Quoshoopy
'Luffenuff'
Riku awoke as he did every Sunday morning. His alarm cheerfully sang out sharply at six. He hit the snooze button.
Nine minutes later, it started at it again.
Snooze.
Nine minutes later?
Snooze. Snooze. So it all continued to replay itself until around ten in the morning when Riku finally awoke with a leisurely stretch, snapping and popping each and every joint in his back until he was completely and entirely satisfied with the world at large. ...Until he saw the empty pillow beside him. Until his memories caught up with his sad little waking brain.
"Shit."
x x x
"Cloud..."
The Cloud in question cracked open one eye, peering at Sora through his steepled fingers, a sleepy grin stretched across his face.
"Mm?"
They sat in Sora's living room, the stereo playing in the corner, Cloud's briefcase lying by the door. Though the two objects were in no way connected, neither were the two men lying sprawled out on the rug, one looking at the other, the other looking at the ceiling fan. it went round and round and never changed its course, but there was most certainly something to look at in its sad little movement.
"I think there's something wrong with me," Sora mumbled.
Cloud cocked his head to the side then, fully alert, but... holding back. "Oh?"
"I feel so romanceless." Sora said the words before he'd checked through them in his head, but he thought they captured it-- the thing he was feeling. But when Cloud couldn't even hold back a sharp snicker, Sora began to wonder if those were really the right words to be using. "Wh-hey! Stop laughing!"
But Cloud shook his head. He kept chuckling, still shaking his head, still chuckling. Sora glared, Cloud laughed-- the stereo kept playing and the fan kept spinning. "What am I supposed to do about it? Don't mean t'be the bearer of bad news, Sora, but, uh..." Cloud trailed off again, a wry little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.
"Don't remind me," Sora groaned, rolling over onto his stomach. He'd heard that old Elvis had suffocated himself on his bathroom carpet after falling over from a drug overdose. He wondered if he could make do without the drugs.
But there was Cloud, not one moment later, leaning over his smaller body and focusing on him quite intently. The warmth captured between them was comforting enough to force Sora's eyes shut. When Cloud spoke, his words weren't lost in any background noise-- not the hum of the fan or the racket of the stereo. They were carried swiftly and easily right along and into Sora's ear.
"Ah, there you are again. That sad little kid I met on the bus ride home. I wondered when I'd see you again," he said.
"...Heh. I'm not depressed."
"Sure."
"Stuff it."
"So what's got you feeling so romanceless, dearheart?"
Sora's brows furrowed together. His eyes shot open. "...Dearheart?"
"Would it help to read you some love-struck poetry?"
"God, please no."
"Here I go!"
"Cloud!"
"Ooone day you'll find me drowning in my coffee--"
"Aw, come on, seriously!"
"--under this broken bridge of ours, this broken bridge of ours, this broken bridge of ours. And we'll be so madly in love, this broken bridge and I--"
"Cloooud."
"--oh, this broken bridge and I. Promise me you'll meet me there, there, there. Promise me you'll meet me under this broken bridge of ours." With a little flourish on the word 'ours,' Cloud broke off into a softer tone, one finger jabbing Sora playfully in the arm, one corner of his mouth quirked into a smile.
"You and me, we're gonna float away like driftwood, baby, like driftwood, don't you see? You and me, we're gonna float away like driftwood 'neath this broken bridge of ours."
Sora blinked and said, "...That was depressing."
Cloud blinked and tucked both hands in his lap, his mouth opening to say, "Sorry, I got a little carried away. I got a little confused. I--" But he stopped, he rethought his plan of action, his brilliant scheme. He retraced his footsteps and decided that forward was not the best direction to be heading in, not when dealing with an emotionally awkward Sora.
So instead, he took the roundabout approach.
"Want some more tea?" Cloud asked hopefully.
"I'm okay."
"Well, I know you're okay, but do you want some tea?"
"No. Um. Thanks." Sora frowned slightly, almost wincing at his own words. What the heck's wrong with me? He absentmindedly began rifling through Cloud's open CD case, sprawled at his feet. Fingers flew over random unknown titles and Sora had probably never felt more stupid in his entire life. Up until the point-- "...Hey, it's that guy," Sora mumbled.
