A/N: Thanks again to all those who reviewed! Much appreciated.

Yay, I finally get to introduce Axel and Roxas properly! Sorry they weren't added sooner – it wasn't until this chapter came along that I decided to fully develop their characters.I hope you all enjoy this chapter anyways! Happy readings!

XX-diamonds-XX

Summary: AU: Riku's band has the chance of a lifetime--they've finally made it to the Nationals. Between a wild road trip to the finals, band bonding and heated rivalry, which band will rise above the rest for a shot at fame? Sokai, Namiku, AkuRoku. Rated for strong language and suggestive themes.

Disclaimer: Nope! I own nothing! All belongs to Disney and Square-enix!

LiD: Rise and Crescendo

Chapter Five: A Very Early Morning Stroll

BZZZZZZT.

Riku shifted. He was so damn tired after a long day of driving, and he was in no mood to get up. Whatever the hell that noise is, it better turn itself off!

BZZZZZZT.

Ugh, shut up already!

BZZZZZZT.

Riku groaned and opened one eye to glare at whatever it was making that noise. Unsuccessful, he rubbed his eyes before propping himself on his elbows.

BZZZZZZT.

"For crying out loud," he muttered to himself. He threw off the covers, and shaking his hair out of his eyes, glanced at the night table beside his couch. To his annoyance, he found his cell phone vibrating. Damn. If it was his father again…fury ignited in his stomach, his face changing to one of scorn. His father had tried calling Riku a couple of times over the past few days, and he regretted the one time he did answer, only to receive an earful of, "Where the hell are ya?" and "You get your ass back over here now!" Any hopes of Riku having his father take a turn for the better fell flat after that phone call.

BZZZZZZT.

Not wanting to wake anyone, he picked his phone up. He started when he saw who was calling, and glanced at the time: 1:27 a.m. He flipped it open.

"Hello?" he asked quietly.

"Hey hey brudda, how ya been doin'?" a male voice answered. His voice was light, yet heavily accented, and he didn't sound the least bit tired. Huh.

"Wakka? What are you doing up at this hour?" Riku replied, casting a look over at his friends to make sure they were still sleeping. Getting up quietly, he made his way towards the door outside.

"Heh heh. Well…this seemed like the best time to talk, ya? I dunno… but just listen, ya?" The air outside was cool, and Riku made his way towards the end of the walkway, where he couldn't disturb anyone. He furrowed his brows.

"What's up?" An uneasy feeling had settled in his stomach; something had to be wrong if Wakka was calling him this late into the night. He'd known Wakka for a couple of years now, considering they had shared a majority of their classes together. And he knew Wakka only stayed up this late if something was on his mind.

"Well…look. I know you didn't leave on good terms with your old man, ya? Well…"

Riku blinked—even though he knew Wakka couldn't see him.

"What?"

"Hey now, I told you to listen, all right? Look, your dad's been worried—" Riku snorted.

"Didn't sound like he was worried."

"—He's been calling and asking about you—"

Riku rolled his eyes. Bullshit. "Yeah?" Riku snapped, temper rising. "Why would that be? So he can find out where I am, and chew me out, telling me how I'm wasting my time? Huh?" In the back of his mind, Riku knew it wasn't fair to take this out on Wakka, but anger clouded his sense.

"Riku…

"No—you listen. I already told him where I was going! If he had bothered to listen, bothered to care, that asshole wouldn't have to ask!"

"Maybe you should try talking to him—" Riku gripped the cold iron bar of the railing, clenching his teeth.

"No!" he hissed. "We have nothing to say to each other. And you can damn well tell him to stop calling me, 'cause there's no way in hell I'm answering!" Riku was breathing hard, the fury in his stomach roaring. Figures! The bastard is using my friends now too! The passing breeze did nothing to cool him down.

Wakka sighed on the other end of the line. Okay, okay. Calm down, mon. At least I can tell him I tried

"Wakka, I gotta go—"

"Yeah, I know. Sorry for calling you so late…but I didn't want anyone else awake, ya? I know you're a light sleeper. Just…think about it. Take care, and call me when you guys get to Twilight City, ya?"

