Author's Notes: Very short chapters from here on out. Things are quickly drawing to a close.
I'm still reeling from all the praise! Holy wow. I blush, I really do. Thanks again, everyone. Also, check out the art gifts I've been given and comment on them! Links can be found in my profile. :D
Hereafter is June, in which we miss those who are gone and remember their influence.
"Good Enough"chapter ten- June
by: Rosalyn Angel
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It had been easy, the first couple of weeks. Surrounded by the sights, sounds, and smells of his beloved hometown, Axel was able to adjust. Things like colleges and dorms were pushed far back in his mind, and things like Roxas, his parents, and the rest of his friends took the forefront. Days passed like blurs with movies, outings, and video games—he didn't have the time to think of much else.
But every now and then, the memory of a certain someone flickered behind Axel's eyes. Something would remind him—it could be how a person moved, or an object, or bits of conversation. The memory would linger, and momentarily his smile would fall, until Pence or Hayner did something irresistibly funny and they'd all burst into laughter.
But it was later, when the initial thrill of being home wore off, when everything settled into a comfortable pace and they took to lazing around in the heat. It was when Axel walked home alone, not so exhausted from the day—when he looked up and saw the night sky, and when he looked into the mirror. It was when he lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, dotted in little plastic stars, that the memories would surface and assault him.
In the dark, Axel would stay up and remember. He'd roll around and close his eyes, but it took longer and longer to sleep. He'd end up staring at the ceiling once more with a dead gaze, listening to the clock tick, and a strange heaviness would fall across his entire body. After several hours, he'd drift to sleep without knowing, and he'd wake up the next day quiet and lethargic.
One night, he forced his body to move and grabbed his phone. His fingers felt weighted but he dialed the number—the ringing broke the silence.
It rang for a long time. Axel sat on the edge of his bed, dressed only in gray sweatpants, and waited.
The line on the other end was garbled, but Larxene's irate voice eventually came through: "Axel, what the hell? Just answer me that. Please. Then hang up and go to bed."
He glanced at the clock. It was almost three. Time sure flew. "Yeah, uh," he started dully, "I'm working on it."
"Then work on it harder. Good night."
"Hold on," he said quickly. "Just talk to me for a little bit. C'mon, I'll owe you one."
Larxene gave something between a growl and a sigh. "What is it?"
Axel's green eyes rose to the ceiling. One of the stars Roxas had stuck on it so long ago was falling off. "Nothing. Just thought I'd, yanno, call a good friend."
There was a short pause. "… It's about the kid, isn't it?"
Larxene's logic was often true and just, although blunt and painful. She had been the one to prompt Axel to do something about Riku before they left on summer break. She said things that needed to be said, even when others were too afraid to say them.
So he sighed and told her what happened upon his and Riku's parting, about how they wouldn't call each other in order to think things through, and this was her sage, wise, all-knowing response:
"You're a stupid shit."
Axel blinked slowly. "… That was uncalled for."
"Do you know how dumb that was? You're sulking and moping all over the place now. Brilliant, really. Only, what? Two months to go? Great plan, Einstein."
He turned defensive. "Hey, I have good reasons, all right?"
"Oh, like what? Distance makes the heart grow fonder?"
"No," he said, but kind of hoped that it would for once. "It's better than that. More important."
Axel would've bet money that Larxene rolled her eyes just then. "Apparently, you already have this all figured out. So you don't need me. Good ni—"
"Do you remember Sora?" he interrupted.
"Axel, I swear—"
He stood up from the bed and began to pace. Somewhere, deep in his core, he understood that he was talking more to himself than her. "I wanted Riku to make sure. That it was, yanno, actually because of me being me. Not just because I was the one there, and Sora wasn't. I mean, that makes sense, right? He gets to have an Axel-free summer and be around Sora, and he can think it through…"
Larxene huffed impatiently. "Has it crossed your mind that maybe you won't like the end result?"
Axel stopped abruptly and gazed at the room in front of him. It was dark, but he could make out some of the action figures posed on his desk. "Well," he said softly, "yeah. I just want him to really know first."
Honestly, it was for both of them. He didn't want a repeat of Roxas. The infatuation still had to be there, just as strong, even after so much time of so little contact. It couldn't slip away quietly, not like Roxas had. Axel wouldn't allow it. He had to see for himself, before it really started.
Axel flopped onto his bed with a groan. It bounced and squeaked.
A drawn-out yawn rang through the earpiece. "You care for the kid a lot, don't you? Enough to let him figure things out on his own."
The blankets muffled Axel's affirmative reply.
"Well, I guess you deserve some credit for trying, then."
He smirked humorlessly. "But I'm still a stupid shit?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely."
He buried his face into the pillows.
As usual, Larxene was probably right.
Nothing had changed. When Riku had walked to the door, luggage in hand, he had looked around. The grass was still evenly trimmed and green. The mailbox was still white and wooden. The porch was still lit, as it always was at night, and the curtains were drawn closed. Inside the house was dark—Sephiroth slept early and woke early, something he had managed to ingrain into his son.
Riku had opened the door, brought his things inside, turned on some lights, and went about the task of settling into his home once more. The refrigerator was stocked with the same food, his father still used a note to welcome him back, and his room was exactly as he had left it.
He wasn't exactly sure what he had expected. He'd spent this summer like he did all the rest—seeing Sora when he could, being courteous with his father, and waiting for the semester to roll around so he could leave again for campus. There was no reason to do otherwise.
