a/n: Ana reporting :) So Suki and I have been working our asses off on this. And lemme tell you, it's really epic. Both in the OMG SO EPIC WIN! way and the whole length thing. It's nearly killed me, but I would like to thank everyone who reviewed. And who will in the future review. (You want to have a happy Suki and Ana, you read and review.) Um, so that whole six chapters thing? We lied. It's up in the air right now. I don't even know. AXEL DOESN'T EVEN KNOW. IF YOU LOOK, you can totally see our writing styles collided, mashing, and whatnot. It's insane. But amazing. I feeling I'm rambling –
DISCLAIMER TIEM!: Dear reader, this is obviously the bitching owners of Kingdom Hearts. Obviously. Xion is an April fool's joke. All themes, characters, and whatnot belong to their respective owners, who, despite contrary belief, are not Suki or Ana. The plot, however, is all owned by these epic people. And also writing styles, which are pwnful.
Note: Ana shouldn't be allowed to post serious business Author Notes.
READING TIEM!
x – x – x
Rain trickles down her face as she steps off the bus. She pulls her black hood up, blocking her face, just in case – it protects her from the rain, which is starting to come down hard.
She needs a place to crash.
Violet eyes travel across the street, searching for somewhere. Anywhere will do for the first night. She spots a small coffee shop a short distance away and looks both ways, but not for cars – just a familiar face. The face that haunts her dreams. She shivers, holding her arms out as she crosses the street, just like her friend Yuffie used to. But that was before everything changed.
She sits down in the coffee shop, shivering from the cold outside – her hair is mangled and wet, hanging in her face. She tucks the loose ends behind her ears, checking both ways before she finally takes off her hood. She lets out a sigh of relief, setting her bag next to her. One eye surveys the room. It's a cute coffee shop, and it's the graveyard shift, so there's hardly anyone here. Just she, the true coffee addicted insomniacs, and the workers. Kairi checks her watch. Three-seventeen a.m.
"Welcome to the Hearts Café. What can I get for you?" asks a young blonde girl her age. She's wearing an all white dress. As she makes her way over to Kairi, Kairi notices she's very pale, but it only enhances her clear, blue eyes. Kairi blinks, remembering his face; blue eyes, clear as day. She's shaking by the time the girl had approaches her. Her small smile is quickly replaced with a concerned expression. "Miss, are you all right?"
Breathe, keep it together, she prompts herself as she takes a deep breath, nodding, reassuring nobody but herself. "I'd like a mocha latté." The blonde nods and cautiously walks away, just in case Kairi suddenly falls apart.
"I wanted a smoothie," he complains. Chills runs up her spine, as they always do when he appears. He has been popping up for the past two months, without fail – forever reminding her of what she had done. Blond spikes sticking up and blue eyes staring at her angrily in a faux pout…she can run her hands right through him.
"Fuck off," she hisses under her breath. It's bad enough that she hears voices – but it's worse that she talks to them, too.
"I'd like to, but you've kinda made that impossible." He crosses his arms with a smirk, but Kairi just stares at his transparent forehead. She ignores his subtle hints, the ones that at one time had reduced her to tears. But now, they are nothing – he is nothing but her guilt speaking. "So where are we this time?"
"Destiny Island," she replies, not looking away as the waitress walks right through him. He shrugs, undisturbed.
"An ocean apart." He looks out the window, yearning for the very thing from which she is running away.
"That's kind of the point." She takes a sip of her mocha as he glares at her, her thoughts far away. It should be far away enough that it would take him enough weeks to track her. She is safe, if only for the moment. For the first time in weeks, she relaxes.
"He'll find you. He always will," he tells her, reading her thoughts. She slams her hands on the table, knocking over her drink. "Is that supposed to shut me up? I'm really quaking in my boots."
"Don't you have a school to haunt?" She grabs a napkin, ignoring the uneasy glances she is getting from the waitress. With one swoosh, she began to clean it up, sighing wearily. She needs to control her temper.
"I'm all yours." She rolls her eyes, throwing both a tip and the bill she owes down onto the table. She wanders up to the waitress, whose face is hidden behind a sketchbook. He follows behind her, hands clasped behind his head. Someone puts a hand on her shoulder, and she freezes. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head – and she relaxes a little. It isn't him. Instead, it's a silver-haired boy. He too has light blue eyes and a fair complexion.
"I wouldn't interrupt her while she's drawing," he tells Kairi, looking at the waitress fondly. "Naminé tends to kill." Kairi nods as if she understands this joke and puts on a small smile. She hears the blond mumble plastic, but she ignores him – now isn't the time to argue with the voice inside her head.
"Hi. I'm Selphie." Lies, lies, lies. Another place, a different name – it will only keep her safe for so long. "And I was wondering if this place was hiring?" She has worked, everywhere and everything. School is out of the question. It's just too risky. And having a love life isn't even worth thinking about. The only thing Kairi can care about is staying alive, and even that is hard.
"Selphie Tilmitt?" he asks with curious blue eyes.
She freezes. Oh, shit, her mind is blank. Didn't Selphie once mention something about growing up on the Island? She thinks about it hard, but she is drawing a blank with a capital B, and he's still waiting for an answer.
"Way to go, Kairi. Eventually you were bound to get caught," he condemns, tsking and shaking his head. She just glares at him, ignoring his comment and racking her brain for an answer.
"No," she tries, and he easily shrugs it off. Crisis averted. It's a pretty close call, but not as bad as the first time she used her real name. Nothing was worse than that.
He waggles his fingers, motioning for her to follow him past Naminé, who is heavily into her work.
