The second chapter. Unlike most of my other stories, I write these in a journal first, then copy it from there to here. This is a planned four chapter story, but in the middle of the third chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts. I do own the idea behind this story, as in how the group reincarnated.
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Summer meant more freedom. She graduated her supposed junior year (thought she really was behind and only had enough credits to be a sophomore) and started to think about her senior year. Actually, college skimmed her mind more then anything. She felt panicked at every advertisement sent to her house.
Her sister knew what she wanted to do. Well, not a specific occupation. But what the other girl wished to do included drawing picture, or dinging clothes, drafting, making posters, organizing something; anything that used colors and hands and eyes for a rough draft.
She once thought she had plenty of time to think about what she needed to decide to do with her life. She doubted being a professional ball would be her choice. She liked playing, but never wanted a career. Plus even now, she only hit past the five foot two inches mark. Then again, she could not think of anything else to do.
Maybe she could follow her father and become a chemical engineer or even become a teacher, like her mother. Both options made her frown.
"Do like what all kids do; get a Fine Arts Degree and decide after that." Mr. Brain's sagely advice did not help her, either. She made no comment about the degree. Not because she did not find it a sound or an unsound plan, she just felt nothing needed to be said.
Since summer, she told her family was looking for a summer job and landed one quickly. Only her sister knew where she went and whom she visited.
She invited her sibling once, but her lovely other explained to her it was not her place, that she never was a long part of it. Though the twin never minded anyone else knowing who she was and that she was about; Brain, if he dropped her of, would wave to the shy twin and the shy twin would wave back. The good doctor asked if she would visit but after the message was replied back with a no, he nodded in understanding. Danru gave goodies and other incentives to have both girls at one of his performances since the slightly younger girl wanted to see what a real sitar looked like. She told him she would think about.
Her first and current occupation did not seem like a future for her, either. It could be said she worked at the gun shop. She cleaned the weapons and cases, organized rounds, and looked at various other little purchases that could be found in a gun shop. Some of the weapons were difficult to use. When he first asked her to help around the shop, she felt nervous but played as if it was natural for her to carry a gun like a third arm. He probably saw through it, but made no comments.
The next day, he took her behind his shop and taught her how to hold and load a small handgun "properly."
Two or three days a week, she would clean guns for about four hours. She once asked if he made a lot of money do this. He smiled and said if he wanted to make money, he would be selling guns illegally.
She also spent one day a week at least at the bar. They never had a set meeting date, so half the time she would sit alone for an hour before leaving. He probably did the same. She hoped. She wanted to think he did. Because she did.
They would talk quietly, mostly her talking about normal life and things she heard on the news. She never mentioned the gun shop owner, she never meant her sister. He equally never talked about the guitarist at the coffee shop or his eccentric uncle. They never brought it up.
But she wanted to.
It felt like her life was split in two: Her home life, centered around school and the ball while the new one she developed after running away to a gun store and now hung around a crowed on grown-ups. Ironically, it was the older one.
Yet with this tall stranger, who should never be so much of a stranger, it was suppose to be different. Between them, she wanted it to be different. No, not really her…but him.
It was not if her dreams self and her real self were different. She was he. Maybe not even fully that. Before, when it was her and her sister dealing with these visions, she could acknowledge them but not believe herself to be him to a fault. When she found out there were others, the others before, they may not wish to talk about it but she could tolerate the idea it could be real. She also could tolerate them.
She knew what he was. And she was positive he knew what she was. She wanted him to say something about it. She wanted him to tell her she was not the only one of the two of them who knew it. Not for her sake…
But for what he did and what he did for him.
Her stomach growled. She ate before bed last night, so she decided to skip breakfast in the morning. But now she needed to eat. She sighed and reached for her pocket.
A poke on her shoulder and she looked over. Her friend chuckled, smirked, and shook his head. "The food here is crap. Come on, I'll buy you a real meal."
She shrugged and tucked her allowance away. They left the familiar bar with her trailing after him or to the side of him. She asked where he was going. He shrugged and said it was a few blocks away and the kid needed to be patient. She never argued about any "pet names" she was called, because it was the closest thing she could get to familiarity. She asked where he worked, if he worked besides hustling pool Friday nights. He laughed and said he worked night as a stocker for a mom and pop Italian store, sometimes cooking in the pizza room. He asked where she got her bit of change. She licked her lips and said allowance for this and that. She received sixteen dollars a week. He asked why sixteen dollars. She said it was because her father saw a news report, which said allowance was good for money management training, and should be paid by age. He mumbled about how his mama didn't believe in allowances around a light cigarette. She despised that he smoked and gave her second hand smoke, yet it belonged to his character, which made her hate it more. Even if she could give the excuse of the smoke bugging her, what could she say out here? No, she chose to look away and roll her eyes.