"Tom Waits?"
"Yeah. Is that song on here?" Sora looked towards the CD beneath his pointing finger. What was it called again? Waltizing... Someone or other.
"Not today it's not. You don't need another sad song. Come on." Cloud jerked his head towards the front door, kicking the CD case closed with his foot as his hands reached down for Sora, hauling him to his feet. He would've laughed out loud at how easy it was to drag the boy anywhere, but somehow he wasn't sure if it was really a laughing matter.
Oh, but he's doing it again.
Sora blinked owlishly up at Cloud, scrubbing his eyes with on hand, the other scratching his head-- just like some little kid woken up from the best damn sleep of their little wee lives. "Where are we going?" he asked sleepily.
"On a walk. That fitness stuff is supposed to be real damn good for you or something like that."
Sora shrugged and, just as Cloud had guessed, was dragged along with an unnerving lack of resistance. The two men, side by side, strolled down the sidewalks of the neighborhood, neither saying a word.
An elderly woman sat on her porch as they passed by, a cat curled up in her lap asleep, a grandson settled on the floor beside her, spinning a top around on the concrete. When the two came into his line of view, the little boy looked up and grinned broadly, for he knew Sora was 'one of the good guys,' seeing as he'd given his ball to him one distant summer day in the past. But his grandmother gave him a swift but gentle kick in the side, keeping him silent as the pair passed.
Silence, silence, silence...
They reached the end of the fifth block and neither had said a word, still. Sora scrunched his face up and bent over, his hands clutching at his stomach, suddenly.
"I don't feel so good..." he murmured. Ohshitohshitohshit... Knives danced up his spine as Sora found himself sprawled on the ground, hands splayed out before him, stomach churning, heaving. Cloud was saying... he was saying something.
Sora couldn't understand what, though. He couldn't understand and it just made him so angry. Anger made it worse-- he squeezed his eyes shut tight as his supposedly faithful body rebeled against him. See if I ever treat you right again, fucker. Nothing but chocolate and TV from now on. Go ahead and break down. See if I care.
Well, even if Sora didn't care that he was dry-heaving on the concrete sidewalk, Cloud sure did.
"Sora! God, Sora... it's... hey, hey, it's okay..."
Sora could feel one arm around him, one hand rubbing in soothing circles on his back. He could hear the words, but to him they weren't yet words, just sounds. Just background noise to the louder roar in his head and the hiss of his breath and he'd never been so scared, he'd never been so scared.
"I don't-- don't understand. I'm happy... Good things happen to me... I'm happy..."
x x x
"Everyone knows I'm in over my head... everyone except goddamn little old me." Thud. "Over my head..." Thud. "Over my head..." Thud. "Twenty three and over my head."
"Ahem."
Kairi's head rolled pitifully to one side, landing on the desk with a final thud as she looked lazily upwards to see who on earth could be bothered to shake her from her mental playground. And who should she find framed in the doorway? Why, none other than the all-mighty owner--
"Ohmigod. Paine."
"Indeed." Paine pulled a slender pair of silver-framed glasses from their perch on her nose, inspecting them with a slight frown of disgust before idly tapping the folded metal body against her thigh. She studied Kairi critically for a moment, clearly waiting for an apology.
Or, at the very least, for an explanation as to why Kairi had preliminary costume sketches stuck to the side of her face with Play-Doh.
"C-can I help you?" Kairi stammered awkwardly. She flung her arms up in some sort of defensive movement, pushing papers to one side, cramming the Play-Doh back in its innocent little plastic tub of a container. Almost as a second thought, one hand shot out and yanked the stray paper from her face, tossing it onto the pile as the entire show was finished by one hell of a nervous and lame-ass giggle erupting from Kairi's mouth. "Heehee?"
"Yes. Actually, you can help me. You can go home." Before Kairi could object, Paine snapped her fingers and narrowed her eyes. "Go home and don't come back to work until you're ready to function normally."
"I-I'm functioning perfectly well!"
"No. You're not."
"But I am! I just got that--"
"Very important job from some mysterious client none of us is familiar with. It means we have nothing to fall back on if you screw up. So don't screw up. Go home, go to sleep. And don't screw up."
