AN: Craziness, man, beyond belief. It put me in the Land of Eternal Bah!. ( o )

And Riku's hair is a slip of the scissors away from being a mullet. Just thought I'd point it out.

==========

10

True that I'd given an unadulterated damn when Sora asked me if I knew why it was raining, but why'd he ask me such a thing? No one that took 2nd grade science asks why it rains; this had to be segueing into something weird. The real question was what sort of rare gems would be falling out of Sora's mouth this time. Better not be anything about 'darkness' because trying to figure out that crap was like feeding me poison through an IV drip stuck directly to my cerebellum. Acid poison. Corrosive acid poison.

'Know why it's raining?' indeed. I was on to him; he couldn't make me fall into a trap that didn't exist, no 'senses lulled into false security' for me. Just as Kairi's 'you don't look good in turtlenecks' meant 'vampire on the loose,' 'know why it's raining' probably meant 'hope you're flexible—because it's time to kiss your ass good-bye.'

Shi'yat. I presupposed that ass assassination via weapons of mass ass destruction was a lot less fun than popping bubblewrap. Still, no matter how tightly people cling onto the idea of remaining flesh-ified, unless they're cremated, no one's above letting their Thrones of Dirt cradle their worm riddled tissue. Just lookit that Sora guy. Anything can happen. He was post post-mortem. Sora The Amazing Backwards Pinocchio (S.T.A.B. Pinocchio for short), as I never called him. He's a real boy! Not no more he ain't. I'd cut the strings that held him down but that's what outsiders considered 'murder'. Kinda funny to imagine a lifeless hand flopping around and then remembering that it was once able to hold onto you with its own strength. Kinda funny? More like—not really.

Wait, hold the walkie-talkie, instant messaging, picture-taking phone. I knew what was going on. Distraction was stabbing my brain cells one by one, diluting my thoughts and keeping me in a place far, far from reality. Confound it. I say 'up yours' with gusto to that habit of self-distraction. I was tired of finding myself thinking about… hmmm, golden unicorns…

Dork, cough.

Who said that?!

So! Back to the question posed a zillion hours ago: 'Know why it's raining?'

Sora's long awaited response: "To become paradise, it needs to rain. That's how things grow and stay alive."

Huh? That was strangely normal-ish. Not by any means in Sora Standard, but normal enough for Human Standard. Ok, maybe semi-normal on the Sora scale… because hearing those words from him caused a 'pang of recollection' in the back of my mind. Like one o' dem phantom pains you get when a forgotten dream begs to be remembered. It's annoying as shit.

"Yeah, it needs to rain. And then the flood drowns us all." I was sure I'd used that retort before, too. Why'd it feel like we were having a recycled conversation? Halt! Deal with the déjà vu thang later. Okay, whatever I say.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," Sora bantered on, trying to maintain his point, "good things can come from the bad."

Hack, gag. Excuse me, I choked on a little bit of irony. Sora talking about dying, go figure. Yep, that spun a good yarn all right. And thanks for the pep talk, sorry if I laugh, because, ha ha ha, what did any of this have to do with anything?! Where was this going…

Schnap. It coulda been like the turtleneck thing, prophesied doom to be decoded from a string of stupid words. I hate those! Quick, what could 'good things can come from the bad' have meant?

Sora answered that before I asked, "If we make it through this storm, it must really mean we can't be torn apart. Ever."

Really now. Oh.

Ohh, that's what it'd been all about. This vampire thing was a bad thing, right? When we fixed it up, this quote 'storm' would have a happy ending, a perfect paradise of friendship! Egad, how wonderfully fruit loopy. If I disregarded the 'if we make it through' part, it sounded promising. Finally, our ancestors had smiled upon us; we had a shitload of good fortune just waiting! There really was a pot o' golden Skittles at the end of the goddamn rain-friggin-bow!! Every cloud had a silver lining because, get it, it was raining!

And, shucks, was it hot in there or was it just me? Felt like I got a slap in the face, sans the slap, patches of heat left on my cheek(s). Was that what it felt like to have someone confess something fruit loopy to you? If that was the reason why he looked away when I told him that 'you're all I have left' stuff earlier, I didn't blame him anymore. My brain, it boggles like a frog in a blender.

"Well, umm. I'ma… I'm gonna go over—there," I mumbled, not really knowing where I was going. All I knew was I was going. Over—there.

"Don't go outside."

You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?! I don't see anyon—oh, yeah he was talking to me. I miraculously found myself right in of the sliding glass door, heading to that backyard beach thing where Sora and I used to stare at the night sky and wonder about whatever made us wonder. Guess smart guy Auto Pilot thought it was a good time to take me to my thinking spot to ponder our victories and tribulations.

