My Oh My

'Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit'

When Leon came back at sat down at the table, Cloud began.

x x x

Once upon a time, there was a kid. He was a nice kind of kid, a little quiet, but a nice kid all the same. He'd moved around a lot in his little six years of existence and he wasn't very skilled when it came to making friends. He was horrible at soccer, he couldn't dribble a basketball to save his life, he couldn't draw, play piano, ski, or ride a bike like any of the other kids. To put it bluntly, the boy wore the Velcro-strap sneakers of an outcast and they weren't about to come off any time soon.

Whenever he found out they were moving, he'd always get foolishly excited, bouncing cheerfully around the house nonstop until the promised moving day where they'd all pack into a van, him, his mom and his dad, and all head off to some bright new world where there was always the hope of doing things right that time around. He could save up some of his lunch money to buy a bike and get some nice kid to teach him how to ride it. That was his dream, and to his six-year-old eyes, it was such a bright and happy dream that there was no resisting it.

His family wasn't exactly poor. They'd first started showing up around here after they'd lived in China for a while, where the kid was born. He spoke Chinese fluently, just like his parents. He had a long, complicated, but nonetheless beautiful name. His penmanship with characters was passable and he was proud of his heritage. But time took its toll, and people in general wore the family down. People sometimes wear everyone down and they don't even know they're doing it.

They couldn't pronounce the last name, so they shortened it.

They couldn't pronounce the boy's name, so they shortened that too.

But he wanted so badly to be accepted that he didn't seem to mind. He would smile and laugh along with all the other children, even if he really didn't know what they were all laughing about in the first place. Sometimes it only made him look even more foolish, and he couldn't understand why, for a child who isn't taught at an early age the difference between meanness and kindness will carry that lack of knowledge with them for the rest of their life.

Such was the case with this boy.

Sure, he knew what was right and wrong. He knew so because his parents told him so. His father, on the rare occasions that he appeared at home when the boy was awake, would set the boy on his lap and tell him everything he knew of the world and its mysterious workings. This wasn't exactly all that much, for while they moved around a great deal, the boy's father was not very intelligent, but he did his best and for that no one could ask any more of him. The boy's mother would sweetly explain the golden rule to her son as she understood it, slicing peppers and stirring noodles while she talked to her boy at her side.

"What is right is what feels good to you. If it feels good to you, you should do the same for other people, for it is what is right and good in the world."

His mother and father were both beautiful and handsome, respectively, and though their son seemed to somehow miss out on their attractive genes, they loved him dearly all the same. With his mother's flawless olive skin and delicately almond-shaped eyes and his father's soft black hair and perfect teeth, they more than made up for their slightly less-than-average-looking son. And even though he had no friends and even though they were not rich, the little boy was happy just belong with his mother and father who could teach him what they knew.

Then there came that fateful day which changed the boy's life forever.

The local carnival was in town and the boy's parents had saved up a small fortune (by their terms) with which to take the boy to the fair and give him the best evening of his young life. And by all standards, it was just that. The carnival was spectacular, the kind you can only find in the sweet countryside town lying amidst nothing at all. That kind of sort of paradise of lights and wheels and screams and thrills, of cotton candy, snow cones, and prizes for the slightest thing at all.

It was a stray bumper car that did them in. The boy would never forget the tragedy, watching as his parents walked on ahead, hands clasped so lovingly together and exchanging that proud glance of parents who have done well by their only child. And in the next instant the wooden guard rail was broken, the cables were snapping, and there was a thunk, a chunk, and that, as they say, was that.

Being the amazingly resilient boy he was, it only took him two days to begin to speak again, though it was in clipped words and halting phrases, almost all of it coming out in his native tongue which greatly perplexed his aunt and uncle, whom he came to live with following his parents' unfortunate death. They lived in a house which sat in the woods which sat by the creek which ran through a town he'd never heard of in a place he'd never been.

And just like that he was alone. His newfound guardians preferred to stay out with friends rather than spend time with their nephew. He didn't know how to go about making friends. He didn't know how to go about living in one place, speaking one language, but most of all, he could not understand the society he found himself surrounded by. Elderly people, deeply embittered by bankruptcy, jaded by jealousy, greed, and basic modern human nature- these were his neighbors and his accquaintences.