That was it. Kairi had no stockpiled set of nerves left on her and she found herself packing up and clocking out early. Again. Meanwhile, Paine was left puzzling over the little jar of Play-Doh, fighting the urge to pop it open and see just what the hell all the hype was about, anyhow. Of course she refrained, her being Paine, but the image of Kairi's Play-Doh balls all lined up on her desk didn't leave her head for the rest of the day.
"...Rikku? Why do children like Play-Doh?"
"Some kids like to eat it. I dunno, why? Were you thinking of picking some up for--"
Paine shook her head slightly, puzzled. "I don't think so. Play-Doh is... odd."
While Paine had been curiously exploring the wonders of children's play products on Kairi's desk, Kairi herself was making the long trek home, cursing the lack of cabs and cursing herself for wearing her suede lace-ups that day. But I can't honestly think of a pair of shoes that could've gone along any better with this skirt.
Yet no sooner had Kairi returned to her apartment, eager to fall into bed and sleep the rest of the day away...
"Excuse me, but you are Miss Kairi, correct?"
Barring her entrance to her apartment stood two lone figures-- the first very short and barrel-like, the second very slim and bird-like. Complete opposites for sure, disregarding the fact that even Kairi, in her sleepy stupor, somehow felt that there was something uncannily similar between the two of them.
"Mr. Tigi?"
"Ah, Miss Kairi! You remember Mr. Tigi! Good, good!" The plump man moved forward, away from his silent companion, taking up Kairi's petite hand in an enthusiastic shake, continuing all the while, "Amazing things, Miss Kairi! Amazing things Miss Aerith expects from you, truly, truly she does!"
With that, the second visitor came into play. Dressed in a long fur coat, her head was neatly covered in a delicate silk scarf, hair tucked possessively into it, only one thin brown tendril breaking free and falling over her face. Slender fingers reached up and removed a pair of casual sunglasses.
And when she spoke, Kairi felt she had never heard any words before-- any nothing, any something. She became aware of the fact that she stood across from one of the few revolutionary people still in existence.
"Kairi? I've been dying to meet you! I'm Aerith-- sorry for our abrupt arrival." Aerith laughed, covering her mouth prettily with one hand before adding, "It would have been more expected, but apparently Mr. Tigi can't seem to remember to make appointments or anything like that. Not very well, at any rate."
"I... um... w-would you like to come in?" Kairi asked lamely. As Aerith graciously stepped to the side and proceeded to make some idle comment about all the fall leaves just beginning to drop, Kairi anxiously moved forward to jab the key in the slot and shove open the door.
"Please to meet you... would you like some-- some tea? Cocoa? Coffee? Um... Water?" Kairi fingered the hem of her coat nervously, kicking a stray magazine under the sofa before hurrying to bury another beneath the cushions. Her company seemed unfazed-- they stood in the doorway, smiling pleasantly and removing their own coats at a leisurely old pace. Kairi's gaze lingered on the masses of rich fur adorning Aerith's and she seemed to catch the other woman's attention.
"It's not real." She smiled. "It's teddy bear fur. Genuine teddy bear fur."
"Oh."
"Miss Aerith is very much against killing bunnies," Mr. Tigi added helpfully.
"Would you... like help making tea?" Aerith's speech only faltered as she untied her scarf, shaking her head in some motion that struck Kairi as being altogether far too elegant to really be all that human. Torrents, waves, rivers of copper hair spilled free.
Kairi's eyes widened, but Aerith's cheerful smile never wavered. "Help?" Aerith prompted again. Kairi nodded dumbly.
The two of them set to work as Mr. Tigi seemed to get a kick out of simply walking around the room and providing his commentary on just about everything. Lovely couches-- how soft they look! Oh, but they're dead cows. So pretty, though, so dark and pretty. Did you take those photos on the wall, Miss Kairi? What charming people! Mr. Tigi very much enjoys charming people--
"Well look, a nice blanket!"
"Afghan?"
"It's my grandma's!"
"It's lovely, lovely!"
"...It is?"
Mr. Tigi shot her a broad grin. "Family heirlooms," he said, "are very amazing, do you not think so? Family heirlooms make for precious things-- even more precious than a mountain of dead-cow sofas."