"I'm Riku. I own this dump." His hands stretch out from wall to wall. Kairi shrugs. She thinks it's a nice little coffee shop. Black and white walls covered with random paintings and various scribbles, bean bag chairs for seats around the fireplace, and tables by the window, like the one Kairi had been sitting at. Riku pulls a plastic cup out for himself, and Kairi just watches as he pours coffee into it. Heat radiates from the liquid, and Kairi just wants to grab it, she is so cold. "We're kind of short on hands, so you would have to start right away…"
She nods vigorously. This is perfect. He smiles at her enthusiasm, his fingers playing with the rim of his cup. "But." Her face falls. There is no such thing as perfect when she has a psycho trying to kill her. What was she thinking? She looks over at her blond haired companion, who is standing behind Naminé, gazing at her art, distracted. "Most of the munny earned here goes toward the rent upstairs." He points upwards. "Half spending, half rent."
"You're going to get them all killed if you live here." Olette's face flashes into her mind, a sob rising in the back of her throat. She bites her cheeks hard – she can't do this, not just yet. But she looks at Riku. She needs a job and a place a crash, and he's willing to provide both.
"Yeah, that's great." She smiles.
He shakes his head, putting his hands on Riku's shoulders. "She just signed your death sentence," he whispers into Riku's ear, but only Kairi can hear him. Guilt floods her veins. He's just another person who will go down for her cause. She closes her eyes tiredly.
Riku just smiles, unaware of him at all. "Well, welcome to the family."
x – x – x
It's Naminé who leads her up the spiral staircase to the apartment. It's small. The white walls are filled with framed paintings, which Kairi learns are done by the petite blonde, just like the ones downstairs. There are two rooms. Naminé and Riku share one, and Kairi gets the other, with a small bathroom and a living room leading directly into the kitchen.
"But this is my favorite spot in the whole apartment," Naminé had told her while she led Kairi onto the balcony. The rain has settled, and the city now sleeps soundlessly. Kairi can see the ocean right from her window and every building for miles. It's a beautiful view. "It's the only reason I bought it at first.," she admits, and Kairi nods, knowing exactly why. Despite the chill, Kairi could stay out here all day. They both yawn, nodding off a bit.
"Your room is on the left." Naminé begins to walk back inside, and Kairi follows quickly. "If you need anything, just let me or Riku know." She smiles sweetly, tugging at the hem of her dress.
"Fancy digs," he calls out to her, hands on the rail of the balcony. "Much better than the last place we crashed. Man, he really trashed that place." Kairi closes her eyes, remembering the flames that had flickered around her. She looks down to glance at her arm – while hidden underneath her sleeve, nobody can see the burn mark. She flinches as he puts his hand on it, cool fingers trailing her skin. She moves her arm, and it goes through him. Ignoring the pity in his eyes, she makes her way to her room. She closes the door and throws her bag down, crawling onto the mattress and lying down. There, she lets herself start to cry as she curls up in the bed alone, hiding her face in the pillow.
A hand touches her hair, trailing through it. "Stop it, Roxas."
She sniffles, pushing his hand away, but instead of going through it as it should have, his hand remains very much solid, and as she lifts her head slightly she makes out the same spiky hair. He's alive? She stares at him. How is that even possible? He's been dead for two months – two long months he's been by her side, dead to the world.
"That isn't me," Roxas informs her, but she's already screaming.
The boy she had mistaken for Roxas, a boy with piercing, blue eyes and a head of messy, brown locks, lurches up with a start and promptly flips off the side of the bed. As Kairi chokes on her breath and drags the bed sheets protectively around her frame, the blond boy crawls curiously across the mattress, cocking his head as he hovers over the edge. She can see the floorboards and crudely-made bedside table shimmering through him, and she chokes again into the blanket, sniffling in fright.
"What…what the hell was…?"
"Jesus, Kai, did you kill him, too?" the blond drawls blandly.
"That's not funny!" she shouts indignantly, tears sparking in her eyes once more.
Suddenly, a head of tousled hair pops up from the ground, and Roxas hovers several feet into the air, his arms crossed and his head cocked curiously to the side. "I-I…I didn't mean to be funny," he remarks sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "I didn't know there was gonna be a renter today. Sometimes Riku lets me stay, so I just crashed? I'm really sor—"
"Who the hell is dying in my coffee shop!" comes a shout from outside, and Kairi tumbles from the bed, striking her shoulder against the floor. Roxas snorts smugly as she winces, but the brown-haired boy jumps to his feet in alarm, hurrying over to aid her. Alarmed, she flinches and scurries back several feet, and the blue-eyed male hesitates, awkward smile on his lips.
"Way to make friends, Kairi."
"I'm serious! What's going on?!"
The boy hesitates, looking from her to the door and then back to her again. Then, as he ruffles his hair with his fingers nervously, he shoots her a reassuring smile before trudging toward the door, leaving Kairi dumbfounded on the floorboards. Roxas, hovering in the air, hums to himself pleasantly and floats down beside her. With wary eyes she turns to face him.
"He looks like me, doesn't he?"
Mutely, Kairi nods, following his gaze to stare at the brown-haired boy, who is rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand, his left buried within the folds of his pocket. He seems so at ease. He looks so peaceful. She envies him for that.
"Does that freak you out?"
She narrows her eyes. "Shut up, Roxas."
"Yeah. Sure. I'll just be as silent as the fucking grave you put me in. There. Feel better?"
She feels a tear slide suddenly down her cheek. "That's not fair."
"Don't tell me what's fair," he hisses into her ear, leaning close, and she shivers. "Don't you dare fucking tell me what's fair." Angrily, he rises into the air, and in a wisp of smoke he's gone.
She's too startled by the door opening to feel either relief or remorse. On the other side of the threshold, Riku's expression is dark, and as she remains crouched on the floor in her protective cover of blankets she watches the fury on the silver-haired teen's face fade into incredulity. The brown-haired boy bashfully raises his right hand in a wave, his head tilting to the side and his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. Roxas never smiles like that. His blue eyes are never filled with such light, even when so far away. There is only a deep shadow of mourning in those shining, blue orbs, and he's only ever laughing when he's mocking her suffering.
"So, I was in town, and I thought, hey, why not stop by and see my good friend, Riku?"
"You got fired again, didn't you?"
