Sora lost everything in a fire. Now orphaned, he is fostered to a rich, upscale family that already has a less than welcoming son, Riku. Struggle ensues as these two opposite scale brothers learn about each other, their pasts, and themselves.
UNDERGOING INTENSE REVISING UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
"I thought I was coming over," a tall blond inquired as Riku stepped out of his exhausted Cadillac, slamming the door and leaving the keys sitting in the driver's seat.
"I needed to get out of there," he growled, shoving by his friend and stalking into the house.
The blond's bright blue eyes widened and he rubbed the back of his head nervously as he sighed and closed his front door, following Riku. "Sure, you can barge right on in. It's not your house or anything, hell, you weren't even invited, but sure, come on in."
"Quit whining, Cloud," Riku retorted, his voice carrying from the foyer as he stomped up through his best friend's house and up the stairs to his room. Cloud rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest.
"I like how you rampage around my house like you own the place," he retorted, stepping into his own room just as Riku collapsed, sprawled out on his ruby comforter. He raised an eyebrow as he seated himself on a black cot in the corner of his room. "So you leave the confinement of your room just to lay down in mine?"
"Cloud!" Riku groaned, shoving his head underneath one of Cloud's pillows. "I'm not in the fucking mood!" The silver haired teen slumped against the mattress and even across the room, Cloud could see he was visibly shaking. The blond sighed, shaking his head.
"You know they haven't gone home yet," he muttered, trying to strike some sort of conversation with his moody friend. "There's more chance that they'll come back empty handed than anything."
"I wouldn't know," Riku growled, his voice slightly muffled against the pillow. "I might have broken my phone," he added sheepishly, resisting the urge to look up and see the incredulous look on Cloud's face.
"Better than breaking noses," he smirked, earning him a grumble of laughter. After a few more moments of comfortable silence, Riku finally lifted his head, resting his chin solemnly on the pillow.
He sighed, his voice cracking, "I just don't know what to do anymore, Cloud. I can't go through this again." Cloud had an aching retort at the tip of his tongue, but his best friend's tone made him hesitate.
Riku was never one to show emotion, even years prior to his sudden isolation. He face was delude of happiness and laughter. Only a select few could manage even a smile out of him. But Riku's voice was caked with desperation that Cloud hadn't heard in over a year and a half. He caught the loathing fear flashing through Riku's intense eyes and the frown on his face looked more dull than he thought possible.
"If you had to go through anything else, we would be talking through glass at either an insane assylum or prison," Cloud agreed bleakly, standing to his feet and cautiously walking over to his friend, sitting on the edge of the bed carefully. When Riku was emotionally unstable, which seemed to become more frequent since he had known the kid, he was prone to lashing out like a venomous snake over anything.
He was a ticking time bomb, ready for anything to set him off. Slowly, he placed a hand on Riku's shoulder and was shocked to find it was still trembling. "Riku," he sighed, leaning down and hugging his friend tightly, screw the backlash.
Physical contact was another thing that Riku had tended to shy away from nowadays, so it truly surprised Riku that he was allowing it now. It proved how much turmoil was conflicting the teen. Riku stiffened at the touch. Between him and his friends, affection was never really shown, and as much as he clenched his teeth and inwardly groaned that Cloud would now have blackmail against him, he appreciated it all the same.
After isolating himself from nearly everyone who was close to him, it was a rare gesture. He wasn't even on good speaking terms with his own parents, least of all his few friends. And while he allowed the hug, he point blank refused to cry. He was no longer capable of displaying that emotion.
So although tears refused to wet his cheeks, his breathing was still ragged and heaving as if he had been doing so. It took a few more minutes for Riku's breathing to slow down and his body to stop trembling and as soon as he overcame the sudden overwhelming grief, he immediately returned to his old facade.
"You can get off of me now, Cloud," he said gruffly, "I don't need to be coddled like a baby."
Cloud grinned as he rolled his eyes, listening to his friend and stepping away as the silver haired teen drew himself into a sitting position. "Whatever you say, Riku. But someone always needs a shoulder to lean on sometime or another."
