Note: I actually have been wanting to bring Ansem in this story since Runaway because I am the only person in the history or forever who actually liked him. So, obviously that's KH1!Ansem and not KH2!Blondie!Ansem. But really, I don't think it matters too much which one you see him as. It may become obvious later (because as you know, I'm such a glutton for description… ha ha) but I doubt it. Really, he's probably OOC no matter what.
Note 2: Happy (belated?) birthday!! You rock for always reviewing my fics and being so nice. Too bad this chapter isn't happier. XD

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Chapter 26
(Riku's POV)

Sora left for camp earlier this morning. I suppose I should have went with him, to see him off, but it's a three hour drive there and back and I wouldn't have had the time to "relax" before my class starts.

But it doesn't matter now as I slowly file in, supplies in hand. I suppose the only thing worse than going to school during summer is going to school during summer willingly and showing up as early as I do.

Who cares.

The teacher pays no mind as I walk in, only speaking up when I choose a seat toward the back of the class.

"You're the only one here now so you may as well sit in the front." Hesitantly, I obey. I mean, what the hell…

I wish I could remember his name, as it's only been on every sign-up sheet I've turned in in the past three months. Mister… no, it was Professor. (What a hotshot.) Professor… Ansem. That's it. "Name?"

"…Huh?"

"Your name."

"Oh. It's Imakura. Riku."

"You're here early, Riku." I shrug. He's giving me a slight case of the creeps. His deep voice is incredibly bored as he files through papers and even as he talks to me, he doesn't really talk to me. When he does finally look up at me, his eyes are hard. He's the kind of guy I'd feel threatened by if I were still a runaway.

I soon figure out exactly what kind of class this is going to be. The first thing we do is take a test to see how much we "remember". But it's not so much that that's weird as the way he talks to us when he's distributing the question papers.

"Professor?" Some kid in the back calls out. "Do you want us to write down the answers--"

"No, I want you to dance out the answers." The class falls into a dead silence until some people find it safe to laugh. "I will be passing out a scantron sheet, bubble in the letters as you normally would. Keep inside the bubble, erase completely, no scribbling like a three-year-old or else your answer will be marked wrong."

The test is simple and I finish shortly. But no sooner do I finish than we move on to another project. Here, we each have our own prompt and we have to write two pages based on a sentence. Some dumb girl asks, "Do you want us to write in pen?"

He doesn't miss a beat, replying with, "If you have a pen, use it. If you don't, pencil is more preferable than blood, and the use of urine is frowned upon." But his voice is dry and he doesn't crack the slightest bit of a smile.

Actually, I think I kind of like this guy.

If nothing else, this class will certainly be interesting.

Later in the week we get our test results and our essays back. I'm completely unsurprised that I did well on both, really. Except that on the top of my essay, in red ink, he's written: You really like semi-colons, don't you?

Point taken.

At four, when class is out, Ansem calls me over just as people are leaving.

"Yeah?" I ask, no longer accustomed to addressing adults as 'sir' or 'ma'am'. It's not quite normal to do that here, even if it was normal in Darry. Here, no pushy adults will correct me, no harsh reminders whispered through clenched teeth.

"Sit." …Okay, this isn't good. (What did I do?) I pull a chair over to his desk and sit, waiting impatiently as he leafs through some papers, still really not focusing on me.

"…Yeah?" I ask again.

"Are you considering writing something for this year's national short story contest?"

"…Huh?" The question catches me off-guard. I was expecting… I don't know. Certainly not this. "No… I wasn't aware of it."

"It's a pretty prestigious contest. It runs every year, and it's open to children ranging from ages eight to eighteen, all over the country. The winners receivefairly decent prizes… anything from cash to college scholarships."

"Okay…?" Only now does he look up at me from his work.

"You should enter." He says.

"What?"

"You're a talented writer. You're very advanced for your age. I teach year around, and not just for specialized writing courses such as these, but… I dare say that your essays are some of the few that don't make me cringe." And he's back to work, as I sit here just staring at him. "… You may leave."