For a child who grew up in a place where money was never spoken of and never directly viewed as either a blessing or a curse, the boy could have no opinion of it and he could have no understanding of those who did have an opinion of it. And those who did indeed have an opinion, an obsession with it, they could understand him no better.

Day by day, the boy spent his time indoors, making up all the fairytale stories of adventure and happiness that awaited him. All he had to do was wait just a little longer, he kept telling himself. Just a little longer and I won't have to be here anymore. I won't have to live with them. I won't have to talk about things I don't understand and I won't have to pretend I understand them.

And day by day, as he grew more and more lonely, the boy, however unknowingly, began to realize something about himself and the world around him. It was something his parents had not told him, for when they'd passed away, they themselves had yet to learn it. It was something that his aunt and uncle did not know then and would never grow to know in their entire lifetime. And yet it was something so simple and so obvious that one would think the entire world would come to understand, to know, and to acknowledge the one simple fact that the boy learned in his solitude.

And that was that children, by the sheer act of wishing and dreaming, are capable of gaining anything they desire. By being thrown into such loneliness, the boy unconsciously opened a series of doors, unlocked a series of padlocks, and let loose the very thing that many parents try so hard to keep bottled up within their children. That rampant ability of make-believe that boggles minds and sparks life, that very simple little thing that could very simply be called 'imagination.'

But it wasn't just like that.

Through his loneliness, the boy was so desperate for friends and company- for anyone who truly loved him- that he created them. And he did so with a child's mind, and he smiled with a child's mouth, but his realization of them and his belief in them was very much adult in every sense of the word. And that was why they were real. They were real and true as anything else in this world, as trees, rivers, deer, and fish. They had blood and they had muscle, flesh, organs, hearts and minds, thoughts and feelings, and though he would never admit it himself, the boy was a genius.

He grew older in that house, no longer a boy, but a young man. And still he believed and still he had faith, thus they stayed with him. They stayed real because they were real, because their creator loved them and because they loved him in return for making them as they were. And when the time came for him to leave, for he'd learned as much as he could about unworldly things like algebra, physics, chemistry, and biology, they begged him not to go.

'Please, please,' they cried. 'What shall become of us if you abandon us now? What if we cease to exist? What if you forget us and we never see you again?'

But the young man smiled and shook his head. Just once. He told them they would stay because he believed, because his belief would never leave him, no matter the years that passed over his body. He told them they would be safe there, in that house where he'd spent his lonely childhood, dreaming, imagining, and eventually creating. And he assured them that if they needed him or if he needed them, there would never be anything to keep them apart, for they were his light and he was theirs in return.

And then the young man left.

And though they waited with baited breath, he never returned to the house again.

x x x

"Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Tigi? Anything at all, really!"

Yuffie had probably been zipping around the hospital room since she arrived that morning. Irvine couldn't really tell if it was the small coffee he'd given her to keep her awake or if it was simply some sort of subconscious nervousness that kept her wired for so long. Personally, Irvine didn't care. She'd been tucking in sheets, fluffing pillows, folding socks, and ringing off the list of questions left and right since she set foot in the door.

Mr. Tigi didn't seem to mind.

He simply smiled his own toothy smile and shook his head, the foam pillow beneath him stifling the movement to little more than a quiver of his skull. Yuffie still got the message and she tried to stay still, but her toes wiggled and her arms crossed and uncrossed...

By now you're confused.

I believe a recap is in order.

Alright.

Shortly after getting her call from Irvine and staring at the wall opposite her in shock (precisely one minute after getting the call from Irvine, as a matter of fact), Yuffie had frantically asked what was wrong, where they were, and what she could do. The answers were as follows.

"I don't know if there's much you can do, but you can come here if you want."

"We're at Destati Memorial Hospital, just off the highway, yanno, like when you're heading south."

"I don't think anyone's really certain what happened yet. He just fell over and stopped breathing. Maybe a stroke or something, but they don't know. Everyone here's confused, lame, or too stupid to know the difference between a pair of pliers and a thermometer."

"Can you get over here?"

"...Now?"

And she did. Yuffie was dressed in two blinks of an eye and running around searching for her car keys, but gave up after five minutes and just started jogging. She didn't know why. There was some sort of urgency in her blood and some sort of pressure in the back of her mind that told her very calmly but very firmly, "No, give up, move on, let's go." In that order, with that efficiency.

Yuffie had no choice but to go, in other words.