Kairi smiled awkwardly. Aerith just laughed. Somehow Kairi couldn't shake the feeling that Aerith-- if nobody else-- knew that the Afghan was no family heirloom.
Some time later, Aerith's fingers closed gently around her small mug of tea as she leant forward earnestly and said, "So Kairi... I was hoping we might be able to get the measurements done today so you can get started on the gown. Is you schedule free for an hour or so?" She raised her tea to her lips and took a long and silent sip, watching Kairi carefully over the rim of her mug.
As she watched, she was watched in return. Kairi had never seen someone like Aerith before-- none of Paine' other clients could even compare to the woman sitting across from her at that moment. In all honesty, it made Kairi feel like some sort of brutish dwarf in comparison, though she would certainly never confess so to anyone but herself.
"No, no, not at all! I mean, I'm free-- er, I don't have plans or anything."
"Excellent! This won't take long." Aerith reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out a tape measure, just an ordinary tape measure. For a moment, Kairi was caught off guard. Whether she expected the tape measure to be made of gold or not-- who knows. But she was soon over her shock when Aerith laughed again, lightheartedly and perhaps even a little mockingly. Kairi could only smile herself as she understood that Aerith knew all the assumptions that could ever be made about her.
x x x
Soft and slippery, smooth, saucy... Saucy?
Riku frowned, his fingers pausing their descent towards the bucket of murky water at his side. Smooth. Down his hand went, a swish, a slurp, and again as his fingers skimmed over the surface-- not of the water, but of the lump of clay before him.
All around were shelves, mounds of this, that and the other, some glazed in bright and vivid colors, some a more natural and dusty tone. But they were everywhere, these creations-- plates, cups, saucers, jars, vases. Oh, but the sculptures-- the sculptures had them all bested, every last one of them. Horses, carriages, elves and mermaids, men, women, hands and faces, their mouths-- some pouting, some a softer sort of smile.
Soft...
His fingers worked away, pulling, stretching and molding the clay into some sort of form from deep inside his head. It was all there, but--
"Oh for God's sake."
Splat. His fist came down on his construction and his chair shoved roughly away from the wheel before him.
"Riku..." Nimble fingers trailed along his spine, a ghost of feeling left in their wake as they made their way downward... downward...
Downward...
"Leon!"
"Leon!"
"Riku?" Leon stood in the jarred doorway to Riku's studio. The fingers, the touch was gone. Back to a dark and musty basement, clay dust floating in drifts beneath the ceiling fan as it rotated on a slow, creaking motor within. Riku swallowed thickly, plunging his hands into the bucket beside him and washing the clay from them hurriedly.
Leon awkwardly took a step forward, took a step backward. Hung away from Riku, unsure of... "I came for my... I..." Leon sighed, running his fingers briskly through his hair. From his pocket he pulled a small silver key-- Riku had half expected a pocket knife. Please use it to cut the rest of my heart out, you fucking bastard.
Tossing the keys to Riku, Leon blinked as they hit the floor with a light clatter. Riku stared numbly at the clay before him. Leon... continued to hang back.
Refusing to talk about substance... Smooth, soft substance?
Sweat. Leon brushed his palms against his denim-covered thighs. His tongue flicked out, wet his lips nervously. Smooth, soft sweat?
"Do you... I wondered if I could pick up my book."
"Which one?"
"The green one."
It was there, of course, a scrap of paper tucked in the center, marking the spot where Riku had left off. Under a dust rag, under a sheaf of concept sketches, paintbrushes caked with dried and hardened glaze...
Riku practically chucked the book towards Leon-- not the brightest thing to do in a ceramics workshop. But Leon caught it deftly, turned it over in his hands, the cover facing up. For lack of anything else to do, his fingers ran thoughtfully over the words:
TRAGIC SENSE OF LIFE.
"Thanks," he muttered.
Riku said nothing.
He said nothing as Leon stood there awkwardly, just a moment longer. He said nothing as the thoughts ran through his mind-- desperate little thoughts hoping that he would hear an apology, an explanation. Anything. But Leon just shook his head and headed back up the stairs. And when he heard the door close quietly, calmly, and without any sort of emotion whatsoever... Riku still said nothing.
