Naminé stood in my bedroom doorway, holding her pajamas in her arm. "I thought maybe you'd want to change into these for the night, that way I can clean your clothes?"
"Oh, thanks! That's really thoughtful. I appreciate it." I rubbed the back of my neck. "But… Um… I don't think we're the same size." I was about three inches taller and a bra size or two bigger than her.
She blushed. "Oh, of course! I'm sorry… Do you think maybe Riku would…?"
I shrugged. "Only one way to find out, right?" I grabbed Nemo by the arm, stopping him from running circles around me like he had been ever since Naminé caught my attention. He grabbed onto my pant leg and waddled along with us as we made our way to Riku's bedroom door. I knocked – no answer.
"Hey! You in here?" I called. Still nothing.
I opened the door and walked in. It looked exactly like my room, except the walls were rich blue and a dresser stood at the end of the bed. Nemo jumped on the bed and Naminé stood timidly in the doorway as I walked over to it and pulled open the top drawer. Boxers. Black, of course.
"Should you be going through his stuff?" Naminé said quietly.
"I'm just grabbing a shirt for one night. It's not like I'm stealing his stuff."
Second drawer had an extra coat. "I guess that makes sense, considering— Oh! H-Hi, Riku…" Naminé stammered.
I looked up to see her cowering from the black-clad boy now standing in his bedroom doorway, arms crossed.
"What the hell are you doing, Miyuki?" he said, his tone much lighter than Naminé must've expected. I opened the top drawer and grabbed a pair of boxers.
"Playing with your underwear," I said simply, chucking them at his head. Naminé flinched, stepping out of the line of fire. "I might also be looking for a tshirt and pants to sleep in while the kind-hearted Naminé throws these in the washing machine," I looked down at my dirty clothes.
"Bottom drawer," he said, and chucked the boxers back at me. "Put everything back when you're done playing," he smirked, walking away.
I grinned, thoroughly amused. Naminé stared at me blankly.
"What?" I said, smile fading.
"How can you joke with him like that? He's normally so… stand-offish."
I shrugged. "I don't know. I like making him laugh." I stuffed his underwear back into the top drawer and snatched a shirt and sweapants from the bottom. "Let's go." I walked past the two of them, out the door and headed to my room.
After stripping in the bathroom while Naminé waited patiently in the bedroom, I slid my clothes underneath the door and took a long shower. Hearing water hit the tile reminded me of rain – something I hadn't seen for so long, I felt a little sick for it.
"How can you joke with him like that?" Naminé's words echoed through my head.
Joking keeps you from feeling the full weight of the discussion – a weight that usually crushes you. I think, we've both been feeling the full weight of things for so long…
I turned off the tap and stepped out of the tub, drying myself off with a towel three times my size. I slid into the shirt and sweatpants and walked down the stairs, intending to see how DiZ was doing. I stopped at the library door, hearing his deep bass voice echo against the bookcases.
"What you do with this information is up to you. I am simply the messenger," he said quietly.
"Are you going to tell her?"
"I will always appreciate what you've done for me, Riku. And should you ever ask, I should be happy to do anything you ask. Except tell her."
"A simple 'yes' or 'no' would've sufficed."
I opened the door and walked in, smiling innocently. I noticed a glass of red wine in DiZ's hand as he sat in the chair, his feet propped up on the desk. Riku was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, in the same clothes as me, and I clapped my hand to my cheek.
"We got the same outfit! How embarrassing."
"Truly mortifying," he said sarcastically.
"Hey Diz," I smiled at him. "What're we celebrating?"
"I've created a replica of Twilight Town," DiZ said grandly. "If you step on a pad in the corner of the computer room, your being is shifted into the replica computer room, in the replica mansion, et cetera, et cetera. It's taken weeks to complete, and now Roxas can have a pleasant dream while Naminé collects his thoughts. Organization XIII will be tempted to capture him for their own profit, and we'll have perfect control of them there."
"Really?" My eyes widened at him. "That's incredible. Is that what you were working on all this time?"
He nodded. "We needed it as soon as possible. I have a feeling Sora's nobody is going to require some persuading." He shot a look at Riku.
"I'd rather not dwell on that," he said.
"Either way, it is a relief to have the freedom of enjoying a glass of wine and a good night's rest," DiZ said. "The bottle's in the kitchen if you'd like some, Miyuki."
"Thanks, but I don't drink," I laughed quietly. I'm a minor, so it's illegal for me to drink anyway. But then, it's not as if we're law-fearing citizens…
"What a coincidence…" DiZ shot another look at Riku, who shook his head in what I interpreted as disgust. "I am retiring to my bed now," he stood up and bowed his head at me before exiting. "Goodnight, Miyuki. Riku." A third look was shot at Riku, who muttered a small "Night" in response.