That was when she noticed the man. The dirty man. She never saw a homeless person as she knew them in real life, but she figured he must be homeless. Even on such a hot day, this man wore a jacket and a hat. But then he took off his hat and started turning to the two of them.
His face…it reminded her of a picture of Vlad the Impaler. Not Dracula from the movies and book, but the real man with a thick mustache and a boney chin and dark, oily hair that was back in a ponytail. Her teacher stressed the issue as well as stressed that the supposed "weaknesses" of vampires came from an actual blood order that had nothing to do with ungodliness, but a missing enzyme.
He did not scare her, as he looked rather non-threatening. Plus he clearly hid a booze bottle in a bag and the dark, dirty patches if fifth clashed against otherwise pale skin.
She paused in her step and touched her friend into stop talking about this crap movie he saw on the other night. He did not appreciate being cut off, she knew this. But she pointed ahead. He glared in annoyance, and then saw the man and she saw his cigarette nearly fall out of his mouth. He rolled his stick in his mouth and glared. "Dammit." He said clearly around his tobacco and slid his arm flat around her shoulder. She tensed, but did not fight it. He was not stopping her or grabbing her hard, just guiding her away.
"Hey Dud!"
His breath hissed but dragged them down the road a little faster. She wondered if "Dud" was a nickname and if they were going to start running. The old man, on the other hand, had no problems going into a jog. He eventually got ahead of them and kept perfect miming with his backward steps with their forward steps. "Dud" finally stopped and refused to let go of her. Then he pulled her back slightly; she had to take a step back and he took a step forward. It was just subtle, but there. "What do you want?" He barked harshly.
The man smiled, showing he had all this teeth, though a thin line of plaque hung to the gums. "Can't a man talk to his cousin?"
"You ain't my cousin."
"Ah, don't be like this. I consider you and your whole family my cousin. I love my baby girl's family."
"What do you want?" Her gaze switched between the two. She did not know if she should understand any of this. Or if she should be here.
"Oh, just a little bit of this and that, this and that." He waved the bottle around, grinning and kept the words in an almost song-like quality.
It only made the younger male madder. "I'm not givin' you no mo' money." He took a deep breath. "Does Abrina know you drunk again?"
"Oh, let's not worry the poor child. My girl has enough on her shoulders to worry abut her old man." Soon he grinned again and reached into his pocket. "Besides, I'm not asking you to simply give me the money. We can…for it. You like to gamble, don't you?" The words would have been smooth as silk if the voice did not sound like a husk.
"No." The boy's face-hardened even more.
Those dark eyes settled on her instead. He grinned at her. "Well, how about this lovely here? Wish to test your luck, dear?"
This was when she realized that she was meeting Luxord. The shock of this made her mouth fall slightly, but no sound came out. She had no idea if her friend figured it out that she knew or just found him offensive, but when the cards came out, "Dud" bated them away. They scattered all over the sidewalk and the road. The older man was the one offended now. "Dammit. Damn you!" He bent down, playing 52 pick-up. His bottle and bag clattered away and rolled, spilling some of the content. "Dammit, you spill it." He stopped picking up the cards and grabbed for his bottle. With it in his grasp, he simply plopped down on the ground. "I think I need a drink." He mumbled quietly and took a sip, then started to pick up the cards around him. She could only watch, not sure if she should do something or not.
"You got a cell phone?" She turned and looked at her dark-skin companion.
"Um…yah." Without questioning him, she gave hers up.
"Thanks." He opened it, then turned to the self proclaimed cousin. "Watch him and make sure he doesn't die or something equally stupid." He walked a distance away.
She had not idea what to do, so she just watched him. The man was reduced to mumbling, picking a card up, looking at it intently, mumbling more, putting the card in a small pile he already made, shuffling it, more mumbled, taking a swig of what he had in the bag, and repeating the process. Even though it was a pattern, none of it was orderly.
She occasionally looked back at the keeper of her borrowed cell phone. He made large hand motions here and there, but soon he closed the phone. She turned back to her charge. The man continued his actions. Slowly but surely, he gathered up the rest of his cards, or at least the ones near him. He appeared to decide if it required a certain amount of effort to grab the next card.
After he gathered up all the cards near him, he kept shuffling them repeatedly. She had not idea if she should do more or less. She was not use to watching a grown-up.