Wait a sec…

What's worse than 'oops, where the hell am I'? Heeling like a dog. I just did when he told me to stop. Har ha, look who was whipped harder than whipped cream. He owned me now or what?

"And why can't I go outside?" Psh, I'd prefer my gonads out of Ms. Man's lock box, thanks.

"This storm, it isn't right."

SEE? I knew it all along. You can't pull the wool over my eyes twice, in the same week. I knew there was something funky going on with this storm, he wouldn't talk about such trivial things just to cheer me up. This storm wasn't 'right'? I took it as an omen of doom. Not just doom, no, but custom-made doom. It'd go with the theme of things not making sense. So, there was a reason to be fearful for our hides after all. Pardon me, I must attend to vomiting in terror.

"How's this storm 'not right'?"

I predicted he'd say, 'I just feel it,' adding that there weren't words to describe how he knew he felt it. Then he'd strain to coerce that idea into my unbelieving mind.

How sweet it was yet wasn't to be right. What now, was there something outside natural occurrences causing it to rain? Encountering evil rainmen didn't sound appealing. Great, now I was gonna die. Worse, I was expecting to die. Damn you, rain, not even touching us but making us prisoner of a nightmare and other assorted stuff!

"What about the other people out there? Are they in trouble?"

I predicted he'd say, 'I dunno' and leave it at that.

Bull's eye again (witness the accursed genius bestowed upon me). Of course no one else had to worry, we were the only freaks around. Right? I hoped so. Hoped beyond hope. Yes, I was leaving a message on kami-sama's answering machine. Pick up, I know you're there, stop screening your calls! Make it stop raining and save the people, please! Maybe save us a little, too!

No? I'll show you…!!

I fogged up a patch of glass door with my breath and drew a frown-y face. In case you're dense, that was supposed to express my internal mental fracas. But who cared. After getting a whiff of my kim-chee-instant-ramen-tastic breath (was that really the reason?), I made way to the fridge to fix that.

'Shall we dance, Asahi, my Beer Maiden?' my eyes seemed to ask.

'Forevermore,' its sleekly silver tab seemed to reply. How eloquent. Yoink!

Upon turning back around I saw that, oh, my dear Jabberwocky, indeed my fading frown-y face was under Sora's scrutiny. How pathetic was that thing? Was it in conjunction with how pathetic I was?

"I was going for the symbolic feeling, " I imitated a flitty Mr. Fancy Breeches. Then that annoyed me so I stopped, "We're not exactly en route to Candyland," dramatic pause, "Or are we? Wherever I go, there I am but I didn't ask you yet. Maybe you're happy where we are. Maybe Kairi's happy," (bonus: using her name), "Why wouldn't she be, I'm cleaning her mess," oops, said the quiet part out loud, "Not that you're the mess. I mean… Shut up."

Maybe what we had right then was all we needed. There was perfect host/parasite action going on. It could go on until I died and since he was so hopelessly psychologically/physically devoted/dependant on me, he'd honorably starve himself after I was gone. That way, no matter dead or alive, we'd always end up in the same place. Yeah, right, that went under the 'Badly Deluded Ideas' list right after article 42-b: Kairi paying someone to make Sora a leech-of-life thing. Score, bonehead.

"And if it's as you said, the bad things make us and don't break us. We'll be inseparable after this 'naughty' storm is gone. Wonder which'll happen first, me falling through some rusty chainsaws or you getting your arm gnawed through by a rabid panda. Better flip a coin."

Like a hot knife through the butter of your soul, my tame sarcasm. That's right, I said 'butter of your soul'!

"Just messin wit'cha, wipe that face of your face. Expression. Wipe that expression off your face."

So Sora gave me a different look that said how weird I was. The mouth part of his face then said, "Didn't mean to make you mad."

"I was kidding."

"No use lying."

In the name of Great Flapjacks, listen Short Stack, "Whatever psychic thing telling you that I feel mad, it's not wrong. But feeling something for a little bit doesn't mean I do all the time, or wanna at all. I'm not mad."

I told him that with a scowl scrawled on my face. I was baffled, perplexed, wrathful, yes, but happily so. What I said was probably true, I was probably happy, I dunno, I was a stranger to me, weep, gurgle, stab.

Then settled upon our shoulders a silence much like the kind we've been burdened by before. Just like crystal meth, awkward silence is the gift that keeps on giving. But the rain, the rain, the rain, it was non-silent. It was like the rain was trying to tell me something…nothing. Rain can't talk, idiot. At least not yet. Nevertheless, it'd earned my undying hatred, just as the sunrise had. Stupid sunrise, taking away my night sky. If ever I said I hated the night sky because of anything, I lied.

