Monochrome Chât

Chapter 7

As members of the school orchestra, Roxas and Ven attended weekly practice sessions after school. There were three moments Roxas dreaded most at these sessions. The first was when he had to tune the E string of his violin; the second was the embarrassing occasion Ven's recorder squeaked like a parrot with hiccups because he was laughing; the third was when Dad's car waited outside the gates in place of Isa's.

To Roxas' dismay, all three of them happened that Thursday. Mr Valentine commented that Roxas' E string was slightly off key, Ven burst out laughing at the sound of someone's sneeze and sure enough, when they left school to go home, Dad's silver car was there – not that that meant Dad cared at all. Roxas was fairly certain that he could put two pillows in the backseats of the car, and Dad would still drive off.

"Uh oh." Ven fidgeted with the straps of his schoolbag. "Would Dad—" he started, but even Ven already knew the answer.

Roxas and Ven had brought Hayner Meachem to music practice today. Hayner was a percussionist with no actual concept of rhythm, but he wanted to join the orchestra to impress Olette Brennan, who sat next to him in most classes. Mr Valentine had at first, been astonished by how off beat Hayner was, but he agreed to give him a spot in the orchestra as long as he worked hard. Roxas and Ven were happy to have Hayner with them, but the only problem was getting Hayner home. His parents worked at the Goldsmith-Gardiners' farm, and their long hours meant Hayner got the school bus home every day.

"Don't worry," Ven had said. "Isa can give you a lift home. He's really moody but secretly he's nice."

Roxas supposed that like him, Ven had hoped Saix would have switched out by the end of the day.

"I could just walk back," said Hayner. He had his jaw set and tried to look confident about this idea. The truth was, his sense of direction was about as good as his sense of rhythm.

"No, it's okay. Wait here; I'll ask Dad." Ven ran down the playground. Roxas twisted his mouth in thought and watched as Ven started out cheerful. Then, his shoulders sagged as he spoke with Dad at the window.

Roxas told Hayner to wait by the gates. Quickly, he pulled Ven aside and tried to resolve the situation himself. "Hi Dad. Is it okay if you drop Hayner at home first? I-it's just that he had music practice with us today—"

"Let me tell you why it's not okay." Dad turned in his seat a little bit. Roxas shrank back. "I have a client conference call starting in fifteen minutes. I leave work early every Thursday Isa isn't around to pick you up from your music session. All the while you are standing out there, snivelling and begging me to drive to the other side of the village, you're wasting my valuable time. Get in now, or I'm driving home without you."

Ven swallowed and nodded. Hayner muttered that he'd just walk, but Roxas grabbed his arm and pushed him into the car as well. "It's too far to walk," he half-shouted. As soon as the door closed, with the three of them sat in the back, squashed against one another's bags, Dad drove off. Roxas wasn't sure if anyone else had heard – for he was sitting directly behind Dad – he heard him utter, "Bloody kids."

Hayner looked worried. He was, after all, going further away from his home now, and Dad maintained a stony silence, even when Hayner said a polite, "Good afternoon, Mr Allsands."

Ven sniffed a little during the journey home. This transitioned to full on tears when Dad pulled up in the driveway and got out without looking back at them. Roxas squeezed Ven's hand. That's not our real dad, he tried to convey silently. They all got out the car and Ven ran indoors sobbing.

"Is there a bus stop near here?" Hayner said nervously.

"Don't worry, I think Ven's gone straight to Mum. Come inside," Roxas answered.

Mum didn't need to have been prompted by Ven's crying. She was already in the hallway, staring up in disbelief as Dad wandered off upstairs with his phone to his ear. Saix too, was watching from the kitchen island, one hand propping up her chin.

"Hello, Hayner," said Mum. She retied her apron and shook her head. "I'm so sorry about the misunderstanding."

"He needs to get home, Mum," Ven said. "Dad wouldn't—he just—"

"Hayner, I can drop you off home but since you're here, you're welcome to stay for tea. You can use our phone to call your parents if you like?" Mum smiled at him and ruffled Ven's hair. "And you can stop crying now; come on, tell me about your music practice. What songs did you play?"

