Riku's PoV

I hurt. Not the sharp pain of knives over skin, but the slow, dull ache of broken bone. My first flare of rage had carried me here—the secret place. I had run, half blind, not even knowing where I was going. No matter how fast you go, you can't outrun yourself. When the first burst of fury ran out, I finally looked around me. I was in a small cave, on the beach. Right on the edge of the burnt sector, where the shells of dead buildings glared like carrion birds. I had come here often, when I couldn't stand the loneliness, but after the Great Fire, no one was allowed here for so long, I had forgotten.

It was then that the full weight of what I had done hit me, with the force of a mountain avalanche. I felt my knees simply stop holding me, and I hit the sand hard. Emotions boiled through my veins, overwhelming, too intense to identify. Pain. Anger. Jealousy. Affection. To strong for mere attraction. It had to be love. Only love and death could hurt so damn much. I lay down in the sand, and stared at the patterns the sunset made, leaking through the small hole in the ceiling near the entrance. It didn't seem fair that it should be such a pretty sunset, when my life had just fallen to bits. Again.

"Calm, Riku." It was a hoarse whisper in the near-silence. "I'm sure it was nothing, just like he said. Just apologize, and everything will be all right." Talking to myself, first sign of madness. Even I didn't believe it was that simple. I didn't know if Sora had really been with Alex or not. What I saw could have just been a gesture between friends. Yeah, right. Even I wasn't that dumb. Why would Sora stick with an obnoxious weak little moron who couldn't even stand after throwing one punch? Why stick with me, when he could have Alex? I sure as hell couldn't compete with him. He was strong, smart, and beautiful. Everything I wasn't. Even if, by some miracle, Sora had chosen me, there was no way he could forgive me now. I had seen the pain on his face. He would go ice-skating in hell before he forgave me. I had no doubt Sora could hold a grudge.

I blinked, and rose to a sitting position. It didn't matter. I would survive, the same way I always had. And I would never let them see me cry. A stubborn fool, but never a weak one. I would not shed a tear. And I would outlive the bastards. I wiped the tears off my face. No more fell to replace them, I forced myself to an icy, frigid calm, and held it by pure force of will. I rose to my feet, and walked back to the very back of the cave. There was a large wooden box there, a makeshift alter to any god at all, real or imagined. I opened it carefully, then drew out a clay burner and a stick of incense. Then, with a rattle, I pulled out the false bottom of the box. Underneath was a small compartment, about four inches deep. Inside was a knife, as long as my forearm, with a silver hilt fashioned in the shape of a dragon. The black leather sheath was just a bit dusty. I drew the knife, almost a short sword, with a metallic shing that echoed through the cave. The blade shone, polished mirror bright, reflecting the flare as I lit the incense. The smell of jasmine filled the cave, incongruously sweet. I lifted the blade and drew it lightly over the inside of my wrist. A thin bead of blood followed the knife, completely hiding the old scar. It wasn't deep; the knife was so sharp I could barely feel the cut. Three drops of blood fell from my hand, winding around my wrist before dropping to the sand. Shocking red on icy white. The colors fascinated me; it felt as though all my trouble had flowed into those red drops, spreading into snowflake patterns of red on the pale sand. The cut had stopped bleeding, and an icy sensation had filled my body. A frozen, unnatural calm. The same shelter that had gotten me through when my father had died. I am stone. I blew out the incense and sheathed the knife, stowing everything back in the box. Not a thought passed through my mind. Not a feeling. Blessed numbness. The stuff packed, I began to walk. Not quickly, just walking the direction of my house. I refused to call it home. That was back in the cave, with the sweet smell of incense and the copper tang of blood. I walked a long time, and the moon was high when I finally reached my house. All the windows were dark, and as I slipped in the back door, I could hear my mother snoring softly. Quietly, I headed up to my room and readied for bed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. I did not dream.

Sora's PoV

Monday morning. Annoying at the best of times, today it was a living hell. Looking at him, he was completely calm. He acted like nothing had happened. He looked like a goddamned ice statue. I couldn't decide if I was angry or not. It was all overwhelmed by hurt still. It was fourth hour, and I was watching him from across the room. He was chatting with Kairi, looking as though he'd had a perfect weekend. I felt a stab of jealousy, then a realization like a brick to the head. This was what he had felt when he'd seen me with Alex. At least, I hoped he had cared enough to feel it. You couldn't prove it now by looking. Thinking about him hurt, but I was sad to realize that I had hurt him plenty, too. I ate on the roof. It had become my normal spot, and I couldn't deal with people today… but it was more than that. It was my challenge, a dare for Riku. Can you face me, all alone? I didn't know if I wanted him to come or not. I didn't know what I felt. Half the time I wanted to throw him off the cliff for not trusting me, hut part of me wanted to jump of that cliff myself for hurting him. A third part of me thought I should try to get him back, by all methods fair or foul, but a fourth part feared that it would happen again. I sighed, and raked my fingers through my hair. Life was complicated enough when my mind agreed with itself.