"Dud doesn't date white girls." The obscurity of the statement paused her more then the shock of him speaking again. She looked at him, instead of just looking where he was. The words still spilled out in partly mumbles, "Probably because h doesn't want to disappoint his mama." He stopped scuffling and gave her an once-over. "I doubt you are even out of high school. You play with him or something'? Probably good in an old-bait-and-switch thing. Why aren't you in school?" She did not know him well and already found him annoying and embarrassing. Yet, she saw he bore a grin while he spoke and could picture that shag of hair replaced with a blond buzz-cut. She pondered if his dark eyes were not glazed over, would they be as clear as blue eyes from before?
Later she would wonder if she looked like someone else for a moment when she glared at him because he said almost too-clearly, "Aren't you a boy?" The voice, laced with a glee in it, as if it was a joke. "No…but maybe?" He gave her a once over, then centered on her face. "No, but you are young. Might be the right age…" He took a careful swig. "When you sleep, do you have interesting nightmares?"
She was pulled back a bit and stared into hazel eyes.
"Stand at the corner." The younger man did not push her; more like twirled her to the direction she needed to be. Or maybe he just circled around her; she was not sure. Either way, she did not wish to be brought in the middle of whatever was going on with them.
She walked to the corner, ignoring the quiet yells and slurs behind her. Oh, she was curious and had some questions, but knew what happened had nothing to do with yellow-eyed monster discovered in the depths of unconsciousness.
She sighed as she leaned against a post, occasionally looking back every now and then. Sometimes they were speaking, sometimes not. She wondered how close they were related. The drunkard said they were cousins, but Dud as he appeared to be called, said they were not.
She wanted to know, but did not want to be part of the discord.
She looked at her phone and scrolled down to find the number he called. The area code was of a nearby area. She quickly saved the number under the letter "A." She looked back at saw her friend just glaring at the fallen man.
She must have daydreamed, because she did not see the beat-up car dive on past her. She only saw it pull up to the side. The older boy already walked over to it.
Out stepped a girl, no, a woman. No…a young woman, probably around his age. She started to walk closer to him, and then she stepped around him to the older fellow. If her friend had any annoyance at the situation, she did not pay attention: Her eyes were on the other female. The girl-woman looked down at the man and Rosaline knew this fact: This was his daughter. Their manes were identical: Thick, long, dark, with waves. Only the girl's hair loot neater and cleaner. The woman shook her head and told "Dud" to put thefather in the car. He nodded and came over to grab the drunk. The lady ran over back to the car and opened the back door. Even though he was older, it took little effort for the younger man to toss the older man in the car. The door would have closed, but suddenly the old father shouted, "My cards, my cards!"
"Screw the damn cards." Her hustler hissed. But the girl paused and looked around. A bite of her lip, then she jogged over the distance. She knelt down and started to gather up the stray deck.
She did not know why, but seeing the act and seeing the lack of help, she received shook something in her. The man in the car just called for the cards and though he asked the kneeling girl to stop, the twenty-something male made no move to help.
Therefore, she did.
There was no wind today and hardly anyone else riding a car down the street. In fact, hardly anyone walked down the block. Those who did ignored them or crossed over to the other side of the street. She knelt down close to the woman-child. She noticed that the other was very beautiful: Her skin was flawless, dark, and colored with a near burnt-red tone to it; her cheeks were high, yet round, looking to be jolly forever. Her wide mouth pulled tight, wrapped around one side to the other. Her full, pouty lips were slightly stained with some sort of gloss and her nose was wide with a gentle, sphere horizon and a gentle slope vertically. She wondered where the notion of beauty came from a tiny, point, sheer-drop nose.
"Let me help you." She said, gathering up some other cards. There eyes met and she saw a familiar hazel.
But something else passed between them. Not like the feel between this woman's male family members. No, this was an understanding between daughters. She saw the embarrassment and sadness and she felt the grateful for her own father; he never put strain on her like this. But she understood that maybe he was not perfect, but the woman still loved him and he maybe he had his moments or maybe he was better when she was child and on how she wanted him back like that.
"Thank you." The voice came out strong with a sweet pitch to it.
It did not take long to finish finding the card. She knew there were supposed to be fifty-two cards, but she never counted. Her hands brushed against the other girl's hand when she returned the cards. She received a smiled. She hoped she gave an identical smile back.
The girl stood up, turned around, and walked to the car, then held out the cards to the man. He took the cards, smiled with glee, then gratitude and said, "That's my girl. 'His girl' moved to the front of her car. She glanced at her cousin (brother, family?) with a broken expression before climbing into the driver's side.