She wandered into the kitchen with Ven, easily lifting the sadness out of him. Roxas wished someone would do that to Mum in return. He hoisted his bag on the counter and clambered onto the chair next to Saix, who was taking out her yellow contact lenses.

"Have you switched out?"

"Yeah." Isa rubbed his eyes and groaned into his arms. "Ugh, I need a hot shower." He patted Roxas' shoulder and nodded towards the hall. "Looks like I just missed your music pick up. Sorry about that. What did I miss?"

-x-

Ienzo Friday managed after school club on Thursdays, which adults and schoolchildren alike often complained about. For someone with such a name, it seemed like a nasty trick on Ienzo's part to addle with already-stressed parents' minds. Liam Gardiner raced up the playground, stumbled through the main reception doors and turned left to the classrooms.

"God, I'm so sorry I'm late," he panted. Naminé was the only one left in the club. "Thanks, Ienzo. I'm sorry I kept you waiting. Come on, baby, pack up your stuff."

Ienzo got up from his seat and stood close to Liam, his voice low. "Everything all right?"

"It will be. I just had so much to sort through at the farm, and Arlene's actually been unwell for the last couple of days."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Ienzo.

"Don't be," Liam replied. "She's lost her voice so it's the most peace I've had in a long while. How was Naminé today?"

Ienzo's lips thinned as he surveyed her. She was packing her colouring pencils away one at a time and muttering to her right. "She was as good as ever. A few classmates continue to make life difficult for her, though."

Liam closed his eyes with a deep breath. "And you've spoken to them?"

"You know I have," returned Ienzo. "But children are cruel, Liam. They can hurt in the most elaborate of ways without breaking any rules, like not pairing up with her for group work or accidentally jogging her. Naminé's in a situation that's testing her, and in order to pull through it, she needs to rise to it herself."

Liam sighed, rubbing his temple. It was a habit his father adopted when stressed, and Liam, sniggering, had often called him out on the old man gesture. Before he knew it, though, he was also doing it. "Ienzo…she's quiet. She's a good girl, but she's quiet and shy, and kids don't have patience for that. I mean, Naminé can't suddenly grow confident, can she? More to the point, I don't want her to feel she has to change just so that other people stop being dickwads to her. It's not right."

Ienzo unfolded his arms and brought a hand to his chin in thought. From what Liam could see of his face, he seemed hesitant – a trait that rarely graced someone so proud. He glanced back at Naminé, who seemed to understand that Liam wanted to chat with her teacher; she was now examining the classroom's wall display of the solar system. "I do have a suggestion," Ienzo said after a moment. He adjusted his tie nervously, as though he was about to announce something as insane as skydiving as a form of help for Naminé. "Some mornings before registration, she talks to Lea Murphy and the Allsands twins."

Liam smiled in disbelief. "She's not going near them boys. Xemnas Allsands would do his nut if he found out our families were connecting. He'd misinterpret it as a political ploy on my part and—"

"Xemnas Allsands doesn't care for his sons," Ienzo replied evenly. "I'm sure you are well versed in seeing through his lies."

"Even so…" Liam said. The last thing he wanted to do was provoke Xemnas; he was already proving a fierce opponent and fanning the flames of competition seemed ridiculous. "You think the Allsands boys are worth it?" he clarified.

"They're only slightly older than Naminé and wise beyond their years," said Ienzo. "Perhaps they share a lot in common with Naminé, given their similar position in the campaign. I can ask them to look after her for one lunch break."

"All right," Liam relented. Considering Naminé spent every break and lunch in Ienzo's office, where the bullies couldn't reach her, perhaps it was worth testing the waters, for Naminé's sake. Liam fretted inwardly at the prospect of the Allsands twins actually being bullies themselves, that he was okaying a terrible situation. However, as he said goodbye to Ienzo and walked with Naminé out of school, he realised he couldn't recall anything bad about those boys. They were loud and liked to stick together – as twins that age tended to do – but so far as Xemnas was concerned, it was almost impossible to believe they were his boys.

"Did you enjoy your lessons today?" Liam asked. They got in the car and Naminé fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

"We have a new art project," she murmured. "We're making shoebox rooms. K-Kairi helped me with the ideas."