"Yeah, fine, whatever," Riku sighed, regretting the outburst on his good friend. "And Wakka? Look just… don't listen to my dad anymore, okay?" Wakka gave a humourless laugh, and the two exchanged goodbyes before Riku flipped his phone shut.

Taking a deep breath, he rested his elbows on the railing, hands raised to support his head.

Worried? Ha, yeah right. His father was anything but. He'd never shown any kind of emotion towards Riku since his mother passed away six years ago. His mother had been the glue of the family; without her…

Riku rubbed his tired eyes. First Sora, and now this…what was this, Let's-Gang-up-on-Riku-Day?

Phone in hand, he made his way back towards their room. Settling back on to his makeshift bed, his mind was anywhere but on sleep.

LiD

The sun's rays were shining dully through the array of clouds, drifting endlessly in the sky. The surrounding trees, lush with early summer air, filtered the little breeze that sifted through. A sea of black had settled before a raised statue, a hush rippling through the crowd.

Naminé, to her great anguish, found herself seated once again amidst the sea of black, the statue in direct line of her sight.

No…

"Friends, family, staff…We're gathered around today to mourn the passing of our beloved Headmaster…"

Her eyes shifted focus to the delicate woman standing before them. A long swaying black dress flowed around her, a matching black ribbon intertwined into her bronzed braid. Professor Gainsborough. Tears shimmered lightly behind her pale blue eyes, as she delivered her speech. Naminé didn't want to do this, not again.

She yearned to feel the sun's touch, a distant part of her mind hoping that it would melt away the chill that had nestled into her bones. But no; a bitter frost lined Naminé's heart. Her bones felt stiff; her breathing restricted.

There were no tears.

She didn't understand. Not then—not now. Good people weren't supposed to die. What did they do to deserve it? They—he—couldn't die. Too many people needed him!

Naminé took a deep breath. Stop. Control yourself. But how could she? Emotions thundered through her, each one scorching her worst than the last.

Naminé glanced at the friends sitting on either side of her. Their faces turned towards the podium, eyes full of sorrow and brimming with tears.

But not hers.

I will not cry.

"He was a brilliant man, a bold man, and he was a beautiful man. He saw the art, the talent in the dedication in all of our students here today…"

The world distorted before her eyes.

"Naminé?"

She turned around, only to find herself standing in a large piano room. The Academy…Her eyes roamed the room, tall glass windows making up large portions of the wall. The Academy garden bloomed outside, bordering the outdoor verandah.

"Naminé, come here." Her eyes followed the direction of the voice, landing to her right, landing on to…

Ansem. Her Headmaster. Her teacher.

Stunned, Naminé moved carefully towards him, her steps small and swift, not believing what she was seeing before her eyes. He was sitting before the grand piano, hands rested in his lap.

"Headmaster." She breathed when she stood beside him. She wanted to reach out and touch him; she wanted to know if he was there. If he was real. If you're here…?

"Come sit, Naminé. Have you been practicing on that flute I give you?" Naminé felt herself blush. But this isn't real…

Hesitating for a moment, she carefully sat down, head bowed down, and watched her Headmaster through the wisps of blonde hair shading her eyes. Ansem raised his own white-blonde eyebrows expectantly at her, a gentle smile gracing his features.

"Kind of…" she answered meekly, staring out the window to her left. Chuckling, Ansem raised his hands over the piano keys.

"Well let's see what you've got." He pressed down on the keys.

However, she never heard a sound. When she turned her head to see why he wasn't playing, he was gone.

He wasn't coming back.

Naminé's throat had tightened; her heartbeat picked up, thundering in her ears. No! I wouldn't—I can't…!

A hand touched her shoulder. Naminé blinked, and realizing where she was, her fists clenched her black skirt.

"Ansem, in his brilliance, helped to hire others by helping to fund for Crystal FissureStudios, right down the street where he always loved to walk. Everyday, most would see him out early, with his favourite sweatshirt on—yes, that one, as you all remember—" Professor Gainsborough chuckled warmly here "—and spread his love for the arts even more. By fulfilling the dreams of so many here, he managed to fulfill his own."