"Fired, Riku? That's such a harsh term. I was just—"
"Fired," the older male remarks flatly.
The brown-haired boy crosses his arms and pouts, and another shock runs down Kairi's spine. The similarities are uncanny in certain lights. "Shut up."
Groaning, Riku leans against the doorframe and presses his fingertips against his nose. "Just work here, you dumbass. The way you disgustingly ooze sunshine and puppy dogs is actually useful for waiting on customers."
"I ooze…sunshine and pu—"
"I know what I said, shut up." Kairi notes that Riku's cheeks are tinged pink in embarrassment. "So just work here. We can find room for you." He peers over Sora's shoulder, and she suddenly realizes that both had forgotten about her. She arches a delicate brow in response, and Riku smirks slightly. "I see you've been introduced to our other new employee."
Sora turns to stare at her, his expression suddenly elated as he appraises her with bright, blue eyes. Tugging her blanket closer, she glowers at him, feeling small beneath the covers and far too vulnerable. As Riku leans his forearm against the doorframe and blandly grazes his forehead against the sleeve, Sora's smile slips from his face, and he sheepishly turns his eyes away, an embarrassed smile wavering on his lips.
"Well, if I'm gonna work here, Riku…" Sora begins. His silver-haired friend smirks, aquamarine gaze shooting for Kairi and pinning her to the spot. Scowling, she looks into her lap. "…I'm gonna need a room."
"Fresh out," he states simply. "Stay here."
"What?!" she shrieks indignantly.
"Riku, seriously, isn't that unrea—"
"You want the job? You follow the rules. Now stop bitching, stop making loud noises, and get along, or you're not getting paid this week." Patting Sora once on the shoulder, he grins. "Good to see you again, pal."
Sora's arms hang limply at his sides as Riku turns on his heel and strolls down the hall. Growling softly under her breath, Kairi wills with every fiber of her being to have Roxas haunt that pompous ass after herself, but as seconds pass and she doesn't feel any less relieved, she sighs and struggles to her feet. Sora, closing the door wearily, runs his fingers through her hair as he turns around, and he hesitates to see her pulling pillows off the bed and throwing them on the floor.
"Um, what exactly—?"
"I'm not sleeping with you," she snaps coldly, throwing another throw pillow onto the wooden boards. "You take the bed, I don't care. Just stay away from me."
Sighing softly, he lifts his eyes to the ceiling and shakes his head, hand slipping to cradle his neck gently. After she unravels the blanket from her shoulders and drapes it across the floor, she kneels down and winces at how hard the ground feels, telling herself to stop being a baby and learn to get comfortable. Running from a homicidal maniac doesn't allow for luxuries. She should be happy that there a roof over her head and warmth away from the rain has been offered to her.
Sinking her cheek into the pillow, she lets her gaze flick up in time to catch sight of Sora hovering over her. Scowling, she flips over and curls her hand under her chin, closing her eyes futilely and willing him away into wisps of smoke.
But such childish games don't even work on Roxas, so they obviously don't work on him.
Crouching down, he touches her shoulder softly. "Unless you secretly want to sleep with me, Miss…" he murmurs soothingly, but her body tenses up and her breath comes short. She remembers a different kind of whispering in her ear – a breathy hiss, flashing eyes, an overshadowed sneer, all surrounded by crackling flames. "…I suggest you take the bed."
Without needing to be told twice, she leaps up, sliding out from under his touch and keeping a wide berth of distance between the two. Her heart is racing a mile a minute, and the burn on her arm sears in pain as the memory flashes white hot in her mind. Biting sharply down on her lip, she ducks her head down and clenches her fists, refusing to let him see her cry.
"Hey, are you—?"
"Good night," she snaps, traveling in a wide arc around him toward the bed. Once on the other side, she flops limply down onto the mattress, burying her face immediately into the covers and curling protectively into herself. She hears him sigh on the floor and roll onto his side, the thin cover of bed sheets rustling beneath his legs. She almost turns over to glance at him, to see if he's okay, but then she clamps down on the mattress cover with her fingers and keeps herself in one place. As silence settles over the room, she closes her eyes, feeling the tears sliding from the corners and dribbling down to her chin.
Eventually, she cries herself to sleep.
-- - --
Kairi doesn't dream anymore. She just remembers.
She's standing at the casket, arms crossed as she stares down at a boy she doesn't know. 'Roxas!' she remembers Olette screaming and screaming and screaming. She's sobbing in the pew, beside Hayner and Pence – she has a broken arm. Yuffie leans toward the back. Nobody can see it, but under her pretty black dress there is a sea of bruises. Selphie isn't there. She had bashed her head against the dashboard and was in no condition to be anywhere out of the hospital. Kairi is the only one to get out scott-free.
"You killed him, you know." The voice cuts through her guilt, through her mourning for the boy she doesn't know. She looks to her side, where a tall man she hadn't noticed stands. He has emerald green eyes with small triangle tattoos under them, a spiky crimson mane, and if looks could kill, Kairi would be six feet under the ground twelve times over. "You fucking murdered him." He hisses the last few words so quickly that they run together.
"I didn't mean to." Honestly, if she could have it any other way, she would wish that she was the one in that casket, not him. She wants him to be happy and alive – if just motorcycle-less. "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" He laughs at her, such a bitter, hollow laugh. "What's that supposed to make me do? Pity you?" He steps over to her, so close that she can feel his breath on the very top of her forehead. "I'm going to make you regret that you weren't just another abortion statistic." He pauses as a couple Kairi doesn't recognize comes up to say goodbye. They both wear black. The man is tall and has blond spikes much like Roxas'. The woman has a long braid of brown hair and is crying into the man's chest, while he strokes her head. Kairi watches the redhead's expression change from pure hatred to sheer sadness as he watches this couple.