Liam managed a small nod. "We're running a bit late – that was my fault, sorry – so we'll do a quick dinner tonight. Mummy's still feeling a bit ill so I thought we'd make her a soup and we can talk about your project ideas. What do you think?"

Naminé pulled on her seatbelt. "I think it's a good idea," she murmured. Liam smiled at her through the rear view mirror; to his surprise, with a little bit of delay, Naminé managed to smile back. Liam wondered if he owed that progress to the most unlikely of people.

"Oh look, she's well enough to text." Liam took out his phone and prepared to scoff at Arlene's shitty complaints for him to hurry up and serve her dinner. However, she had only sent him a single word – pregnant.

-x-

Isa was clenching the inner fabric of his pockets, in a last ditch attempt to look completely unflustered outside 8, Blue Park Lane. He was still bristling from hearing from Roxas about Xemnas, however, so even the prospect of seeing Lea was difficult to enjoy. He chewed the inside of his mouth, ran his distracted mind through direct and brutally honest remarks he had lined up to ensure that stone wall remained between him and Lea. He had no idea why he was still doing it, really, adding more bricks and mortar for a defence in the exact shape of a welcoming archway.

When Lea opened the front door, a grin round an unlit cigarette, Isa pretended he was affronted and it was his Thursday evening that had been disturbed. "I got your text asking me to come out. I've only just switched in so this is the earliest I could come round."

"Yeah? You know, you could do what normal people do and text back saying okay. I could have whizzed round and picked you up then."

Isa gave Lea's Beetle a side glance. The hunk of dirty yellow metal didn't look like it had whizzed anywhere for years. "I brought my car," he said. He tripped over his next sentence. "We could go for a drive."

Isa's skills were rusty; he knew that. His last attempt to ask someone out had been Tifa Lockhart, who was twelve years older than him; she barely counted because one, everyone asked out Tifa at some point in their life and two, Isa had been fourteen and stupid at the time. Still, it didn't look like Lea had much ability either, for instead of leaning seductively against the doorframe with bedroom eyes (as Isa had imagined on his way here), Lea was trying to yawn with a cigarette in his mouth and scratching his stomach.

"Sure; I'll just get my car keys then."

"We can take my car."

Lea raised a thin eyebrow. "Don't judge the Bug by its looks; that thing's gone up and down the country. It even went to Scotland a couple of years back."

"Mine's a convertible."

Lea lifted his gaze to study the cloudless sky. It was mild, with the slightest remnants of sunset. "Okay, you win." He grinned, slipped behind the door for his house keys. As he did, Isa got a quick view of the hallway behind him, which stretched deeper into the house and finished with the bare kitchen. Everything seemed to still be in boxes.

"I can drive us to Burntcrest, if you need to buy anything for your place?" Isa suggested, adding pointedly, "It's missing a fair chunk of everyday stuff."

"Nah, I put an order in with the shop yesterday and arranged a home delivery for tomorrow." Lea shut the front door and followed him to the car. His gaze wandered around the insides of Isa's small convertible, perhaps searching for a clue about him, a conversation starter. Isa had carefully kept his car neutral, though.

"Seatbelt," Isa instructed, and by momentous occasion, Lea complied without cracking a bad joke or irritating remark. He steered into the road and began to head towards the wetlands.

"Wetlands?" said Lea, when Isa announced their destination.

"You're a city guy, aren't you?" Isa said. "I thought it'd be a nice change of scenery. Silverkey's a shithole of a village, but its natural surroundings are impressive. We sit on the River Keye's approach to the sea, so its estuary creates a lot of salt marshes. They're a fascinating ecosystem of their own and they're pretty much the only land in Silverkey that doesn't have Liam Gardiner's name stamped on it. Burntcrest – the main town from here – uses Silverkey's marshes as part of their schools' geography studies and research trips. When they visit, it's usually the biggest boost in business Silverkey gets all year. So with that in mind, our village owes a lot to the wetlands it has little to no concern for."

Lea drummed his fingers on his thigh. "What's the deal with Liam Gardiner?"