Two hours' time found him lying on his back on the floor, staring up at the fan above him. Every time it hit a point, a certain point in its rotation, the fan would let out this painful little creak. And in four or five seconds, it would come again.
Creeeak.
Creeeak.
Creeeak.
Some ways below the fan, Riku stared back at it, not blinking, not moving. His eyes focused on the light-bulbs and they burned into his skull something fierce and painful. In his left hand was a paintbrush he twirled around his fingers, in his right hand was a small lump of clay he crushed and molded as he pleased. He set up a pulsing rhythm that went along with the death calls of his fan. Creeeak, squish, flip. Creeeak, squish, flip.
And all the little mermaids and all the little horses and all the kings men lined up on the drying shelves along the walls-- they watched quietly as Riku's arm stretched up, his right arm, a flash, a pop, a tinkle of glass moving through air and headed downward, downward...
Downward...
"Fuck!" Riku winced in the darkness, feeling the remains of the bulb falling across his skin. Some of it hurt, but some of it was just cold. He rolled over and laid there for another hour, not in any particular rush to move very far or very fast.
x x x
Sora... wasn't quite sure what he'd gotten himself into.
He could remember bits and pieces of the past two, three hours. He could remember the CDs, the easy-going morning spent lounging around with Cloud, just mindlessly enjoying his company like some kind of lovesick drone. And there was a blank, a white, empty blank in his memory surrounding their walk. The last image he could manage to call to mind was of a kid on a porch spinning a top between his two hands.
And now...
The station was a mix between a laid-back lounge and a wired and reckless film set. The blue screen hung on the wall, a large and imposing looking computer situated across from it, cameras, microphones, lights and control panels scattered across the broad expanse of the room. Coat racks stacked with blazers and trench-coats, scarves and mittens, hats and mufflers.
Amidst it all stood Cloud, looking strangely out of the character that Sora had come to identify him with.
"Cloud, ready to go in five, ya?"
The blonde nodded steadily towards the man behind the camera. Sora could vaguely remember him introducing himself as Bokka or Chokka or something equally ridiculous. It was a roomful of loud strangers bonding over cups of cheap and watery coffee, but Sora had never felt more at ease than he did then, just looking in on them all as a quiet spectator of something so simple...
But Cloud, he--
No smiles, no music, no jive. No nothing from him as he brooded over his own styrofoam cup clasped between his two pale hands. The two of them, Cloud and Sora, sat on a battered sofa facing away from the set, neither saying a word. At least, not until Cloud looked up and quietly began to speak, his voice deeper and harsher than Sora remembered it being.
"You're okay?"
"Mm." Sora nodded earnestly and took a deep gulp from his own cup, nearly gagging on the steaming liquid that streamed down his throat and burned his poor defenseless stomach.
"You can tell me if you're not, you know..."
"I'm fine, really."
"...Alright."
Sora looked hesitantly up at Cloud from over the white rim of his cup, studying the blonde who, in turn, was busy studying the ground. You could take a picture of him for a National Geographic. He's just so natural all the time, it's hard to believe the Cloud I know seems so different from this one. Are they both real? Both of them seem... Sluuurp. Smack, smack.
"Hey Cloud?"
"Hn?"
"...Could I get some more coffee?" The very thought of drinking more honestly made Sora's stomach clench and whine pitifully, but it was all mere background noise to the mental victory fanfare going off in Sora's head as Cloud shot him a warm, broad grin.
"Sure."
x x x
Several minutes later, Sora made his quiet exit from the weather station, bidding Cloud farewell from behind the camera. And even through his professional cover of Mr. Weather, Cloud still managed to shoot him a small, out-of-character smile that left most crew members reeling and checking the set later to make sure bad lighting wasn't playing tricks on their eyes.
Sora, on the other hand, was unbelievably satisfied as he made his way out of the building and onto the streets. The taste of his own bile had long since been replaced with the taste of bad coffee, and even though it probably seemed like a rather idiotic idea, Sora couldn't help but eye the bar across the street with increasing interest. So he simply caved and strolled on in.
But who should he find seated on a cold and lowly bar stool? Why, none other than--
"So, you taking my old job, huh, Sora?"