The minute they leave, his eyes are back on her, narrowed and callous. She feels like the wicked witch who stole the tin man's heart. "I'm going to kill you," he says simply, venom shooting from his mouth with every syllable. Her eyes open wide with shock. "You won't know when or where, but I'm going get you." He shoves her away from the casket, with enough force to make her stumble away from it. He leans into the casket and kisses the cold, dead lips of the man he loves and lost. Kairi can't look away or even move.
"Axel…" calls out a voice filled with pain and remorse. Kairi turns around, looking for the voice's ownder, but she can find nobody by the casket. It's just she and Axel.
She takes off like a bullet.
She makes her way home, heels off. She had taken to walking everywhere, since the accident. When she arrives, she finds Olette and Yuffie sitting on her steps. Yuffie is on the stoop, knees tucked into her chest, arms on top of them. Olette sits on the stairs. They're both quiet, their once happy chatter replaced with remorse. It radiates off them like heat.
"Hey," Yuffie calls when she sees her, causing Olette to look up. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying. "Can we crash here tonight?" Kairi blinks at both of her friends and wonders if that's how she looks to everyone else – sad and lost. They don't want to be alone, either.
Kairi gets out her keys.
"And we can see Selphie in the morning," Olette tells them, sniffling. Kairi just smiles and nods, watching Yuffie jump off the stoop, cautious but steady. It's true, what they say – misery loves company.
She wraps her arms around Olette, with Yuffie following in suit. "We'll be okay," she says.
She doesn't know how wrong she is.
The news is still blaring his death – she's reminded about it constantly. She has even added him into her daily schedule: school, work, then visit Roxas' grave. Soon, she forgets all about Axel's threat. That is, until she comes home one night from the grave to find her door standing wide open.
Something tells her not to go in, but she does anyways. Maybe Yuffie has come over in her rage and forgot to close the door, she reasons. It's not like she hadn't done it before. But as Kairi walks through her apartment, she gets an eerie feeling. Long fingers tenderly wrapped themselves around her arm, and, next thing she knows, she's flying into the wall. Her head collides with it, causing her to shriek in pain. He pulls her up by her hair, breathing in her ear, and she shivers as he touched her skin, squeezing her shoulder hard. "Did you miss me, Princess?"
"That looks painful." It's the same voice that had called out to Axel at the funeral. Kairi screams, and he slams her head into the wall. Something cracks, and blood begins to run down her face. She cries out in pain, tears and blood coursing down her cheeks. But the voice, whoever he is, makes no effort to help.
"Now be a good, little princess," Axel whispers into her ear. Between her pleading of pleases and don'ts he yanks her up. "And maybe, if you're good, it'll be quick and painless." His emerald eyes are wild, fighting to get out of their sockets. "But, then again, I feel like destroying something beautiful today." She snivels. She's going to die. Someone is going to waltz in and find her corpse on the floor, all bloody and massacred.
"Kairi?" Olette's voice calls out, sounding worried. Axel freezes, staring at Kairi and pulling her against the wall. "Kairi, are you home?" She walks in, and Kairi closes her eyes. Just get out. Just get the hell out. Axel pulls on hair, hard. She hisses in pain, kicking the wall. Olette freezes in theliving room, looking for Kairi.
"Send her away. Send her away or I'll kill her," he whispers harshly into her ear.
"Olette, get away." Kairi blinks, and then she sees him. It's Roxas, pushing Olette by her shoulders. But she doesn't move. She walks right through him, despite what he says. Kairi blinks again, several times. She must be dreaming. He's dead. She'd killed him. He's dead.
Yet here he is, clear as day.
'Here's your boyfriend,' she tells him with her eyes, but he doesn't listen. He just won't listen.
"Kairi?" she calls out again.
"Don't get her involved, Kairi," he tells her, floating over to where they stand. She doesn't move when he looks her in the eyes.
"Princess, now," Axel warns her.
"Olette!" she yells, high-pitched. "I'll be there in a second! I'm just getting changed." Axel watches her carefully. She takes a sharp intake of air, and he loosens his grip on her hair just an inch.
"Make it fast." He lets her go, pulling something black and metallic out of his pocket. "And don't be stupid." She nods, walking over to Olette slowly and cautiously.
"Are you okay?" Olette asks, looking at her forehead. She gasps, and Kairi hears a click. "You're bleeding." She goes to touch Kairi's forehead, but Kairi takes a step back.
"I'm fine. Just fine." Olette's eyes narrow at the obvious lie. "So I was thinking of helping Selphie out today."
"Are you fucking serious?!" Roxas screams, appearing in front of her, and she's momentarily startled by those furious blue eyes. But then, remembering her situation, she hurriedly waves him away, her eyes grave. Another click. Kairi is going to have to work faster. The door is right there. All she has to do is run. He wants to kill her, right? He won't hurt Olette, right? Of course not. That'd be asinine. Olette had been Roxas's friend.
"When I say run, run," she whispers hard. She's not quiet, enough. Axel sighs loudly, and Olette takes a step back, hearing him.
"Princess," he growls, coming out into the open. "I told you: nothing stupid." He shakes his head, tsking at her. "You just signed her death sentence."
"Kairi?" Olette looks at her, and she knows that look – Olette's scared. Kairi gulps, keeping her eyes on the gun. She grabs Olette's hand, fingers entwining with her best friend's. They can make it through this. They'll be all right.
"You're a fucking dumbass!" Roxas roars at her.
"Run!" she screams. They both take off, and the shot rings through the house. For a second everything is quiet. Then Olette screams out in pain, their fingers, before so tightly entwined, separated, and Olette drops in the doorway. Another shot rings out, and Kairi jumps over the steps, running as fast as she can, not looking back.
"Kairi!" Olette screams after her, and she turns her head, almost stopping to turn back, but she sees Axel first. She rushes onward, her legs pumping hard, muscles that she hasn't used since high school aching.
"You can run, DiCasco, but you can't hide!" he bellows after her.
Another shot rings through the dark.
x – x – x
Kairi awakens with a jolt, feeling sick and feverish. Her entire body is shaking, and she hears the echo of sobbing in her ears. Memories flash across her mind, and choking on her breath she pulls her knees close, wrapping her arms around her shin. The room is not dark, but it's far too quiet, and she's afraid beneath her thin veil of covers.
