----------------------------
Glue & Duct tape
Chapter Five . Not So Wonderful Land
-------------------
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I miss her.
I was sitting there, waiting for the truth to smack me in the face, and I didn't fully realize it until I was just beginning to settle (or trying to, anyway) into the rather uncomfortable metal seating accommodations. My chair reminded me of one you'd find in an airliner – no leg room.
Shifting with a slight frown tugging at my lips, I searched the cockpit for some kind of relief. An array of control panels like pews in a church sanctuary were splayed before me as an offering, alight with vibrant neon hues. Regardless of the surplus of apparatuses, it was still a simple task to start the vessel up. Hit the giant red button that said 'POWER.' It doesn't take a genius to figure that out. Even Sora would've gotten it.
I guess you could say all those glowing keys reminded me of Kairi. Oh, God, I know – how pathetic. She was always so happy and optimistic, but ever since two days ago she hadn't been. Looking at those nodes that danced red, green, and blue, light reflected in my aquamarine eyes caused me to slip further into my depressing illusion of miserable hopelessness, which in turn caused me to deplore my pitiable feelings. I just wanted to see her smile again. Not her having tears streaming down her cheeks, or the worst option – not seeing her at all.
This was what was unfortunately taking place.
My hand slammed down on the console to try and clear my mind, or to simply release my frustration. It was the wrong hand to abuse. I groaned, praying the blood wouldn't start flowing all over the keyboard. That would be another wonderful addition of mood-spoiling, a sport in which I did not particularly fancy but was enduring it with as much courageous composure as possible. When I did not see any change of colour that would signify the leaking of bodily fluids within the white hand-wrap, I leaned back in my chair and tried my hardest to relax. First, I drew attention to the muscles in my shoulders and wrung out the knots by rolling them methodically: three times backwords, thrice forewords. Pinning my eyes shut, I bent my neck and heard a satisfying crack.
To be thoroughly blunt as I usually am, now that I was behind the wheel (was there even one?), I felt like nothing more than to sleep. Not a good idea. I didn't think this thing was hi-tech enough to steer itself to . . . wherever.
Oh yeah. I didn't know where the heck I was going. Sure, you'd say, Wherever Sora and Kairi are, of course! It wasn't that simple or easy. Sora had been whooshed into a doorway, and Kairi . . . had abandoned me. The snitch! I was never going to help her make a soufflé again once we return to the islands.
Yes, that's right. I was a master chef. Blame my mother. She was always in the kitchen when I was younger and forced me to pour over recipes when I could barely read (and the chicken scratch on the faded note cards weren't exactly aiding my learning process) and perform various shows of child labour. My dad liked big dinners, so she was obliged to comply. He also liked cookies.
"Hi Riku! Sora!"
The fact that Kairi was in my kitchen did not surprise me. It was the fact that she was actually doing something in it. After greeting us with geniality, she spun around to open the oven door, and a smokescreen curled out from its containment and formed a dismal grey cloud around her head. She covered her mouth with the oven mitt and coughed into it, a harsher, grating sound that wasn't normal when you merely got a whiff of singed food.
I slung my backpack onto the floor and walked over to her, Sora following behind before something suddenly caught his ill-divided attention and sent him diving towards the round table. Most likely it was something shiny.
"Kai, you're sick. Here – let me." With a hacking gratitude, she let me take the pan she had pulled out from the furnace, hands defended by ivy-patterned hot pad armour. She had stayed home from school due to her sickness, and her absence had been missed. The teachers loved her and called her name hopefully at least a dozen times while taking roll.
Like in math class, for instance.
"Koiru.
"Koiru.
"Koiru.
"Kairi Koiru.
"Anyone?
"Anyone?"
And such as in art.
"Riku Akira."
"Yeah."
"Sora Hiraku?"
"Present!"
"Selphie Imiri."
"Here!" Then she returned to looking at herself in a compact mirror while fastidiously drawing emo tears on her face with charcoal.
"Oh Miss P?" Sora chirped amongst the grumble of affirmatives from the students. I glanced wearily across the table at him; he who was practically leaping out of his seat in all his anxious glory.
"Tidus Kalamani . . ."
"Whathuh?"
"Asleep again, Mr. Kalamani?"
"Oh, yes ma'am . . . uh, no ma'am!"
"Miss Pelini!"
She glanced up from her paper, but not at the hyperactive brunette. "Wakka Keru?"
"Ya?"
