Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts. The plot for this piece of fiction is a cross between my own work and a true story. The characters used are property of SquareEnix and Disney. The locations are very real places.
WARNINGS: Mild profanity, drug references, teen pregnancy, STDs, hard drug references, mild references to stoner culture, trespassing, teen sexuality, under-age sex, breaking and entering, theft, the disregard of several Constitutional Amendments, under-age drinking, abusive relationships, teen violence, needles, character death, under-age smoking, heterosexual relationships, homosexual relationships, and implied statutory rape.
WARNING TO THE RELIGIOUS: Know that I have the utmost respect for you and your belief, no matter what it is. Any oversimplification of the topic or anger aimed toward it made in this chapter is not meant as an insult; it is only meant to entertain or properly represent the culture of the time.
-Visual-Boy-
Since the inception of religion, one particular book has dictated that something in particular would happen some day. Some mysterious plan that had something to do with God and Satan. Until then, humans were to think of everyone and everything as equals; treat the world their Lord created for them with respect. Obviously, something went wrong some time between the first volcano blowing and, well, fire. The Dinosaurs died out, and then Humans reigned supreme – a large population of animals followed, ever faithful to a higher form of intelligence. Despite their faith, humankind would then spend the majority of their time atop the food chain demonstrating just how badly they could fuck everything up.
Now, when the source of something goes downhill (water, food, the leather supply for a sex shop) a chain of events is sure to follow. And while some of the results aren't all that terrible (like forgoing that leather whip for a ball gag) some can really effect the quality of living. (Black plague, anyone?) And thus, with the failure of this initial plan, to be seen as the source of all plans (after which God proclaimed, "Fuck it," chucked his sperm at the planet, and held fast forward to get to the video games and cable porn) a good ninety percent of all following plans were doomed to follow in its footsteps. To failure, that is.
This is Demyx's explanation for why his life got fucked up so fast.
-Visual-Boy-
Lesson Seven: Separation Anxiety
-Visual-Boy-
When Demyx showed up on Zexion's door some time between six and seven in the evening on the second day of the new year, the periwinkle-haired boy didn't know what to think. Especially since the blond looked like shit.
"Come on in," he offered, leading the boy into the house, then to his room. "You hungry? We have..." He paused, calling to mind Demyx's diet. "Fruit, I think. Two apples, three oranges."
"I'm going to kill myself."
Light blue eyebrows rose at this. "Care to elaborate?"
"Just... I don't know. Xion's just... wow. Smart, athletic, sweet – and all this she didn't date, so I kept up hope, even with that 'chastity' ring of hers. But no – it had to be an engagement ring!"
The smaller boy stared.
And stared.
And stared.
"You know that's really unnerving, right?"
"Not as unnerving as you killing yourself over a girl that I told you from the start was off limits."
The blond sighed, then collapsed against the wall. "Figure of speech," he drawled. "I'm more likely to kill myself with stress before I get up to courage to jump off a bridge or something."
"It's been two months, Demyx."
He sighed. "Yeah, I know."
Much to Demyx's surprise, and yet sort of not, Zexion walked away from him. He followed the boy further into the house until they arrived in his host's bedroom. Zexion then leaned down, lifted the loose floorboard, and pulled out a plain white mug and the bottle of Jack he remembered from the party. "Drink," he commanded, offering both to the older boy. "I'm limiting you to half a glass, though."
Considering it for a second, Demyx nodded. "Sounds like a plan – but I'm not getting drunk alone." Then, in a move that surprised even him, he reached up and removed his DARE pin.
After a good amount of time, when both boys were suitably hammered, the topic went back to Xion. "'Luxord was my English teacher at my last school.'" Demyx enthusiastically announced in a terrible falsetto that sounded nothing like the girl. "'As soon as I graduate, I'm his.'" Laughing hysterically, the boy collapsed against the bed.
"She didn't lead you on or anything," Zexion slurred, finally growing tired of Demyx's antics.