The town was dull and quiet in the dead of night, moonlight playing off the leaves as they flicked to and fro in the soft breeze. Yuffie's sneakers slapped against the concrete, the hood of her sweater slapped against her back, and her heart was somehow managing not to slap and not to scream because the same urgency that had driven her out of her apartment was the same urgency that veiled her entire body, focusing it towards the one purpose of getting to the hospital as fast as possible.

And yet the strangest thing happened...

"...I think a good book would be just fine, Miss Yuffie. Just a nice, nice book, I think."

Sorry, we had to take a break from the recap for a moment.

"I'll find you a great book, Mr. Tigi. I promise. I'll go to the bookstore right after work and I'll find you the perfect one, okay?" Yuffie nodded her head up and down eagerly, her short black hair flipping about her face as she did so.

"The bookstore..." Mr. Tigi's voice took on a quiet fondness as his fingertips brushed back and forth against the sterilized blanket covering him. "The last time I went there, I was confused. There were only three people in the entire store... ah, nevermind. Nevermind, nevermind. It is nothing."

The room smelled of Lysol and detergent.

"No, really, what is it?"

The hallways were silent and felt like the dead.

"It is nothing. Thank you, Miss Yuffie, for your kindness."

And Yuffie simply smiled and nodded again, then shook her head, then nodded again. She couldn't decide which was truly appropriate, so she made up for it by simply doing both.

"No problem!"

"Yeah, I mean, Yuffie and I are practically your kids anyway, right?" Irvine chimed in from across the room, where he stood leaning against the wall with him arms crossed contemplatively over his chest. "Without you, Tigi, we'd be starving on the streets and homeless."

"Yes, yes. My children, hm? Hahaha. Hoo... if I had ever had children, I do wish they be as good as you. I do wish."

But the recap. Now where was I?

As Yuffie ran down the streets, she saw in the distance a single globe of light drawing nearer and nearer. It turned out, in fact, to be a motorcycle, puttering along with a deep and mellow hum. She would later wonder what compelled her to trust the motorcyclist. She would later wonder what compelled the motorcyclist to trust her. But either way, she would later assume that it was some sort of fortune, some sort of twisted swing of chance, luck, and fate that made it Larxene who hid behind her own helmet that night.

And though Yuffie wouldn't know who that cyclist was for some time, Larxene would know. And she herself would wonder about it when she found herself bored or alone. Amidst everything else, it seemed, there was always Fate, always willing to rear its head, ugly or beautiful, mystical or mundane- simply depending on whatever mood had hit it that day.

Yuffie had hitched a ride on the back of a motorcycle and made it to the hospital after all. And that is your recap, ladies and gentlemen.

x x x

Cloud had curled up in an empty soap dish, several clean tissues draped over his little body as lightweight blankets. When Leon woke up, the first thing he saw was this tiny figure sleeping peacefully beside him, the makeshift bed set up on his own bedside table, right alongside his alarm clock. ...It was then that Leon sadly came to the conclusion that the previous night had not, in fact, been a horrible dream as he'd hoped.

"Cloud...?" Leon tried whispering into the air, the voice ghosting past his lips, the breath just rustling the little tissues enough to stir the sleeping creature beneath. With several slow and testing beats of his wings, Cloud sat up and stretched, tiny arms above his tiny head, hair even more disarrayed than usual. He shot Leon a smile and Leon blinked. He greeted Leon with a, 'Good morning!' and Leon stared.

Finally Leon said, "I still don't get it."

"What don't you understand?"

"Everything. Like why you're here."

Mouth puckering into a soft frown, Cloud's fingers absently pulled at a loose fiber in his worn vest, head cocking to one side as he thought to himself. Thinking seemed to be something that Cloud did a thorough job of when he chose to engage in such a process, so by the time he responded, Leon had almost forgotten he'd inquired about anything at all in the first place.

"I'm here to give back what you've all lost."

"Where'd it go? What was it?"

"It's a lot of things. It's different for everyone. Sometimes it's very far away and very hard to reach out and grasp. Sometimes it's very close. But you humans don't seem to understand it."

"...Um..."

Cloud shot Leon a toothy grin, teeth perfect and white, sparkling in his mouth as he said, "Are ay kay?"

Leon groaned, throwing a pillow over his face and giving up. His sanity had left him. Nothing left to do but crawl under a pillow. Just like a kid in an igloo, a bear in den. Crawl back under your rock, Leon, you can't handle the world. You never could and you never will be able to. Surrender!