"Well, I dunno what now. Since this storm 'isn't right', guess we should revel in our current state of un-decapitation," harped the wizened Riku, the BeastMaster of Harp (whatever that is).

I raised the can to my lips and ended up sucking empty air. Alas, it only made sense such nonessential little solaces didn't last long. Dance over, Beer Maiden, and all that's left is your silvery dress. Holy mackerel, what in the name of Buddha's bicycle was I talking about? A drink is not a person, nor can it take the place of one, nor is the empty can 'her' empty 'dress'.

'See how lonely you are, seeing how empty I am, Fool,' Beer Can Lady seemed to say with biznatch-osity turned on full blast.

'Shove it with coconuts,' I said. Out loud. "Not you, Sora. What? Yes, I was talking to the can, mother."

==========

Stress? Lack of rest? Could be. A vein near my temple began to flutter delicately as a jackhammer does through asphalt. It was like Christmas and my birthday smushed into one and stewing in my skull-kettle. Great feeling. Yup.

Sure, we were stuck inside because the storm. Nay, the trepidation ended not there. I still had to worry about the next day, not only about the bills and food and gasoline, but I wanted to see the seven-colored arc of sunlight refracting in droplets of water, the rainbow, but with all the bad things like the Notorious D.O.C Fink-en-fly out there committing dastardly deeds and having an unclosed deal with Banshee Inc. and why did Banshee want me to know that this was her fault what the frick was I gonna do to make sure we saw paradise in the end?! If there was no tomorrow, on a scale of 'yes' to 'no', how screwed were we?

Very much yet not really, a paradox for the ages.

Shut up, Brain, don't make me stab you with a Q-tip. Periods of shutting up are good.

Time may've been short, and I mighta been a few leaves short of locoweed, but fears weren't gonna clog things up.

Scale:

[Uber Acceptable] ------------------------[ Acceptable]----------------clogging----- [Unacceptable]

Clogging = unacceptable.

Things being helter-skelter didn't mean I couldn't, we couldn't…

Have fun! Nary a microsecond of mindless amusement had taken place that whole day. I was gonna work this 'free' evening like a sweatshop going out of business.

See, there's fun to be derived from a certain activity. It lets you see a side of people you can't ask to see, but boy do you bask in its glow when it ventures into the light. For later blackmail purposes. First timers can get pretty nervous, especially if they had to go out amongst strangers and pay to get about it. Oh well. I had all that we needed right at home. Mmmyes.

"The living room, c'mon," I said. And he followed me (who owned whom now?). I kept a face straighter than a ruler, "Karaoke."

"No."

What, was he the Jolly Police, stealing my jollies?

"That wasn't a request. What time is it?"

"Time?" Sora stirred to point at my watch again. But!

"Wrong. It's Karaoke time. I bought a karaoke machine so I could sing. And singing is…? Rhymes with 'fun'. "

"Fun."

"You're right, so you go first."

"I don't know the words."

Exasperating little…

"The words show up on the screen."

"I know, but—"

"Damn it, this is the only fun that doesn't require opening windows to let noxious fumes out. We're gonna have 'fun' because aren't you tired of everyone being sad, and talking about darkness and lost memory? I'ma see you laugh because I wanna see it," no Sora, you may not speak, shut your mouth, dingus, "What's hard to understand about it, I can spell it out you need it!" Ahem. So then, "I'll sing first, show you how it's done." Always the astute role model, I know, I know.

Sadly, what I really knew was the track numbers like the back of my hand. Maybe Sora could choose what he wanted by the name of the song or something, no way there was gonna be a 'duet'. I threw the song list folder thing at him and his eyes practically crossed as he watched it peg him between the eyes. Target! He glared at me something fierce and I just smirked back. Bad idea? I thought it was rather clever.

Everything set up? Ok. 1 2 3 4. Sound effect: croaking frogs. That's pretty much how I sounded.

"See? Easy. Your turn."

Yes, Sora wasn't good. He's got no hidden spring of ambrosia in his vocal chords. It was more like silk, because silk's something that comes out of a worm's back end. Kidding. But it wasn't a contest, he was supposed to be having fun. Laugh, smile and be merry, damn you! Singing monotone defeats the purpose.

My turn again, I'd show him. But I ended up sounding like croaking frogs again, plus cat yowling. At least I heard him snicker when my voice cracked. Laugh at my inefficiency, why doesn't everyone.