Naminé felt nothing. Emptiness clouded her mind—it was all she could do to control the pain.

The Professor collected herself before continuing, gazing over the large audience before her. "As I step to take his place, I can only hope to be half the Headmaster that our dear Ansem the Wise was. And I'm sure all of us—staff, students, family, and friends—carry on his spirit within us, and I promise that Radiant Garden will continue to glow with his pride of our talent and dedication."

Sniffs and sobs could be heard all around, as students and staff alike held hands in solace and comfort. Naminé's friend, Marina, grasped her hand, resting her head on her shoulder.

"It'll be okay…" she whispered. Naminé bit her lip. Honestly, what is crying going to accomplish? It won't bring him back, no matter how much you beg, and scream inside, no matter how much it hurts. Nothing would ever make this feeling go away, she was sure of it.

Marina started to cry softly beside her. Naminé so desperately wanted to join her, then.

No… I won't… her eyes began to prickle…

… I have to be strong… I can do this… for him… Marina clasped her hand tighter…

… For me… a hard lump formed in her throat…

… Please… she tried to swallow, but her tongue was dry… so dry…

"… His legacy be carried on through the forthcoming generations. May his spirit soar through the heavens; may his light never die. Above all, may he rest eternally in peace…"

Naminé shut her eyes to stop the tears, and when she opened them, her world was black.

LiD

Naminé forced her eyes open, her breathing deep and rapid. She quickly covered her mouth so the others wouldn't hear her and wake up; especially the slumbering Kairi.

Naminé rolled onto her back, resting a hand over her eyes, trying to regain control of her breathing. Her throat was dry as ever, the lump still there, and when she pulled her hand away, it was moist. From tears or sweat, Naminé couldn't say.

Her head was still swirling with remnants from the dream – Why that dream? – and she was feeling restless. Naminé sat up and glanced at the clock. 2:54 a.m.

She sighed. She wasn't going to go back to sleep anytime soon. Naminé glanced over at her companions, whom she almost forgot were there. Riku was still sleeping on the couch, one hand tucked under his pillow. She noticed that his face was set in a deep frown; eyebrows furrowed. She hoped he was still asleep, though. Looking over at Sora… well, Sora's leg was sprawled over on top of Tidus, while Tidus was holding on to it. Naminé did a double take. Was Tidus… chewing on Sora's toe? She shuddered. If Kairi were awake now, she would have squealed at the photo-op moment. Naminé smiled half-heartedly to herself. And then blackmail them with it…

Carefully, not wanting to disturb Kairi—who really slept through anything—she climbed off the bed. She went over to her bag, and started to search through it, looking for the one thing that at times like these, could calm her mind down.

Naminé pulled the small case out, and assembled what she needed. Holding the delicate silver gift in her hands, she walked over to the door, and pulled it open quietly. She needed fresh air, but more importantly, she needed to be alone.

Crisp night air touched her face, caressing her shoulders. She shivered at the slight cold, but it felt refreshing. Looking up, she saw a pitch-black stage, with wispy clouds for curtains, and stars finding their moment to shine.

She walked to the end of the railed walkway, where there were no rooms to disturb. Perfect. She raised the small instrument to her lips, slowly losing herself in the soft notes, letting them float along with the light wind passing by.

LiD

The redhead sat on the couch in front of the small television, his feet propped up on the table before him with a lit cigarette in his mouth, all the while his other hand played with his favourite lighter. There were, of course, better things he could have been playing with at the moment. But, he realized, 

as he shot a glance over to his blonde-haired companion, he couldn't have his cake and eat it too. His emerald green eyes lit up in amusement.

The said blonde-haired companion was sitting on his left. Unlike his own relaxed pose, this one was perched on the edge of the couch, hood up and eyes wide as he watched the movie playing before them. The blonde's tense knuckles gripped the seat while he bit his lip anxiously, and oh, was the redhead jealous. Hmph. These retarded movies always scared the crap outta his paranoid best friend, but for some reason, he always came back for more. Dammit it all, if only he could have the same effect on the blonde.