Riku just snorted. "Do you mind if I stay here for a little bit?" he asked almost quietly, nervously playing with his pale fingers in his lap. He was utterly uncomfortable with what his best friend had just witnessed.
Cloud's eyes widened in humor. "So the stoic Riku gets babied and actually asks if he can stay? Damn, pinch me, would you?" He grinned mischeiviously.
"I'll do more than pinch you. I'll beat your fucking ass," Riku threatened half-heartedly, too exhausted to really put any venom behind his words. Cloud just laughed good-naturedly.
"Don't want to go pushing away the only friend you have," he mumbled teasingly.
Riku's expression soured. "No, I guess I don't," he said in agreement, much to Cloud's surprise and his own expense. He sighed loudly, running a hand through his silver hair tiredly. It had already proved to be a rotten day, and it wasn't past noon yet. He was tense and his emotions were still swirling around his head in a confusing whir of anger, betrayal, and hurt. Hurt beyond belief.
He remembered the last time his heart had felt so heavy and the mere thought of it made him feel nauseas and uneasy. He hid his face in his hands, his fingers deftly pulling at his bangs. This couldn't be happening to him again. Whoever said history repeats itself was a bitch, he decided instantly. He had tried so hard to escape the truth, but how could he when reality was slapping it across his face?
He supposed he should take his friend's advice. After all, what were the chances really that his parents were going to come back with a kid the first day out searching? He decided, at least for the time being, to take a page out of Cloud's book and relax and hope for the best.
Cloud, noting Riku's sudden relaxation, breathed a sigh of relief. "You want breakfast? I could bet money that you didn't eat."
Riku rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he grumbled, straightening up and sauntering out of Cloud's bedroom. Cloud smiled, following him.
Riku would be fine for now. But that's what always put him on edge. Riku was unpredictable. One minute you were walking on eggshells with him, and the other he was a docile dog turned against his owner.
He was almost positive that Riku would be fine for the rest of the day. Almost. It wouldn't be the first time Riku snapped from a perfectly good mood. It happened before. And Cloud could also bet money that it was sure to happen again. And soon.
"Welcome to Hollow Bastian Orphanage, Mr. and Mrs. Masaki. My name is Aerith Gainsborough," A tall woman politely offered her hand as she ushered the couple in eagerly.
"Please call me Tifa," the woman said, straightening the wrinkles from her charcoal pencil skirt. She was tall and pale with straight black hair that fell down the small of her back. Aerith immeadiately determined that she and her husband, clad in a business suit, silver hair angling his square jaw, were fairly wealthy. She introduced her husband, Zexion, in a very business-like way before sitting in one of the open chairs in front of Aerith's desk.
"Before we begin, I just want to brief you on the adoption process and our program," Aerith continued in a chorusing voice, rummaging through stacks of paper as she began speaking.
As prestigious a listener she was, Tifa could not help but be instantly drawn to the room across theirs, where a few children were quietly sitting around a room, for the most part keeping to themselves. She felt warm fingers slide between hers and she looked up at her husband, smiling sadly. Every single child in the room couldn't have been older than Vanitas before he passed away.
He squeezed her hand encouragingly and she took a deep breath. She wanted this. Her husband wanted it. Once Riku was out of college, they were alone, although it wasn't as if his presence the past year and a half had graced them at all with his company. Riku was already so far gone and it broke her heart to know that when he left the house for good, the void they felt now would be no different.
She barely caught Aerith's words, "We have some wonderful children here," when her heart skipped a beat and her grip tightened painfully around Zexion's hands. There was a pale blond boy nudging his friend, who looked up. She was met with a pair of sad, captivating blue eyes framed with odd, spikey locks of hair. The boy saw her gaze and jerked his head away quickly, gluing his eyes to the floor, but not before Tifa saw the fear flash across his tan features.
Her muscles went rigid and one word crossed her mind hauntingly. Vanitas. She blinked several times before she realized she was holding her breath and staring at the brunette boy. "I'm sorry," she began quickly, interrupting Aerith as she droned on, "but who is that boy in the far corner?"
