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Why is Love so Hard to Find?

written by:

hikari - aozora

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xxo0oxx

Author's Note: So, I got a few more reviews, but not as many as I was hoping for. Kudos to the people that reviewed! You know, I hate it when (and other authors like me will agree) people just hit your story over and over and never leave any feedback. How will we know if all of our hard work isn't in vain if nobody tells us so? Reviews are appreciated ...

You will get your first glimpse of Roxas in this chapter, as promised. His appearance, though, I have to warn you, is a bit of a cameo, but I promise it won't stay that way for long. His role is very significant to the plot of the story. This is a Roxas x Namine story afterall! Besides, not all of them start off the same. Some take a while to get going, and as much as I love fluff, I despise the stories that jump right into romance and then leave you hanging after that. I'm trying to find a balance.

So ... who likes candy? I do! I bet you do too! Haha. So just pretend this chapter is a lovely candy bar and eat it all up! Just remember to review and tell me how it tastes, alright? Happy candy-devouring XD!

xxo0oxx

Disclaimer: Once upon a time, I owned Kingdom Hearts and Disney and all the wonderful characters and I lived happily ever after. Then I woke up.

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Chapter Three

Stalking strangers in the hallway is not something I do on a regular basis.

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Passing period. It's way too short.

But I found that out the hard way.

I didn't think anything of it, at first. The bell rang, and I took my sweet time in stacking my books, tucking them securely under my right arm. I got in line, behind all of the other eager choir students filing out of the door, but I was in no hurry. Last year, I had no problem getting to all of my classes on time. Five minutes was plenty of time to just walk down the hall.

Of course, it didn't help that D-hall, the eighth grade hall, was over-crowded with students of all grades, and was narrower in some spots than others. That issue was brought to my attention as soon as I stepped onto the tile, and I found myself struggling to weave my way into the pack. Traffic was heavy, and I was one little fish swimming against the current.

Nevertheless, I managed to squeezed into an empty space between two girls I had never met, and shuffled along at the same speed as everyone else ... which was slower than normal, but I didn't mind. Still, I couldn't help but think that if everyone walked just a little bit faster, we wouldn't be in such a jam.

That thought made me smile, reminding me of something rather amusing my mother had told me about real-world traffic. "You have to assume that every other driver on the road is an idiot that doesn't know what the hell they're doing," she'd said, and recalling it made me glance sideways at one of the girls and question her intelligence.

Finally, after much wriggling and squirming, I stepped foot in one of the wider sections, and was immediately overcome with a feeling of relief. The crowd had thinned and dispersed, lessening the pressure on each side of my body. But I didn't have time to enjoy the feeling, because I knew that the hall grew narrow again just ahead. So I found myself power-walking to my next destination in hopes that I could get ahead of the stragglers.

I don't like to admit it, but sometimes, I get road rage ... even though I'm not old enough to drive legally.

But then, I was cut off, as a boy just barely taller than I was slid right in front of me, causing my temper to rise. I thought about giving him a piece of my mind ... but then, I got a better look of him.

He was different ... Not in the obvious kind of way, but rather subtle. I couldn't quite grasp what it was about him that was so strange, but I was certain I had never noticed him before. He was slim, almost too, and atop his head was a mass of blonde spikes that criss-crossed over each other in an uncommon style. He walked at a different pace than everyone else. His strides were long and slow, yet he was moving faster than I, and I struggled to keep up with him. With every step he bobbed up and down, just a little bit higher than the rest of us.

Maybe it was his mannerisms.

Now, I am being completely honest in saying that stalking strangers in the hallway is not something I do on a regular basis. In fact, I find the concept of stalking, period, a little creepy. But when it came to this boy ... I just followed him, subconsciously, staring at the back of his head. I couldn't look away. It's not that I was attracted to him ... heck, I hadn't even seen his face. There was just somethinng about him that stood out to me. He was different, he was foreign, and he didn't blend in.