"Did you see him?" A cute brunette panted on the screen, grabbing her friend's shoulders. Pffft, the girls a moron. Probably learned to act off the internet.

"No—I think he went upstairs. But Maki! Ash is gone!" The brunette widened her eyes in horror. Why won't they hurry up and die?

"No! We have to find him! What if he—AHHHHHH!"

"SHIT!" The blonde swore loudly as he slammed himself backwards into the couch. His blue eyes, however, were still glued to the screen as he hugged his knees to his chest.

Axel rolled his eyes. "About bloody time."

Some loser with a machete and really bad haircut had jumped from the stairs, striking at the girls. Without even watching, he knew how the plot would work out: the killer would start with the horniest guy first—which meant Axel's luck would run out pretty fast, if he did say so himself. Then the same man-beast-freak-thing would go on to mutilate everyone save one person—usually the hottest girl—who would run away, but then later (or perhaps in a sequel), the killer would come back to finish off the job. Holy crap, he thought dryly, chewing lightly on his cigarette. What a stupid, gay-ass movie.

And he hated gore.

He shot a sideways glance to his still-uneasy friend. The dumbass still hadn't moved forward from his spot. Sighing, he reached over and pulled off his friend's hood, revealing his tuft of blonde hair that scattered in every which direction. His friend straightened.

"What?" he said, indignantly.

"Roxas, you fag, it's just a stupid movie," Axel deadpanned, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray.

"So?" Roxas retorted. "I can still watch." Axel snorted, picking up the remote and hit pause.

"Hey!" Roxas squared his jaw; his brows furrowed. Axel contemplated pushing Roxas's buttons even further, if he could get a pout out of the blondie.

He held the remote away from Roxas. "For the love of—stop already. You've watched three hack-and-slash movies non-stop. It's almost three-friggin'-a.m!"

"Give-me-the-remote!" The enraged blonde swiped for the control, and missed; Axel smirked as he saw the boy ready to pounce. Ah… if only the circumstances were different… but wait.

Roxas jumped, elbowing him in the chest as he reached around for the remote.

"Friggin' idiot!! I wanna finish the movie!"

"Whatever. You just wanna see the hottie in the white shirt run through the rain at the end." Roxas glared.

"That's you, moron. I actually care about the plot." Axel rolled his eyes again—this could go on forever.

"Whatever! Axel says bedtime!" And thinking fast, Axel went and shoved the remote down his own pants. And there are better ways to spend the night.

Roxas froze. Almost as if he knew what his friend was thinking.

Axel grinned with amusement, "Come get it now, if you want it so bad."

Roxas retreated sulkily and regained his composure. "No-friggin'-way." He threw him a would-be withering look, had it not been mixed with disturbance. Axel flicked his eyebrows up mischievously, and responded with,

"Bedtime then, sweetheart."

Roxas stood up quickly, and glared at him.

"Screw you," he said, as he stormed over to the TV, and hit the play button. "If you don't want to watch, then you can take your stupid, ugly ass outside." Axel raised an eyebrow. Awww. Roxas is getting all huffy.

"How do you know it's ugly? I haven't invited you to look—well not yet, anyways," he added slyly. Roxas grumbled something he didn't understand, and shot him a death glare as he seated himself back on the couch. Axel heaved a dramatic sigh.

"Fine. I'll just leave; I know where I'm not wanted." He stood up and headed for the door.

Roxas shifted uncomfortably. "Dude, I didn't mean—"

Axel laughed. "I'll see in a few, okay?" He then tossed the remote towards Roxas, which he caught single-handedly. But then his eyes widened in horror and he dropped it, knowing full well where it had been moments ago.

After a moment's pause in which Roxas wiped his hands clean, he muttered reluctantly, "Yeah, just be careful."

"Don't worry, "Axel offered cheerfully. "If there are any psycho butchers on the rampage, you'll hear my finger nails clawing on the door as my brains leak out from my nose."

"Haha. Very funny."