Zexion looked sharply to her, a questioning glance in his eyes. She nudged him with their interlocked fingers, leaning forward in her seat as Aerith paused, sighing.
She didn't want to put Sora into another foster home. Not after the first too many disasterous attempts. Each re-run had taken a considerable toll on the boy and she had feared every single morning that her trials to find him the perfect home had been in vain. She had pushed too far and too long for the poor child, so it was with great hesitation that she answered the expectant couple.
"That is Sora Hikari," she said slowly, noticing the way Tifa and Zexion merely seemed to hear her but not listen to the complexity of her words. "He's the veteran around here. He came in when he was six, hasn't left this place for eight years," she explained sadly.
He didn't deserve to have to fit himself into another family's lives. All the boy's previous adoptions ended with him taking the shorter end of the stick, bearing the blame that it was his fault he had not worked out with the adopting family, when all along, Aerith had never had a single problem with him.
"He's been through twelve different foster families-"
"Honey," Tifa gasped, staring wide-eyed at her husband, "He resembles him so much."
A grim expression clouded Zexion's face. He sighed deeply, "I know."
Aerith's eyes flitted between them nervously. She had seen many families that were charmed with Sora's beatiful face and shy exterior, but none of them wanted to know about his inner turmoil. She fidgeted for a moment before she made a split-second decision, purely out of desperation.
Sora would never forgive her for selling Roxas out like that. If he hadn't come into the picture, she wasn't sure where he would be right now.
"Now Roxas here is a charming young boy, very intelligent. He's only been placed in one foster home who were unable to keep him because of a financial situation-"
"Can we see Sora?" Tifa asked unperturbed, still leaning forward in her seat.
Aerith's face darkened slightly as she managed to keep her tone polite. "O-Of course." She stood up slowly, flicking her long braid off her shoulder before turning to face them. "Look, I know Sora is a handsome young boy. Everyone seems to believe he is the main attraction, but he's not some animal to look at. There's a reason why he hasn't lasted more than five months in a foster home," she ground out bitterly, her mind whirring. She had to think of something to convince this family to look at another child.
"Nonsense," Tifa said sharply, shaking her head. "Ms. Gainsborough, I understand that this must be a delicate situation. However, you are misguided if you think we are like every other family," she said testily. Zexion's hand came down quickly and cautiously on her shoulder.
Aerith pursed her lips slightly as she nodded and walked across the room to retrieve Sora, slightly put-out.
Zexion looked worriedly at his wife, his brow furrowing. "Tifa, I'm not so sure this is a good idea anymore."
Tifa took a steady breath, softening her gaze."Of course it is," she replied determinedly. "I just don't believe there is justice in perceiving that we are going to be the same as those other families," she stated in a matter-of-factly. Zexion leaned further back in his seat, sighing. When his wife became self-righteous, it was better to let her be and calm down.
When Aerith returned, the small brunette boy was right on her heels, his face downcast and his eyes darting nervously between Aerith and the door.
"Hi, Sora," She began, noticing his timidness. "I'm Tifa and this is my husband, Zexion. We're very pleased to meet you."
Sora peered carefully through his chocolate bangs, eyeing the couple. The woman was sitting straight in her chair, her legs crossed professionally. He bit his lip under their scrutinizing stares.
"Go ahead and take a seat, Sora," Aerith said, pushing her rolling chair from behind her desk. He nodded and obeyed silently, thankful that the desk somewhat blocked the rest of his body.
"Would you like to tell us about yourself?" Tifa asked, smiling brightly at the quiet brunette. He chanced a glance at the woman, whose voice seemed almost stern at first, but then she spoke so softly to him.
"Umm, I," he stammered.
"Why don't we tell you a little about ourselves first?" Tifa offered, quickly upon his uncertainty.
"Okay."
She smiled, leaning forward in her seat again. "Well, as you already know, I'm Tifa. I'm a book publisher and writer. Do you like to write?"
"I guess," he shrugged, hoping that she wouldn't pry further.
Tifa seemed to sense that she wasn't going to get anywhere without asking him direct questions, so she changed her tactics.