"Wh-- Tidus!"
The warm and perpetually tanned face of his childhood friend shone back at Sora through bleached bangs. A cocky grin, a sort of assurance that didn't exist anywhere else on the face of the earth. "In the flesh," Tidus said.
"Hey man! I thought you were outta town! Weren't you and Selph going to visit your..." But that was where Sora stopped, for he noticed the flinch and he noticed the way Tidus looked down, looked away. And so he was forced to ask, "...What happened, Tidus?"
"...She left, man," came a quiet response. "She just left."
"I... I'm sorry."
"...Heh. Three weeks 'til the big day, yanno? Just three weeks and she left."
"...C-Can I ask what happened?"
Tidus heaved a small sigh, mouth puckering in to a frown as his fingertips ran across the rim of the empty glass in front of him. "I don't know. I don't even know and... God, I just don't know."
He seemed to think about his words for a minute and shook his head, continuing awkwardly, "I mean, I do. I mean, what happened... I know. But. It. I was just out having a drink. And... she came in and she said... She said, like, 'Tidus, I have to go.' And I... I guess I was kinda not there or something. I mean, I'd been getting nervous and I guess, maybe I had one too many. So I said, 'And I have to get another drink...' Or... something. And she said it again, she said, 'No, no, Tidus. I mean it. I have to go. You understand, right?'"
"And she left and I didn't understand and I didn't understand until I got back to the hotel and her stuff was gone and her key was on the table." "No note, no... nothing. Her cell's off, no one knows..." "No one knows where she is."
"...God, Tidus..."
"Three weeks. I had the tux and everything, man. I had the tux and everything. All we had to do was just say a few stupid words. And that woulda been it."
"Well damn. Enough of my lame story. What're you doing hanging around with Strife, man? He's always acting like he's got a ten foot pole shoved up his ass."
"...Eh?" The back of Sora's mind carefully pointed out that Tidus must have been sitting on that bar stool for one hell of a long time if he'd caught a glimpse of Sora and Cloud entering the weather station across the street.
"Yeah. Man, he's one cooold sonofabitch." Before Sora had a chance to object, Tidus switched topics, suddenly asking, "Say, how're you and Kairi doing?"
Crap, I didn't realize how long it'd been since I talked to Tidus. He doesn't even know! "...Ah... w-we broke up..."
"No shit." Tidus seemed to roll the words over in his mind a few times before he finally perked up. "No shit, huh? HAH! Must be fate we met up like this. Now we can both feel like shit together!"
Erm. Hm. Somehow I don't think this is going the way it's supposed to be. And so Sora tired again. "No, no, no, it-- it's not like that, it..."
"Ah, come on, Sora! Have a drink!" Waving off Sora's objections with a carefree hand, Tidus turned to the bartender eagerly, saying, "Sir, can I have a strawberry daquiri for the squirt? You never really could handle much of any drink, could you, Sora? You don't really look like you could, either. Way too puny. We should work on you. You could come to the gym with me, we could swim a few laps. Cardiovascular, and whatever-the-heck." Pause. Blink. Painful realization. "Selph used to come to the gym with me."
"Tidus, you're completely misunderstanding this."
"See, now that you and Kairi split and me and Selph-- well, something happened... Now that all that went down, why don't we go back to our first love, eh?"
No way does he mean that the way it sounds like he means that. "...WHAT."
"Blitzball!"
"...Oh. Blitzball."
"Yeah, man! I hear Traverse High's been looking for some coaches for their team. Whaddya say? We could seeeriously whip those kids into shape. Sounds like fun, huh?"
"Tidus... um..."
"No better way to get over it all than to blitz." The bartender slid the cheerful pink drink across the counter, Tidus' outstretched hand catching it with ease as he passed it on over to Sora with an optimistic little grin. "You still have our old ball?"
"Well, yeah, I mean..."
"Great! Come on, Sora, let's go get it. We can take it to the park and just throw it around and--"
"Ti--"
"Or in your backyard, I guess. You ever clean that place up?"
"Tidus--"
"Nah, guess not. Well, we could clean up your backyard first and--"
"We already did."
"...How? That place was a total--"
"Cloud, uh... You know. Cloud. He helped me."