She struggles with the disorientation that sleep has bestowed upon her, rubbing her fist into her eye tiredly while she continues to shiver beneath the sheets. As she becomes more and more aware of her surroundings, she realizes that the sobbing isn't just a faint memory whispering its sorrow in her head. Instead, it belongs to a familiar voice, one that has haunted her now for so many weeks, one that will stay with her until her dying day – which she sorely hopes isn't soon. Tentatively, she peeks up from her covers, and when she glances to her left she sees Roxas with his back wedged into the corner of the room, his knees drawn close to his chest. As she swings her feet onto the floor, she quietly watches him moan though his tears, his cries dwindling into high-pitched whines as his eyes remain squeezed shut and his ghostly hand clutches at a pendant around his neck, the other digging fingers into his scalp.
"Axel…" he pleas hoarsely, and Kairi's heart lurches, both in fear at such a wretched name and in remorse. "I never…I never got to say…"
"Roxas…please don't cry."
Startled, he jerks his chin up, sluggish tears dripping from his lashes and sliding down his cheeks. His lips part as garbled syllables stumble forth from his throat, and then he catches himself, catches how he almost opens up to her, and his wide, clear eyes frost over. The corner of his mouth twitching into a grimace, he squeezes the spokes of his pendant so tightly she thinks he'll bleed, only to remember that spirits don't have life. They don't have hearts.
So how…how is he in so much pain?
"Sometimes, I wish he'd find you," he snarls, the corners of his lips curling into a dark and hollow smirk. A shock races down her spine as she catches how lifeless his eyes look, and self-consciously she draws her over-shirt closer to her chest, her fists shaking over her heart. "I look at you, and I wish you'd die."
"I don't know what you want from me!" she snaps, but the tremor in her voice betrays her fear. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, Roxas, I really am. More than you could possibly imagine!" Her voice cracks, and her defiant expression crumbles. "But I can't change what has already—"
"I want my life back."
Her expression contorts into one of pain, and she tilts her head beseechingly, laying out her palms in supplication as she leans forward. He shifts slightly back, disgusted by her. "Roxas…" she breathes, her eyes shining. "You know I can't—"
"I hate you," he growls, interrupting her. "And I will never forgive you."
"But I don't expect you to—!"
"You don't fucking get it, do you?" His voice is stormy, quiet, his eyes flashing as his hand clasping the pendant shakes with rage. "I'll never be able to touch him again. He'll never hear my voice. Dammit, why did it have to be you who could see me? I hate you. I fucking HATE YOU."
She flinches, a stray tear slipping from her lashes onto her lap. She watches the blond send trembling fingers through his hair, raking his scalp and entangling his hands in locks of faded gold. His body looks gray in the morning light, and she can see the rundown walls shimmering behind him, undulating with every arch and twist of his body.
Pressing her clasped fingers against her lips, she closes her eyes. "If I stopped running…would that make you feel better?" She can feel bile build up in her stomach. Flashes of sickening fear hurt her eyes, her head throbs, and her vision swims as she stares meaningfully at him through strewn and messy bangs, but she won't betray her terror. She won't let him know how quickly her heart kicks up its frantic pacing the moment she thinks about Axel laying a single hand on her. "If I let him k…" She chokes, then swallows hard. "…k-kill me."
Shock openly flits across his face, and his grip on his pendant grows slack as he gazes at her with wide eyes. The orbs are a frosty blue, untouched by death – they glow around the shadows of his form, never failing to captivate her. She watches his brow furrow, watches his gaze darken as he seriously contemplates her offer. His hand clenches and unclenches, and she feels the blood pulse in her veins. She can hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
He finally drifts silently to his feet, his head tilted away from her but his peripheral vision scouring her face. His body shudders with the force of his intake, and then he presses a hand tiredly to his forehead. His shoulders go slack, and he looks so exhausted and pitiful in the morning light that she wishes that she can throw her arms around him; and then the full weight of her actions hit her, and she wants more than anything to be sick.
She can still hear the way the motorcycle crunched beneath her car and see the way his neck snapped in her mind.
"Don't be stupid," he whispers softly, turning his head away from her in an attempt to hide his sadness. "He's not a killer."
"Right. Sure. He's a fucking angel," she snaps bitterly before thinking.
Roxas whirls on her, and she sucks in a strangled breath. "He's not," the boy snarls, his eyes furious, "a killer."
Biting her lip, she looks away, uncomfortable under the magnitude of his glare. "I need to get dressed," she finally announces, feeling the need to break the silence that had settled over the two.
"Then do it. I won't stop you."
She sighs, threading fingers through long, red strands of hair as she rises to her feet. She has been growing it out in the months that she has been on the lam, in a feeble attempt to disguise herself from Axel's leering eyes; but her guises never work. He always finds her. It's inevitable.
"I kind of need privacy?" she remarks with an arched eyebrow, placing her hands on her hips.
Her remark earns her a withering glance as Roxas links his hands behind his head, his head cocked as he watches her from the corner of his eye. "As if I'd like anything you have to offer," he drawls smartly, and she purses her lips at him. "You're really not that attractive."
She glowers at him. "Cute," she says, before turning on her heel in a huff of breath and marching over to her backpack, which she'd kicked to the corner last night. Some time soon, when she starts making money, she'll go shopping and buy herself new attire. She might even dye her hair this time. Red hair was just too distinguishable.
The one and only time she had attempted to do so, however, Roxas had gone on a rampage. In his first display of inhuman power, he had short-circuited the electricity in the salon, rattled the bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and cracked one of the mirrors. A frightened panic arose in the chaos, and Kairi had had to slip out of doors, pulling her hood tightly over her head and refusing to look back. He had never explained himself, but she wonders still if the similarity of hair color between Axel and her has something to do with it.
