No Reply
Author's Notes: …I. Am. So. Sorry. I. Don't. Update. Regularly. Like. I. Should. (facepalm) Somewhere along the line of this chapter, I started freakin' out because I was afraid I wasn't including Sora enough. Then I remembered that this is not Sora's story! It's Key's! Then I could no longer remember what I was bummed about. So, going back to the root of how this story was started, this entire chapter was written with no plot in mind. Yay! That way, even I am surprised with sudden changes. I'm totally dabbling in different styles too, soooooo….Yano. If you notice some inconsistency, that would be why. I'm also trying to find a way I can squeeze some first-person in here, but to no avail. Heck, I may just do an entire chapter in first-person for the heck of it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters/world associated with it. I do own Key though. So. Whatever.
Chapter 9: Hazy Thoughts
"I'm naked!"
The boy isn't naked. He is aware of this, yet, can't stop the sentence as it rips away from his mouth.
"I'm naked!" He screams again, stumbling drunkenly down a black street. It is framed with wide sidewalks. A line of people watch him: blank faces with blank stares.
"You're not naked." One person tries to tell him. A blank face speaking loudly. The boy is not convinced.
"I'm naked!" he insists, throwing himself at the crowd, grabbing a fistful of shirt as if to prove its non-existence.
He knows he is not naked, but he can't seem to help himself.
Sora kicked his seat.
He felt it.
Heard it squeak.
He kicked it again.
And this time Key opened his eyes. He looked at Sora, a haze of sleep still distorting his vision. The boy opposite of him was looking up, trying to see out of the window. No light came from it. The train was still rumbling in hungry movement beneath him.
He felt the sudden urge to yawn when Sora's flicker of a gaze met his own. He kicked the seat again.
"Izzit mornin' yet…?"
Sora shrugged a reply.
"I dunno. It's still dark."
Key took this moment to sit up, looking once again around the train. He stretched his arms above his head, arching his back like a cat might. The lights flickered, though the train showed no signs of slowing to a halt. There were other passengers aboard now, but no more than two people to a seat. They all looked a bit worn, to Key, a bit worse for the wear. Dark clothing shoddily assembled, accenting their pale faces and almost bleached hair. Most of them had their heads down, reading a paper, staring at the floor. They wanted nothing to do with each other. Key blinked. He pulled his hood over his head, and sank back into the seat.
Sora only looked at him questioningly, but eventually did the same.
'He still sticks out like a sore thumb…' thought Key blankly, noting Sora's bright clothes. No matter, it could be fixed if needed.
The train pulled to a stop, squeaking in agony as the doors collapsed clumsily to form a ramp. Key watched as one of the blonde people stood. It was a woman. Her posture was impeccable, near perfect, despite this, her gaze was still fixed on the ground, her head bowed as if in mourning. Her porcelain face looked almost unearthly in perfection, her large, ghastly gray eyes and high cheekbones veiled by a thin lair of hair. How beautiful. Key was afraid to look at her.
Sora's foot against the leg of his seat brought him back to reality. He looked at the boy sitting across from him.
"We should get off soon…" murmured Sora, his gaze flicking awkwardly over the woman as she disembarked. Key could tell he felt awkward, could tell he felt very out of place.
Key nodded in agreement.
They waited for a stop where most of the other passengers would be leaving.
And soon, they disembarked. They received odd looks as they slid down the ramp on cautious tip-toe.
How strange this world was; all the denizens of this town were pale, blonde, and silent. Such an odd contrast to the shadowy world they resided in. Key felt like an unworthy comparison.
"They remind me of ghosts!" whispered Sora, hurriedly glancing around to make sure no one had heard him. No one did.
Key shrugged in agreement. He was right.
They shuffled down the street, following the tracks. There were so many back alleys and long buildings, that they were afraid of getting lost. Streetlights guided them.