She watched the car pull away before she looked at her companion. His expression held sadness and anger. It looked too familiar. She felt some of that anger suddenly. "Who was that?" She asked.
"My cousin and her father." She already figured it out, but he confirmed; they are related, but not like Randu and the doctor. Their connection was through that one girl. "Bastard." It was clearly for the man. Some how she felt rage with that statement.
"You called your cousin a daughter of a bastard." It was a terrible line. She knew that. It was weak bait, but she wanted to.
"Fuck him. Nasty-ass drunk, putting her through every kind of crap." He mumbled and finished the cigarette. He dropped it down and stomped it out. "She has to support his ass."
She wanted to get him boiling. "She doesn't have to. She just wants to be a good child. It's her choice"
His dark skin flared. She never saw such a color on lighter skin. It almost intrigued her. She kept the smile back because even though she wanted to set him off, she did not want his anger at her quite yet. "She doesn't!" He let the words loose, "She knows better! Dammit, if she knew what he…" But he ended the words there. The thoughts he had probably related to a family issue, but they might not.
This was the issue she wanted to hit. She knew this could bring a downfall to whatever they established, but she felt such anger… "It's X, isn't it?" He visibly flinched and she watched him cool rapidly. It felt good. He turned his head away from her. "Admit it." She called quietly.
He took a deep breath, "Dammit, what do you want from me?" He asked, almost in pain. But she wanted to cause a little pain. No, she wanted to cause a lot of pain. Just cause something to change.
She answered, "I want you to admit it. That you saw and experience something."
His face took on an ugly look. His lips pulled tight. His eyes narrowed. His nose flared.
She loved it.
Then it appeared everything dropped. His head lolled down and his hands slid in his pocket. She though he gave up. He never gave up, though. That made her feel betrayed.
"Just say it." She was not sure what she wanted him to say, but just some way to know he had his own set of dreams. Just so she could finally know.
But he took a few circular steps away, but not actually leaving, just avoid. She felt desperate to say something.
"Axel."
He paused mid stride and she realized she screw up. She broke some sort of taboo. He finally looked at her. No longer did she see him. No, in that moment she saw lighter skin, a sharp nose, so much thinner, hair spread out as a mane of real flames down his head and back, and eyes a perfect green. She also knew if she could see through his pupils, she would not see herself. No, she would see a boy just a little younger then her, dark-blonde hair that was spiny and curly all at once, with large eyes colored like the sky. She was not ready for it, because everything stopped.
Then she turned around abruptly. She had to get away. Each of her steps were shaky. She just thought of the obscurity of it all. They were just dreams. What right did she have to force him to acknowledge it? It did not mean anything. It should not mean anything.
She did not run so fast, but she was breathing erratically. She could not get enough air in her lungs. She felt cold. She should feel warm, but it was too chilly.
Something stopped her from moving. She did not fight it, but she tried to will her feet to move more. She looked down, wondering why.
The same moment she saw the dark arms wrapped all around her body, she heard a whisper in her hair, "I'm sorry, Roxas."
No, she was not Roxas. She just had been. It made sense at that moment. She already knew who he was when he spotted her, even if it was for a moment. Not like the other four. Her sister she understood why she never pinpointed it; those memories had not restored enough to realize the connection or hidden under a lifetime of familiarity. The others she needed that clue or a little direction to. She remembered him playing the first day.
She still had to take several breaths, but her logic was working. She had a panic attack. Okay. She was okay. Even if she fainted, she had faith in the arms around her. She felt some sort of weird glee; she felt his heartbeat pounding into her back. It felt good.
She licked her lips and said still winded, "It's Rosaline now."
She felt the chuckle and knew it was fine now. He let go of her and she turned to look up at him. She suddenly hated the fact he was still much taller then her. But only humors. It still did not matter, just a nice annoyance.
"Alright. I'm Daniel. Just…don't call me Dud."
---
She was surprised when her sister asked her to take her to see Danru. She asked why, but a smile and shrug was the answer she received.
As she expected, he greeted both girls with enthusiasm. It was before the house gig. She was surprised when she saw Minerva keep him close, then whisper something in his ear. He nodded, held up a pause finger to her when Rosaline wanted to ask about their private conversation, and the two left her alone.
She felt out of place. Coffee places were not her thing. Actually, this was more of her sister's thing. The girl might like this more.
Her twin came out five minutes later. They hugged and she was informed they would be staying for the rest of the night.
They both waved after the show ended and when he asked if they needed a lift home, they both declined. She did not opposed to another hug good-bye, but felt uncomfortable. When it was her sister's turn, the strawberry blond seemed amused and returned it without problem.