Roxas tends to grasp any means of connection to the redheaded psychopath that he can, trying to console the ache in his hollow chest that never seems to abate.
"White tank-top with the purple sweater or pink t-shirt with the white hearts?" she muses aloud, sending him a curious glance.
"Dress yourself."
"If you're going to watch, I'll need your advice," she remarks sarcastically.
"I'm not watching." She smiles as she watches him glower stubbornly at the wall, his back facing her and his arms crossed in a closed-off position. "Don't flatter yourself."
She shrugs and turns away. "I'll go with the hearts."
"How special."
"No looking, though, okay?" she calls, crouching down by her beige-colored back and digging through the few possessions she had left for her jeans and pink flip-flops. In the midst of her search, she throws aside a hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, and hair tie, which collect in a haphazard pile by her feet. "You don't get special privileges because you're see-through."
"I'll try to contain my disappointment."
Smiling to herself, she draws herself to her full height and grabs the tail end of her night shirt, pulling the article of clothing over her head and then depositing it carelessly to the floor. It puddles around her feet as she absent-mindedly musses her hair, shivering in the cold, and then she bends over and retrieves her bra. Sighing, she tilts her head back as she slips it over her arms and fiddles with the clasp, blowing a tuft of hair from her eyes as she admires the pockmarks in the ceiling.
"This place isn't so bad," she remarks conversationally, tilting her head toward Roxas to make sure he isn't looking. He continues to glower steadfastly at the wall, his fingers tapping a soundless rhythm on his arm, and she nods to herself, flicking her gaze back to the ceiling. "I mean, it's cold, but it's also pretty cozy."
"Don't get attached."
She rolls her eyes. "I'm not going to. Jesus. I just need a few days of work, rest, and food, and then we can move on, okay?"
Roxas sighs. "You can't keep doing this. Axel's not as sloppy as he was before. And you're not the kind of person who can survive on her own. You need people."
She whirls around and points at him accusingly. "I can do just fine on my own!" she retorts.
The blond lets his head fall back. "Whatever."
Grinding her teeth together, she whirls back around, stiffly kicking off her sweatpants and snatching her jeans of the wood. In seconds flat she has drawn the denim over her feet, shins, and thighs, and now she stands viciously fiddling with the button, her hair falling into her face. "God, you make me so mad…"
"Feeling's mutual."
"Oh, cut the crap," she mutters under her breath, bending over at the waist and sweeping her shirt off the floor. The decorated tee flaps and ripples in the makeshift wind as she viciously beats out the wrinkles, and then she smoothes her hand over the cloth as she holds it against her chest, her anger seething just under the surface. "If you're so sick of me, then why don't you just leave?"
"Because you'd die without me."
She stills, blinking at the floorboards as she runs her fingers slowly over the shirt again, her fingers finally bunching up a handful of the fabric.
"Ironic, right? The guy you killed is the only one who can save you from the guy who wants you dead. And you're my only link to him." Roxas laughs humorlessly, and Kairi feels her shoulders sag in guilt. "Life's just hilarious like that."
"I'm fine on my own," she repeats softly, only this time her statement is an empty one.
"Of course you are," Roxas responds, nothing but disbelief in his tone.
Silence weighs in between the two, as Kairi absently smoothes her hand over her shirt and Roxas rakes his eyes across the cracks in the wall. Shivering in the quiet, she slips her left arm more comfortably across her stomach, hugging herself for several passing moments as she envisions hollow lights and the sight of a motorcycle attempting to swerve past her speeding car. She squeezes her eyes tightly shut, and she hears the crash ring in her mind, echoing like bells in the deepest segments of her brain.
"Don't you have work to get to?" her transparent companion finally pipes up, and she blinks in a slow, hazy fashion, shaking her head from side to side. "Idiot."
Brows knitting in aggravation, she tosses him a glare. "Keep your shirt on, would you? I'm going."
"Says the girl standing half-naked in her room."
She stiffens. "You peeked!"
"Well if you didn't take a fucking millennium to dress, I wouldn't have—"
"I'm a girl!" she snaps in outrage. "It's in my DNA!"
"Just hurry up."
"You are so…" Groaning in aggravation, she slaps the shirt against her legs again, ridding the fabric of final wrinkles. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't do it again."
"Or what? You'll kill me? You already did that once before."
She grimaces and balls the shirt in her hands in frustration. "Roxas, just shut up."
Equally frustrated, he remarks, "Whatever. I'll be waiting downstairs when you actually decide to dress yourself," and as she turns around she watches with a sigh as he phases through the floor. Pressing her hand wearily against her forehead, she closes her eyes, her shirt hanging limply in her grasp.
"What a nightmare," she mutters under her breath, pressing her fingers against her closed lids and feeling the beginning of a headache throb at the back of her skull. "I'm ready to wake up," she calls aloud, addressing the ceiling. "Anytime."
"Selphie?" She hears the telltale creak of floorboards outside her room, and her brow furrows in confusion. Whose voice was that, and why was he looking for her best friend? "Are you up yet?"
She listens in interest, half-turned toward the door and head cocked to the side. He sounds warm. Comforting. Far more reassuring than Roxas's cold, soft voice and Axel's sadistic, purring undertones. Goosebumps prickle along her skin, and absently she lowers her head to rub her arms.
The footsteps shift from foot to foot, and then a sigh sounds from outside. Fiddling with her shirt, she waits several more seconds for the stranger to speak. He doesn't, and finally Kairi shrugs, trailing her hands along the inner lining of her tee, bowing her chin as she prepares to slip the fabric over her body. She crooks her arms, slipping her arms through, when suddenly the doorknob twists and her door swings gently open. Jumping, she foolishly whirls to face her intruder, and her mouth flies open in shock to see two very blue, very wide eyes locked with her own.
She can't breathe and he can't move as the door sways on its hinges and her shirt puddles around her feet.