"She didn't have to," the blond groaned. "God, she is gorgeous. A regular beauty, that's what she is. Guys just flock – we can't help it. Even you can't help it, and you're gay!"
Zexion shrugged.
Demyx laughed mournfully. "See? Even you can't resist her. No one can." He heaved another long sigh, feeling his arms go limp against the mattress. He couldn't have moved if he'd tried. "I thought with her I at least had a chance. But I guess I really am cursed. I'll never lose my first kiss, and let's not mention my virginity."
Through the entirety of the blond's small rant, Zexion had been listening intently, nursing the white mug, which he'd nabbed just before Demyx had collapsed onto the bed, between fidgety fingers. Everything was in overdrive. Colors were bright, lights were dark – it was as if his retinas had gone insane. The world swam before his eyes in a monochrome type of technicolor that made no sense one second, and held the secret of life the next. It was as if the entire world had come back to one point, and that point was in his brain. For the following five minutes the boy was convinced he was God. That Demyx's speech was one being made to a God that would call the shots and make the world his bitch, because Gods could do what they liked.
Eventually this feeling wore off, and he was left feeling bored, and just a touch empty.
"Let's go for a walk," he eventually suggested.
Demyx groaned. "Only if I can jump off a bridge."
"Come on," he coaxed. "Voodoo doughnuts awaits."
"I'm Vegan," Demyx reminded him. "I'm pretty sure doughnuts have egg in them."
"Fine – is there anywhere you want to go?"
-Visual-Boy-
Half an hour later, the world was at peace. At least in the eyes of Demyx, who had been boozed to the point where nothing mattered. Not herpes, not hive-mind mentalities, and certainly not Xion.
Before leaving the house, Zexion had pulled a half-squashed pack of cigarettes from the loose floorboard, along with an old Everlight. There, on a hill overlooking the Columbia river, he took a deep drag, coughed a lot, and sighed even more. "You know, they're thinking of building a few more factories along the river."
He offered the cigarette to Demyx, who promptly decided, 'Fuck it, and accepted, reaching around the bucket of doughnuts to grab at the butt. Taking a long drag, he sputtered out a cough. "That's America for you," he wheezed. "Although I personally expected better of Portland. 'Keep Portland Weird' and all that."
"Did you know they're thinking of making that the city motto?"
"Nope." He took another drag, wheezed, and handed the cigarette back.
Taking a heavy breath from the toxic stick, the shorter boy frowned. "Hey," he gasped, choking out the smoke. "What are the chances of me getting Herpes from you right now?"
Demyx shrugged. "In truth? A million to one. I'm not having an outbreak, so I'm not contagious."
"Oh..." He paused. "So the health teacher who drilled us about sharing cups and stuff was wrong?"
"No, he's right," the blond mused. "Don't share a cup with a stranger. If it's someone you trust saying they're not contagious at the moment, you can probably trust them."
Zexion whispered a small, "Oh..." Then, a good twenty minutes later, announced, "Lexaeus asked me out last week." The blond choked on his own spit. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he managed after a bit, rubbing his sore throat. "Yeah, that just kind of... blindsided me, for lack of a better word." He coughed again for good measure. "What did you say?"
"Yes, of course," the boy chuckled. "You know how I am around him."
Demyx grinned. "He better treat you right."
"Oh, don't worry," he drawled. "He will." They were quiet for a long time after this, staring at the bridge, the river, and the suburbia across the water.
"So what's your favorite subject in school?" Demyx asked out of the blue.
Zexion looked up at his queerly, then laughed. "English or Math," he replied evenly. "I'm guessing you like Phys. Ed."
"Nah," he replied. "History is where it's at." He paused. "What kind of Math are you in?"
"Advanced calculus."
The blond's eyes widened. "Holy shit!"
"I like to think that I'm pretty smart for a sophomore."
"Sophomore, huh?" The disbelieving tone brought the smaller boy's gaze to the other, and he scoffed.
"Yeah," he replied. "What of it?"
"But I thought you had seventh grade with Lexaeus – he's a Junior."