"Oh Miss P – !"
As quietly as possible, I lowered my head so that it connected with the desk. Selphie offered me a quirked eyebrow and poked her girlfriend in the arm, giggling.
"Riku! Pay attention."
That was when Sora combusted.
"MissPeliniKairi'snothere –"
My head remained firmly attached to the cool, hard surface of the desk.
"She'sSICK –"
"Mr. Akira, that'll be a detention," Miss Pelini crisply noted, walking back to her desk, high heels clacking prissily on the tiled floor.
"Oh, and Kairi Koiru is absent. Of course," She added dryly, passing me a translucent pink slip of paper across the desk and leaving Sora to join me in the head-desk communion.
I suppose she sought refuge from her loneliness in the warm haven of my kitchen. In turn, I felt charmed.
Kairi plopped down in the wooden chair next to Sora, her coughing spasm finally subsiding. My friend stared at her for a moment before inevitably opening his huge flapper. I inwardly d'oh'd comparably to Homer Simpson.
"God, Kai, you're really sick. I mean, you're like coughing everywhere. Like my cat when he has a hairball. Mr. McMuffles doesn't throw up on cookies, though, but there was that one time . . ." The brunette screwed up his face either in contemplation or disgust at a particular memory of his feline regurgitating, perhaps on his shoe.
"We don't need to know, Sora," I said cheerfully enough, dismissing his ramblings and frowning down at the scorched and misshapen cookies. It looked like the Cookie Monster or Trogdor the Burninator had gotten to them before I had. Well; you win some, you lose some. How appropriate for what had happened hours rather than years before.
"Are those braids in your hair, Riku?"
Kairi was staring raptly at the back of my head with immense interest. I fingered the area loosely – sure enough, there were three small but visible braids set in a row in my silver hair, tied by different coloured rubber bands. I lightly blushed.
"I have them too, Kairi! See?" Sora exclaimed too excitedly, leaning over so Kairi could get a good look at his feminine accessories within his gigantic spikes. She covered her mouth with her hand and this time giggled instead of coughed.
"Did you two do that during your 'male bonding time'?"
What an understatement. Sora and I did lots of better things when we hung out together. Like burn buildings and torture small children.
Not really. Sora would be too chicken to do any of that. He'd be the fireman and the one who rescues the screaming, traumatized victims. I'd be the arsonist.
"No. Selphie did it during health class. She claimed she was 'bored' and wanted to learn how to do It 'doggy style,' not fiber-enriched food that can be beneficial to your colon."
Sora frowned. "Selphie is dirty sometimes."
"Riku is, too," Kairi added lightly, and not knowing whether to take this as an insult or not, unconsciously jerked my hand when she began to unbraid Sora's hair while he wildly protested. I had already ripped mine out.
"No, Riku's just gay."
Now that was an insult.
I smacked my hand on the table, which pinned a few torn strands of silvery hair beneath it. "Am not! You're the one who was insisting Selphie use the pink rubber bands –"
"Riku –"
"The friggen pink rubber bands –"
"You two are too silly. I missed you both today."
We both stopped yelling (or at least I did) and stared at Kairi as if she was a rediscovered species.
"Why thank you, Kairi." Was what I managed to cough up.
"We missed you too." Said Sora sincerely.
I miss them both.
I quickly began to notice a sickness eating away at my stomach like bad indigestion, similar to the kind I underwent after devouring those burned and germ-riddled cookies. We all were taking turns with bathroom breaks for the next hour in my single lavatory. If I recalled correctly, Sora tossed his cookies, literally. It wasn't because I had an empty stomach, either, and the acid was doing its work at chowing down my destitute organ. I reminded myself that I hadn't eaten in the past roughly estimated forty-eight hours, and the last food that had gone down the dark abyss of my throat had been a carrot and a swig of fermented cereal. Hey, I liked carrots. And contrary to popular belief, they did not turn you into a sickish orange colour. I've been eating them since Kindergarten and I still have perfectly porcelain clear skin. The beer I could have passed on. I was beginning to think it was getting to my head and frying numerous critical brain cells with its degenerating alcohol. How much had I drunken anyway; one percent?