"Why don't we start with some basics?" She suggested. "When's your birthday, Sora?"
"A-April twenty-fifth," he mumbled, gripping the underside of his chair tightly.
"What do you like to do? What are some of your favorite hobbies?"
"I...uhh," He shrugged, unwilling to answer to strangers. He wasn't about to give any part of himself away when so much had been taken from him before. But Tifa was relentless in her interogation. Granted, she seemed nice enough and she was actually quite patient with his hesitation and less-than eagerness.
"Do you remember your family well?"
He wavered at this, choking tears welling up in his large eyes. He did remember.
Thick black smoke, billowing throughout the house, stinging his eyes and burning his throat. Piercing screams, cries as he fought against strong arms pinning him down, calling for his mom and dad. Small drips of blood running freely down his raw throat. His shoulder was wrenched in pain and he gasped as his captors' tightened their grip on him.
"I think that's enough for right now," Aerith interjected suddenly, placing a hand on Sora's shoulder and noticing how he jerked his head to her hand, his body going rigid. "Sora,why don't you go on up to your room?"
He nodded, trying to hide his trembling bottom lip, biting it. He nodded his consent and stood up, crossing the office when Tifa reached out and took his hand gently. He glanced down, fear and weariness clouding his eyes. "I'm terribly sorry, dear," she said softly, her thumb stroking his palm soothingly. Worry emanated from her face and some of the fear faded.
How long had it been since someone had shown him such kindness and motherly tendancies? She reached upwards and he nearly flinched but restrained himself as she brushed a single tear falling from his cheek. He gasped sooftly at her tender touch, unable to form a coherent thought.
As he left the room, he heard Aerith pipe in again.
"We have some other children who don't bear such heavy burdens as Sora," she began, her tone low and saddened at Sora's emotional state.
"I think we have chosen," Zexion said, clearing his throat loudly as he looked at the longing glaze in his wife's eyes.
Aerith looked between them again, sighing at determination in their eyes.
"Are you sure you want to follow through with this, Mrs. Masaki?" She asked cautiously.
"Of course," Tifa answered swiftly, sitting upright in her chair once more, ready to continue with business. She ran a manicured hand through her hair.
"I caution you only because of Sora's history with previous foster parents. He's our eldest child here and he's been here the longest. There's a reason behind it," She reminded them again, in a last-ditch effort to make them consider their decision."Families gave up on him, and he's given up on them."
Tifa simply shook her head, silencing the woman. "I guess he just didn't find the right family then."
Zexion placed a hand on her knee, reminding his wife that this was a humane matter, not business and politics. "What Tifa means to say," he started, eyeing her sternly, "is we understand what Sora has been through, but she, we, are confident that this is what we want."
Aerith nodded solemnly. "In that case, there is some paperwork you both will need to fill out." As she rounded her desk, opening metal drawers and removing several manila folders, she added under her breath, "But you don't. You don't understand. You have no idea what he's been through."
As soon as he got out of earshot, Sora ran, scaling the steps two at a time until he burst into the room, and throwing himself into his old mattress, tears flowing freely as he slammed his head underneath his pillow.
It wasn't fair. How could Aerith have let something happen like this? Didn't she tell them that he never lasted long in a new foster home? She probably did the best she could. That family was stubborn, ruthless in their questioning. Why did they want him? How could he possibly fit in with some elite, high-class family? Was it for some charity to boost their reputation in a city?
He didn't even hear anyone come in until he felt a familiar hand gently pat his back.
"Sora, everything's going to be okay," Roxas promised him in a serious tone. That's when he knew it was bad. He was going away. After eight years. He rolled over stiffly on his side, his eyes red with tears. Before he could reacy, Roxas drew him into a tight embrace, one hand ruffling his untidy brown spikes and the other rubbing his back in sotting circles. They had nothing to say to each other. What really could they when you were about to be separated from the one person who dug you out of your deepest hole?
"Everything's going to be okay," Roxas said again, almost as if he was tyring to assure himself more than Sora.