"You should see it from the door crack, before he barges in," Axel warned theatrically. Roxas backed into the couch at this, trying to look annoyed. But the chalky colour of his face gave it all away.

"Ju-just go."

Axel laughed; the blondie was so cute when he tried to act all tough. Shaking his red hair as he stepped outside, he closed the door on the loud screams and massacre coming from within.



LiD

The cool, night air was refreshing, Axel had to admit. He was feeling nauseated after sitting through three—three—horror movies straight. As much as he enjoyed Roxas' company, crazy mad men who butchered their victims like pigs in a meat factory was just not his thing. Only a few days to go before they reached their destination, and Roxas was pissing himself scared. Idiot.

He threw a look over his shoulder, before deciding to take out his lighter, and noticed that the room next door had turned off its lights—guess Demyx and Xiggy are asleep. Huh. He shrugged and went back to looking over the parking lot, a small flame ignited in his hand. A cold breeze clawed past him, killing the flame—holy shit, stupid Roxas just had to kick him out.

Leaning against the railway outside their room, Axel stood with now only light breezes passing by, watching the wispy summer clouds simmer past the moonlight. Axel wrapped his arms around himself, wearing only a white undershirt and black sleeper pants. It could have been rather romantic—he supposed—if he just had…

… Ah. His vision had strayed towards the end of the walkway, a silver glint catching his eye. That skirt could do quite nicely.

It was the blondie. The same wussy one who had been scared of big bad Axel breathing fire down her neck. Pfffft; at least she was smart. She stood against the moonlight, playing a silver flute gently. A small smile crept on to his lips, as his bright green eyes narrowed. Her own eyes were closed—too bad; little blondie doesn't know what's coming.

Slipping over subtly, he began to saunter down the railed walkway towards her. An obvious blonde—she didn't even notice him approaching as she was so caught up in her music. Not that Axel had anything against blondes. They seemed to attract him like flies to friggin' shit.

As he moved closer, he could hear the soft notes more clearly. Her delicate fingers moved over the holes, but not as effortlessly as he was expecting. A newbie, he assumed.

Axel contemplated saying something, but decided she might not even hear him—completely ruining the effect. Where would the fun be in that?

She suddenly stopped playing. She threw a cautious glance over either side of her shoulders. "Hello?"

Axel smirked.

As he waited in the shadows, he took in her form. She was petite; her limbs slender and lean. Not much of a chest though, he noticed disappointedly. Her hair was smooth and fell in light strands around her face, sheltering her eyes. She was clothed in tank top and sleeper pants, deliciously revealing the paleness of her arms and shoulders. Cute. He watched as she raised her flute back up to her pale pink lips, and resumed playing.

Roxas needs to learn the definition of real fun.

He softly approached her from behind, keeping his breathing quiet. Once he stood towering over her, he leaned over, and blew softly on her neck.

She jumped. Before she could do anything else, Axel had wound one arm around her waist, the other quickly muffling her cry.

"Mmphh!" The blonde struggled against him briefly; Axel, laughing quietly, whipped her around, hand still covering her mouth.

"Shhhh! Don't want to wake anyone up, now do we?" he was smirking, but his eyes had narrowed. Her reaction had amused him. Nice entrance.

The girl visibly stiffened, and just as quickly, smacked his arm away.

"What do you want?" her voice quiet, shaking slightly. He could tell she was trying to retain her composure. Oh, this was going to be fun all right.

Axel mocked an innocent smile. "Well, hun, I just thought you might want some company." His voice teased, "Didn't know little girls went out to play after dark…" He raised his fire-red eyebrows expectantly. "So, little blondie, now that I'm here, what do you want to play?"

She threw him a look of disgust. "I have a name."

Axel laughed at her weak attempt at boldness. Ah, the shy ones were always an easy target. Leaning in close, he whispered,

"Oh? Well babe, care to share?" She looked away. "Oh, come on, I told you mine. Remember?" he chastised.

"N-Naminé. And I remember you—Axel." He reached up and ruffled her hair.

"Good girl." Naminé scowled, and he caught her glancing at something further along behind him. A door.