My calculating and brooding thoughts were interrupted by a muffled 'thump' coming from the main area of the aircraft. What the hell was that – space matter? Had an asteroid hit the ship and I was going to drop millions of miles through the galaxy until I crashed into a planet (by then I'd be reduced to a compressed, swirling fireball)? Was I over-exaggerating and hearing things? Probably. That assured me to erase my embarrassing jumpiness by turning back around and attempting to doze off in my chair. I figured the spaceship could fly itself, after all, since it hadn't begun malfunctioning yet. If all my dreams came true, then it would be programmed on a set path and lead me to Sora and Kairi. By the time I woke up, they'd be waiting outside for me to open the door and let them in. Ah, bliss.
"Hey . . . why does it feel like we're . . . moving?"
"Moving? Whaaaaaaa?"
Eye that had previously been shut in retirement flew open and I stared straight ahead at the darkened glass, petrified. My God, this ship was haunted. But I knew that slow voice and the scratchy one from anywhere. They were, unfortunately, unmistakable.
"Fsghdkohdejolsnjws! What the heck is going ON?!"
This outburst was followed by a succession of cluttering and banging as if someone were tripping over a plethora of pots and pans. Undoubtedly that was what was happening, because a second later, Donald Duck stumbled through the adjacent door with a stainless steel frying pan flying past his webbed foot. He was followed by a lanky figure that cast a melancholy shadow on the duck's ivory feathers.
I think I would have preferred ghosts.
"What are you doing here?!" The poultry demanded, his goldenrod jaws clacking with ferociousness. The scary effect was ruined, however, on the account of an absence of teeth. Obviously, he had forgotten my threat of frying him for Thanksgiving dinner. At the moment, the plan sounded indeed a good one.
"What are YOU doing here?" I barked back, showing off my teeth. "I thought you were staying at the hotel!" Never had I guessed to bother with checking the back for the royal's two lackeys. Why should I have done so? They were supposed to be tucked safely in their starched beds light years away, asleep and not badgering me.
"Well hiya, Riku." Goofy said bravely, late on the matter yet impossibly placid. These two were incredible. Incredibly irritating.
"We were," Began Donald, but he closed his beak (thankfully) and seemed too overcome with bottled up frustration to continue explaining themselves. He really needed to let that go. Then again, look who was talking. I felt like I could punch something right now – preferably something mutant and white.
". . . Yuffie sorta, well uh, sorta – gosh, she scared us, y'know?" Goofy finished for him, and between the stalling and stuttering, I sympathized with them. At least we shared some common ground, though I wasn't the one who was a talking animal. I knew all too well that I was dreading waking up to Yuffie standing over me with a maniac grin on her face in that hotel room.
"At least we can get a head start now, I guess."
I sank in my seat. The realization hit home hard. I was stuck with these guys after waking up in the dead of the night in order to escape them.
Sometimes, my luck literally sucked.
". . . I'm going to bed," I grumbled, rising from my seat and brushing past Donald like a puff of hot air. God, I hoped they had beds. Big ones. In separate rooms. If I heard Our Lovable Goof call from behind "Oh, we're sharing beds, you know," I think I'd scream.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
I was going to open a portal with my hand. Yippee; so technology was up-to-date. However, it wanted to scan the hand that was bandaged and therefore awkwardly lumpy, distorting the process of entrance. The computer bleeped at my struggles.
"Access denied."
I firmly slid my hand further across the glowing green screen paneling the wall, readjusting its position for another hopefully successful try.
"Access denied."
"Come on."
"Access denied," It calmly repeated.
"Shit." It hadn't occurred to me until the third try (three times's the charm, right?) that I probably needed to be registered to this ship in order for the door to open, and that my palm's reading wouldn't be stored in the database.
A divided wing appeared where my hand had been, and I jumped back in surprise. The door slid open and glaring up at me by my side was Donald. I offered him a twitch of my lips, mocking an innocent smile, before practically leaping into the small dormitory. The door slid shut with a reassuring click.
I found myself in a small, grey compartment, the ceiling low and the walls lined with slender metal tubing, purpose unknown. For all I could guess, it was for decoration. Little chips of chartreuse lights were attached to these interesting tapestries, glittering like techno stars. A slice of rectangle was my bed, clad in dark blue sheets set into more rigid steel. Inwardly, I winced. It'd have to do. How long would I be able to sleep anyway? We'd probably be at our first stop soon, and then I could go kick some Heartless ass.
Regardless, I felt my knees sink into the mattress (which was actually quite buoyant) and lowered my aching body down onto it. I pulled my pillow into an embrace and pretended it was Kairi, and henceforth drifted into oblivion.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
I dreamt. Remembered might be a better word, if you can visit your memories in dreamland.