Key was a near inch taller than the boy beside him, and he walked with his hands buckled around the straps on his bag. He was hungry. Judging by the way Sora was clutching his stomach, he suspected his companion was too.
"Let's find somewhere to eat." He murmured.
Sora agreed gratefully, tugging at his own hood. It still clung limply to the rest of his jacket by mere stitches.
Key rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling the disrupted skin between the fabric and his fingers. It was irritated; sometime during the night the wound had opened up again, and left a shadow of blood on the seat. He hoped no one would notice.
Sora didn't.
His bag slumped down his back, and he made no bother to adjust it. He tucked his bangs behind his ears, pulling his hood further down into his face. They kept getting strange looks. Blank looks from seemingly blank faces. He didn't know if it was because of their hair, or because of their skin, or because of their clothes, or if it was merely the fact that they seemed to be conversing. With each other.
He averted his gaze, looking at the ground and slowing his pace until he was a couple steps behind Sora.
He wondered briefly how Sora had gained back his confidence.
The boy kept looking back to him, and Key could tell he had concocted more questions to plague him with. Questions he would probably have a difficult time answering. He felt this back of his neck again. It itched.
Finally, Sora fell back to Key's pace.
"I need new clothes." He blatantly stated.
To Key's surprise, it wasn't an inquiry at all.
"But we need to eat first. I'm so hungry I could eat my own foot." He smiled broadly, and his conspicuous blue eyes wrinkled at the top of his cheeks. Key paid no mind, simple shrug.
It was a while before they found a restaurant (neither boys could read the language, and neither felt bold enough to ask the mute residents) by peeping in through a window. It wasn't crowded, but there were few people in there all the same.
It was a bar, the air brimming with the smallest of chatter as the two sat on stools almost too tall for their reach.
A couple men sat behind them—laughing and talking and socializing not unlike people Sora was used to seeing. How strange that personality and atmosphere seemed to change so much indoors.
Then he almost made the mistake of pulling down his hood out of mere politeness, but Key stopped him with a sharp kick to the shin. He gave a scolding glare that made Sora automatically stop his actions.
When the waitress approached (an almost eerily unnatural smile in her teeth), Key simply asked what the special of the day was. Neither of them could read the menu—and neither knew what food in this world was like.
When she replied hamburger, Key ordered one with relief as did Sora. They didn't talk as they waited for the meal. Sora listened with interest to the men behind them.
Though the written language was immensely different, the spoken sounded almost exactly like English, aside from a few slang words and names he could make no sense of.
"I can't beeleeve how zeh Spectars have arrived, zo early in ze year! We have to be careful on ze outzide now."
"What're Spectres?" Sora mumbled to Key, but he merely shushed his friend and listened to the men, now interested.
The conversation continued, but there was no more mention of Spectres. Instead they talked of weather and business. Key sighed, but suspected that these "Spectres", whatever they were, had something to do with the voice taboo outside of buildings.
He turned to look at Sora, and it seemed that he was on the same train of thought.
They ate in silence. The hamburgers turned out to be made of ham, and not beef. It tasted strange, but good and filling.
In this world, apparently, they were old enough to drink. Sora refused to, and had excused himself to look for a clothing store.
"I stick out like a sore thumb!"
Which were Key's thoughts exactly.
The bright red pants that Sora wore were not as incognito as the two could have hoped, so he did not try to make him stay. He had faith that Sora could find his way back.
Meanwhile he swirled his drink around with a pointer finger, and the foamy texture was pleasantly warm. He took a swig, expecting a bitter taste, but instead getting something almost overwhelmingly sweet. He immediately felt a pleasant buzz.