Sora's turn again. What, was he laughing when he saw (heard) how (utterly) hopeless it was for him to try to stay on beat? See, karaoke is fun. People smiling and laughing carefree-like makes other people wanna smile and laugh. Anyone that says otherwise is as full of shit as a backed up elephant's colon.

My turn again. Hilarity and hijinx ensued.

"This is the last one, then I quit," Sora proclaimed, as if he had a say in the matter.

'Quit' karaoke? He didn't quit, he was fired. And if he got fired, I quit. I know for a fact solo karaoke is just sad. Lookit me for instance, knowing the whole track list.

Wouldn't you know it, Sora's next song was a syrupy, 'just broke up, gonna rage like the dragon I am', song with a slow beat to it. Better him than me. After four minutes, Sora's song did it's dramatic, weepy decrescendo. Boo freaking hoo. The only way I knew the song was over was when I saw his mouth stop moving. Funny, I hadn't heard a word of that song—my eyes had been glued to watching his mouth. Something weird was going on, where were those pointy teeth things of his (was that really reason I was watching)? Yarg, my eyes, they burn, the goggles do nothing!

So, all in all, Adventure in Karaokeland killed about ½ an hour and ended bitter-sweetly bitterly. Such unessential little solaces never last long. Downers-'R'- Us, I knew that the moment he cracked a smile. It'd hafta end, as all things do. Getting Sora's 'groove' back and keeping it back wasn't easy. How could it be? Time to grow up and move on.

I went to put the mic and other random things away (the bum just watched me) and I felt a heaviness in my chest. As in literal heaviness, as in the air I was breathing was heavy. And replete with the smell of dust even with the filter whatnots going on in the house's vent-y regions. Highly unusual that a heavy stillness should settle and that it should smell like it'd rained in the house. There were holes in the roof maybe…?

"Hey."

"What?"

Naw, Sora wouldn't know anything about it if I asked him. "You gonna help me or not? Mooch, forget it."

I just never noticed the smell every other time that it rained. The house was old, after all, I'd grown up in it and my parents gave it to me when they 'moved on up' to a better place, leaving this beachside property for the 'convenient' city. Paying a dog walker was 'convenience'?

I began to feel oh-so-sure of my sound logic, and of myself. Then in the next moment, if I coughed, I coulda vomited out my heart. It was all up in my throat. Girlish spewing of internal organs? Well, yeah. A rush of wet coldness ran across the back of my neck. I looked up in case it'd been a leak in the roof above me. Or something. No such luck. Now, no matter the circumstances, that just ain't right. I'd seen this countless times in movies, the unexplainable wash of cold streaking across the skin, making the body one giant goose bump ('goose pimple' sounds nasty because, ew, goose pus). This was a surefire sign of bad luck by horror-movie standards.

Great, now I really was expecting to die. House smelling weird? Bad rain? Cold sweats like secreting avalanches through my pores? Me: great, but with the R stretched out. More like "grrrreat." I was freakin' out, man! All of it, solid proof Sora was bad juju vibes for my good mojo-ic karma. But for crying the hell out loud, I wanted him around. Call me softie, call me a sucka, but remember my real name is Riku.

Despite the flow of those purposeless thoughts, the perfect thing still managed to happen. Everything mercifully stopped. Merciful like a nurse with morphine, merciful like a man with a gun and I was a horse with a shattered leg. Time stood still as a picture, only more lifelike and 3D. And warmer and heavier. I think I forgot about heavy air and rain and the cold thing and Kairi and…

"I'm glad you want me happy," I felt two things wrap around me from behind, "and that you want me around."

Ey, not so easy. People touching me at all without prior warning? Not normal. I made it habit to wear ammonia scented cologne to keep people away. Of course I made that up but still. Sora, a.k.a. Blunty McBlunt, was letting off some ooga-booga vibes.

"Of course I do. I want you around for—for as long as… yeah, I want you around."

After several more endless minutes, and before the sissified twerp known as me completely liquefied at this contact, I had to wonder. How'd he get so close, didn't I piss him off at all, me being a jerk (and at least reeking of my last meal)? Did he put dust into the vents when I wasn't looking? Did he make that cold thing I'd felt on the back of my neck? More importantly…

"What're you doing, what the hell's going on? And are you—are you crying? Don't make me go back there!"

"I'm not crying. "

Pft. So, your face finally sprung a leak, has it, Popinjay?

"So it's like rain on a statue. Unmoving face as the water drips down." Yes, I said it. Hope he remembered that, he'd told me the something like that yesterday when the sight of him elicited tears from my face. How's irony taste, like a clown, funny and childhood scarring-ly scary?!