"Really? That's all you got from that?" Isa tore his eyes away from the road for just a second; Lea didn't look like he was fooling around. "You're not going to call me an eco nut or something?"

"You can be an eco nut; I don't mind," Lea answered. He rubbed his left arm thoughtfully. "It's pretty cute. So come on, answer my question. Why does everyone in this town live according to Liam Gardiner's schedule?"

Isa half-wished he wasn't driving. He wanted to look at Lea while they talked but at the same time, doing this would annihilate much of Isa's already basic social skills. He liked Lea, to the point just being with him would grow a lump in his throat, and he'd stumble over words he had been using since he was two, forming bumbling sentences of repetition and redundancy. It didn't help that Lea was remarkably good looking in the scruffy, unconventional kind of way. And the leg game at Gongaga's…Isa felt hot round the collar just thinking about it.

"Generally speaking," he said tersely, "Silverkey revolves round Liam because he owns most of its land and jobs. If he's not your landlord, he's your employer. He's a conniving bastard, especially with that sour partner of his giving him ideas – but his campaign's attractive because the alternative is Xemnas."

Lea stopped rolling up his sleeves. With the quick glances a driver could spare, Isa scraped a good look at him, and on closer inspection he saw Lea's arms weren't just dirty as he had assumed; the dark smudges on him looked to be from cigarette burns. "Let's get this straight; you don't like him either? What is up with your family?"

"Where do we start?" Isa replied blandly. He indicated left and turned onto a country road. He could already smell the salt in the air. "What do you know about him?"

"Only that he's incapable of human emotion." To Isa's great annoyance, Lea sat forwards to open the compartment in front of his seat. "He only seems to remember he's got a wife and kids when his campaign requires it. What a dick."

Isa's grip on the steering wheel tightened. Lea was far more perceptive than he looked, and given how quickly he had grown on Aqua and the twins, Isa wanted to tell the truth, so that Lea would feel less pity for the Allsands and instead, share their anger. However, there was one thing he still had to understand about Lea, that forced him to purse his lips and pull up on the side of the road and turn off the engine.

"Look, I don't want to talk about Xemnas. C-can we talk about us?"

"Us?" Lea repeated.

"Yes, us." Isa undid his seatbelt and crossed his arms. "I'm going to tell you right now, nice and clear, that I…look, I'm not here to muck around. I know you're keen on me, but I'm not going to be someone you have for a night and then forget about the next morning, all right? Silverkey has no room for that kind of—that kind of—"

"—Bullshit," Lea supplied.

"Tomfoolery."

The leather seat creaked as Lea folded his arms behind his head in thought. The sky was darkening, and the moon was struggling behind clumps of stormy clouds. Isa could only really see the silhouette of Lea's face. "I mean it," Isa said sternly. "I have to stay in Silverkey as long as Aqua does – so I'm stuck here forever, essentially. The backlash will destroy me if I wind up just being someone's…p-plaything. So while this flirting of yours is fine if you're just being silly, the minute you want more from me, it stops. It all stops unless you're being serious."

He raised his eyebrows to prompt Lea; then, he realised perhaps this gesture had gone amiss in the dark. He heard Lea exhale and cluck his tongue, thinking.

"Can I smoke?" he said after a minute.

"What? Were you even listening to me?"

"I was! You've just put me on the spot and I'm nervous as hell. Can I? Please?" He rattled his cigarette packet. Isa sighed and grumbled, "Fine."

It was agonising (for more reasons than simple impatience), seeing Lea's face glow in the flash of his lighter and then succumb to the night again. His face was so angular, with a sharp nose, thin eyebrows and pointed chin. His left leg was shaking up and down, but despite his proclamations, Lea didn't look nervous at all. Isa suspected Lea knew exactly what he was doing.

"All right, how about this." Lea rested his left arm over the side of the car. "After my cigarette, we kiss. My guess is that if there is something serious between us, we'll both feel it and want to pursue it. If it feels weird and gross, however, then we finish it there and that's that. No strings attached."