"Ah… so that's where the little princess's guards are hiding, hmm?" he said, catching on. Yeah, Axel remembered them. The auburn chick and the puny little brown-haired fag that had interrupted his fun.

"What do you want?" Naminé emphasized, taking a step back. She clutched her flute close to her chest. Axel rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not interested in the tube."

"That's Naminé!" It was clear she was becoming flustered—and he was enjoying every minute of it.

Axel shook out his fire-red hair, and sprawled out against the railway behind him, resting his hands down as well. Too bad he was in her way—she couldn't leave now. Behind her was a solid dead end, or the narrow path he'd created for her past him. Yes… too bad indeed.

Naminé, however, was maintaining her distance. She watched him warily, while her body remained tense.

"C'mon, relax, will ya? I won't bite." He flashed his teeth, before raising an eyebrow. Naminé shifted. "So, what are you doing out here? And at three in the morning?"

The small blonde sighed, and averted her gaze. No doubt she was confused by him—making small talk, all the while practically leering down at her.

"What's it to you?" she answered, returning with a glare. Ooh. Touchy.

Axel huffed. "Just asking." He pulled out a cigarette, and began to light it. He noticed her glaring at him with disgust.

"Want one?" he asked casually, offering her the pack. If she was gonna go ahead and friggin' stare.

"No thanks," Naminé answered, miffed.

"You still haven't answered my first question."

"And you haven't answered mine," she retorted, and then turned away. "Get lost."

"Wow—bitch much?" Axel muttered. He could only control his language for so long, dammit. Naminé rubbed her temples.

"Look, I don't need this—not now. If you could just—" she froze. In the blink of an eye, Axel was standing before her, his hand cupping her face.

"Not feeling well?" he whispered with mock-concern into her ear. He slowly pulled his head back, lips lightly grazing her jaw line. He was holding his cigarette in his other hand between his first two fingers, while the rest trailed their way down her bare arm. Naminé's breathing was uneven, and her muscles had tensed. His fingers came to rest on her elbow, and he slid them around until his arm encircled her waist. He tugged her until she was uncomfortably close, and she squirmed.

She stopped moving, and when his green eyes met her blue ones, he saw that they had widened in fear. Being so close to her, his eyes flicked to her lips before he met her eyes intensely. He put on his most devastating smile.

"Let me help you feel better, hm?"

Naminé started to shrink away from him, but he was still holding on to her arm. Heh—worked every friggin' time. People scare way too easily… he could remember this for Roxas, later. Leaning in closer, Axel couldn't resist a smirk.

"I—"

"She's feeling fine. Now get lost." Harsh words ripped through the curtain of Axel's enjoyment. Dammit all, and the show had just begun.

Naminé started and stiffened in his grip; if possible, her eyes got even wider. Axel eased a glance over his shoulder, unperturbed. He rolled his eyes mentally. Bloody friggin' brilliant.

"Come to join the party?" he said, breezily. He watched as the owner of the deep voice shifted into his view. Long, silver hair framed his face in a harsh cut; his deep aqua eyes pierced through the darkness. He was dressed in a baggy, sleeve-less navy blue shirt, with grey flannel pants.

"R-Riku!" Naminé squeaked. Ah, Riku. Wasn't this loser from the motel lobby, too? Yeah… and there was another blonde there as well… Hmm… if the rest decided to show up…

He noticed Riku taking slow, careful steps towards him, one fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

Axel sighed, and calmly released her from his arms. But not before throwing in, "Too bad—and it was just getting started." He looked over at her, and caught her sapphire eyes with his own. Guess the fun is over. Well… Swiftly, Axel dipped forwards and snatched her right hand, raising it to his lips. "Maybe next time, then, huh?" he said, as his lips brushed her knuckles.

Before he knew it, he was shoved up against one of the pillars aligned with the railing, an arm fiercely pinning him across the chest.

"You—!"

Axel laughed derisively. Damn…If looks could kill…

"Riku!" Naminé whispered urgently. She glanced around her, seeing if they had caused a commotion. Riku still hadn't let go of him, his eyes hard and inflamed with anger.