"Oh. …And thanks. I'll… I'll take it into consideration."

--

I'm in a good mood on the bus ride back to Mr. Hart's, though I'm not one-hundred percent sure why. My class is full of some talented teens, but being the one who gets pulled aside for something like this is pretty damn cool. I guess you could say I'm a glutton for being complimented. You wouldn't be too far off.

The phone rings almost as soon as I enter the house, so I pick it up. "Hello?"

"This Riku?"

"Yeah."

"Come over. Right now."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

"I'll be there."

I leave a note for Mr. Hart telling him that I'm leaving and head off.

I should be able to celebrate, after all.

--

Well.

I don't know how Axel weaseled me into this club or why I agreed to go. This isn't my kind of place. Too many bright lights and loud sounds and sweaty, slutty, drunken people. But Axel seems to be right at home here and I figure I may as well make the best of it, because I'm stuck until he decides to leave. Oh well. At least there's a lot of alcohol and I'm sure someone has a few joints to spare.

I push my way through the crowd to the bar. The bartender's busy so I wait out my turn, searching for some money in my pockets.

…Okay, no money. I could have sworn I left with at least $20.Damn it. I'll have to bum off Axel, but at least that'll make us even. He's borrowed money from me more times that I can count in the months that I've known him. I jump when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Is anyone sitting here?"

"No." The guy who takes the seat next to me is staring at me for some time as I ignore him. When the bartender finally finishes with everyone else, that guy buys me a drink. Okay, maybe this won't be so bad. I actually like the attention he's giving me, even though he's got to be at least twice my age. He's most likely older than Nathan.

Two drinks later and he's got his arm around me. He doesn't look bad for his age, whatever that may be.

"Dance with me," He says, an invitation that comes out as a demand.

"Yes." I answer.

Maybe I had more to drink during the night than I had initially thought. This guy and I have been dancing for only God knows how long now. It's gotta be the alcohol, but I've never been so fucking horny.He's got me all but pushed against the wall, not so much dancing as he is rubbing and grinding and pressing himself against me. I wrap my arms around him, close my eyes and just… go with it.

Eventually Axel hunts me down and tears me away because he wants to go home. Butdamn I'm too awake and alert and excited. I am wasted. So much, in fact, that when I say I'm going back to Mr. Hart's, he actually drags me back to his couch and just tells me to sit. He locks his door and in my stupor I can't figure out unlock it.

Maybe it's best I crash here for the night after all. At least for a little while.

-

Shit.Shit. I didn't really mean to spend the night. It's 11AM and I'm scrambling to get up, to shake off my hangover, to figure out exactly what day it is. Did I miss class?

No, no. It's Saturday. No class today. Crap. When does the next bus leave? Ugh, it doesn't matter. I have no money. Oh well-- at least if I walk I can clear my head a little.

The cool air is always welcome; it helps me calm down a bit. I don't know why I got so worked up. And I hate to admit it, but the dull headache and utter exhaustion are completely worth it. I had fun last night, and with Sora gone I really haven't been having that much fun. And really, even when Sora is around…

Well, I figure I at least deserve it to make up for every night I've spent studying.

When I get back, it looks likes Mr. Hart hasn't been here long, either.

I don't think he has any idea that I was out all night.

"Hey!" He says once he notices me. "Where were you all morning?" But he sounds friendly, cheerful. As always.

"Just walking around." Because it's only a half-lie.

"You were out late last night."

"…Yeah." And here is where the accusations come pouring in…

"Next time… just call me, okay? So I know everything's alright."

"…Yeah. Okay." He smiles, pulling out a chair.

"Great. Sit-- are you hungry? I got eggs at the store yesterday."

And thus the day begins as normal.

God… what a huge relief.