"...Whoa, Strife helped you do yard work, man? ...Daaamn."
"It's not like that."
"Like what?"
Damn, this is getting really frustrating. "...Okay, Tidus. I need you to listen for a moment. I need you to say absolutely nothing for just, like... five-- no, too hard... um, two minutes. Can you do that?"
"Uh. Sure."
"Promise?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"I think I'm gay."
"...Christ, Sora!"
"No, no! You promised!"
"I mean... Good God!"
"Tidus!"
"You're a homo!"
"No, no, no, shut up!"
"But you've slept over at my house, like... thirty times!"
"Tidus!"
"Okay, okay, hold up. You're not like... gay on me or anything, are you?"
It was here that Sora had to stop for a moment to gather his tattered little bearings. ...Once that was settled, he proceeded to fix Tidus with the look that he reserved specifically for his bizarre blonde buddy. "Gay... on you?"
"..."
"...God, no."
"Hey. If I were gay, I'd totally be gay on me."
"I'm not 'gay on you!' It was Riku!"
"...Ohhhh. Yeah, I always thought you two were a little too friendly, if you know what I mean."
"Tidus!"
"Okay, okay, whatever. Shutting up. Though it's definitely been two minutes."
"And you were talking!"
"Not the point."
"Okay. Listen. I told Riku. And bad things happened."
"Hey yeah, he's queer, right?"
"How come Riku gets to be called queer and I'm just gay on people?"
"...Well I mean come on. Just look at Riku."
"Shut up! You're supposed to be quiet!"
"Not my fault you're gay all over everyone."
"I'm not!"
"So now you're out of the closet, but you're in denial. The hell's wrong with you, man?"
"I'm not out of a closet, I'm not in denial! I'm trying to talk to you!"
"...Okay."
"Thank you."
"...Hey, but isn't Riku with that, ah..." Tidus tapped one finger against his chin thoughtfully, trying to place some vague, pretty-boy face with some vague, pretty-boy name. "You know..." He drummed his fingers against the counter... "Hm..." He tapped his foot against his stool... "Like..."
"Tall, brown haired, creepy guy with the scar?" Sora provided.
"Yeah, that's the one."
"Leon."
"Knew his name started with an 'E.'"
"It doesn't. 'Leon' starts with an 'L.' Idiot."
"Hey, don't get started with name-calling just because you can't pronounce the guy's name."
"Anyway. ...We had a bit of a fight."
"Catty."
"Something like that. I guess I sort of said their relationship was utter bull because Riku and Leon never really do anything together but have sex."
"Well, that's one sure-fire way to piss a guy off. Good God, Sora."
"I didn't know I was doing it at the time..."
"...Hey, it's cool, man. Just chill. It's no big deal. There are plenty of other... ah, silvery man-fish in the sea or whatever the hell. ...Good God, Sora! Man-fish! Whyyy?"
Sora just stared blankly at Tidus as his poor old friend struggled to come to terms with a sexuality that wasn't even his.
"Okay. ...Okay. ...O-kaaay. It's cool, seriously. Listen. Okay. Here's what we're gonna do..."
x x x
Sora arrived home that evening, a newspaper clipping in one hand, his house keys in the other. The empty mugs of tea from that morning sat out on the counter, one right beside the other, cold, for sure, but probably not lonely. With that in mind, Sora assured himself that there was absolutely nothing wrong with leaving the mugs there to bond overnight as he scuffled towards his bedroom.
His keys and the scrap of paper made their way to the beside table. He made his way under the covers and told himself that a little nap was all he needed and he'd be just fine when he woke up. And yet as he rolled onto his side and began to allow himself to drift off, the last thing he saw was the paper and the last words he read were nothing but a fragment...
"Needed: Blitzball Coa--"
Blitzball... Yeah, maybe Tidus is right. Maybe I should go back to doing fun things. Blitz was fun... Maybe I should...
(x) (x) (x)
Hopefully the looong chapter length made up for the looong gap between updates. On the bright side, I actually KNOW what the next chapter is going to be about! (This is rare for me.) So look for an update in the near future. In the meantime, reviews are sweet, sweet can-dy you kno-ow you want to give me.