Isa chewed his lip. He was quite glad Lea couldn't see the full extent of his hesitance. His heart was hammering against his ribs and his palms were clammy against his shirt. How was he supposed to know through one kiss whether a whole relationship was worth it? And post-cigarette too? Of course it was going to be weird and gross.

"Does it sound good with you?"

Isa twisted his lips. "Y-yeah, okay."

"Great." Lea's grin resonated through the single syllable.

It turned out to be the longest cigarette break in the world. Isa waited, stewing in silence, as Lea took occasional drags and studied the moon-kissed wetlands. Isa had half a mind to grab the stupid cigarette and finish it himself, if it meant this torture would end. He refused to give in, however. He had gone his whole life without being kissed; what were a few more minutes?

Isa jolted, an invisible wave of cold water dropping on him. What if he was rubbish? Surely that was a bigger crime than having nicotine breath. Wait, was his breath even okay? In a fluster, Isa looked away from the passenger seat and back to the steering wheel. He pretended to itch his nose and tried to smell his breath. He panicked. Why the hell did he agree to something so stupid?

He could just drive, he realised. Lea couldn't go ahead with the make-or-break kiss if Isa was driving…

Too late. Lea threw the butt into the marsh (prompting Isa's 'eco nut' side into a silent but seething rage) and undid his seatbelt. His right arm stretched across the gap between their seats. He leaned towards Isa. Taking a deep breath, Isa copied. He didn't quite close the gap, so Lea murmured, "Are you okay? Nervous?"

"I'm not nervous!" he shot back (which, at such proximity, probably sounded like he was shouting). "Why would I be nervous? Like you said, it's no strings attached. Go on, just do it; just get it over with." He squeezed his eyes shut and waited, like he was ten again and about to get his ear pierced.

He heard creaking leather, and then they bumped noses. "You need to tilt your head too," muttered Lea. "It's easier. And don't be so stiff." He angled Isa's face. Isa could feel the warmth of Lea's palm and the icy touch of the numerous rings he wore. He was about to open his eyes to check if this was actually going to happen, when there was a firm, definite press of Lea's lips against his own. Isa didn't really know what he had been expecting. He supposed Lea would be as rough and mean as he looked, but after the initial force of contact, everything about him was soft, gentle, cold. Lea's fingertips were cool, starting shivers as they ghosted the nape of his neck and buried themselves in his hair. Isa felt his breath catch on the light breeze.

Isa broke away before Lea had a chance to deepen the kiss. There was a pause, a still moment when Lea waited with gentle patience and Isa's mind reeled and overworked itself to the edge of madness. They were now only connected through Isa's hand, which had at one point gripped the front of Lea's shirt, preventing them from pulling too far apart. Lea's arm draped along the backrest of his seat.

The whole thing was just so stupid, Isa decided. He couldn't bank everything on one kiss, could he? How was he supposed to know? God, did he even swing this way?

Slowly, he tried again, this time parting his lips a little more to see what Lea would do. Lea settled for sucking on his lower lip, and then he proceeded duck closer, trailing kisses down his neck. Isa wasn't quite prepared for the sensation of uneven stubble against his collarbone. He managed to shudder out a quick breath, free hand jumping to Lea's hair in a desperate bid to keep his reaction under control.

He clenched the thin material of Lea's shirt, so tight he might have ripped a button, and then he pushed the redhead back. "Get out the car."

Lea looked as though he wanted to protest, but all that came out of him was, "Sure." Isa watched as he packed up his cigarette box and lighter. He got out and closed the door, his face already arranged into a tight smile. Lea muttered some sort of apology. However, instead of driving off and leaving him behind (as Lea clearly thought), Isa got out the car too. He walked round the front, face red and jaw squared. Lea held up his palms, but Isa wasn't going to throw a punch.

He took Lea's shirt again, yanked him down a little into a quick kiss. Lea was so thin, as formless as the smoke he smelled of, but Isa had long forgotten how to be gentle. He wrestled himself into Lea's arms; he didn't want any sliver of a gap between their bodies.

"Thank God," Lea breathed, his fingers digging into Isa's sides. "I've wanted to kiss you the minute I saw you."

The stubble was back, up and down his neck in a terrible, professional exercise of torture. Isa let out a groan. "Th-then why didn't you just fucking do it?"