"What does it stand for?" came Cloud's little bell-chimed voice. A distant prickling at his arm alerted Leon of the disturbing fact that Cloud had somehow managed to wriggle under the pillow with him. Bizarre? Oh yes. But with the way the past twelve hours had gone, Leon couldn't exactly say he was surprised.

"...I don't know."

"You're not thinking."

"I don't know," Leon repeated more firmly, his sharp voice being dulled ever so slightly by the down of the pillow still covering his face. Another soft brush against his arm, his elbow, tracing up towards his shoulder and the quiet voice which disagreed with a mild smile and a soft tone.

"Think. Random..."

Are ay kay. Are ay kay. Arrrre... R. A. K.

"Random acts of kindness." Bing.

"Exactly."

"What about it?"

"Spontaneous, isn't it? Random. Where'd you hear about it?"

Here Leon had to think for a moment. Cloud continued to press at him both with words and with nudging against his cheek with a petite foot. Normally Leon would've just squashed the bugger and gone straight back to bed in a desperate attempt to rekindle his relationship with his own sanity. But even he couldn't shake the fact that there was something mildly intriguing going on here that he'd never before encountered in his entire life.

And, as human nature demanded, Leon had no choice but to take that encounter and run with it. For all he was worth and as fast as he could.

"I heard about it, I guess... maybe when I was in grade-school? Third grade... second, maybe. Or fourth. I can't really remember. Something like that. Somewhere around there." Leon frowned into his pillow before pulling it off his head with a final flick of his wrist, sitting upright in bed as Cloud grabbed a strand of choppy brown hair and bolted right up along with him, swinging himself into a comfortable position on Leon's shoulder.

He began to explain, then, very slowly and very carefully so as not to throw the delicate train of human thought far from the track where it needed to be.

"There are people, Leon, who don't grow up as they should. There isn't a definition for a proper childhood, nor is there a universally proper way to raise a child. But there's certain standards you all have to meet, certain things you all have to come to know, accept, and live by. Things that have to be lost and things that have to be gained. It is that way that the human race runs itself so efficiently- by programming these necessities into each and every one of you before you come of age.

"But every once in a while, a kid doesn't get that. They don't get it, Leon. They miss something, get too much of something else, and before you know it, humanity's whole system is being wrinkled and screwed around with all because of one little kid's misfortune. They don't grow up right. In a world where you're expected to go forward, they stand still- maybe even going backwards altogether."

"...So what does this have to do with me?" Leon ventured cautiously, already fearing he knew the answer and already fearing some sort of Apocalypse swiftly gathering just beyond the horizon.

Cloud smiled softly and leaned forward, trying to catch Leon's eye but only succeeding in nearly falling right off the man's shoulder and into his lap. Steadying himself with several flaps of his wings and flails from his popsicle-stick arms, Cloud did his level best to continue as he could.

"Remember how I told you that you were missing something?"

"...Yeah."

"Well... you are. And not just you. I mentioned... Larxene, Naminé, Yuffie, Kairi... they'll all missing things. You're all missing something. There's something keeping you all from having that mindset or that... that... You have the minds of children, the hearts of children. And I tried to tell Naminé this, but-"

"Wait, Naminé?"

"Oh sure you know her." Cloud blinked. "She's Larxene's friend. Larxene works for you. And Kairi rooms with her. And Yuffie's friends with-"

"Okay, okay, but where are you going with all this!" Leon was getting frustrated now. It's not every day that some little pixie critter barged into his life, declared him to be a flawed member of society, and then proceeded to go about trying to 'correct' him. The idea in itself not only seemed disturbing, but also sort of communistic. Or something like that at any rate.

As the minutes ticked by, Cloud took his time to backtrack, recover, regain, and readdress everything Leon had questions about. No, Cloud wasn't saying Leon was flawed. No, Cloud wasn't saying he had to be 'corrected' in any way. And no, Cloud was not sent by any sort of secret government force. Cloud came as he was, and from the sound of it, he could go no further.

"I can only stay with people who believe in me. If people stop believing me, they stop seeing me. If they stop seeing me, I stop existing."

"So... as long as there are little kids, you'll live, right? You're basically immortal."

The room fell quiet. It was a quiet that did not feel natural. It was a quiet that made Leon feel guilty. That made him feel as though he had said the wrong thing and the wrong time in the wrong place to the wrong person. ...Or rather, to the wrong faerie.