Sora drew away from him, shaking his head and rubbing his swollen eyes. "H-How can you s-say that e-everything is g-going to be okay?" He shuddered, his breathing becoming labored with each word.
Roxas' eyes widenened. "Sora, calm down!" But the brunette was already gone. He was shaking violently and hyperventilating, his head becoming dizzy as he tried to suck in glups of air. "Sora, snap out of it!" Roxas growled, shaking his shoulders roughly.
"I w-won't go...I can't...I-It's n-not fair!" Sora started to hide his head in his hands, but Roxas pinned his arms to his side.
"Sora, calm down," he said softly this time, relieved when Sora visibly relaxed and took longer, deeper breaths. He was lucky this time; Sora hadn't had an anxiety attack in a long while, but when he did have them, it was tricky to get him out of it. It was worse, much worse when he had first met the boy.
"Destiny, kid, destiny. This is a great oppurtunity, Sora. Maybe this is the family you've been waiting for."
Sora looked at him, his eyes focusing and he shook his head, still breathing in a slightly irregular pattern. He wasn't convinced at all, but he wasn't about to say anything to ruin the mood even more. They sat in a contemplative silence for what seemed like a long time. Sora toyed with the wrinkles in the old bedsheet while Roxas twirled around two rings, a black one and a white one, on his fingers.
He couldn't imagine life without Roxas. They were best friends, even more than that. More like brothers. One time being separated from each other had done enough ,
Eventually, Aerith knocked quietly on the door, disrupting their silence. "Sora, hun, you need to start packing your things." She said from behind the door. She didn't want to intrude on Sora and Roxas's space. She knew more than anyone the importance and astuonding effect Roxas had on Sora's miserable life at the orphanage.
Sora sighed heavily, laying his head on his best friend's shoulder, feeling Roxas lean his head down in turn. The blond probed at his fingers for a few more moments before he spoke up.
"Hey, Sora? I want you to have this before you leave," he said quietly, prying the black one from his finger.
Sora immeadiately shook his head. "No," he refused blatantly. Roxas's rings were like his crown pendant; the last memory the blond had left of his family. "No."
"I want you to have it."
He put his hands up to stop Roxas from finishing taking it off his knuckle. "Rox, that was your mom and dad's. I can't take that."
Scowling at Sora's refusal, Roxas pulled Sora's chain from his neck and slipped the ring on so that it fell next to the small crown charm. "This is so you'll always remember me," he said firmly, straightening the chain around Sora's neck before sitting back.
"I wouldn't forget you, doofus," Sora joked weakly.
Roxas slung his arm around his best friend's shoulder.
"Yeah, I know. I'm pretty hard to forget," He said smugly, earning him a shove in the ribs. He winced slightly in pain but the sound of Sora's quite laughter was worth it. "Really though, you're the most important thing to me, Sora. I want you to be happy, even if we're separated, and we don't end up in that big house with our own video games and fridge."
"Roxas, stop," Sora sniffed lightly. "You're going to make me cry again. You're not just going to turn into some memory that fades away."
"Damn, Sora. Who knew you were so...poetic?"
Sora laughed again, wiping the corners of his eyes quickly. His eyes went downcast as he strained to look at the ring now hanging around his neck. It was black and sleek, but it meant more than all the rare-cut diamonds in the world. "Thanks Roxas."
He nodded, standing up to his feet and holding his hand out.
"Come on, I'll help you get your stuff.
In less than an hour, Sora found himself staring dejectedly out the window of the back seat of a large, black Hummer. At his feet was a small plastic bag carrying the few changes of clothes he had, and his toiletries containter sat firmly under his arm. The frayed photo was tucked neatly in the waistband of his shorts. He especially didn't want anything to happen to that and he often touched his side carefully to make sure it was still there.
As he watched the scores of trees fly past the window, he fingered the ring Roxas gave him, sighing inaudibly. Now he had two remnants of a time when he was truly happy. The ving spoke volumes of the strength of their friendship.