On the way back, she asked what her other wanted.
The longer-haired girl smiled an almost sad smile and said, "Just something personal. I only received half of what I wanted, though."
---
She was getting better a pool. She already had steady hands and always good at math.
Daniel smirked. "Me and you are gonna hustle."
"What?" Rosaline paused from her shot.
"Yah." He perched himself on the table, "People are getting' use to me. But a l'il shorty like you? Ah, them fouls are gonna bet high."
"No." She stated with a grin and made her shot. The ten ball in a side pocket, as she predicted.
"I'd share 50/50." He offered. She simply smiled. "60/40?" She started to laugh. "70/30?"
"I think you forget; I'm not even eighteen." She stood back up, leaned on her stick, and looked straight at him.
"Ah, yah-yah. It didn't matter before, though." She was pleased that he no longer hesitant to make reference to it so much.
But neither was she, "You also used wheel spokes. That didn't matter either." She grinned as she took a bench, already deciding she was done for now. It was not particularly funny of a comment, but it would get something rolling.
The man spurred, but already got back on the horse, "Don't get me started on retarded-looking weapons." He mumbled to himself a few choice words and decided to take over her game. "So, you gonna come play or what?"
"I'm still not legal, remember?" She really was not interested. Gambling was something she wished to not invest any time of her life.
He gathered up all the balls again, set them right, and broke the whole lot of them, smirking when one fell in. "Yah…" He paused and looked at her, only briefly licking his lips. "You still in school?"
"Yah."
"Alright, let's break." He joined her over her table by the window. It use to be just her seat, but now it was their seats. They already had some beverages set. Once he was seated, she took a sip. She figured he wanted to talk first.
"You got plans after school?" He asked.
"You mean, what do I do after school or what I plan to do after I graduate?"
He looked a little surprised, then smirked, "Both."
"Well, I play basket ball after school-"
"Your midget-self?" He chuckled as he interrupted her.
It only mildly annoyed her. She continued, satisfied with the kick she gave him under the table, "And I plan to go to a university after graduating." She was starting to understand him a little. He would not give out anything unless she asked. And if he wished to share something, he would ask her about the subject first, just to see if she would ask him back. It was fine with her. At least he hardly ever changed the subject as he did a couple weeks ago. "Did you go to college?"
"Couldn't. Well, coulda, but, I suppose. Money wasn't the problem. Probably coulda got a loan or something.' But Mama needed help with the bills. And I was the man of the house. The man of the house gets a job." He turned away and shrugged, looking out the window.
She paused, before asking, "Did you graduate?"
"Yep, 'least I did that."
"Means you can go to a school later." She felt a sense of relief. She did not want to hold anything over him or brag. "Maybe save up enough money without needing loans."
"Let me guess. You gots some scholarships." He remarked.
He did not sound bitter, "Some. I have one from middle school for being..." She was about to say her title, but decided "Little Torian" sounded rather childish, "Top of my class."
He laughed, "Well, aren't you a good girl. You aim for top this time?"
"No."
"Why not?" He voiced read only slight interest, but she could almost see a little cover in his stance, ready to lean over if she needed a touch.
She concentrated on her glass, "I…" She did not know quiet how to word it. She chose the easier way, "My dreams started in freshman year."
"Ah…" The man crossed his arms behind his head. "Guess it wasn't an issue for me. Mine started in the senior year. Already was just skatin' by."
They paused.
She hated the paused that followed sometimes. It was much easier, but still hard. Still should not be this hard. It only lasted a few moments, with everyone else. The pause eventually filled. But with him, it could last for the rest of the time. She had to fill it. "You said…you had to work because you were the man of the house?"
"Yah…" He pondered. Before she could say anything else, he asked, "You get both a mom and a dad?"
"Yes."
"I only had my Mama."
She stared, feeling a little embarrassed.
He already grinned at her and waved his hands, "Nah, don't say anything stupid. She's a good Mama. Kept my sorry ass straight." He took a sip of beer. "Nah, from what I know of my old man, he was a dead-beat. He was out before I was born. She…she got remarried when I was 'bout seventeen. Mac was great; he treated me a'right. Didn't try to make me his son. Had a little sister. Margerie. Which is the worst name to name anything." He took another sip. "He died when she was 'bout a year old." This was the first time he looked honestly sad without the fear or anger. She had the urge to grab his hand or something. But it was not her place.
She went with her curiosity. "I didn't know you had a sister."
"Yah, she's a doll." He folded his arms with a little smile. "It's kinda fun. I just hate watchin' her in public. Everyone thinks I'm the baby daddy." He glanced over at her, all gloom gone. "You got any?"
