the buzz surge through his veins until his hair stood on end. An electric shock surged around him, zapping holes in various black creatures.
He barely had time to blink before ducking as a taloned hand carved through the air right where his head used to be. Spinning around he took the Shadow out then proceeded to run through the pool of black it was leaving behind as he sprinted towards another pair of Shadows.
Banishing his sword he grabbed both of the creatures heads and pushed up, vaulting his body into the air and sending this down in the process. In midair the weapon appeared in his hand and he brought it down upon the twin Shadows, felling both in unison.
Reilly barely had time to catch a glimpse of two yellow eyes before leaning back limbo-style, his body like a crab. Putting all the weight on his arms, he propelled himself feet first into the face of the Shadow, placing himself upright, the squashed Shadow head underneath.
Calmly, he observed as more and more Shadows grew directly from the ground, lurking nearby, poised to strike. Bitterly, he swore.
"This is worse than last night…" He muttered as he counted off all the Shadows surrounding him like a hungry mob. He knew the fight had to end, and end soon, before some innocent bystanders came into the mix.
A burst of energy ran through him as he snapped his fingers once again, using his Gravity magic's powers once again. This time, the Shadows were sent flying into the air, held above the ground by Reilly's pure will. Extending his hand to the sky, Reilly focused himself on another magic. Beams of light shot out of the ground, impaling each Shadow through the torso and destroying every single one instantly.
He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, eyes closed. He hadn't even broken a sweat. Reopening his eyes, he faced what he previously thought to be an empty street. He was wrong.
A lone figure stood in the middle of the street, not more than 300 feet from where Reilly stood. He wore the same peculiar jacket Reilly wore in his mirror image.
The same coat as the Order…
The figures hood was drawn, effectively cloaking their facial features in the now darkened streets. The boy gritted his teeth at just the sight of the figure. It wasn't merely the fact that he recognized the jacket, but something else set him on edge. A force, thick and almost solid was radiating from the figure, the same force the Shadows exhumed, but in greater vigor.
"Who are you?" He asked through gritted teeth, the weapon reappearing in his hand due to his nerves being set on edge yet again. The figure did not respond, but merely raised a finger to wag at the boy, as if chastising him. Mocking him. It made Reilly snarl.
Taking a step backwards, a portal of darkness manifested itself behind him, and he vanished from the street. Not two seconds after he departed, the streetlights kicked into life, bathing the once forbidding landscape with friendly yellow light. Even the stars seemed to come out of hiding, for within a minute the sky was riddled with them.
Confused and worried, Reilly returned to the sidewalk where his backpack and shoes lay. He hoisted it on his shoulder, slipped into his sandals, and continued his trek home as stony-faced and detached as before. He looked neither tired nor upset, but merely relaxed and distant.
Like nothing even happened.
Lo and behold, the intro and first chapter to The Sun and the Moon. Letting me know what you think would be greatly appreciated, even if its less than nice. Anything helps, right?