Tifa turned in the passenger seat, her brown eyes suddenly soft and inviting. It startled Sora how her facial expressions could so easily change from being strong and proud to being soft and kind. "I'm sure you'll love our home, Sora," She said humbly. "We have a guest bedroom, but I think you might like Vanitas's bedroom better. You can decide of course," She added hastily.
Sora peered over at Zexion in front of him and noticed the man's shoulders tense while his wife was speaking. He gulped, hoping this man already didn't like him. He hadn't even lasted an hour under their watch.
"Vanitas was our son," Tifa continued softly, her face falling ever so slightly. It was strange that this strong, clearly independent woman could look quite so miserable. "He passed away over two years ago," She explained. "His room is still intact."
Sora felt his chest tighten, as two things dawned on him. One, that Tifa was suggesting that he sleep in her deceased son's room, something that made him feel queasy, and the other, that maybe Tifa and hre husband were longingly expecting some kind of reincarnation of their son.
The sinking in his chest grew worse. This was going to be no different than the other families. They all had certain expectations that they wanted out of him, and when he didn't fit their criteria, they blamed him.
The Hummer suddenly took a sharp left and the trees disappeared, replaced by a large, green yard over the length of a football field. Sora's jaw dropped in awe as they pulled up to the front of at least a three-story, monstrous house. It was a Victorian styled home, sporting large white pillars that framed the doorway.
Sora had never seen a house so big, not even on television, which only further added to his fear that this couple, this family, was way out of his league. He tightened his grip around Roxas's ring and brushed his hip for assurance that his photo was there. He had no place here.
As they braked to a full stop and Sora saw a frown etched on Zexion's face.
"The Cadillac's gone."
Tifa sighed, running her hand through her long hair. "He probably just needed to clear his head."
He? Who was "he"? There was too much to think about already and his mind was so jumbled that he decided to just forget whoever "he" was and focus on the more important things, like how in the world he was going to keep from getting lost in such a large estate.
Zexion was the first to get out of the car, walking around the front and to Sora's surprise, opening the door for his wife. He had never seen a single family do that before. They walked back around and Tifa opened the door for him. "Come on," She encouraged brightly.
He nervously undid his seatbelt and grasped his few belongings, hobbling out of the car. "I can grab your stuff for you, Sora," Tifa offered, already leaning down to take his container. He nodded dumbly, unsure of what else he should do. His eyes washed over the front of the house, which seemed twice as large as they neared the front door.
"Come on, Sora," She ushered him gently towards the glossy door where Zexion was, fumbling with a set of shiny keys. "Let's go ahead and show you inside."
Riku glanced wearily at the time on his radio as he pulled slowly into their driveway, noting it was nearly nine at night. He had been gone for more than just a few hours, more like the entire day, and had he not ran out of gas, he probably wouldn't have been back yet.
He left Cloud's after lunch, annoyed at the blond's obvious attempts to keep his mind off of his parent's sudden interest. There was only so much coddling he could take from his friends before it drove him past the brink of sanity, which he wavered near even now. After leaving, he drove around the town for a while, making a stop by his only other good friend, Kairi's workplace to vent some more. And still, nothing seemed to quell his anger.
He parked quickly, noticing that the Hummer was back. So they're home. He scoffed bitterly to himself. He didn't feel much like dealing with his parents right now. His excessive car ride may have calmed him enough to come home and allow him to gain some control over his emotions, but he was still undeniably furious with them. Grumbling, he parked and shoved the keys into his pocket before stalking inside.
He moodily climbed the stairs, hoping he would be able to avoid his parents and just stay shut up in his room for the rest of the night. So far so good. He was crossing a large carpeted hallway when he passed his little brother's abandoned room. The door was slightly open and a small source of light crept underneath the door.
Riku raised an eyebrow suspiciously, his heart siezing his blood running cold. Vanitas's door had been shut tight since the boy's funeral two years ago. Guardedly, he peered into the room, his icy eyes going wide and his heart pounding in his ears.
A familiar spiky head stood, framed against the dim lamp casting shadows across the room. Riku's breath caught in his throat. He was tinier than he remembered. Wait a minute though. He was seeing things. Vanitas was dead. He had been dead for a while now.