But sometimes Riku would sit on his bed and flip his cell phone open and shut. The little screen would glow blue on his face, illuminating the numbers, but no matter how long he'd stare at it, it'd never ring.
He saw Sora more often during the summer, along with other friends that had returned. Tidus and Selphie came back from their colleges, but Wakka had a job in another city, so he sent e-mails wishing them well.
Sora still had his big blue eyes and wild brown hair, and he still had to climb onto a chair to be taller. He smiled widely at Riku and took Kairi's hand as they all walked to the movies with him in the middle. Riku watched them swing their joined hands back and forth as they laughed, while he stuck his own into his pockets.
Sora and Kairi were good together, and it still hurt.
Nothing had changed.
The weather grew hotter with each passing day. Sora wore his stupid shorts, Kairi wore her cute skirts, and Riku keep wearing his baggy jeans. Some days it was so stuffy and humid that they all stayed home with a television to keep them company.
Riku lounged on the couch and flipped through channels, but nothing caught his interest—he wasn't really paying much attention to it. The air conditioner was set to high. Although inside the temperature was cold, the humidity seemed to permeate the room, making him feel slow and tired. He always did prefer winter to summer.
Sighing, he shut the T.V. off and slouched into the cushions. His cell phone sat on the glass coffee table, motionless and quiet. His gaze repeatedly flickered to it.
Sephiroth was at work and wouldn't be home for several hours. The house was large and empty—if Riku bothered to talk out loud, he'd probably hear an echo. Sora liked hearing that echo.
Riku glanced at his phone again.
He wasn't sure why he kept it with him wherever he went, even to the kitchen to grab a snack. Maybe someone would call. He didn't want to miss it if they did. It might be Tidus, or Cloud, or Sora, or even—
He was looking out the sink window and washing the dishes when he thought of it. The words came unbidden into his mind, sliding in when he least expected:
Cold milk on a hot summer day. I'm thankful for that. But ice cream was better, because it was frozen and milk wasn't.
Riku shook his head. He looked out the window again, saw the grass being watered—
Sprinklers are for the grass, and for running through.
Later, when Sephiroth came home to see his son standing in his swimsuit near the sprinklers, he blamed it on the heat. They stood and stared at each other, until Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, cleared his throat, and told Riku to not track water into the house.
Slowly, other instances occurred. Riku would be going about his normal way: Sora would be with him, they'd be hanging out, and a thought would grow in his head about a Christmas play or something irrelevant. One day he bought a Nobodies CD on a whim, and soon after that he purchased a gift for Father's Day with relative ease. Another day he was with Sora and Kairi at the mall, and Kairi mentioned getting new undergarments. A laugh bubbled up in Riku's throat without his intention and they glanced at him curiously, but he only waved a dismissive hand and said it was nothing.
One night he sat on the couch, sketchbook on his lap. Riku had been practicing almost everyday—the pages were filled with rough outlines. Drawing calmed and relaxed him, and also freed his mind.
A shadow fell across him. He tilted his head back and saw his father towering over him, the elder's eyes studying the page. Various positions and angles of hands were displayed in sketchy detail.
Sephiroth appeared thoughtful. He looked at the drawings for a moment longer, then nodded and simply said, "Those are good," and walked away.
Late in the month, Sora, Kairi, Tidus and Riku sat in Wendy's with their ordered food. The table was small and square—on one side sat the happy couple, while on the other were Tidus and Riku. Tables around them were mostly vacant.
Sora and Tidus were talking about some sport game that Riku hadn't watched. He was more concerned with the watery soda in his cup, anyway.
"Aw, man," Tidus crowed, devouring a fat fry, "it was like WHAM. He went down so quick. It was crazy."
Kairi sipped at her soda, unconsciously chewing on the straw. Some of her pink lipstick was smeared on it. "I don't know how you guys can watch that stuff. It looks so boring."
"Some of it is," Sora admitted as he unwrapped his cheeseburger and took an enormous bite. "But it's great when—"
"Sora! Would you at least chew and swallow before you talk?"
Tidus answered for the brunet by sticking out his tongue and revealing the remains of his fry. Kairi held up her hands to block the view and proclaimed how gross it was.
That was when Riku tried his drink. His face almost mirrored Kairi's right then.
They call it a suicide for a reason.
"Like watered down Coke," he murmured. Maybe he had mixed it wrong.
"Huh?" Sora said, blinking at his best friend. "What is it?"
Riku looked up and saw everyone watching him. "Uh, it's nothing."
"Speaking of nothing," Tidus cut in, drawing their attention, "there's nothing to do here! I never knew home was so boring till I left for the inner city. You guys know what I mean?"
Sora shrugged. "I guess. What do you think, Riku?"
Their eyes shifted to him again—Tidus with his light blues; Kairi with her innocent gaze; and Sora with his wide, happy ones.
And for a moment, Riku imagined a bright, sharp green.
"Well," he started quietly, "I heard once that life is as exciting as you make it."
Tidus cocked his blond head to the side. "Uh… all right."
"I think that's a good philosophy," Kairi said, nodding sagely.
Sora's eyes didn't move from him; the look in them was indiscriminate. Riku returned to his ruined soda as the conversation took another turn.
Sora wasn't as oblivious as most people thought.
-June, end