But for some reason… I don't know. I'm just slightly disappointed that he didn't realize that I'm lying, that he's handling this situation so calmly. What's wrong with me? Am I really getting that attention-starved?

"I'm not hungry." I mutter, taking the seat he's offered me.

"How've your classes been?" He asks, taking a slice of toast from the plate in front of him.

I shrug. "Fine."

He looks at me and smiles. "Just 'fine'?" I shrug and slide down in my seat a little. After all this time it's more of a bored habit than a nervous one.

"Yeah. The work's hard and the teacher's nuts, but I like it." He reaches out to put his hand over mine then abruptly stops. He's been like that ever since I blew up at him in December. Honestly, I'm just surprised that he respected my boundaries at all, let alone keeping it up for six months.

Jesus Christ. I've been here for more than half a year now… I've known Sora for over a year…

"I'm glad these classes are working for you," Mr. Hart says suddenly. I jump and sit back up at the sound. "It'll look good when you apply for college as well-- making up for some of the time in school you lost when…" He trails off. He never just says it, or even talks to me about it. Regardless, I agree with him. We fall into a short silence before Mr. Hart absently says, "It's quiet without Sora." Then I really notice… it is.

No one's running up or stomping down the stairs, no one's playing music or typing on the computer or laughing on the phone. It's almost eerie. How was Mr. Hart ever able to live here on his own? It would be too empty, even for me. "I'm going out with Sandy. Will you be fine here alone?" I always have been. He smiles, standing up. Before he leaves, he tells me that Sora wrote from camp. The letter is on the table.

I pick it up and just… look at it for a moment before reading.

Dear Dad and Riku,

I'm having a lot of fun-- my 'roommates' are really cool. I hope everything's going well over there. Smiley face, heart. Love, Sora

How generic. I toss it on the table and start upstairs. When I reach my room I dig under the bed a little. Probably not the best secret spot, I know I'll have to move everything soon… but for now here's my nice little stash, in a corner tucked in a book under the bed. Axel gave me a shitload of stuff so I won't have to go over to his apartment every time I want to get high and I was never really able to decide whether that was just his own little token of kindness or his way of telling me to back off. But he still calls me up to invite me over, so…

…I don't know. But either way it works out for me. I just go out on the balcony and smoke pot until every problem in my life, no matter what the size… just… doesn't seem to matter at all.

I wouldn't call myself an addict, really. I don't really feel dependant, I haven't started craving it or what have you. It's not really disrupting my life or anything, not really… I've showed up here shitfaced before, but the only time Sora ever noticed was when I was extremely drunk, which is just as well because what he doesn't know can't hurt him and he'll freak if he finds out. Zakku's been fucking naggy, though, telling me that I should quit because I can kill myself doing this. Yeah, I knowit's unhealthy and really I don't care. When did he decide that it's suddenly alright to care? Seriously, bite me.

But whatever. It's okay, it doesn't matter. I feel way too good right now to worry about any of that shit.

I curl up and sleep, feeling the sun warm my skin and the wind blow through my hair and clothes. Happy.

-

Classes run normally until one day that I'm incredibly late. I'm almost worried that by the time I get there, it will have ended. Shit. I was out all night last night, and that's not like me. Usually it's just weekends, but occasionally I'll just do something small on a week night… then the one day before school when we of course had the drug tests…

I'm in deep, deep shit.

When I finally arrive, Ansem takes one look at the clock and tells me that I didn't even need to bother showing up.

And the worst part is… I know.

And then I still do it again.

I sneak into the club once more, Axel ditching me immediately to go find some of his closer friends. Whatever. I scan the place, looking for that guy that has danced with me almost every time I've come, but I've all but given up when I feel a tug at my hair. Not a painful one, but enough to get me to turn around. It's him. We wordlessly sit at the bar and he keeps loading me up with more drinks until we're too restless to sit anymore, have to get up, have to do something.