"I did."
"What happened?"
"I..." Zexion trailed off when his voice hitched, then cleared his throat to try again. "I was in an accident. A car accident."
"Oh..." He paused. "Coma?"
"No! What are you – hooked up to a soap? I broke my back. They put some plates in beside my spine. It takes time to recover from shit like that."
"Oh..." They were quiet for a few seconds. "Does Lexaeus know?"
Zexion raised his eyebrows. "We've been dating for a week – why on Earth would he know?"
"I don't know – I just... You know, I just figured he would know. You know?"
"No, I don't know."
"Okay, then." He shrugged. "If you don't know, then you don't know."
"Stop saying 'know.'"
"You know, and I know, that there is no way I'm doing that, you know?"
"Too bad." Shoving the cigarette between the boy's lips, the smaller boy fixed his eyes back on the horizon. The blond followed suit. Then they stared out at the river, both imagining a day far into the future when they wouldn't be able to see it from the hill, the view blocked by factories.
-Visual-Boy-
It was on January 8th, 1996, a Monday, that everything changed.
Demyx, having met up with Zexion at the door, greeted the boy enthusiastically, as he usually did when they crossed paths. It was a normal morning. A normal day. Nothing special. Everyone had just gotten back from Winter Break, and thus grogginess should have ensued.
First period passed much as it should have, with a few people nodding off and one or two kids getting sent to the Principal's office for foul language. Second and third happened much the same.
At lunch, on a day Demyx happened to be sitting at his old table with Kairi and Seifer, he saw first-hand as one of Lexaeus' teammates approached the ASL club's usual table and dumped a plate of spaghetti over his head.
Zexion just sat there as the boy jeered, "Fuckin' faggot." From the shorter boy's reaction, or lack thereof, the blond had a feeling something like it had been going on all day. Especially when he calmly stood from his seat, stepped around his assailant, and walked out of the cafeteria, cool as could be. Beside him, the blond felt Lexaeus begin to rise, but kicked him in the shin to deter him.
"Stay here," he whispered under the noise of the other students before standing. The boy followed Zexion at a quick pace, careful not to lose sight of him. As he passed the football player he made sure to send him a venomous glare, but was unsure as to whether or not it was effective. He'd never been very good at things like that.
Eventually, he followed the periwinkle-haired boy to the bathroom, where he was picking noodles from his hair. He spun to look at who entered, panicked. His fear receded, though, upon seeing Demyx. "Need help?" the blond offered. At the boy's nod, he grinned.
Stepping up to the sinks, he grabbed at the towel dispensers. "Can you believe some people these days?" he griped, running some of the paper towels under the sink. "No manners, I swear." Turning to face the boy, who had managed to get a majority of the noodles into the trash, he swiped at his cheek, wiping away some of the sauce.
"I wonder if this is anything like living with monkeys," the smaller boy mused darkly. Demyx ignored him in favor of cleaning his face. Three sheets of towels later, he dubbed the boy 'clean.'
Pulling the shorter boy into a hug, Demyx held him tight before letting the teen pull away, only to grab onto his shoulders and observe him at arms length. "Are you okay?"
Staring at the floor, the boy replied, "I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"Totally?"
Rolling his eyes, Zexion sighed. "I'm not a girl, you know."
"Really? You took it like one. All silence and class."
"Not funny," he managed through a clenched jaw, though he was visibly fighting laughter. Demyx grinned.
"Good."
He scoffed. "You're awfully eager to take care of me." Shaking out of the boy's grasp, he turned to the sink and washed the last of the tomato sauce from his hands.
"Yeah, well, what are best friends for?" Then Zexion did laugh. "Lexaeus wanted to come, just so you know. I told him to stay put. I've already been seen with you in the cafeteria, but he hasn't. The longer we keep the connection between the two of you out of sight, the better."
Staring up at the taller boy with surprise blatant on his face, the periwinkle-haired teen didn't bother to hide the awe in his voice. "You're... really smart."