He couldn't help himself. A tiny flutter of hope shot through his heart. "Vanitas?"
The shadowed figure jumped in fright at his deep voice and he turned. Riku saw large, unfamiliar cerulean blue eyes widen in spurprise. What the hell? He reached around and flicked on the second set of lights, illuminating the room.
"Who the fuck are you?" He demanded loudly, causing the boy to cower backwards. "I said who are you?" He said again, glaring fiercly at the boy, making him flinch. The brunette opened and closed his mouth several times, but nothing but a small gasp ever came out.
"What's the matter with you?" Riku continued scolding him. "Mute? Cat got your tongue?"
Sora shook his head nervously, shrinking even more as the silver-haired teen opened the door all the way and stepped into the room.
The boy's, who Tifa and Zexion had deemed Zexion, was as large as the room Sora had shared with seven other kids. The walls were painted a dark crimson, a full-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room with heavy black covers. The room largely reminded Sora of Legos. Everything in the room was either blue, green, or red: the shelves, stuffed with old action figures, model cars, old photos, and trophies, the desk, strewn with binders and papers.
There was a television hanging from the wall across the bed and below it were various game systems, the controllers all pulled out. Tifa wasn't exaggerating when she said that they had left the room completely untouched since the death of their son.
The boy before him crossed his arms, looking as tall and elegant as his mother, silver hair like his dad's that splayed around his face, very pale features, but his eyes were cruel and daunting.
"Who are you?" He asked again, his words dripping with venom as he took a step closer, his fists clenched and shaking. Sora gulped, dropping his belongings as he fearfully backed away again.
Suddenly, a voice rang out and Sora sighed heavily. "Riku? Ahh, there you are," Tifa said, entering the tense room. Sora looked between them, momentarily confused before realization hit him again, full force. That was the "he" Tifa and Zexion were talking about. "I see you've already met Sora. Riku, this is your new foster brother."
If possible, Riku'e enraged glare strengthened and his lips formed in a brutal snarl. "Sora, this is our son, Riku." She placed a careful hand on the teen's shoulder and Sora half-expected him to slap her hand away. "Dinner will be ready in forty-five minutes," She said sternly, narrowing her eyes at her son. It was as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, because not a second later, he turned on his heel, throwing one last disgusted look at Sora before storming out of the room and down the hall, cursing loud enough so that Sora could hear.
Sora realized his heart was jumping erratically and he forced himself to take deep breaths. The last thing he needed was to start hyperventilating in front of his new foster parents. That would go over well. Tifa walked over towards him and stooped over and picked up the bag he dropped on the floor.
"You can make yourself at home, Sora," She said, masking her shaking voice. She compulsively straightened the covers of Vanitas's bed and looked over where Sora was still frozen in place. "Sora, are you okay?" She asked gently, kneeling down to his level. He nodded, still not trusting to speak as he looked into her concerned, brown eyes.
"Have you ever owned your own room?"
He shook his head and managed, "Not one this big."
Tifa smiled at his answer, stroking his messy bangs out of his eyes. "When you get settled in, you can come on down to the kitchen," She said as she stood up.
"Umm, can I go now?" He asked shyly, following her when she nodded her head. He didn't feel like getting lost trying to find the kitchen, and he definitely didn't want another hostile run-in with Riku again. He considered himself lucky that Tifa showed up when she did.
As he mirrored Tifa's steps down a huge staircase, he grimly thought to himself. A new record, Sora. Great. Your new family already pines hatred over you and you haven't even lasted a night here. Great. Thanks a lot, Roxas, he muttered, So much for this maybe being the right family.
I finally managed to completely rewrite Chapter 2. I know nothing really has changed much, but more will come soon. I'm going to be adding much more dialogue between characters and more situations with Riku and Cloud and later, Riku and Kairi. Once again, I am revising everything because I want it to be more realistic and less predictable, so I hope you like the changes.
One last note, I know that there are many spelling errors and grammar errors. For some reason, when I tried to spellcheck, I wasn't able to, so please mind the errors.
-xcontagiousx