A steaming tray of cookies would be my gift for my father the night he came home from his trip. Sugar cookies, since he didn't like the chocolate chips. "Too sugary," He'd say, followed by a short staccato laugh of irony. I never understood that – I was too young to so it simply baffled me how a few measly flecks of chocolate could make a sugar cookie too sweet. Sometimes I just didn't get my father's attempts at jokes – perhaps because they appeared in my life as rarely as he did. I suppose that I inherited his trait of self-humorous satisfaction.
Sitting quietly at the dinner table, it was proving to be quite difficult to contain my excitement. Finally, I'd gain his approval. Finally. But the cookies were dessert and it had to be a surprise. Dad was only barely finishing up his meal. So I jittered my feet, neglecting my own food with anticipation and watching my father slowly eat with an open, attentive gaze.
His fork rose in the air, gleaming silver in the pool of yellow light that separated the table from all of its inhabitants, and he parted his strong jaws either to eat or to speak. In this case, it was to speak.
To my mother, he all but grunted, "Good dinner, Lailie."
My mom; a meek, mousy sort of a woman, folded her hands neatly on her lap as she always did, which was occupied by a pristine white napkin. She pursed her thin lips in silent thanks, nearly causing them to melt away into the parchment-coloured skin.
Ultimately, I could hold back no longer.
"Dad . . . ?" My eyes watched him eagerly, soaking up his movements when he stood up from his chair, and I could see the smooth brown surface of his head. As patiently as possible, I waited for him to acknowledge my presence, which he so little did.
"Mm?" He off-handedly mused, picking up his grey suit coat from the back of his chair, and I registered instantly that his mind was on other things. On the job. Yes, always. Mustn't bother Daddy now, dear. He's doing Business.
"I baked cookies." Only after it came from my mouth did I realize how pitiful it sounded, detecting the weak tremble of hopefulness in my tone of voice. "For you," I added, as to accentuate the significance.
"That's nice," His pseudo-comment was spoken through barely parted lips, eyes still unable to reach mine. Instead they turned to my mother, ignorant once more of my barely detectable presence. "I should be going."
"Yes."
"Dad, you're leaving again?" My words slurred on a partially numbed tongue from disbelief. I stood frozen to the spot, watching my dad – my gaze of mortification and adoration never leaving his tall, nearly hulking form – but wanting to go get those cookies that were hidden behind the counter at the same time. Suddenly, I wanted to eat all of them and stuff my face with gluttony that I was certain I could receive.
His terse reply was a simple, impersonal 'yep' of affirmation.
"Where?"
At last he looked at me, and with a weary grin he replied in a hollow voice, "If I tell you, I'd have to kill you."
This threat traumatized me. I was only seven at the time and utterly oblivious. With my mouth hanging slightly agape, I was half-aware of my father departing through the kitchen door and abandoning my mother and me for another four weeks.
"Mommy, why does Dad always have to go somewhere?" My question to my mother was not cautious like the ones I directed to my father as she tucked me into bed later that night. My father had a natural aura that caused even the strongest of souls to back down and sometimes even tuck their tails between their legs in submission. At my young and peacefully non-rebellious age, that single year when every child seems to suffer a sort of whimsical calm in between the storms of needy toddler and demanding teenager, I was no exception.
"Because he's in the army, dear. Soldiers have to travel a lot." The mechanical answer left me doubtful. Now I realize that my mother was defending Daddy, as he defended where we lived. She was her own soldier, in a way. She was even vacant a lot in my life, too – just not physically.
"Why, though?" A persistent child, no matter how docile, never gives up their questions.
"It's good because he makes money doing it," She retorted, tugging at my sheets. "So I can stay here with you whenever he leaves." She finished explaining after a tense pause, and I ignored her nervous habit of straightening the covers when they were already rigid at the time and cast off what they could have meant. My mother is a simple woman; her every move is not able to be dissected. She is not composed of a thousand schemes wired together in an intricate bundle of mystery; although she keeps a lot to herself (which caused a breakdown when my father died), she is free of all hidden intentions and selfish indulgences and desires.
My father travelled often until his death, both of which I grew accustomed to. In fact, his frequent absences were what brought him to his demise.
She kissed me coldly on the forehead and my room fell under the power of the black, the darkness that drives all children's nightmares.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Donald was driving.
Oh. God.