As the hall grew narrow again, I stepped lightly on my toes to keep up with him. He walked with a purpose, and I was curious as to where he was going. I squeezed through the oncoming people, just barely making it through without stopping, while this mystery boy did it with ease. It was becomming harder and harder to stay at his pace, and I found myself falling behind. With one last effort, I lunged forward in the crowd ... and was knocked off of my feet.

"Hey, watch it!"

I lifted myself up as the crowd grew less dense once again, finding my footing on the floor of another wider section. My head shot up, and I looked around frantically for the boy ... but he was gone. He'd disappeared into one of the classrooms while I was down.

Staring back down at the ground, I noticed that my books had been flung every which way and were scattered throughout the hall. I raced around to pick them up, desperate to still make it to my next class on time -- History. Once I had gathered them all again, I glanced toward a large, white clock hanging on a nearby wall between two doors, and I sighed. I still had about a minute left to go. 'No problem.'

Then the bell rang.

'What?'

It couldn't be ... How could I be late? Five minutes ... that had not been five minutes! I was sure of it!

But I decided that the inquiry could wait, and I made a dash toward the classroom door.

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"So, Namine, what'd you think of Coach?"

I looked up at Rikku, who was sitting barefoot and cross-legged on the floor, as we all were, next to me. "Who? Coach Wright?"

She nodded and grinned. "Yeah. I think she's a pretty awesome History teach, don't you?"

"Mhmm," I agreed, recalling last period. She was definitely ... different. I caught that much about her. But I had been a little sidetracked, though, thinking about another unusual person of the opposite gender ...

"How 'bout you, Yuna? Isn't Coach awesome?" Rikku leaned forward as she asked the question, peering over me at the brunette seated beside me. I, too, turned my attention to the girl.

Yuna, who had been busy twirling a loose loop of carpet around her finger, looked up at us, startled, upon hearing her name, with an expression that clearly stated, "Huh?" But nevertheless, she answered. "Yup, she's pretty cool. But she's not a coach."

"She used to be," Rikku said. "Maybe she got so used to being called 'Coach' she just decided to leave it ..."

The blonde trailed off, but the sentence didn't really need to be finished. We all got the point. This was just idle chitchat, anyway.

"Mhmm."

"Yeah."

"Yup."

"What are you girls talking about?"

I spun completely around in my spot to face the person who'd asked the question. It was Tidus ... no wonder. He had a habit of butting into other people's conversations ... well, moreso than most people. He absorbed all kinds of information, never forgot a single detail ... and relayed almost every bit of it to Sora.

"Nothing, Tidus," I said, putting the emphasis on his name as if I didn't like him. He was actually a pretty good friend of mine, but he was annoying at times. 'Who isn't?'

His eyes narrowed, as did mine. "Well you had to be talking about something, Namine," he said.

I raised my eyebrows. "Nope," I said, my shoulders bouncing as I spat it out. It was the truth. We weren't really talking about anything.

He huffed. "Psh. Girls are so weird. Especially blonde ones."

"Ooh, good job insulting yourself there, Tidus."

"Are you implying things?"

"Maybe."

"Psh."

That was it. End of conversation. Really interesting.

As I spun back around, I got a glimpse of Sora, sitting to the left of Tidus, folding a ripped piece of paper over and over again. The funny part was, he seemed to be concentrating so hard on it. I shook my head, stifling a laugh, and turned back to face the front. I would never understand that boy.

"Yuna, I would stop messing with the carpet, if I were you. You have no idea how many people have walked on it in their bare feet."

Yuna listened to Rikku and sat up straight. "Good point," she said.

"I mean, the smell alone --"

"Cross your legs, hands on your knees, back up straight, eyes forward, chin up, mouth closed."

Upon hearing the all-too-familiar command, we all snapped into position, and there was Mr. Matsumoto, standing at ease at the front of the room, staring down at us with a drill sergent's glare. He was clad in the same white shirt and black pants he was always wearing ... which made us wonder if he ever washed his clothes. But no one ever dared to ask him. He was a very strict man ... most of the time.