I heard someone at the drainpipe, and froze my face into my most expressionless mask. A wisp of silver fluttered, and for a moment, I looked into eyes the color of the sea at sunset. For a moment, those eyes were unguarded, and I could see his reaction to my presence. It wasn't fear, though that was some of it. It wasn't the anger I had steeled myself against. Pain was not the only element. Quick as he appeared, Riku vanished, leaving me to ponder what that other emotion had been, lying naked in his eyes. Eventually, I gave it up as a bad cause. It didn't matter. By now my anger and hurt were dulling, leaving a depressed apathy in their wake. Nothing mattered. A thought drifted through my mind, slow as a bubble rising through honey. Alex had hated that apathy. Alex would have trusted me. Riku caused the apathy. Riku who hated me.

The glass wall that had been forming between me and the world shattered, and I was angry, restless, spoiling for a fight. Leaving my stuff where it was, I slid down the drainpipe. I wanted to run, fight, dance, climb—anything to escape the fire itching just under my skin. Run I did, headed for the one place I knew I could find a fight. The old church, in the middle of the burnt sector. Trevor's lair. His gang had been getting involved in much harder stuff than our children's war; an opium operation, making the stuff and selling it in the slums near the burnt sector. Trashing the lab would be a good way to work out my frustration, and do a good deed at the same time. My odds might be pretty good, if there were only one or two guards, or terrible, if enough of the older guys were around. My feet slowed, and changed direction. I needed some backup. Not other people; Alex would bop me over the head for even suggesting something this stupid, and he was at school anyway. No, I wanted my sword. I reached the base, and grabbed it. This was not my practice sword; my practice sword compared to this like a butter knife to an eight inch switchblade. My practice sword was slimmer, a light bamboo thing that was not very good for inflicting damage. This was a bokun—a long katana-like thing, made not of the usual light wood, but strips of maple, ironwood and ebony, joined seamlessly in a blade just a touch heavier than metal. The hilt was wrapped in black cloth over silver wire for a better grip. I picked it up and tested the weight. It had been a long time since I had used it. The sword went in a shoulder harness I pulled out of the same box, and I was ready. Time to do something really stupid. Just as I was headed to the door, it swung open. Alex. Damn. A sort of manic energy had crept over me, and I didn't want to be stopped.

"Sora?" Alex's voice was puzzled. "What are you doing here? And." His voice changed made it a statement, "why are you wearing your sword. Never mind, I know. You're going to do something stupid." Damn, he was sharp today. He slid the sword from its sheath and swung it over his shoulder. "You'll get it back when you tell me where you're going." I sighed, absently running a hand through my hair… that was becoming a habit…no use lying to Alex, even if I hadn't promised.

"Going to make some trouble for the bastard cow." 'The bastard cow' was Alex's nickname for Trevor. I was referring to a long diatribe Alex had come up with, not long after Trevor had kidnapped me. Now he looked at me more closely, and he didn't seem to like what he saw. I shifted, foot to foot, wanting to be gone. The anger had faded out as quickly as it had come, replaced by manic energy, and the feel of fire under my skin had worsened.

"Riku trouble?" he asked, understanding and sympathetic.

"I don't want to talk about it." I said. Deep understanding flashed in his eyes. Alex had seen me do this before. He answered in a near whisper.

"You're doing yourself no favors. Last time you wound up in the hospital. You looking to die, this time?" I started to answer, of course not, and then remembered my promise. My promise never to lie to Alex. Death would be an antidote to pain. My silence was answer enough, and he sighed.

"One sec. Let me get my knives." I raised an eyebrow. "What? I can't stop you. And I really need to hit something." My eyebrows were in danger of becoming part of my hair. I blinked. Looked like he was having dating trouble, too.

"You do this often?" I asked, worried despite myself.

"Often enough." He confessed, ruefully. "Let's go cause some trouble." that last was spoken with a murderous grin, and I could feel myself give a matching one.

"Lets."

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Obviously, I didn't get a chance to double post. Thank you, yet again, to everyone who reviewed. Timeteo, I apreciate the suggestion, but as songfics are not allowed, (and the whole thing is a sort of songfic anyway, cynical world, by yuki kajiura) I'm not planning to use it. (also, a lot of mine is written in advance. I'm working on chapter 14 right now, of an eventual 16) Things are going to work out eventually, but this chapter was one of the hardest to write. Luck to you all.

Dyslexic Angel