"Not exactly," Cloud finally answered quietly.

"..."

"...So... on that note, let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"To find the others!" Cloud flapped his wings once, twice, and then landed nimbly on the top of Leon's head. "I tried to explain all this to Naminé, but she couldn't understand. You, Leon, you understand. I know it. So you've gotta help me out, okay?"

"...Whatever."

"Alright! ...Now then. ...How do you use one of those... 'tea-lee-foons?'"

x x x

Later that morning, Kairi appeared at the Laund-Dry-Mat-O, dressed in a pair of loose denim shorts and a sun-bleached t-shirt that may once have been a very bright blue. Slip-on sneakers clapping against the cheap linoleum floor, Kairi slipped through the door, the bell jingling behind her. Sure enough Yuffie was seated behind the counter. Or at least... it looked like she was.

Sort of.

The girl's eyes were half closed and fogged with that all-too-familiar feeling of irrepressible sleep. The kind that just hovers quietly above your brain, just until the moment when you least expect it. Then it's just wham, bam, allakazam and poof. You're practically knocked out for the rest of the day. Bags under her eyes, head supported in her clasped hands, Yuffie was the perfect picture of this very feeling.

"Yuffie, are you okay? I heard about Mr. Tigi..."

Yuffie cocked her head to the slightly, her eyes opening just a bit more as Kairi approached. There was some click of recognition in the back of her mind, somewhere around the same time it was realized that she'd been asked a question. Nevermind that. "You did?"

"News travels fast in little towns."

"Yeah... it does, huh?"

"...Do you guys need any help around here? I mean, I have to work from eight to four, but after that I can always stop by and help out..."

"We're fine thanks. But..." Yuffie's eyes almost slid shut again. Or at least, Kairi thought they did. It turned out the girl was just blinking. ...Blinking... veeery slowly. "If things get outta hand, I'll let you know, okay?"

"Alright... Well, good luck." Kairi turned. Kairi blinked. Kairi paused. "...Oh, um... Yuffie? ...About last night... I'm really sorry. I was just upset and..."

"Hey, everyone has the right to a little drinking when life gets 'em down, yanno? You're plenty entitled to it." Yuffie paused then, frowning slightly and wondering where her straw hat and pitchfork were. So she was a little addlebrained? So what? "Besides, it was no problem. Just know that I expect the favor to be returned when I get drunk, m'kay?" Yuffie grinned as brightly as she could, but it definitely sucked the energy right out of her.

"...Of course!" Kairi laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck with one hand, rocking forward and backward on the balls of her feet. In case you couldn't tell, something peculiar was going on. ...You know. In case you needed the heads up. "Uh... I had another question!"

"Mm?"

"...I have a shirt! Annnd... it's a really nice shirt. But I think I might have put too much starch on it the last time I put it through the wash."

"...And?"

"Annnd... I was wondering if you knew how to get some of the starch out of this shirt of mine and make it more comfortable and everything... Because it's really a nice shirt and all, but it's so... um... starchy."

"Well if you bring it in we might have some detergent or something. Irvine'll probably know how to handle it if I don't."

"...Okay... thanks..."

"No problem!"

And that was the moment in which a very peculiar thing happened.

Kairi suddenly felt as though she were completely surrounded by Yuffie- though such a thing was quite impossible due to the laws of physics and human anatomy. But see, there was something, some change in the air or the Force (as you could possibly call it) surrounding the two, switching completely in some unexplainable manner that made Kairi's eyes widen and her heart clench painfully in her chest.

For almost half a second, she actually believed she was on the verge of having a heart attack.

And then it hit.

There was a way in which Kairi was somehow breathing in Yuffie, be it by feeling the girl's nature, smelling her perfume, or drinking in the look of her, slumped over the counter with a drawn and sleepy gaze painted across her pale face. There was something which could (and still cannot) possibly be recalled through words or act alone, yet it is something we have most likely all experienced in our lives. It is a rush to the top, a balance on the edge, and the slow-yet-rapid tip and fall towards the other side.

It's called something like... suddenly falling in love. So hopelessly and so completely that it's undoubtedly life-altering, though the entire process takes all of perhaps four or five split seconds.