"What's wrong—was I playing on private property?" Riku shoved him further, taking the wind out of him.

"Shut up!" Axel couldn't resist a grin; his breathing was shallower, and it was becoming difficult to form any more words, but he was clearly enjoying himself.

"Riku!" He watched as Naminé placed a gentle, yet firm hand on Riku's bicep, trying to pull him away. "Please!"

After a moment's pause, he let go. Riku bowed his head, silver wisps covering his eyes, and tried to level his breathing.

"Get out."

Axel brushed himself off and smirked. "I am outside." Dumbass.

"Just go!" he hissed, taking a step closer.

Axel took one last drag of his smoke, while shoving his left hand carelessly into his pocket, and said,

"Relax, man. I was done with her anyways. She's all yours now." With that, he threw the cigarette stick on the ground, and crushed it with his shoe. He flipped Naminé a wink.

"See you around."

He turned around and headed back to his room—I think I've been outside damn long enough, anyways—and left them to watch his retreating back.

LiD

Riku and Naminé stood facing the direction Axel had left, and an ominous silence had fallen around them. Inside though, Riku was reeling. Hell—

He whirled around, his eyes bright and livid.

"What were you doing out here? Alone?" he breathed. Naminé stepped back, searching desperately for words. She quickly averted her eyes.

"I-I was just—" she stammered. He barely noticed that her right hand was tucked behind her back, the other rubbing her shoulder awkwardly.

"What is wrong with you? We're in a friggin' motel! Not a hotel suite!" he stormed, taking a step forward. His anger and frustration were reaching their peaks—Damn! He was pissed. Pissed 'cause people weren't leaving him alone. Pissed 'cause his father was rallying his friends against him. Pissed 'cause Naminé had scared the crap out of him! Blind rage shrouded his mind—the way he had found Axel dangerously close to Naminé, towering over her, feeling her up like she was his—his—Argh! He should've punched that asshole while he had the chance! He listened to his own blood pound through his ears, as he continued to rant, "Did you want to be kidnapped or something?"

Naminé said nothing. She had hidden her eyes beneath her long bangs, shifting slightly. Ugh! He felt like pulling out his hair. He exhaled slowly, fighting to control his temper.

"Naminé. Look at me."

She didn't move.

"Naminé!" he seethed, frustrated. She budged—he noticed her breathing was shallow but still, she would not meet his eyes. She quickly made to move past him, grabbing a fistful of her pants tensely.

Oh no you don't. He wanted answers, dammit. He grabbed her upper arm, and pulled her back to face him.

"Leave me alone!" she cried suddenly.

Riku started.

Her ocean-blue eyes had narrowed; a slight sheen glazed them, making them sparkle in the dark night. Her pale face was now flushed, and her breathing ragged. He realized she was trying to avoid crying.

Riku huffed. "No! We didn't get a single room, so you could go strolling around after dark, alone, and almost get jumped by a guy who could've easily taken off with you, dammit!"

Naminé was shaking in his grip.

"I'm not a kid, damn you!" Even though he was surprised at her sudden defensiveness, he brushed it off.

"Then stop acting like one!"

"You didn't even know why—"

"Then why don't you tell me? Huh?"

He was still holding on to her. Naminé stared back at him, her mouth set in a grim line.

"It-it's nothing. Just forget it," she said, her voice hard.

Once again, Naminé averted her gaze. Sudden quiet enveloped them, as they stood facing one another. A few strands of Riku's own hair had fallen into his eyes, but he made no effort to shake them away. He watched Naminé fiddle with the hem of her tank, before bringing his eyes to look at the rest of her. He saw that her eyes were brimmed pink, slight shadows lining beneath them. Her shoulders were slumped, her hair disheveled… and suddenly, he felt as tired as she looked. Damn… this was getting to be a long night.

