Roxas didn't know where he was walking, but his legs needed to move as his mind reeled. Thoughts a mile a minute running through his head. There was a reason he'd stayed away from his father and as his heart raced in anger, he realized some of that reason was fear of disappointment. Fear his father really didn't want him, the teen had pep talked himself from such a young age about how is father didn't want him but a small part of him always wished to be welcomed in with open arms.
"It's temporary," the words rang loud and clear.
He'd been considered missing for the last few weeks, he knew when the cops picked him up they'd bring him to his father's, unless he could get them to throw him somewhere else. That plan fell through, unless Tifa called the cops again.
It was a shitty move on her part, but she could claim he was trying to run away . And there was no doubt in the teen's mind the police would hold him till his mother was better. If he could get his way.
"What the hell..." he mumbled, what teenager wishes to be thrown into a cell?
He'd walked in circles and lines and all shapes, he was officially lost. Without pausing, he looked around, the houses all looked the same, but the person behind him stood out. No more than 50 feet behind him paced a man, his head covered by a hood, his steps matched Roxas' speed. The teen turned. When the man turned too was when the blond's focus changed. Trying not to make it obvious, he sized up the man behind him. Much taller, skinny, and though he had a hood up, long red hair stood out. The more turns he took, the more concered he became. He wasn't terrified, he was far too angry for that still. Maybe this man would kill him and save him from his annoying dilemma.
Unhealthy thoughts crossed his mind, most about how the mystery man would kill him. Roxas didn't want to go back to his father's house, referring to the man as his father was becoming more off putting then the man behind him, he'd go back to calling him Cloud.
Not only was there a man following him, but now there was a car pulling up to him. Did Tifa already call the cops?
"Roxas!" The woman called from the vehicle, he stopped and spared her a glance, "I'm sorry Roxas, that wasn't what I meant, can we please go home?"
"Go home, I'm fine," he gestured to the sidewalk, he'd be fine on the streets, he and his murderer would be best friends.
She parked the car, leaving it running she hopped out and approached the teen. "No, you're 16, you shouldn't be out here, you should be home, sleeping in a warm bed, with clean clothes and a full stomach."
Did she know how long he spent running away and living on the streets?
There was a gasp from beside them.
"Tifa," it was the teen's murderer, "You're no Sora." It sounded more like a question.
Tifa opened her mouth, after a breath so deep she closed her eyes, she spoke, "No, this is Roxas... Sora's brother."
The hood fell down, Roxas saw bright green eyes and black face tattoos, an apologetic look on the teen's face. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were Sora and I was trying to creep you out," he looked like he wanted to add more, but stumbled for words, "I'm sorry."
"That's alright, I was hoping you'd be the murderer that put me out of my misery."
"Roxas!" Tifa didn't like his honesty. "Why would you say something like that?"
"Because that's how I talk Tifa, but you wouldn't know that because you don't really know me, do you?" It was a low blow, Roxas didn't realize that till he saw her reaction, the pain filled face. He wanted to take back his words, they were true, but they were venomous.
"Roxas..." She said calmly, "Can we go home..."
His mouth opened to say no, but his hands were getting cold, he was hungry, but mostly he was tired. Covering his face for a minute, he gave in, his hands going up in surrender, "Okay, fine."
"Thank you."
Roxas felt her watching him, as if to make sure he was actually getting into the tiny car. When she followed his lead, she kept her mouth shut tight. She wanted to comment on his behavior, about what she had said to him, about how he didn't put on his seat belt, but she kept quiet.
Tifa knew Roxas would be different from Sora, but she never understood just how much.
Her mouth opened as she turned the car off, her rational mind having come up with something to say, but once the car was parked the teen was gone. The blond bee-lined for the house without a word. Tifa slumped against the steering wheel, what was the right move?
Roxas sat on the bare bed, back to the door. It was still sunny outside, but the teen wanted to sleep, he wanted to get away from everything without physically moving. As he drifted off, memories ran through his mind. Finally there was peace. His mother's calming face, her warm smile, she didn't have to do anything to make Roxas feel better. She never did.
The room was white last time he saw her. Her body hooked up to beeping machines, heavily bandaged. Roxas broke down when they tried to pull him away from her, he wasn't hurting anything by being there. Nurses tried at first. Grabbing his arms and physically moving him, in the nicest way they could. That quickly went out the window. Police took over. Picking him up and pulling him away. He reached for his mother. He begged her to wake up, to get them to leave him alone. She wasn't moving, she didn't even flinch when he screamed for her, punching and hitting the police with everything he had, landing on the cold hard hospital floor a few dozen times before he finally broke free and ran.
"Who are you?" Hot hands yanked the teen out of the bed.
The teen's mind never had a chance to register the question before he was asked again. The silver haired teen was beyond impatient. Grabbing at the hands, Roxas attempted to fight him off like he had the cops.
"Riku!" Another voice yelled.
"What-"
"Let go of him, what are you doing? Does he look like some random hobo off the street? Calm down..."
"Who is he?"
"I am right here."
"This is Roxas," Sora gestured to the stranger in his room. "Mom said you were older than me..." His train of thought stopped. "I'm Sora," his hand outstretched for a hand shake, "This is Riku." Said hand dropped.
"I'm older than you..." the words didn't go unheard, "How old are you?"
"I'm 16," he smiled like he was proud, "Riku's 17"
Roxas didn't care how old Riku was, "When's your birthday?"
"March 7th," his smile did nothing but anger Roxas more. Roxas cut him off when he began to explain when Riku's birthday was.
"You're 16, your birthday's in March?" He'd already forgotten the day, he shook his head as a sinister laugh escaped him. "Fuck..."
The room was silent, Roxas smiling like he'd heard a dark joke while Sora and Riku awkward stood in the small room.
"Um... How old are you?"
His smile grew. "I'm 16. My birthday is in November. I'm older than you. By four fucking months." A headache was slowly growing in the blond's brain.
"Were Irish twins," the brown haired boy offered a weak smile.
Roxas smile dropped as he looked at his Irish twin. "Yeah. Our dad is a fucking sleaze."
"Hey," Riku chimed back in. "You don't know him, so don't talk shit about him."
The words backfired without Roxas having to say anything. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yup, you're the newer, better model of me. Our father couldn't bother to watch my first steps because he watching you crawl for the first time." Him meeting his brother made everything worse.
Riku left the room, "Can I sit?" Sora motioned to his brother's bed, since his was covered with everything he owned.
"Go for it." Roxas could have joined in, but instead he stood as far away as he could.
"Can we..." the brunet struggled for words. "Can we start over?" Silence was his answer. "Look, I'm sorry, it's not my fault... can... we just enjoy what you and I have though?"
"What's that?"
"Well," as Sora began to think, a smile began to grow on his face. "We're close in age, we can wear each other's clothes- you can wear any of mine- I could dye my hair blond and we could mess with people because we look a lot alike! We'll be in the same grade-"
"Stop," no one broke the news to him. "I'll be a year behind you... your mom said so..." the smile on his younger brother's face dropped. With a deep breath, he looked at the ceiling, here was a kid that was genuinely happy to have Roxas around and was trying to make the most of it in a juvenile way, and clean clothes would be nice. "Yeah," he gave in, "We can start over," the boy's smile grew, "If, if you let me borrow some clean clothes."
.
.
.
Uploaded April 29, 2019