I peeled his arms off of me and turned to face him. He probably thought he was buttering me up into bite-size pieces, just like when he let me see all my good dreams before absorbing them or having that hot breathing all over my neck when he wanted to steal my breath. Those hurt so good, I always enjoyed getting a taste if my own mortality. Not. Weeping and touching me equated to a big hurt on the way.

"It's a feeding thing, isn't it?" Gleaming images of teeth plus gouging fingernails came to mind. Mingled blood raining daintily upon his fingertips. Don't tell me he wanted to reduce me to a smear of bodily residue on the ceiling—or that he had anymore mind tricks up his sleeve.

"I like the things you can make me forget, and what you make me remember…" he said, disregarding that feeding thing I mentioned. He just kept looking at me. Not wandering to the rain outside, not to the right or left of me but right at me with his man-pretty eyes. Better get a Real Life TiVo so I could record him being man-pretty.

Wait, this hadda be a trick. Drawn into the mysterious pull, the same thing a penguin being sucked into a whirlpool must feel. Trying to hypnotize me with his tear-shined blue things!! 'Life is more than blood' isn't so hard to deal with when you're a mind-bent tool! I needed that as much as I needed a smarmy VD, which is not at all.

Oh get off it. I wasn't 'hypnotized'. How lame was that. I was just a willing tool. He almost definitely owned me, how sad for me, so I'd better say good bye to my soul or something. Thrills! Spills! Chills! Seriously. Soul sucker. If only I had a soul to give, mumble grumble, blarg. Riiiight.

"When were smiling I realized—the things I went through, you were always there. A light that never went out, you never stopped calling for me. I broke out and tore faces so I could find you, Riku. I can remember some of these things. Only some…"

Umm… so, trying to make me feel bad…? My wrenching guts and his insipid face sent me mixed signals. Playing w/ heartstrings like it's cat's cradle is a bad thing.

The rain fell harder, but not loud enough to mute his words. Too bad because when he next asked me, 'can you remember making someone happy,' was it supposed to be pouring salt on the wound or not? Because it was. Not sprinkling, but pouring salt. I felt the difference. 'Saltier than a sea of tears' someone might say, before my knuckles say 'Hello' to their nose.

"You don't know how much you can make someone else do—just for your sake. You wanted me happy so you could be too, but unless you are…"

Gulp. I let out a small laugh, feeling relieved and definitely uneasy. This moment was horribly radtastic. Cue my blood-engorged facial capillaries, red and attractive as… an apple? No. A divine rose? No, more refined than that. Red like a baboon's ass. Still, even with what he just said, more like what he didn't, it didn't filter through the buzzing in my ears. I felt like a jerkoff for even thinking it, but did he mean what he was saying or was it more 'code' for something else?

'—unless you're [happy]', what could that have meant, if it meant anything besides what it was supposed to?

"… … …"

That was me. I said nothing. Remember well the sound of me saying that, for I'll never say it again out loud. There wasn't much I could think of to say, not enough words to thoroughly ask 'who, what, where' or 'why'. Not even enough brainpower to ponder 'who, what, where' or 'why'. A rainy sunset turning into a rainy night laced with lightning and all sorts of other danger can't be wholly translated to words—the same thing goes for having someone hold on to you during those times and say that you matter. Same thing goes for having a warmth in the chest gently fricasseeing my heart-thing. Same thing goes for feeding the guilty suspicious I had lurking about.

I had absolutely no 'big picture' of what the hell was going on, or any 'big' or 'picture' at all for that matter. What about Sora's heart? He shouldn't have been acting like this unless… And the thing out there behind the walls of rain. And that cold thing I'd felt on my neck, that stupid déjà vu thing from earlier. What was I gonna do, so many things left hanging. But I guess I hadda belly flop into the quicksand at some time. Get the acutely refreshing shock from the fact that it was inevitable I wouldn't find the answers to all my questions. Or even find questions to fit the answers I already had.

Wherever things were going, there they went—but these cotton-candied words weren't helping. Cavities, they were, in the dentures of my soul. I said 'dentures of my soul'! All this sissy-wis-boo-boo stuff was uncalled for.

"Riku?"

And his velvety timbre wasn't helping either. Damnation.

==========

AN: Hey peeps ( - - cool and up-to-date slang, Jigga), thanks for sticking around. I'd melt into a puddle of goo but I can't since I have a backbone. Chordate, as they say in Anthro. Hey, I loved that class. The name Homo erectus isn't funny, but Ardipithecus ramidus is, tee hee. Was I the only one that laughed when Prof. said 'Robust Australopithecine had sagittal crests and large teeth for heavy mastication'? Anyway, thanks for reading so far = )