"Hey," I ask a long overdue question. My words are incredibly slurred, even to my own ears, and I'll be surprised if he understands me. "Uh… Mister…what's your--?" And he grins, running a hand over my scalp, through my hair, down my neck. I involuntarily shiver.

"Just 'Mister'. I like that." He presses himself against me and I realize I've pretty much been pinned to the wall again. Tonight I feel like I'm going to be physically ill at the contact. "And you're Cat Ears."

"…What…?" He grins again.

"Halloween. I was talking to the guy passing the pumpkins to throw. I remember you. You were wearing cat ears." …I knew that would come back to haunt me. Damn it, Selphie. I shift embarrassedly, trying not to show how awkward I feel. He presses himself closer, voice low, talking in my ear. "I thought it was cute."

"…Oh." As if that makes it any better… But, actually, it kind of does. "Really?"

"Yeah, I did. I couldn't take my eyes off you." I shift and shudder, looking away. He grabs my face--gently, yeah, but still grabbing-- and tilts my chin up. For a moment, I'm horrified he's going to kiss me. Usually the alcohol calms me, but tonight I'm really hypersensitive. Maybe it's the pot I smoked earlier…? Either way, he doesn't kiss me but he keeps his face real close to my face. I wrap my arms around him, grip tightening every time his hips brush against mine.

"God…" I mutter.

"Come home with me." He says, suddenly.

Even in my complete drunken stupor I can still give him my best 'you're stupid' look, "Are you kidding me?"

He's unfazed. "No." I shake my head.

"Not tonight." Not ever. No. Even though it would be kind of…

No. I have a boyfriend. I couldn't ever… I shake my head again and sigh. Now that I'm actually having to talk myself out of sleeping with a total stranger, I know I should get Axel and go. "I should really get going…"

"No…"

"Yeah…" I never realized how close we was holding me until he lets go, and I'm actually surprised when he lets me pass. But before I'm totally gone he grabs my wrist and yanks me back. It startles me so my, "What?" is probably more scared-sounding than it would've been if I hadn't had like, fourteen beers.

"You're coming here tomorrow, right…?"

"Yeah." Even though tomorrow's Sunday. That's fine. I can be a little late to class again.

He lets go. "I'll be looking forward to it." I nod shyly, my stomach now filled with butterflies.

I don't wonder why; I just go and try to find Axel.

--

Oddly enough, I'm not hung over the next morning. Maybe I'm developing an immunity or something. This is the last weekend where Sora's away at camp. I don't know if I'll to start going out less, stop using so much, when Sora comes back. I'd have to be more careful… Heroin before school was not a good idea. But I suppose I'm entitled to do something stupid once in a while. I just can't make it a habit. I bet Zakku still has my results sheet… I never took it back. It's been a month, hopefully he threw it out.

The phone rings, and I'm the only one here to answer it. Mr. Hart is gone all the time, and it's almost like when I first lived here, before we started school.
Except that Sora's not here, either.

If I weren't used to having a house to myself, I'd say it's kind of lonely.

I finally make my way downstairs and pick up the phone.

Speak of the devil…

"What do you want, Zakku?"

"I just wanted to know how you're doing." He sounds so casual, so ho-hum that I can picture him sitting on the counter, shrugging at his reply. I shove my free hand deep into a pocket.

"Fine. Is that all?"

"You still using?" I wouldn't be surprised if the phone snapped in half with how tightly I'm holding it now. I hate the way he says it. Hate that he asks.

"Yeah."

"Don't bite my head off-- I just…" He pauses, drawing in a loud, steady breath. "I worry about you, I guess."

"Well, don't."

"I know I'm nosy. I'm sorry." I shrug now, not caring that he can't see me. "It's just… …Hey, are you still here?"

"I am."

There's an awkward silence before he embarrassedly adds, "Look, if you ever need to talk or anything… I'm here, okay?"

"Yeah. Whatever."

"I just want you to know that I… uh… I really do care. You know that."

"Yeah. …Whatever. I gotta go."