He hadn't been able to sleep before, even though he had managed some when he heard a weird, soft tune in his mind. He had been pretty sure it was his imagination—where else could that have come from? It had temporarily lulled him to sleep before being awoken by soft voices coming from outside his window. When he had opened it a crack to see who was talking, he had been surprised to see the 

redhead standing a little ways down the walkway. But that's not what had stunned him—a tuft of blonde had shifted in and out of his view.

Tidus? He had thought. He swiveled around—no, Tidus was still sprawled in his bed, with Sora sleeping soundlessly in the other direction.

But that meant…

He had looked over to Kairi's bed. Damn.

Naminé.

He had jumped off the couch, quickly glancing at the bathroom—nope, not there either—before making his way silently towards the door, a mix of fear and anger building in his gut. Why the hell isn't she in bed? He had thought vehemently. He stepped outside only to be greeted with a sight that made him sick in his stomach. Not only had he felt angry and worried, but also…

Why was he always the one she avoided?

"Riku?"

What had he ever done to her? He had known her before, he'd known her longer than… and she couldn't… she wouldn't even talk to him…

"R-Riku?" the timid voice diverted his attention. His eyes caught her startling blue ones.

"What is it about me that has you so damn quiet all the time?" he asked in a slight daze, his voice barely above a whisper. Whether he was asking himself or Naminé, he couldn't tell. Am I really that intimidating? He'd never thought so, but…what could he do?

Riku blinked. It was then that he noticed he still had her arm in his rather tight grip, leaving both their flesh very white. He loosened his hold. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Naminé, who had been peering anxiously up at him, looked away, a light blush accenting her moonlit cheeks. He noticed she still had one hand tucked behind her, shifting uncomfortably.

"Your sketchbook?" he asked quietly, rubbing his neck. Had she come out to draw? She must've been feeling restless then…

Naminé shook her head, her soft hair framing her face. "N-no."

He sighed then and dropped her arm. Riku rubbed his face before running a hand through his locks.

"Are you all right?" But Naminé held her own question in her eyes, as she peered at his face.

"Are you?" she asked quietly.

This time, it was his turn to look away.

"It's been a long day—or night, I guess," answered Riku, his left hand shoved into his pocket. He looked over to the parking lot and their surroundings briefly, before coming back to rest his eyes on her. Naminé cleared her throat.

"I…uh—well, wasn't feeling very well… so I came out here."

"How come?"

Naminé blinked. "Um… for some fresh air?"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I meant, how come you weren't feeling well? Are you sick?"

Naminé shrugged, and inclined her head. Riku waited, but still she didn't say anything. He sighed. Shaking his head, he raised his free hand and flicked a lock of hair out of her eyes. Naminé started; she glanced up at him, but he was already turning away.

"Come on Naminé. We still have to get up lat—"

"Pla-playing helps me feel better."

Riku paused. He turned to look at her, and was surprised to see a long, thin, silver instrument clutched in her hands. She was chewing on her bottom lip. So that's what she was hiding. And that's where that music was coming from, he realized.

He leaned in closer, and arched an eyebrow. "How long have you been playing?"

She blushed. "Not long. I needed a second major, so I chose instrumentals." She coughed. "Dancing, drama, and singing… they're just not my thing."

Riku's mouth quirked. "I believe it." A pause. "Why the flute?" Funny, it suits her too…

Naminé's gaze shifted; she opened her mouth, but then closed it, apparently changing her mind. "It was…a gift," she answered with finality. And that was that. She lowered her darkened eyes and began to disassemble the silver flute. "We should go inside now."

Riku bristled. I didn't start the conversation here… and now she was brushing him off? Well, fine then.

"After you," he said, stepping aside to let her pass. Remnants of the previous event began to swirl in his mind—he'd be damned if he was going to let her stay out here alone again.

Naminé caught his intention, and threw him a brief glare, before walking past. "I'm not a kid Yeah, well, she was naïve as hell, and… Riku grimaced. Were they not just having a light conversation only a moment ago? Feisty girl… she's more like Kairi than one would think.

Shaking his head and rubbing his neck, he made to follow her in, but not before glancing around to make sure the fiery redhead was nowhere in sight.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed it! Woohoo! I had so much fun writing this chapter. Please review :)