Belatedly, she shrieks and wraps her arms around her chest, and he covers his eyes, stuttering and stumbling out of the doorway. "I-I'm so sorry. S-so so—I didn't mean it, honest! Riku mentioned that you needed to wake up and I heard voices and I thought—Oh, God, I'm sorry!"
Her face is pulsing with heat. "Well I'm up now!" she snaps angrily. "So get the fuck out."
Sora peeks through his hands at her awkwardly before he stiffens, his face heating, and whirls immediately around. His shoulders are straight and his arms are rigid at his sides as he reports like a diligent sentry, "R-Riku wants me to sh-show you around."
"Does that include watching me dress?" she remarks coldly.
He turns his head slightly in question, catching a glimpse of her expression from the corner of his eye, before he blushes again and turns straight. "N-no." He clears his throat. "Uh, no. But I thought you'd like me to wait—"
"No. I don't."
His shoulders sag slightly. "Are you sure? I don't mi—"
"I can find the fucking stairs. Now get out."
Sora hesitates, planting his hand at the back of his neck and rubbing his palm back and forth against the skin in thought. She fumes silently as he refuses to budge, getting ready to reach down and grab her hairbrush to throw at him if he saw much shifts an inch in her direction. Her fingers twitch at her side in agitation, and her skin prickles in the silence.
"I'll, uh, meet you downstairs then," he says finally, breaking through the tension, and she blinks at the softness of his words and the lack of anger in his tone. Without so much as glancing back, he walks straight out of the doorway, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his ears burning as he bows his head. Running her fingernails lightly along her arm, she purses her lips in thought, unable to understand him. She has never met a person so gentle and patient in her entire life. He confuses her. Sighing and shaking her head, she tugs the shirt fully over her torso, stoops down to grab her toiletries, and marches, still fuming, off to the bathroom.
-- - --
Sora is spinning idly on a bar still, hands planted on the seat's edges, when she descends the final step and walks into the café. She avoids his eyes as she tilts her head and winds an elastic band three times around her locks, aware of Roxas hovering curiously around the brown-haired youth and cocking his head in thought.
"What did you do to him?" the blond asks innocently.
She shoots him a glare, but at the same time Sora glances up, and his face immediately flushes in embarrassment as their gazes lock. Whirling around in an instant, he stares down at the polished counter, his ears tinged with color as he directs an awkward smile toward his hands.
"Seriously. What did you do?" Roxas hovers over to her persistently, prodding her arm with a transparent, intangible hand. She rolls her eyes in frustration. "Give him a good tongue lashing? He looks like he just got his hand caught in the cookie jar."
"He walked in on me while I was changing," she grumbles, giving her ponytail a tug.
Roxas blinks slowly, and then, his face crinkling up, he gives a short bark of laughter. Hissing out a frustrated breath, she waves her hand through him, as if to dispel his image like smoke, and strides over to where Sora is quietly sitting. The bell on the door rings, and Kairi freezes slowly, she spots a trio a tall girl with long black hair, a man with spiky black hair – and then red, all she can see is red. She ducks down, ignoring Sora's stare, she takes a deep breath, and she digs her nails into her thighs anything to keep her from hyperventilating.
"Can we get some service here?" she hears one of the men say. His order is followed by a thud. "Christ, Tifa! That hurt!" he whines.
"You better kiss it and make it all better, or Reno might leave you for someone a little less lethal," teases the other voice. Neither belongs to Axel, but she still can't move. All she sees is red. Red, red, red.
"Be nice. Riku owns this—"
"Dump," says the first voice.
"Dump," confirms the other.
"Fine…coffee shop." She continues to ignore the other two, walking over to the counter and leaning on it. Sora doesn't move, and Kairi glares at him. "Get up!" she mouths.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Roxas hisses into her ear, and she runs her hand right through him. It goes through him like smoke, but he doesn't disperse like last time. He continues to stare at her with hard, blue eyes. "Get up."
She shakes her head hard, memories shooting through her brain. He has to see the fear on her face, but he won't care. Dead people don't have hearts, especially for girls who killed them. He sighs, rubbing his temples. "It's not him, trust me – I wouldn't be anywhere near you if he was." He puts his hands on her shoulders, and she flinches, but she can't feel anything.
"Uh, welcome to, um, Hearts' Café. How can I help you?" Sora asks the group, hovering over her awkwardly. Roxas scowls as one of Sora's legs goes through and floats backwards. Kairi scoots further under the counter, making herself as little as possible as Sora stands over her. His eyes are still on her, but she doesn't look at him. She won't look at either of them.
Riku's right, though. Sora is a people person. He easily chitchats with the group, while she hide beneath him. Roxas mutters every few minutes about her stupid fears. When they leave, Sora moves and just stares down at Kairi, but what is she supposed to say? Instead of waiting for an answer, though, he holds out his hand to her as help. She stares at it for a moment, but still it remains, Sora's fingers beckoning for her to hurry up. She bites her lip.
"Get the fuck up already," Roxas tells her, crossing his arms. "You can do it on your own." But she ignores him, tenderly reaching out for Sora's hand. His skin is soft and warm compared to her own cold and clammy hands. Her fingers entwine with his as he lifts her up without effort, and Roxas groans as Sora smiles. She lets go of his hand at once, wondering what that one little gesture had done.
After that, Sora decides to teach the ropes, often flashing smile, little smiles, to which she returns none. She follows his instructions but refuses to interact with him. He deals with the customers, she deals with the coffee machines. This doesn't seem to phase him at all – in fact, it only persuades him to talk more.
Roxas hates this. Once, while Sora was grabbing something for her, Roxas took the liberty to poke his face, searching for the off button. They may look alike, but they're complete opposites – little nods and shakes of the head won't do it. Sora always waits patiently for her to respond to something he has asked or said, and she only shrugs. It seemed to put him out of first, but now he hardly notices. He's always watching her carefully, as if waiting for her to chip in. She never does.