"Oh. Alright. I'll talk to you later then?"

"Sure." And I hang up from this painful conversation.

God, Zakku.

You picked the wrong time to decide to care.

-

I can't believe it, but I'm actually kind of anxious that Sora will be back from camp soon. Yeah, I've been busy with my own stuff but after being late to class a few more times, I'm not going out so much anymore. I'll save it for August or something. But skipping the parties really doesn't allow me to be too… social, I suppose.

Okay, so I'm a little bit lonely.

Just a little bit lonely to the point that I'm getting to classes even earlier, finding reasons to miss the bus in the afternoon.

Mr. Hart isn't ever around anymore. I'm sick of always being left by myself.

"Riku, why are you avoiding going home?" Ansem asks one day, looking up a bit from a paper he's grading.

"I'm not." I still shudder at the word 'home'. Involuntary reaction. "It's just…" I drop it right there. Hell, he didn't ask for that much information, so why give it to him?

"Just what?" Shit, he was really listening? He couldn't look more bored if he tried.

"You know. No one's there in the afternoon. It gets boring."

"So you hang around school all day with an old man?" He looks up, finally, not hiding the amusement in his voice or on his face.

"…I missed the bus." I retort weakly, looking away.

"Uh huh." Shrugging, I dig my hands deep into my pockets. "Riku, go home." I look up at him and nod, and leave without saying another word.

I visit Zakku. It's a long, long walk and I could have been back at Mr. Hart's house a long time ago by the time I've reached the apartment. If you're not home, you jerk… I knock then knock again, and this time I hear some sort of movement coming from behind the door.

Well. He's not out, then.

"Riku?" He always sounds surprised to see me, as if I'm some long-lost relative returning home after ten years or what have you.

"Hey."

"Hey! Come in!" He ushers me inside. "Make yourself at home. You caught me just in time." I sit on the small couch, feeling oddly uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry for just dropping in like this."

He smiles, putting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. "It's okay. I don't mind."

"…Yeah."

"But… I was just going to the store to pick up something. You can hang around here until I get back, if you want."

So again I'm left all alone. I shouldn't snoop around his place, I really shouldn't… but I do. Everything is spotless, in its little place. I glance into what must be his bedroom. It's frighteningly similar to his room at his house in Darry, if not shrunken down a bit: his twin bed in the center of the far wall with a chair in one corner and a tiny desk at the other. Shelves aligning the otherwise empty walls. I can't help but note the pictures of Trace and his other friends on his desk and what I think is a box of condoms sitting innocently on his laptop.

Gross. But at least he won't be bringing any demon spawn onto this planet. I sit back on the couch, feeling so out of place that it's not even funny. I jump when the door flies open about twenty minutes later. When he looks at me he gives me that now all-too-familiar smile.

"Good, you're still here."

"Yeah." I reply. "But… I guess I should go."

"What? Why?" He's just as confused as I am. Really, why did I come here in the first place?

"Thanks for letting me stay."

"Anytime." He says, dropping his paper bag on the counter and rushing to the door, handing me a sheet of paper before I leave. "You can have your drug results back."

"What the hell? You kept this?"

He ignores my commentary. "I think you should show it to your…" He struggles for a word before deciding on "guardian." He sighs. "I know I'm not your mommy. But I just… you know. Think about it."

"It's the right thing to do." I remark dully.

"It is." Zakku agrees. Taking care of Sora, studying, behaving… well enough, generally. I'm sick of doing the right thing. I push his hand off my shoulder and turn, walking out.

I still have the paper, even though I should just trash it.

What to do, what to do.

I tuck it in that same book, way in the back. Maybe I'll forget about it and never think of it again. Oops. Silly mistake. Laugh it off.

Or something.

Well, since I'm already up here… that book is right in front of me…

it's three hours until Mr. Hart comes back. I know exactly what I'm doing with that time.

And I don't care if it's wrong or right.

Not anymore.