Prompt - "Bananas"

Given by - Hiza-chan

Disclaimer - KH2 not mine


Unnerving.

The black band was smooth against my skin, but heavy, feeling like a liquid pooled around my eyes. The time it took for him to wind the cloth around my head, left me blissfully unaware at the disadvantages I faced. Every time I tried to force my eyes to open, I would only see an endless sea of folded shadows.

It was always strange when Axel decided that he needed to train my senses.

"It's for the best," he insisted. "Because spending so much time in darkness numbs the senses."

I never questioned him. I just always figured that he knew from personal experience.

So whether it was straining to hear his inaudible whispers across the room, or recognizing the weight of a marble in my palm, I always accepted his lessons, unusual or not.

"What is it?" He whispered, plopping a freshly cut piece of fruit into my mouth.

I rolled the blunt, sugary object on my tongue, before closing my mouth completely, letting the natural juices seep onto my pallet.

"A plantain." I whispered around the obstruction in my mouth.

"And why is it not a banana?" he urged on.

I slowly chewed the fruit.

"It's too stiff, not as sweet as a banana, but starchy and pulpy."

"Excellent."

His smile was nearly tangeable.


He was a good teacher, strange in his methods, but he always hounded me until I had every texture memorized on my tongue and in my hands.

One day, when he came to visit, he seemed quite frenzied. I could taste the ash that lingered on in his scent, and I hear every quiver in his breath as he grabbed my hand, and placed it in his own.

"What is this, Riku." He choked out.

I blanched, but responded.

"Your hand, Axel."

We sat together hand in hand for a moment that seemed out of place, and incorrect. He eventually left, without another word to me.

There were other days like this, where he would catch me unaware and entwine our fingers, telling me that each callous and each crease in his palm needed to be remembered. Some sort of validation, I suppose.

The air would always smell of fire, and Axel would always seem to loose his omniscient demeanor.

I imagined that if I lifted my hand to touch his shoulders, his muscles would be tense, like a prowling cat. On his face, soft, chapped lips, and the taste would be too sweet, overripe, and burning to the touch.

It was.

Unnerving.


Review?