He had a brain; that much I could prove. Granted, I had never seen the supposed miniscule amount of grey matter, and if I had the chance I'd rip it out and stomp on it to even further reduce it into compressed blobs¤.
Did he have a license? Were animals legally accepted with equal rights? In his world, I wouldn't doubt it.
I hope that I would never have to go to his world.
I stumbled drunkenly into the cockpit, unsure of what had awoken me. My mind's decision was set on the darkness that I wanted to hide from; either that or I had a killer headache and what I assumed must be a first-degree hangover. I was no sissy.
Partially hiding an enormous yawn with my hand, I blinked my iceberg eyes sleepily. I sort of wanted coffee. Caffeine was never good for my head, though – I barely got a high from it, just a measly, listless kick, and then a crashing low. Of course for Sora, the stimulant drug had a different effect. He bounced off the walls twice as hard. When he had caffeine in his body, there was one word of advice I could give: Watch out.
Suddenly, the ship lurched foreward, and I careened in the same direction and into the back of Donald's chair. Metal plus head equaled a greater migraine.
"Sorry." He sounded suspiciously unapologetic.
I unglued my face from the chair and swished my tongue across the teeth in my mouth, hoping none were broken. I already had a messed up hand – a broken face would add to my growing list of injuries.
Do I get a purple heart?
Despite my steadily increasing anger because of this unfortunate situation, I was too tired to explode with the strings of profanities rushing through my jumbled head. Instead I ignored Donald and turned slightly to Goofy, who was situated in the copilot seat.
"Are we there yet."
"Not yet, Mister Keyblade Bearer."
"It's Riku."
"Sure; whatever you say, Riku." I had a feeling he'd revert back to some other dorky title like 'Master R to the Iku' the next time he responded to me.
"How'd you like it if I called you 'Goof'?" I grunted.
"Well, that's my nickname anyway, so I guess I wouldn't really mind; hyuck!"
I stared blankly at him. Sick, sick, sick.
"Where are we going, anyway." I knelt down on the floor. More metal. It was difficult to get comfortable around this joint.
"Heh . . . it's a surprise, ain't it, Donald?"
"A surprise," The duck growled, glowering at the darkened glass before him.
"Everything's been a surprise for me lately. Most of them bad ones," I stated soberly. That earned me a curious glance from Donald.
"Well, it's the truth."
"Gosh, Riku, I know how it may seem . . ."
"No. You don't," I cut the oversized dog off. One of the things I loathed was when people tried to understand your problems when they couldn't, and probably never would. "You have no idea.
"Just tell me where the hell we're going."
I glared at Donald, so defined that it was almost visible: still steely daggers suspended in midair, shooting towards their target. I hoped he felt them burning into the side of his head, but he never even returned my stare. I felt vaguely offended and clenched my unharmed fist to keep my anger further contained in a bottle that was threatening to shatter. Take it out on the Heartless, Riku, my good angel told me.
"We don't need to.
We're here." Donald said finally.
Those two words were all I needed. I leapt up a little too quickly and fought off a wave of dizziness. Righting myself, I bounded towards the door that had just jolted open, leading to the outside world.
Now I had to struggle with disorientation. My surroundings were red, green, white, and yellow. It was . . . flowery, but they weren't normal flowers I was looking out. Or 'shrooms. There were a lot of mushrooms the size of clubhouses, polka-dotted like strange ladybugs. I was beginning to wonder about that beer again, and just what side-effects the word 'hallucinogen' entailed.
I heard the light flapping of webbed feet on the metal ramp followed by the heavy thudding of giant shoes behind me.
"Gawrsh, sure is a Wonderland, huh?" Goofy commented admiringly, shielding his eyes and looking around.
"Aww, shmooey," Donald said, waving him off with a wing. "Let's just go find that queen we need to talk to."
I felt my shoulders tighten. "Yes, let's." The back of my nape nearly bristled with inferiority at being included in their little party. The only group I ever wanted to be included in was the one Sora, Kairi and I had. What we originally had, anyway.
"Hey, Riku!"
"Where are you GOING?!"
I had broken into a sprint. I was getting away from them. Away, away, away from the obnoxious Goof and spastic Duck.
"Sure, like I'd go with you losers," I called, barely looking back. My arms, bended at the elbows, swung at my sides vigorously with each leap I took. I traversed tufts of grass that were as green as clusters of spiny emerald shards rising up from the surface of the earth and toadstools like red rubies drizzled with quartz and flecked with diamond. It was funny how this outdoor place was looking more like a subterranean rock mine than a meadow or forest – maybe it was the lack of nature I saw stuck inside of that spaceship that had me believing otherwise.