"I have." Even though it was two words, she still stumbled over them. She never talked about her sister, not to him at least. "A…sister." She thought on how to say it without being blunt. She felt a little scared, as if she stated too directly, the secret could get out. Her sister was a private person. "My twin sister." He made an approval noise, but she went on, "She's an artist. Like…she's always been one."
"Some people are lucky like that." He commented with lightness as he took a sip.
"No…I mean." She leaned over the table and stared hard at him. "I mean…she was an artist. Even back then." She kept her gaze on him.
It took him all ten seconds to figure the riddle. His eyes opened a little wide. "Oh." Then he snorted. "Ooooh…" He slapped his leg, "Oh, of course."
She smiled and reached into her pocket. "Oh here." She pulled out her wallet. She got up and walked nest to him. She set the wallet down and opened to the center. She set a hand against his back to brace herself on her toes and used her free hand to point over to each face, "That's Minnie," The picture was taken on their last birthday, also the same time she receive the wallet.
"She don't look like you."
She smirked rudely and slapped his back a little. "We're fraternal, not identical." He made a swipe for her, but she move so it only ruffled her hair a little. "Everyone always says that."
"That's 'cause fraternal twins didn't start out-" He paused and started at the picture. His lips pouched out. "You always ware a headband."
Instantly, she reached up for the one on her head. It was simply yellow, with rhinestones decorated by her sister with one of those jewelry kits. She frowned at him, "What does that mean?"
"You got a reason for it?"
She crossed her arms. "Keeps the sweat and hair out of my eyes." She answered matter-of-factually.
He smirked, "Oh yah, you be sporty with them sparkles, huh?" He chuckled and reached for a cigarette. "C'mon, what's the real reason?"
She took a breath before looking around. She wore a headband near everyday, so it should not be an unusual question. Still felt like it. "I ware them because it useful and it is masculine and feminine all at once." She grinned.
He started at her for a moment, before out-right laughing.
"Shut up." She called with another hit, but she started chuckling.
"Good think I didn't light up let, or I'd be chocking on it." She pushed him a little, giggling while he pulled out a lighter to ignite the white stick. He stared at the picture again.
She suddenly got an idea and regretted it. She bit her lip, but still asked, "If you met your dad, what would you do?"
He blinked and stared at her. She thought she went too for, but there was no rage in his eyes. And even though they were hard, they were not directed at her. He licked his lips, moving the stick around his mouth. "Mmmmm…don't know. But I know what I would if I found out where he was."
"What?"
"I'd arson his cars." He finally lit the cigarette and took a big puff. She did not have much of a reply. She watched the little ashes turn rosy red. "I don't know why. It's like…a car is very important, but you don't hurt anyone badly with, but it screws with them. And it's not like destroying a house or something." Another big intake. "If I said me and two other guys burned a car in high school, what would you think?"
She shrugged, and then smiled. "I'd say something. Not sure what. But I wouldn't be surprised."
The man smirked. "What if I told you it was my assistant principle?"
"I'm thinking I would ask what did you do to get in trouble?"
Then he laughed again, quickly grabbing his burning paper and plant away from his mouth and coughed a little. "Ain't that the truth?"
They probably looked strange together: By age, by lifestyle, but other things. However, she hadn't felt this good in her own skin since this madness started.
---
She wondered how the secretary at school would look when she filled out the working permit when school started. Mr. Brian already agreed to let her work whenever when her (hopefully) last year of education began. She received more then she should for what she did. Her mother said she could keep working, but hoped it would not cut into her schoolwork. She told her mother she worked at a desk job and would sit down most of the time, with some time on breaks to work on her homework.
She did not lie; she ran the desk and answering the phone at the shop. Brian told her he was not quiet confidence with her handling anything that shot a bullet quiet yet.
It would technically be her junior year, but she may be able to graduate this year.
It was not quite as important as it had been
---
She finished her first course of driver's training. Now she needed to get whatever hours in. She really tried to get along with her father while driving, but she would get nervous, then she would get distracted and there would be yelling. It was nerve wrecking and uncomfortable.
It was weird to see Daniel pull up in a larger Cadillac. She never saw him drive, but figured he did. She wondered if he borrowed it. Though how she phrased it was, "You steal this car?"
He stepped out, slamming the door and smirking back while flipping her off. "No, this is actually mine." He waved at the vehicle. "It's not new, but only a couple of years old. Someone's parent got too old and too drunk to drive and they had five cars already and weren't gonna pay for another one on their lawn."