"Welcome to Karate Three, students," he said, though neither his voice nor his countenance were the least bit welcoming. "Now, it goes without saying that I --"

The teacher was cut off as a piece of paper folded into a small triangle hit him in the chest. Everyone was still, eyes wide, and not a soul dared speak ... except one.

"My bad, Mister."

I resisted the urge to reach up and slap my hand to my forehead. Like I said before, I will never understand him.

"Sora, front and center," Mr. Matsumoto ordered in a surprisingly calm voice. There was a pause, and then the shuffling of feet could be heard. Before long, the entire class was staring up at the boy who faced the teacher in the front of the room, interested in what fate would befall him now.

After one long, stagnant moment where the teacher did nothing but stare down at his pupil, Mr. Matsumoto leaned over, bowing deeply to his opponent. As he slowly straightened back out, he uttered two horrific words: "Defend yourself."

But before anyone of Sora's brain capacity could even process those words, he found himself caught in the middle of a guillotine head lock, unable to breath, squirming and writhing in hopes of breaking free. We all watched with impatience, screaming orders at the boy in our heads. 'Tap. Tap!'

Finally, our brain waves reached him, and he slapped his thigh repeatedly. Mr. Matsumoto released him, backing up just to resume glaring. Then, he took another low bow, and dismissed the boy. Sora just stood there, breathing heavily for a moment, before he hastily bowed and dashed back to his seat. Had this act come at a complete shock to us, we would have turned and stared. But then again, it's not like it had never happened before ...

"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted --" Had I blinked, I would have missed Mr. Matsumoto's eyes darting in Sora's direction. "-- it goes without saying that I have high expectations for this class. You are eighth graders, now." He paused, as if to let us catch up, before continuing with slow, intense words. "I expect maturity and nothing short of perfection."

I gulped, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one to swallow hard. Mr. Matsumoto was normally a calm, reserved person -- who packed a painful punch, though -- and we had never heard him speak in such a tone. It was almost as if he was angry, furious, and was struggling to contain his emotions. 'Sora couldn't have upset him that much, could he?'

Mr. Matsumoto's gaze shifted slowly from side to side, passing back and forth along the rows and down the columns, locking eyes with each and every one of us at least once, and I felt strangely uncomfortable. He was serious, that much was obvious ... but what else was he trying to get through to us?

I guessed he could sense our uneasiness, because then he smirked. "Is that too much to handle?"

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I left Geometry, my last class of the day, in a rather sour mood.

I had realized in Karate that Mr. Matsumoto's beginning-of-the-year speech was the first I had really listened to all day, and considering it left me with a feeling that was a mixture of fear, confusion, and nausea, I came to the conclusion that these speeches were actually of some importance. Then, as I made my way from the karate portable back to the main building, accompanied by Rikku and Yuna, I decided that I would pay attention in the next class.

However ...

Sora, Riku, and Wakka made listening to Mr. Landry's speech quite impossible. It was bad enough that I had been assigned to the seat in between these three -- who were notorious for being extremely irritating when they got together, by the way -- but to make matters worse, Wakka decided he just had to poke me with his writing utensil to ask for a pencil, just to have me explain to him that he had just disturbed me with one and to please not do it again because I was trying to listen. Then, on top of that, he and Sora talked non-stop the entire period. Riku, though he didn't bother me, didn't try to stop them, and even joined in on the talking at points ... and I was irritable already.

Riku ... he was a nice guy, really. He was good at everything, too ... a star athlete, intelligent, a ladies man ... Sometimes I wished I could have fallen for a guy like him.

Wakka ... he was another one of those people I didn't understand ... and taking into account his heavy jamaican accent, at times, that was literal.

But enough about that.

I was not in a good mood.

I had tried to put up with the stress of the first day of school, and had failed miserably.

'Stupid school.'

I felt like kicking something.

"Hey, Namine!"