Their voices faded eventually and I considered slowing down, or even stopping. My sides were beginning to burn – a slow, steady pace, but painful nonetheless. I still wasn't used to overexerting myself: the instances when I had to fight the Heartless back home were extemporaneous.
But before I could gracefully carry out my ideal vision of a break, I tripped over a mushroom.
I cursed as I went down, face-first into the soil. To my mouth's content, I grabbed snippets of grass and dirt with my teeth and nearly choked them down (by accident, of course. I wasn't a rabbit – even if I did occasionally gnaw on a carrot or two). Mmm, my taste buds were loving my new diet.
When the hell was I going to get food, anyway?
"I'm late, I'm late – ohh, I'm so late!" Speaking of rabbits . . . A white blur zoomed by me, zigzagging and out of control clad in a red suit and holding what seemed to be a golden pocket watch in his misshapen paw.
My first thought: Not more oversized talking animals! Needless to say, I was weirded out. I suppose that I should be used to it now – I wasn't. I don't think I ever will be, either.
I stood up and brushed my knees off, attention lingering on my scuffed pants a little longer than I originally intended. Aerith should've washed these, too, if she had gotten the chance.
On second thought, that would mean me being naked in the presence of some temperamentally freakish people. Never mind. I'd have to deal with the inch of dirt smothering my clothes. It was only an inch.
"I'm late I'm late I'm LATE!" The oversized rabbit (I guess you'd call it a hare?) continued to splurge, eyes bulging from their sockets.
"Okay, okay buddy. I get it," Came my growl, startling him. He (at least I assumed it was a he because of his scant clothing) flung himself at least eight feet in the air and foreward at the sound of my voice. I held back my sarcastic applause. Was he thinking, 'Don't eat me don't eat me don't eat me'? Though I had never tried the delicacy that was rabbit, I could turn wolf for just a day and eat this newfound company. Problem was, there was a decidedly lack of silverware in this territory.
"I could make a fork out of a tree branch," I mused aloud, and the rabbit whirled his eyes at me and began to stutter.
"Wh-what?"
"Hum?" Raising my brows, I blinked and remembered that this was, regrettably, an animal of some intelligence. A genius because of his oversized eyeglass, wouldn't you know. It would be inhumane to stone him and then roast him over an open fire. Of course, there were always exceptions – Donald was one. "Oh, nothing." My gaze snapped back away, narrowing.
"If you sayso. Hurry up; you're making me late."
"Late for what?" It wasn't that I had any interest in this rabbit's personal stuff. I just wondered if there was some kind of civilization around here . . . and not controlled by talking animalia.
"The Queen! The Queen's meeting!"
I leaned foreward slightly, hope growing. "Queen?" Animals didn't have governments, surely. At least none would be fit to rule something. My only clouded guess was that she was human, and could help me get to Sora and Kairi in some way.
"Follow me."
The rabbit didn't bother waiting up. He continued his Speedy Gonzales pace, and I struggled to keep up. We entered deeper into the outskirts of a forest, and I had to push past brambles and step over shrubs which considerably slowed me down. When I called out an awkward label for him, he didn't stop, so I guess he must have forgotten about me. I let him fade from sight, surrounded and drowning in the green vegetation.
"Dammit. This isn't good." I plopped down onto my haunches, burying my chin into my knuckles. I didn't huddle there devastated in my self-pity for long.
"What ever is the matter?" At first I sardonically thought that perhaps God had gifted the trees with vocals as well, but then a girl with pools of yellow hair stepped out from the foliage and peered at me curiously, immaculate hands behind her back and left me appreciating my sanity.
A little more artlessly than usual, I stood up in her presence and nearly tripped over my own shoes. She watched me without amusement. Realizing suddenly that I didn't know what to do with my hands, I let them fall limp at my sides. Still watching me, expecting an answer. Stop staring at me, will you? I didn't let myself say something so harsh to her out loud, because trashing fellow human existence wouldn't be cool.
It took me just a second to regain my composure, and by then I was ready to talk. "If I told you, you probably wouldn't believe me."
She laughed then. I didn't expect it. It was like the tinkling of bells – not quite a giggle. Just the clear, pure laughter of youth, uncut by cynical doubt. "Oh, believe me; everything here is believable, even though it seems like too much for belief."