"So," Rosaline looked over the metal box with wheels, "Where are we going in it." She purposely said in feign excitement. She made sure to keep her expression flat after finishing.
He leaned against his car, grinning like a madman, "We're gonna teach yah how tah drive, girlie."
---
She remembered a few times her mother took her to feed deer. It was at a farm. It was fun watching them eat and fun just plain watching them. Her mother explained that a deer was like cow when it ate; it's teeth, which were all flat, chewed and grinded the food up instead of tearing like the sharp teeth in some other animal's mouth.
The whole day she kept looking at her canines.
They were somewhere else. She did not recognize the farmland around. Not that it mattered if they were back in that place with the deer, when the woman and children went there some years ago the deer were all gone.
This place was still a pleasant place to look; acres and acres of farm fields, little farmhouses scattered distances away, and a flat road without a car in sight. Small groves appeared, with a few sights of animals peeking out.
"Alright, get out, and take the wheel." He mumbled and already unclipped his belt. She followed suit. He got out of the car and walked in front while she simply climbed over the seat.
As soon as he hoped in, she frowned. "It's too far."
"That's because your legs are too short." She might have been more upset with him for yet another small comment, but he was smiling and already showed her where the gear level was.
It was not as stressful as with her father. The older boy never yelled at her, he was clam and did not criticize too badly. Most of the hot comments from how many times she ran off the road. Yet after every mistake she made, he simply bore a grin and encouraged her to try again. He did joke about hitting a deer or rabbit, but he quickly took it back with a little laughter. It felt like driving a boat. She made a point of telling him that five times. He just laughed and commented about her size.
After burning about a fourth of the gas, he condemned her to be fit for normal roads. She told him she wanted to stay outside a bit.
He sat on the trunk of the car, smoking while she stared up at the sky from the grass, thinking. No, not thinking. More like daydreaming, but her mind was blank. She did not even notice until Daniel snapped his fingers. "Hey." She turned to look up at him. He pointed over somewhere and she followed his fingers. She stared at her left at some horses, just left out. She smiled.
"Done with your break?" He asked, hopping off the car and dropped the butt of his cigarette. She stood up, slightly unbalanced. He paused from getting into the car for a moment. "Why…do you jingle?"
She did not quite understand, until she took a step. She was so use to the sound always with her. She never noticed it anymore since it was as common for her as breathing. Nevertheless, she saw the collection of metal and plastic and color hooked to her belt loop. She stared for a moment. "Key chains." She commented quietly, touching a few. Each one unique; some were generic, some were homemade, some looked more like fridge magnets. The scare she felt when her dreams happened was not as strong as it once had been, but it was comforting to her even now just to be able to grasp them.
"You collect them." He remarked casually and looked back at the horses. "My sister likes them glass dolls. My aunt likes those little bears…" He finally looked backed at her and noticed her just still just at the small pieces. He asked, "You alright?"
"Yah." A part of her wanted to say it was not. A part of her wanted to say the reason, but she did not want to bring it up. "I'm ready to go." She climbed back into the driver's seat; it did not feel as fun anymore.
"What did I do?" He asked as soon as he dropped in his seat. She looked at him with puzzlement at his angry tone.
"What do you mean?" She asked, not sure if she should be annoyed with him.
"Every time you get sad or some shit, you like…shut down. Act like a zombie or somethin,'" He slapped his dash-board, "Like your dog died."
She did not know if she should say why. She was not a coward. At least, she did not think so. But maybe she was. She thought about not answering. Just leave it alone and it would evaporate. It worked a lot of the time. Then they did not have to admit they might not be quite right. "I'm sitting in a damn car with a man who I met at a bar that if I saw him on the street in the middle of the side walk, my mother would tell me to cross to the other side," She almost grumbled her words, but she kept them steady while gripping the steering wheel, "And yet, here I am, driving his car for practice." She turned to look out the window, "You didn't do anything. Just…" And that was where she ended it, how she ended it. Because there were no words, she could use to begin to describe what was happening. She put the keys in the ignition, then some words did hit, and they were a good start, "I'm not afraid. I really should be. But I'm not."
The car went dead silent. She started the car and started to drive. But she heard the slight mutter, "You think you should be afraid?"
She let herself chance a look at him, then looked quickly away, only partially out of road safely. He was grinning like a smart-ass, but his eyes looked ready to spill. Probably would not, but the threat of it alone made her have to reply, "No!" She shouted out too loudly for the inside of the car, "I mean, I'm not afraid of you. At all. I wouldn't be, either."
"Yah, I know," He mumbled, still grinning. But when she looked back for a moment, he grinned with his eyes, too.