Key didn't drink often, and had only gotten fall-down drunk once; he did not enjoy such a loss of control, nor did he enjoy vomiting all over himself. He pushed the half-empty cup away, watching the ring of condensation smear across the wooden counter. Immediately someone appeared in front of him; waving a pitcher in front of him and asking if he wanted a re-fill. It wasn't the waitress, but the bartender. Key recognized the woman immediately as the one from the train. She smiled at him, shaking the pitcher lightly again. He shook his head, watching the foamy concoction circle around the rim. She shrugged wiping the water smudge away with a ratty dishrag, then leaned onto the counter using her elbows to prop herself up. She looked at Key expectantly, so the boy took another gulp of the sweet drink before turning away.
"What?" he snapped.
She merely shrugged. "Just look like you have something on your mind, is all."
He mimicked her shrug, pushing the glass away. "Like I'd tell you, even if there was."
Ever since he met Sora, even if it was just a day or two ago, Key had become more talkative; he had gained some long-lost confidence—even if it did return in the form of sarcasm and snide remarks.
She sighed.
Key yawned; the drink had such a pleasant almost numbing side effect. His entire body felt warm, and he was beginning to feel mildly tired. He slumped onto the table, and heard the woman move from in front of him. He pulled his hood over his eyes; he'd take a nap only for a moment.
Then there was a tap on his shoulder. Assuming it was Sora, Key immediately sat up turning around to face his friend.
But it wasn't. It was the woman again. She untied her apron and slung it over the counter-top before sliding onto the stool next to him. He scoffed, reverting to the way he had formerly positioned himself; head in the cradle of his arms and the hood pulled over his eyes until the woman yanked it off. He sat up instantly, grabbing the hem of the hood to pull it back over his head but she stopped him by placing a firm grip on his fore-arm.
It was then that Key noticed there was no one else in the bar. The waitress was gone. The men had left.
He yanked his arm away from the woman, but left his hood down despite. He felt her stare fix on the keyhole and he ran his hands through his dark hair.
"You're not from here."
Key said nothing. He pulled the drink toward him again and took another grateful swig. The thick liquid engulfed his throat in comforting warmth. The foam tickled his lips.
"Nope." He finally replied in a sudden spontaneous urge not to lie.
The woman nodded, but Key didn't turn to look at her.
"Where is your friend? The one you were with on the Transport?"
Something about the way she said it made Key imagine the word 'transport' with a capitol "T". He placed an open palm over the mouth of his glass. She had remembered him.
"He's finding clothes." Key murmured. He felt the heat rising from the drink.
"You're still bleeding, were you aware? It's stained the back of your jacket." He glanced over to the woman.
"You should really seal that shut. It could get crossed or infected."
On closer inspection, Key saw that her eyes were actually a very light blue, not gray.
"Why…?"
"Because infections hurt, and being crossed is no fun either."
"No, I mean why are you even…?"
"Because you're different."
Key was muted by the statement alone.
"Not just physically." She added.
And this, for some unfathomable reason, made Key blush the lightest color of pink.
"I'm Byrea, by the way." She held out her hand for Key to shake, He didn't know if it was the drink making him act friendly, but he shook it warmly.
"I'm Key."
Chapter Notes: So, the dream at the beginning is TOTALLY the EXACT dream I had not too long ago. I thought it was so strange and weird I included it in the story. It kind of fits, neh?
Again, though this entire thing was written on whim, I still sorta anticipated more reaction between Key and Sora. Oh well! It will happen! Maybe next chapter? Who can tell?
So, the reason for the sparse updates is because of school. Yah yah, so lame, but it's true.
This chapter seems a bit choppy and spazztic.
I'm hoping to let the boys wander around this world for a bit longer before making them move on.
Noticing a trend anyone?
First Anitta, now Byrea?
There's a reason they never make any guy friends—and it's because they don't have female friends! What will be Byrea's fate? Who knows.
What are Spectres?
Who knows.
What is going on! Who knows!
Thanks again to all the reviewers and favorite adds and stuff! I totally appreciate it! (confetti)
Remember! It's the reviews that motivate me and tell me what you think! Without that, how can I possibly mold this story to your, the reader's, liking? Simple! I can't!
Hope to see you again!
Sarah