By the end of the day, she is more worn out from listening to Sora that from the work itself. When Naminé comes down to ask Kairi if she wants to help make dinner while Riku and Sora close up, Kairi all but flies up the stairs, Roxas in tow. "What do you want me to do?" Naminé asks, and soon Kairi is cutting up mushrooms and other vegetables. She boils and drains, things she hasn't done in months. Sautées and adds herbs. She avoid the fire, which Naminé handles without question. For so long, Kairi has lived on the quick, portable things like ramen, so Chicken Alfredo is a task for her.
Roxas watches them both quietly. At first this pleases Kairi, but slowly it begins to irritate her. "Are you all right?" she asks him aloud.
"Fine!" Naminé calls from the kitchen.
"I'm dead. What do you think?" He watches as Naminé cooks. "Axel used to use ramen noodles instead." He nods toward Naminé as she mixes the madness all together. Kairi mentally cringes at the sound of his name, while Roxas stares longingly out the window and Naminé continues to cook, unaware of it all. Silence covers them like a blanket, until suddenly Naminé squeals. Kairi shoots up off the couch, and Roxas rolls his eyes at her. Riku had snuck up on the petite blonde, picking her by the waist and spinning her around.
"Riku, the Alfredo's going to burn!" she chides, but she kisses him all the same. Kairi gets up, moving to stir it, but Sora beats her to it. Riku nods his thanks, carrying Naminé into their room. The blonde is redfaced and laughing the whole way there. Kairi envies that. She can't remember the last person she could share that type of connection with.
"There's always Sora," Roxas sneers. Kairi glares at him, running her hand through him. He disappears, an eternal scowl on his face. And once more, Sora and Kairi are alone.
Kairi turned back to the couch, labeling it as her sanctuary. "Selphie?" Sora asks, his voice unsure. She pretends not to hear him, paying close attention to the news. Munny stocks are down. How interesting. "Selphie?" he calls again. Kairi flips the channel. Maleficent is running against Mickey for president? She doesn't stand a chance.
He taps her shoulder, and she finds that she can't immerse herself in things that she doesn't care about. "What?" She spits the word out.
"I know we got off on the wrong foot…" he begins, laughing as he says this. He had better not be thinking about this morning. Kairi glares him daggers, but he doesn't flinch.
"That's an understatement," she mumbles, and he smiles. Maybe it's because he has finally gotten three words out of her that aren't full of hate or point blank. She mentally scoffs at him.
"But I would like us to be friends, since we're going to be living together." He drums his fingers on the back of his neck, and shook her head, sighing. Why dpes he have to make this so hard?
"You don't want to be friends with me." She gets off the couch and begins to walk away from him, but can't escape him so easily. He follows right behind her as she turns off the burner and then makes her way toward the balcony.
"Why not?" he persuades. She is hit by a cold gust of air first as she steps out, but she embraces it. Sora hesitates, the chilly wind blowing strands of his chocolate brown hair, but he comes out after her. He just won't learn. She's trouble. If only he could hear Roxas. Then he'd see. He wouldn't want to be friends with her then. He wouldn't even want to be in the same room with her. The ugly truth has left her branded. She can only cover them up with alluring lies, ones that will hopefully keep her afloat – or maybe, if she's lucky, drown her.
"It's more trouble than it's worth." She bites back the truth, Roxas's words loud in her head: "She just signed your death sentence." No. No. Not if she can help it. She only needs to stay here for a few weeks, just enough time to get munny. Then she's off again.
"I doubt that." 'Please,' her eyes call to him. 'I'm telling the truth.' But she knows better. He'll only believe her lies. Anything remotely close to the truth is too impossible to fathom.
"You'd get hurt."
"Well, I won't know unless I try, right?" He holds out his hand, and she reluctantly shakes it. It's only three weeks, only three weeks. He can get attached all he wants. She did warn him, didn't she?
"Don't say I didn't warn you," she states, just for good measure. He pulls her into the apartment, smiling now that she has agreed to this twisted new friendship. Her body wants do nothing else but head for the hills, and she knows that her mind wouldn't object. But something, from that singular touch, ignites within her, something Kairi can't place. All she knows is that she doesn't like it. Not at all.
Sora grabs them two plates. "You know, Selphie, as your friend," he's really making her regret it early on, " I gotta say – I don't think you're as cruel-hearted as you want us to think." She smiles at this. He's such a silly person. How can he not think of her as cruel? "I've had my fair share of cold-hearted people, and you just don't fit the persona."
"Then what am I?" she challenges.
"I'm not sure." He hand her plate. "But I intend to find out."
He's different than the people she has encountered, but she isn't a mystery and he isn't Sherlock Homes. Kairi's a girl on the run, and Sora is just one of the many she'll leave behind.
They eat in relative silence.
"How long do you think they're going to be in there?" she asks. He slurps up a noodle and leans back, putting his hands behind his head thoughtfully. Leaning over the couch, his body stretching as far as it can without falling, he calls out, "I want a little girl!" Kairi's face flushes pink, and giggles escape her before she can bite them back. Riku and Naminé don't react, however, and Sora shrugs, leaning back to finish his dish. He folds his feet in, sitting Indian style, his plate resting in his lap. "They're probably asleep."
"More for us then," she replies, stabbing the chicken. He grins, and she can't help but wonder why. The smile fades quickly, though, like a flicker. His face is suddenly serious, and it made her look behind her, just in case some danger is coming. (It isn't).
"Selphie, what happened to your arm?"
She begins to choke on the Alfredo. She hadn't expected that – not from anyone. She just looks at him, at his face tinted slightly. When she remembers this morning, she groans. She thought about what alluring words to use to put his sincere worries to rest. "I got burned."
"Looks pretty bad," he comments, watching her. His face shows no emotions, but his eyes are filled with pity.
"It was," she replies.
Before she can stop it, she starts to remember that day. The fire. Axel. They mix together, reds meeting yellows, greens falling into oranges, his image into fire. That day had been horrible. And it replays in her mind, like a broken record.
Again and again and again.
x – x – x
Whew. Finished and beta'd. Please review!