"Sleep in tomorrow, okay?" I said to DiZ.
"If you insist," he chortled as he walked out.
I made a surprised face at Riku. "He bowed to me," I said.
"Drinking always makes him relapse to the mannerisms he had as the leader of his world," he smiled a little.
I laughed a little. "That's right. I forgot about who he was in his world." I sat on the desk and pointed to the chair. "You're always standing around with your arms crossed. Sit down, huh?"
He snorted softly and obeyed, slumping in the chair and letting his head hang back. "So how much did you hear when you were eavesdropping at the door?"
I felt my face get hot and stared at my lap, chewing on my lower lip. "Ah… I heard DiZ say you've got something to tell 'her'. Whoever 'her' is." A smirk played on his lips, not sure if it wanted to stay there or not. "Might 'her' have awkwardly pink hair?"
He smiled now. "It suits you."
But if he always wears a blindfold… Wait! No, he doesn't always wear a blindfold! That's why he wears his hood up very now and then – so that no one sees him in Ansem's body. "Does that mean I'm 'her'?"
"It means you look good. Normally a 'thank you' or something should follow that kind of remark…"
"Thank you. Are you going to tell me what you were talking about?"
"No," he looked a little amused.
"Fine," I shrugged. There was a reason it was just the two of them, anyway. There was a long pause. "I keep expecting I'll wake up, realize that I'm still seven, and that none of this ever happened," I said quietly.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. I wondered if he realized that he was barely a foot from me. "Expecting, or hoping?" he replied in the same hushed tone.
"I'd love to have my family back. But that would mean I'd never have met you. Which would suck, because as far as I can tell, you make a decent friend." There was another pause. "Why won't you let me see you without your blindfold?"
He shook his head. "Because it's not me. I don't want you picturing me in that form."
"But everyone else has seen you like that, haven't they?"
"I think we've established that you are not like everyone else."
"So you're going to cheat me out of seeing your entire face just because I'm awesomer than your average person?"
"I'm not cheating you out of anything. Trust me."
"I think we've established that neither of us are trustworthy," I retorted.
"Why do you want to see me without this blindfold so badly?" he said quietly.
"Eventually, my world's going to be restored. When that happens, I might never see you again. Do you know how pissed I'd be, if I couldn't remember your face because of that blindfold?"
He exhaled. "I'm not taking it off," he said quietly. He tucked his thumb beneath the part of blindfold covering his right eye and gently flipped it up. A bright teal eye blinked several times as it adjusted to the lighting. A few seconds felt like a few hours, but when he finally met my gaze, a chill ran up my spine. My face went red – I was embarrassed for staring at him, even though that was the point of him moving the blindfold in the first place. "Are you blushing?" His eyebrows raised.
"No," I said, too quickly for him to believe.
He smiled, and I expected a cocky remark, but he just sat there, staring back. I felt a little nervous – as though the longer I held his gaze, the easier it was to see what I was thinking. He pushed the blindfold up a little more so that it rested over his right brow on its own, scooting the chair forward and resting an elbow on the desk and his head in one hand. "Well?"
"'Well' what?" I said.
"What do you think of my face, now that you'll be able to remember it?"
"It's rude to fish for compliments, you know."
"You forced me to show you my face. I have the right to ask what you think of it."
"I didn't force you to do any—"
"You know you did."
Alright, I did push you… I pursed my lips. "It's a nice face. I'll have to see it like this more often to remember it properly, though."
"If you insist," he said, his tone suddenly extremely hushed. It almost sounded like a confession. I bit my lower lip again. "I keep expecting you to realize exactly who you're with and walk out of here," he said.
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please."
"I'm serious. I hold back so much power, I scare myself. It sounds like I'm bragging… But what if I release that power, and I lose control of it?"
"And you think I'm going to ditch you just because of that?"
His eyebrows knit. "Aren't you listening?"
"What if I killed myself tonight? What if I'm too weak against my memories, that I just ended it?" He looked shocked. "Don't get lost in what-if's. Everyone has demons. You kill yourself to escape them, let them control you, or you deal with them in whatever way is necessary. Darkness used to control you, and now you deal with it. Your heart wouldn't be where it is now if you weren't strong enough to overcome darkness."
He was silent, staring at me with an expression I couldn't decipher. "Please don't kill yourself," he said finally.
I smiled. "I won't. Especially not now that I have something worth living for. –Being able to go back home and all," I added quickly, the smile being replaced by further blushing. But home won't be the same without my parents. Won't it just be full of more painful memories? …What am I saying? I have to go back and rebuild everything! I have to. But seeing him like this – to hear him be so honest, he even expressed fear – made me wish the routine of the past couple of days would never end. And the fear of losing something is always the one I face first.