Kairi, having never been one to stand idle and stupid (most of the time, anyway), did the only thing her heart and mind could allow her to- the one thing they could compromise on. And that would be how Kairi swiftly closed the distance between her and Yuffie, balanced on her tiptoes and pressing her lips against the other, taller girl's for half a moment.

...Had a spectator been present, they would have said it looked more like they were bumping chins.

...Had Kairi been capable of talking like a normal human being, she would have said it was hardly even a kiss.

But neither of these things would really have mattered to Yuffie, who stood there, mouth agape, eyes popping out of her head, and Kairi's receipt strangled between both quivering hands clenched in front of her.

"..."

"..."

"...God, I'm sorry," was all Kairi could manage to say. She wore her own look of shock, but hers was a far less ridiculous one than Yuffie's. Hers actually fit her. Somehow. Or maybe it was just that somehow, Kairi was experienced with all this. ...A sad thought, but a possibility, no?

"...Ahh..."

"Yuffie...?"

"...Ahhh..."

"...I'm gonna go! Okay? I'm gonna go now. I'm gonna... I'm just... around the... I'm... sorry..."

"Kairi," Yuffie managed to choke out, just before Kairi hit the door, the bells, and her feet almost dragged her out the door at a maddening pace. Cautiously, the other girl turned around, fear scrawled all over her face, her body rigid and stiff as a bored. Absolutely and undoubtedly petrified. Maybe if Yuffie hadn't been so shaken up herself, she would've felt some sort of guilt about it all. Instead, she simply said, in fragmented speech and with a hoarse and frazzled voice, "I have to go to the bookstore later... Wanna come with me?"

For the sake of Kairi and Yuffie's reputations, the details will now begin to grow just a little lax concerning their afternoon and their trip to the bookstore. It was a thing which was spontaneous and uncalled for and Yuffie herself couldn't even begin to understand what the hell she was thinking with pulling Kairi back like that. Her mind was spinning those questions around, Kairi's was spinning her own set. Between the two there wasn't much conversation, but rather, there was a pull, be it of camaraderie or something else. But there was no mention of 'the kiss.'

And yet when Yuffie and Kairi first entered the nearly deserted bookstore, there was one particular note in their harmonies of mental questions- just one lone note- that stuck the same pitch at the same moment in both girls. Standing there in the middle of the aisle, they looked to the left. And they looked to the right.

Philosophy on the left.

Financing on the right.

To the left was nothing but thought and thinking, deep and provoking, stimulating and puzzling. It was empty, aside from the tomes that lined the shelves, far too old and wise to believe that either of the two girls would so much as run a tentative finger over a calloused spine.

And yet there, to the right, were three men. Button-up shirts, neatly pressed slacks, gleaming loafers and somber ties looped around their necks like some sort of societal noose. All stood with a straight-as-a-board posture, all eyes rooted towards the shelves, moving side to side and browsing and praying for some sort of divine intervention. Give me a book, give me a fortune. Better yet, give me a promotion.

Yuffie and Kairi, in their sneakers, shorts, and t-shirts, stood to the side, stood out of sight. That was the note, right there. Did you miss it? That was their first realization of the undeniable. And though they didn't know it at the time, that was only the very beginning.

"...Come on, let's just... go look somewhere else."

x x x

That afternoon, Kairi shuffled into the apartment. Her spirits were down, her brain was muddled, and much like Yuffie was plagued by her sleepy-feeling, Kairi suddenly found herself plagued by the every-relationshp-I-have-turns-to-dust-in-my-hands-feeling. Flashback to her pothead chemistry teacher from highschool. "All we are is dust in the wind." Atoms and electrons and...

"Larxene..." Kairi's eyes widened as she stared at the older girl seated at the island counter of the kitchenette, looking as though she'd never left. Looking as though all was perfectly fine and well, though it most certainly was anything but.

"Hey there, Pooh." Larxene pulled the stool next to her out two feet, patting the top of it once with her hand before returning them to the pockets of the leather jacket she wore. "Have a seat?" For lack of another response to get going for her, Kairi obeyed. And from her pocket Larxene pulled a large foil ball, roughly the size of her fist, cradled in her hand like a precious egg. "I got something for you."

"...Oh..." Kairi blinked with confusion as Larxene dropped it into her open hands before digging around in her other pocket and pulling out an identical foil package. "Umm... What... what is it?" Kairi asked.

"An orange."

"...?"

"It's a chocolate orange."

"..."