The silence came back, but when she felt safe. Rosaline looked over her key chains. She must have over thirty by now, nearer to forty. She changed them and exchanged them for better ones. She had a little draw full of them at home. The first ones she bought were cheap ones she bought at gas stations or the supper market. Then she sought after more ones that are unusual. Her sister made her one for their last birthday. He parents thought it was for the future car she wanted. The only ones she never liked were the ones with her name on it, like 'Rosy' or 'Rose.' Because those were wrong.
"I…use tah…sneak off with my aunt's lighter," He mumbled as she heard him move around in the seat next to her. She kept looking straight since she spotted a few cars coming down. The farms were receding, "And match books. But all boys are pyros when they young. That's what Gramine said. Wasin'til high school I figured out maybe there was more to it," As if to prove a point, he lit his lighter, "You jingle for the same reason."
She did not reply quickly, but after taking a big gulp she asked, "Are you afraid it might happen again?"
He stopped the flames. "I don't know. Guess it won't matter much. Though careful of that cow in the road."
"What?" She quickly made to swerve, but she saw there was no cow. "What the hell?" And he started laughing and laughing and laughing. She felt irate and pissed, "Don't scar me like that, you ass! God Dammit!"
Through tears cause by cackles, he supplied, "Gotta keep you on your toes, shorty." Then she laughed a little, yet slapped him on principle. Not too hard, since she felt better.
---
"Do you sell guns because you are afraid?"
Her employer looked up from his paper work. Background checks or something. He looked confused at the statement. Probably was. He looked around, "Is this a moral thing?"
She frowned, "What?"
"Eh," He waved his hand, "I got people who preach about gun violence and stuff. Or that twenty-two percent of people are killed by their own weapon."
"That wasn't my issue." She remarked calmly.
"I figured. Talkin' to myself." He mumbled
"I mean, do you deal in weapons because you are afraid of…the past?" She stumbled over the words she wants.
He stared her down. Not hard, but with curiosity or something like it. Then he looked tired, but almost…happy. "You know how old I am?"
She shook her head. He cracked a familiar grin. "Ah…well, I was old enough to serve in the military, complete my serviced to my country, get employment, then eventually own this store for at least five years before my dreams started." He then went back to write.
"Okay." She went over to where she was going to organize ammo.
"I practice my shots every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday because of it." She heard him remark once his back was turned.
She suddenly smiled.
---
Danru told her his office hours for the next couple of weeks. She wanted to see him. She knocked on the suite door.
"It's open." A woman's voice replied. She walked in and saw a lovely lady at the desk. The woman smiled and asked, "Is this an emergency?"
She shook her head. "Can you tell the doctor Rosaline's hear?"
"Alright," The older woman gave the page and though she did not hear the reply from the doctor, the woman smiled at her and said, "He will see you."
She smiled back and walked into the same room as before. There was the same old, portly man. She took a seat and clapped her hands together.
"What seems to be the trouble today?" He asked.
"What are you afraid of?" She asked quickly.
He looked her up and down, "What?"
"I asked…what do you fear?" She asked again.
He pondered this slightly. "I suppose I do not like splinters. I'm always afraid that I'll get one and it won't come out or it will get infected."
She licked her lips. They felt dry, "You convinced your nephew that I wasn't going to be around. He believed you, yet you don't have any proof that I wouldn't be around, yet I'm here. So, you also have no proof that he won't be around. Your nephew even said I should ask you why. But you have no idea, do you? If he's really…" She stared him down, "That's what you are afraid of."
He remained silent, but she watched him. He paled so much. It looked sickening. He opened his mouth, but she raised a hand to stop him and quickly said. "But I know he's not ever coming back." Her other finger has gripped the chair under her. She was admitting more things. It always felt hard.
"I…" He stared at not even her, "…I saw…" He sounded defeated.
"I know he is gone. You don't have to worry." She said, almost happily.
He still stayed paled and she had to turn away. She knew he would be asking more questions and she did not feel comfortable to answer. How was she supposed to show proof for it, to explain her definite yes? She was there, but it was not really her. She looked down; wishing shed had that cup of water again. Maybe she should go.
"Thank you." She glanced back at him. His flesh was back to the right color and his body fell loose. He did not even look that sick anymore.
She smiled and left.
---
I thank my beau, who loved my idea of a "Blaxel," as he named it. He gives me encouragement when I sometimes I needed it.
I also realize I might have my Danru more of a fanon personality then canon, but if he had a heart, I bet he would be pretty jovial.
Sorry for the slow updates, but this is next on my list after I finish an old project.