I looked up to see Yuna across the hall, leaning against the row of lockers, waving at me. The one she stood next to was wide open, and she was skillfully balancing her backpack on one knee while stuffing it with books. Shifting my own bag higher up on my back, I made my way over to her, a task I found surprisingly easy, for most of the students had cleared out of the building already. Once I reached her, I let my bag slide off of my shoulder and onto the floor, allowing me to press my back against the cold metal of the closed lockers adjacent to Yuna's. I crossed one foot over the other and folded my arms, a position that expressed my foul mood.

Yuna could tell something was up, and she momentarily dropped her backpack onto the ground, turning to me. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Everything."

"Aw, it can't be that bad, can it?"

"On the contrary, Yuna," I said, switching my supporting foot, "it can."

She put her weight on one foot and placed her fists on her hips. She was staring at me -- an intense, knowing stare -- and I looked down. I anticipated the next question. "Is this about Sora again?"

I rolled my eyes and let my hands drop into fists at my sides. "Why does no one believe I'm over him?" I asked, turning to Yuna and demanding an answer out of her.

"I didn't say anthing about you being over him, now did I?" Yuna's voice was strangely harsh. I hadn't heard a tone like that from her since ... well, in quite some time.

I felt the urge to say something unbelievable in a great comeback, but no words would come. She was right, afterall. I had jumped to conclusions ... as I often did. It was one of my annoying habits. My gaze shifted down as I admitted defeat, but my head did not drop.

She relaxed. "But it is about Sora, isn't it?"

I sighed. It went without saying that he made me miserable. Yuna knew it.

"Namine," she began, a sympathetic tone about her voice, "I know we've all been through some hard times together, and you, especially, have had it rough, but it's time to move on. You have so much to look forward to."

'Not really.' Or at least I didn't think so at the time, but I didn't bother correcting her. "I know, but --"

It was then that I noticed someone kneeling down just beyond her open locker, fumbling with their own books, their face hidden by the open metal door. I paused, ignoring Yuna to stare at this mystery person. Then, whoever it was slammed their locker closed, stood up, swinging their backpack over their shoulder, and coming into full view. Yuna looked at me quizzically as my eyes grew wide, and then she turned to face the object of my attention, as well.

It was him.

And this time, I could see his face.

He looked ... sad, somehow, or lonely ... I'm not quite sure, for I had never seen an expression quite like his before. He looked calm, but focused, and his gaze did not wander. His eyes were a deep, azure blue, a captivating color, and were a stark contrast to his pale skin. He was handsome, sure, but I knew that I had never seen his face before.

Yet, for some reason, he looked strangely familiar.

And as I watched him, following him with my eyes to his destination, it became clear why.

He stopped right in front of Sora, and the two began talking, their mouths moving more quickly than normal, and I could not make out their words. It was almost as if they were speaking to each other in a different language, voices hushed to conceal a secret. It was ... interesting, how they communicated, but that wasn't why I was so shocked.

"Yuna ... he looks so much like Sora ..."

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Author's Note: Yeah! Another chapter down! Sorry that it took me a while to update ... I had a major project to work on in Global, which is English and History combined, for those of you who have never heard of it. I don't know if they offer classes like that outside of here ... I had never heard of it myself until last year.

Rambling again ... so sorry ...

I will post another chapter as soon as I can, but I may be struggling to get it written. I love to write these stories, I really do, but school gets in the way, you know. I'll work on it every chance I get ... You know, right now I'm not even supposed to be on the computer. I'm grounded from it for whatever reason ... I think my parents were just angry and decided to take it out on me but no matter! It's only for a day.

Once I get a bit more into this story, I'll take up writing oneshots again. I want to vary my pairings, and so I'm going to experiment ... through oneshots.

Thanks so much to the people who actually reviewed. Reviews are important ... and it bugs me when I get a ton of hits and barely any reviews ... though I guess I am a bit of a hypocrite, when it comes to that. Still, reviews are very much appreciated, whether they are good or not. Don't think that just because you have nothing good to say about it that you can't leave a review. Anything is welcome, because outside opinions seriously do ease the writing process. So please review! I'll give you chocolate muffins if you do!

xxo0oxx

Next Chapter: He was kin to the enemy, but I wondered ... did that make him the enemy, too?

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