"Candy," Larxene clarified with an amused smirk stretching across her mouth. "You eat too much of that fat free yogurt garbage and you're skinny as a post. So eat it." Resting an elbow on the countertop, Larxene continued to watch her poor puzzled friend with increasing delight as Kairi fumbled with the foil, tried to peel at the sticker, and finally surrendered as Larxene said, "You have to break it open first."

Break it open?

"How to I do that?" Larxene rolled her eyes and pointed to the sticker Kairi had previously been trying to peel off. Hmm... a little cartoon hand smashing the little cartoon orange against a cartoon table. How interesting. "...Oh."

"You have to hit it just right... so all the pieces don't get stuck together. So it breaks apart perfectly."

Kairi pulled back her hand, the chocolate orange cradled inside, wrapped in blue foil. Sweet, innocent little foil ball. ...WHACK! Kairi peeled back the foil to survey the job she'd done and was pleasantly surprised to find the previously solid sphere of chocolate broken apart into little bite-size orange pieces. She grinned and showed her little triumph to Larxene, who couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

"...I did it, see?"

"...Hm." Larxene looked into the open package of foil in her own lap. Pieces broken and chipped every which-way, stuck together or simply falling apart. "Practice what you preach, huh?"

"Or something like it."

The two fell silent after that, occasionally nibbling on bits of chocolate here and there, but mostly lost in their own thoughts. But their thoughts and notes, no matter how musical and how intricate, did not cross. They did not share notes or melodies, but that didn't necessarily make them poorly composed, now did it? Just think about it. Turn on your own mental stereo for a second.

"...I will explain, you know. I promise," Larxene muttered, cautiously penetrating the silence as best and as carefully as she could.

"I know you will."

"...And..."

"It's okay, Larxene." Kairi smiled, but Larxene wouldn't meet her eyes. Strange. "Really."

"You know I... ran into Naminé last night."

"...Oh? What'd she have to say? Anything in particular?"

"How is it that some people can be so stupidly caring? I mean... It just doesn't make sense. It just doesn't make sense. There's no logic to it and there's no possible way emotion could be driving it along."

"And why not?"

Larxene crumpled up her empty sheet of foil in her hand, the smell of chocolate and the smell of oranges lingering in the air. It was something she liked. It was something she had desperately hoped would cheer her up. Sort of like... buying a motorcycle in the middle of the night...

"Get real, Pooh bear. We've barely known each other for two weeks. How much emotion is there to go off of?"

"...Well... I consider you my friend, you know. Maybe you don't feel that way or anything... but I don't have a lot of friends who are girls. You know...? I mean..." Kairi pulled gently at the idea, trying to coax it out of her mind, but it was more stubborn than she thought. Instead she simply sighed and put the feeling into words as best as she could, hands fisted in the effort of buckling down and settling for less than she meant it to mean. "...I've never had a friend like you before. It sounds stupid to say and probably even stupider to hear, but... it's true. I just... I can't explain it very well."

"...What would you say if I told you I killed someone? ...Just for... you know... hypothetically speaking, I mean."

Now during that day, Kairi had experienced several things that she would easily classify as weird. Her mood swings, her impulsive actions, and even her perfectly split orange. But perhaps it was the way Larxene said it. Perhaps it was the way the blonde's eyes stayed fixated on the countertop, unmoving and unflinching, cold, hard, and almost uncaring. Or perhaps, just perhaps it was the sudden click of memory and the act of everything sliding in the place, slowly, but very, very surely.

"I once knew this woman. The really old, but really sweet type, you know? I used to go visit her sometimes when I was in high school. My mom always made me bring her cookies or something. I think my mom felt bad for her or something... maybe because she was so old, maybe because she lived there all alone. But once a week her granddaughter would go and visit her. So between me and this granddaughter of hers, I didn't think she had it so bad."

"...What happened?"

"Oh." Larxene blinked, almost as though she were surprised that Kairi had spoken at all in the first place. Then, she very calmly and very clearly stated, "She killed herself. She had someone help her, you know..."

"...Larxene... what happened to that woman?"

But Larxene didn't have the chance to answer, for at that very moment, the phone rang.

(x) (x) (x)

Sorry again for the belated update. XO I kept getting waaay sidetracked. Not to mention how I keep changing the chapters and what I want them to accomplish. Muaha. The fic is pas the halfway marker! Yay! It only gets more fun for me from here on out.