"I don't know," Lea muttered with a grin, bumping noses. "Because you're fucking unapproachable?"

Isa didn't need to say out loud that that this was definitely worth pursuing.

-x-

Aqua was up past midnight, cutting out tiny butterflies as part of a spring-themed box frame. It wasn't unusual for her to be so immersed in her works for Monochrome Chât thattime would rush by without her realising. It was, after all, her sanctuary, an adamant truth that hid in her world of lies. Considering Monochrome Chât earned Aqua more than enough money for her to live independently, without relying on Xemnas, he spoke cruelly of it. At Lea's welcoming party, Aqua overheard him describe her business as a 'papier-mâché club', and he always smiled tiredly in her background when Aqua tried to talk about it. That was how Xemnas often escaped the harsh judgment of Silverkey. His contempt of her was cleverly veiled as a exhausted man letting his demanding wife indulge in silly things, and suddenly, it was Aqua who was letting the family down.

She was hoping that with enough work, enough paper shapes, her anger would soon subside and like the hundreds of other occasions Xemnas had upset her, she'd let it go.

She seethed, though. Saix wasn't here for her to vent to either, and that might have been all she needed for this occasion to also slip through the net. Aqua struggled to cut straight, and when the downstairs cuckoo clock quietly chimed twelve, she dropped her scissors, stood up and took a deep breath.

She couldn't let this one go.

Xemnas was reading in bed, his collection of BlackBerrys and work papers on the cabinet nearby. He didn't glance up from his book until Aqua cleared her throat. "What's wrong?" he said. "Go to sleep; it's late."

"Would it kill you to have a scrap of decency?" she said.

Finally, Xemnas shut his book. He sat back against the headboard. "What's this about?"

"Today, when the boys asked if you could drop Hayner off at home." She crossed her arms so that he wouldn't see her shaking hands. "Roxas and Ven rarely ask anything of you, and the moment they do, you crush them like that."

"I had a conference call," Xemnas said simply. He heaved a large sigh as though he was trying to explain calculus to a worm. "It's what I do, Aqua. My job is far more complex than cutting pretty shapes. It isn't a call for an argument. If we need to drop off Hayner every week, I can accommodate that from now on and schedule my calls for a different time. Problem solved. Now stop dithering and come to bed."

Aqua resented how easily her resolve fell apart. With a simple twist on the situation, Xemnas had put himself back in the clear, and any dissent from her now would just make her look unreasonable. She got ready for bed and slid into the covers, switching off the light. Xemnas continued reading for a few minutes, and then he stretched across for the bedside lamp. Aqua watched the bulb fade into the night. Xemnas sighed, flat on his back, a good twelve inches between them.

"…I do think you should have a bit more respect for me," he said after a moment. "Bearing in mind I'm no one's husband or father, I do an awful lot for this family."

Aqua gripped the covers, staring up at the ceiling. "I know; I'm sorry."

"Think how easy it is for me every time I'm on holiday in Wales to just not bother returning." He shifted, rolling onto his side to face her. "I could choose to have a life of my own; I could find a prettier wife and have smarter children. Yet I come back to you and those brats every single day, in gratitude to Eraqus for giving me life. Is that not enough devotion for you? I have brought more money and foundation to this family than Terra could possibly have managed, and that still is not enough?"

Aqua bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she murmured again. "I just…Your anger lies with me, not the boys. I only ask that you leave the boys alone."

She knew he was smiling. Whenever there was silence between them, Xemnas never wasted a moment to hold her in contempt. "You forget so often how I owe you absolutely nothing." He sealed the gap between them, his left arm draping over her waist. He fitted comfortably against her. "Still, indeed you are right. Those boys shouldn't have to bear the brunt of their parents' foolishness."

Aqua closed her eyes, biting hard on her lip. The warmth of his arm spread across her stomach; his breaths touched the curve of her neck. Please, she thought desperately. No more than that. Not tonight.

She waited for his silence. At least when he was silent, she could pretend. She waited, and like every night when she was the only one left awake in the house, she curled up and pretended it was Terra with her.