"No, I'm not," the blond corrected. "I've just been working too hard on my social image for too long. Running and hiding are my fortes."
Zexion grinned. "I don't give you nearly enough credit, do I?"
"No, but it's nice to hear you admit it," the taller boy joked. "Now, we have a few options. You can hide here in the bathroom while I get our bags, or we can both go out there and face the world in all of its glory."
Shaking his head, the periwinkle-haired boy laughed. "I'll take my chances with the bathroom, if that's alright."
"Great." Making his way to the door, Demyx called over his shoulder, "I'll be back in a bit. Don't go anywhere."
"I'll be here."
Walking calmly back into the cafeteria, the blond found that life had gone on as usual. Unlike in movies, just being popular didn't mean that everyone documented your every move. He could get away with a lot more than most gave him credit, because it wasn't the crowd he had to worry about; it was his friends.
"The hell? Why'd you follow the fairy?" Seifer bitched the moment he got back to collect his bag. Demyx frowned. For a solid second he fought the urge to sock the shorter blond in the jaw.
"In case you didn't notice, Seifer," he hissed, having regained his composure, "that 'fairy' is my friend." The look of utter shock on the boy's face was enough to make the possible recoil worth it. He cautiously glanced at Lexaeus, who appeared to be glaring at his spaghetti, then retreated to Zexion's table.
"This is his bag, right?" he asked, picking up the messenger bag sitting abandoned at the edge of the row. He directed the question at Vanitas, but Xion answered.
"Yeah. How is he?" she asked. Demyx fought the urge to cry.
"Fine. Why didn't you follow?"
She scoffed. "What part of 'boy's bathroom' don't you understand?"
"And Vanitas?"
Her eyebrows rose. "He's Vanitas."
Glancing over at the boy, he really took him in for the first time since their initial meeting. Permanent slouch, baggy clothing, backpack closely guarded – most likely concealing some sort of drug or animal carcass. Xion's words, however simple, made the blond pause as he finally realized just what Vanitas would give to keep his secret. What all of them would give – would do – to keep their secrets. Friends, social status, entire lifestyles, and – in Vanitas' case – criminal acts.
What happened in England? he found himself thinking for the first time.
Eventually, when he'd pushed his curiosity aside, he made for the bathroom. He arrived just in time to see Zexion being forced into a stall.
Grabbing the guy by the back of his hoodie, he yanked hard. Tumbling to the floor, the boy gaped up at him in surprise. "Riku," he greeted, recognizing him from the Swim team. "I must admit, I expected better from you." Not waiting for a reply, he threw Zexion's backpack at the periwinkle-haired boy and walked straight out of the bathroom, expecting him to follow.
He did. "You shouldn't have done that," the boy whispered, careful not to fall behind as Demyx led them down the hall. "If I just take it they'll get sick of it eventually."
"No, they won't," the blond announced. "The thing about people like that is that it's usually something like Religion or insecurities that drive them. Those don't go away easy – especially in High School. And since you're homo they don't see you has a real person; just a disruption in God's plan or a blight on humanity." He sighed. "Now, where's your next class?"
-To-Be-Continued-
End Notes: Seven chapters in! We've reached the halfway point – I feel so accomplished! By the way, Zexion's injury, treatment, scars, and recovery time are all based on a family member of mine who happened to receive their injury in August of 1993, so it is both treatable and survivable. His range of motion is also based off of that person. Thanks to Chaotic Dawn, Elizabeth, Princely, and Roanam for editing, Zenelly for running the KH Big Bang, Conigliomannaro for Alphaing, and everyone who plans to review. I love you guys so much.
Also, celery with creme cheese and honey is surprisingly tasty! Not that I should be having it since I'm both lactose intolerant and hypoglycemic. But heads up: Take a stick of celery, fill it with creme cheese, and draw a little line of honey across the top – but be careful not to add too much! It's amazing. (And if you try it before you review, give me a little feedback on what you thought of it.)
Deliciously,
Besieged Infection
P.S. You know who you are. This is for you.