Her logic had just nearly made my brain implode. In return, I gave her my silence.
She smiled her strangely full lips, and I realized that she was a little older than I had originally thought. Maybe Kairi's age, or perhaps a year younger.
"I'm Alice. Who might you be, since I don't believe you're from around here."
"You don't believe much, do you?" I drawled sarcastically, and then told her my name. "Riku."
"I asked you what could be wrong with you earlier, but if you don't want to tell me . . ." She either feigned pouting, or I was just imagining things. Or I had been spending too much time with Sora before he dropped off of the face of the planet.
"Well, I'm sort of . . . lost." I didn't bother telling her about my friends because I already figured she wouldn't be able to help me. One step at a time. Yeah, call me selfish or untrusting for instantly second-guessing anyone I met. Who I thought could help me most in this dwelling would be that Queen the rabbit had spoken of.
And wait. Did I just admit that I was lost? Kairi would be proud.
Maybe. If she still cared about me, thoughts and feelings and all, since she had more or less left me without even a goodbye.
"How convenient!" Alice said, revealing her hands and bringing them up to be placed together in a silent clap. "I find myself the same."
"Lost?"
"Yes, lost."
Great. See what I meant about her not helping?
I chewed on the inner-part of my lip, pondering. "Well, do you know –"
Before I could chance at asking her about the Queen's location, the rabbit came back. He split the area between us, back-pedaled, and swung his head towards Alice. "You!" He nearly hissed through his vampire-like front incisors, surprising us further by grabbing Alice around the wrist. "The Queen is very angry at you for escaping her, girl. But you won't do it again, now will you?" I nearly expected him to throw his head back and cackle. Whoever this queen was, I was steadily beginning to dislike her.
Just then, the rabbit began to tug her off into the foliage. "Hey!" I took a step foreward.
"Let me go, let me go!" Alice was remonstrating in her melodious voice, trying to slip her hand from his grasp. They shuffled into the forest and I belligerently followed.
Fingers splayed, they peeled back layers of leaves and twigs. In the distance, I heard a shrill 'hmph!' followed by an 'ow!' I let my imagination wander and figured that Alice had stepped promptly on the rabbit's foot. I suppressed a snicker while still trying to look for them. They seemed to have disappeared.
A labyrinth. That's what these woods were. The trees were twisted and bent, lined up to resemble a rough path that changed abruptly in certain areas and spread off in every which direction. The tangle of vegetation weaved together to create barricading walls so that it was nearly impossible to make a short cut through the dense verdure.
I don't know how long I wandered aimless through the conundrum, but I eventually broke free from the thicket and was greeted by sunlight, temporarily blinding my eyes. I squinted; the canopies of the overgrown copse had been a screen against the sun, disallowing any rays to penetrate through the leaves and grace the forest floor. I briefly wondered how there could be any life, then, when the ground got less than one percent of nutrition from the sun's energy. It was probably something I had learned in biology but never paid any attention to.
Once I regained the use of my sight, I began walking foreward again, intent upon finding Alice (well, I admit, my mind was only partially set on that matter at the time), when I lost my footing. My lips began to twist into a scowl, furious at myself for tripping like some klutz again. But as my blue eyes swerved downward, I saw with great clarity that I was not falling over a mushroom, but rather into a deep, dark hole.
It was a rabbit hole.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
N.otes
¤ Or muffins. Don't ask about the compressed muffins. You know they own you. ♥
Ugh. This took me forever to begin writing. And then to continue and complete writing. I've been very distracted by numerous things inside and outside of life ( but that isn't really an excuse, is it? ). So, as an instantaneous conclusion, I decided to stop dragging ass and just update what I have. Four months is a nice stretch of time for a hiatus-type-thing. Yes, my failage truly astounds me. In the meanwhile, you'll be getting the other half of Wonderland in the next chapter.
Anyway, I believe that this chapter thoroughly sucked, and I apologize. Uninspired. Very, very, disgustingly uninspired. I'm going to (re-)murder whoever wrote that book and made the movie ( and whoever told me to include it in this fic – Jes-si-ca ). Turning on KH1 and studying the surroundings of Wonderland only remotely helped.
The display of 'male bonding' was based off of a real life occasion. Two boys in my English class had the same things done to them by some girl in their earlier class, and their friend asked them that question. I thought it was hilarious and just too Sora and Riku-like to pass up. (: