Whoa. Chapter Three. I've never had such a long-running story yet!

Man, it's just so hard to get description in, though. But, I have to say, I'm glad I'm revising some parts, because it makes the story longer, and it's not so awkward to read with just point after point after point being made. Plus, I think it makes the situations more amusing this way. (Plus, I think I'm doing okay in adding body language, and thanks xsynthetic-smile for your tip in your first review. It gave me guidelines on how to better work this, and it does make the story better, in my opinion).

As for the anticlimactic thing...-sigh- still going nowhere, and won't go anywhere. You'll just have to sit through a boring bus ride with two characters hating one another. Still, I protest that that makes it more realistic, because (minusing the hate-on-hate relationship focused here) nothing really happens on a bus ride. This one is at least a little crazy to subtract the boredom a tad.

And thanks for all the reviews. Really, I'm astounded at the success. Thanks for all the feedback!

Well, all this being said, you'd probably just rather read and ignore me. So go ahead! (But don't forget to review).

Disclaimer: I love it, I write it, I obsess over it, but I do not own it. How sad, how cruel, how utterly depressing for me.

Hour Three – Eleven a.m.

"Leather."

He leaned back, reaching his arms over his head and stretching, taking his time. She saw so, too, because her eyes flicked to him irritably, and she made a sound that clearly expressed her annoyance, no words needed. Eyes shut, he grinned and felt content, and let another moment pass before he settled comfortably against the seat.

Turning his attention to her, he smiled. "Where were we?"

Her mouth twitched. "Lea-ther," she growled.

"Fine." He yawned once, covering his mouth, and when he lowered his hand to his lap he looked to her again. "Couch."

"Like that was so hard," she grumbled in impatience, making him grin. "House."

He shrugged, however, and that just made her bristle further. Of course, he had to wonder why he was provoking her temper so.

He had to say, though, he enjoyed the way her eyes twinkled so brightly when she was enraged. No matter the fact that it was because she couldn't stand him that that was so, she just looked so...pretty. He shifted foolishly then, cheeks prickling at the thought, and he turned his head aside, deciding that those thoughts were best left alone.

He would think no more of how pretty Kairi's eyes were.

"Roof," he said softly, shifting again. He was getting uncomfortable.

She snorted softly, as if his discomfort were completely uncalled for. That, at least, settled him some. He turned back to her, rolling his eyes.

She glared back. "Tile."

"Floor," he challenged.

"Cube."

"Cube?" He looked at her for a moment, and then shrugged. "Ice."

"Cool."

He smirked. "Zimbabwe."

She looked at him, dumbstruck. She blinked once, twice, and stared at him, so long that his grin faltered slightly. And he was just about to snap at her impatiently when she exclaimed, "Zimbabwe? Sora, are you kidding me? How do you get Zimbabwe out of cool?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "No idea. But I think Zimbabwe's such a cool name, so---"

"I mean, the climate's not even cool."

He smiled easily, leaning back and looking at her with his arms crossed over his chest. "Kairi, you just can't handle the full potential of my mind."

"Or lack thereof," she shot back.

"Ch," he grumbled, lowering his arms and shaking his head. "Fine, we'll start a new game, since you obviously aren't gonna accept this."

"It's word associations, Sora. And cool and Zimbabwe don't associate with each other. There's no way."

"New game then!" he said, raising his voice in irritation.

"Fine," she muttered, and looked out the window. "I spy?"

He groaned. "Oh come on. That's such a kid's game."

"Then you should love it," she retorted.

"Oh. Nice one."

She sneered back.

His eyes wandered to the window. "I'd suggest a game involving license plates, but you already tried to push me off my seat for moving too close, when all I wanted to do was get a glimpse outside. So I say we don't even try."

She narrowed her eyes. "You were in my personal space."

He smirked at her. "What are we, twelve?" He held up his hands. "No, wait. Sorry. I didn't respect your personal bubble."

She growled softly, and he smirked confidently at her. Oh, how he did love to mess with her.

Finally, she rolled her eyes and turned from him. "How about categories?" she asked sharply.

He arched an eyebrow. "Categories?"

"Yeah. We pick a common theme, and then the first one to not be able to list an example, or accidentally repeats one, loses." She waved her hand, as if the concept was so simple.

And…it was, he guessed.

He shrugged. "Sounds good."

"Good. I'll pick the category."

"Of course."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He rolled his eyes. "Nothing, Princess."

"Do you want to pick a category?"

"No, no. By all means, you pick one."

"God," she muttered, and he smirked. "Fine. How about…colors?"

He shrugged. "Fine. You first."

She nodded her head, satisfied with that. "All right…orange."

He shrugged. This was easy enough. "Yellow."

"Green."

He raised an eyebrow at her. She didn't even take her time. She just blurted them out, the words flowing easily off her tongue. He shook his head in pity. That didn't make a game fun, in his opinion. If you knew exactly what you were going to say, exactly before you were going to say it, where was the pleasure in scraping away with a victory in just the last second? Answer: there was none.

No. He enjoyed taking his time, and facing a challenge. And that's why facing Kairi was so amusing. She was the epitome of challenge.

And super fun to rile up, at that.

"Blue."

"Purple."

"Red."

"Pink."

"White." He started, and then forced his eyes away from her. He'd just realized that all the colors he'd named had come from him staring at her. His cheeks prickled again, and he narrowed his eyes in frustration.

"Black."

He thought for a second, gazing at the worn fabric of the cushion before him. Some jerk had written swear words all over the seat.

Really, people were so rude. "Maroon."

"Topaz."

He stared at her, arching his brow at how odd the colors were getting, and then shook his head. "Gold."

"Silver."

"Jesus," he muttered. There was no limit to her knowledge of color. Another thing that was so irritating about her.

She was such a goody-goody perfectionist. Why couldn't she let up a little?

Grunting, he looked further away from her, unable to not feel guilt at his inner musings. "Umm…" he murmured, "brown."

"Tan."

"Stupid. So many stupid variations," he grumbled bitterly. "Uhh….lavender."

She giggled, but he shot her a look. "Violet."

"Periwinkle."

She giggled again, and he narrowed his eyes. "You come up with so many sissy colors."

"I do not!" he argued in frustration.

She smirked. "Sure." There was a sudden tapping, and Sora's eyes were drawn to her fingertips drumming on the window ledge. He moved his eyes to her face, and saw her biting her lip, eyes staring off into space. So, she was thinking hard now. He'd never really seen her have to consider her options before.

Kairi had always known what she was going to do with herself. She was always prepared. And she was never surprised.

He never understood how people could live that way. Wasn't the pressure unbelievable?

"Magenta."

He started, caught off guard as he'd been so deep in thought. "I'm sorry?"

She sighed, impatient. "Magenta," she repeated, looking exasperated.

He rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose at her. "No need to be so touchy." She opened her mouth to shout at him. "Beige."

The tapping became more insistent, now a sign of annoyance. "Teal," she spat.

He shrugged. "Copper."

"Pulled that one out of thin air, didn'cha?" she asked, former irritation actually giving way to amusement. He couldn't help but smile, if only momentarily. "Gray."

"Dammit, should'a thought of that one." He looked the ceiling. "Um…uh…navy blue."

"Nice save," she said, smirking.

"You enjoy this.

"Yes I do." Then she clasped her hands and looked thoughtful. "Mauve."

"What the hell? Mauve?" He shook his head. "What is that, anyway? Mauve." He rolled his eyes. "Uh…lime green."

"What's with all these two word colors?"

"They're still colors," he replied indignantly.

"Seems like you're getting kind of desperate, if you ask me."

"I didn't. And I'm not," he grumbled. "Now name a color."

"Fine. Salmon."

"That's a fish."

"It's a color, too, moron."

"Fine. Sand."

"Hmph. Well, since you're so set on two word colors, how about sky blue?"

"Ch. Sea green."

"Laser yellow."

"Hot pink."

She smirked at him. "A favorite of yours?"

"No."

"Peach."

Maybe his frustration with her picking fun at him was obstructing his thought, for he found that he was slowly running out of colors. He wouldn't lose to her, though. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction that she'd outdone him.

Again.

As she always had before. Outshining him in school, in personality, as an overall person. His eyes narrowed, and he stared long at the ceiling, jostled every so often as their ride hit a bump in the road.

He was always so…jealous of her.

"Give up yet?"

He snapped to at the arrogant, though sarcastic, drone of her voice, and turned his eyes to her. It took several seconds before the question registered in his mind, and then he shook himself. "Um…no," he replied, scratching the back of his head. He was still slightly out if it. "Uh…orchid."

She snorted, just the right notion to fire up his temper again. He didn't understand it. Every try he made to act civilized in her presence, every attempt he underwent to try to control his temper around her, always failed.

She made him crazy, in so many ways.

And she was still smirking. "You pick the most girly colors."

"Name…another…color," he said through gritted teeth.

"Ivory."

He grinned. "Ebony."

"Ooh, clever," she said dryly. "Mahogany."

"Lime."

"Burnt sienna."

He stared at her. "What?"

She shrugged. "Saw it on a crayon."

He sighed. "On a crayon."

"Yes. Is that so hard to believe?"

He glanced at her dryly. "No."

"Good. Now shut up and carry on."

He mock-bowed. "Your wish is my command, Princess."

Her brow furrowed in distaste. "You---"

"Indigo," he said in haste, grinning.

She stared at him, eyes narrowed and flashing, but at last she turned her head in distaste, dismissing him completely. And she thought the nickname Princess didn't suit her.

"Crimson," she said tersely.

"Lilac."

She smirked. "Rose."

"Crap," he muttered. "Um…forest green."

"Cobalt blue."

"Umm…" He ran a hand through his hair, at the end of his rope. "Uh…um…puce."

"Turquoise."

"What is wrong with you? You're like a machine!"

"Give up?" she asked, smirking.

"Yes, I give up. God." Extremely irritated, he crossed his arms over his chest and slouched in his seat. "Stupid game, anyway," he muttered.

He was lucky, he guessed, that she didn't hear that little comment, or at least chose to ignore it. It saved him from another hot-tempered arguement he didn't have the energy for just yet.

"I'm impressed, though. You held your own for a long time."

"Ch. You just hate to lose, don't you? It's impossible for you, anyway."

"Oh, I'm touched."

Sora checked his watch. "Well, that lasted a good amount of time."

"Not long enough, though."

"You're telling me."

Sighing, he let his arm fall into his lap and fell back against the seat, closing his eyes. As long as that intense category game lasted, it still did nothing for the four-and-a-quarter ride still to go. Sure, there was lunch, but then they were back on the road, another long expanse of time where they had to sit awkwardly next to each other and try to be civil.

Well, he did okay, he thought, but he was sure Kairi still wanted to kill him.

He turned his head at the thought of his companion and watched as she leaned into the window, closing her eyes and cooling her forehead on the glass. More hair from her bun was slipping out, and he wondered why she just didn't wear her hair down, because he liked it that way. But then again, it wasn't his business, she'd kill him for saying so, and he wasn't supposed to be thinking like that.

They were nothing to each other.

"Bored?"

"No. I'm having a blast."

"The cars are pretty exciting."

"Sora, do you even realize we've been off the highway for a while?"

"No, but now I do."

She sighed, eyes flicking up to the sky and then back to the road. "Too bad that game didn't last."

"No sense in playing another one just yet. Besides, my brain hurts."

"I don't doubt that."

"You know, you're cruel."

She looked over to him, face surprisingly passive. But, no matter what appearance she was trying to give, her eyes betrayed her real emotions, and he winced slightly. He knew that look, and felt guilty for it. She was so…hurt. And his heart skipped a beat in his chest, making him struggle to find any words to say. He lowered his eyes.

Really, it had just slipped out. He hadn't tried to say anything that would hurt her feelings, honestly he hadn't. It was just one of those things said without thinking first. It was insincere, a spur-of-the-moment comment.

He groaned softly, so she wouldn't hear. It seemed he was doing a lot of things without thinking these days.

Her eyes were searching him as he hesitantly looked back to her again, the passiveness in her features shifting slightly as a self-conscious worry gave way, and to hide it she sighed and looked back out the window, shrugging. To her, the matter was dismissed. That was her way.

He wanted to go about it differently, however.

And he was getting ready to say something when she murmured, "I guess I am."

"Well, with me at least," he covered quickly, instantly forgetting what he'd really wanted to tell her. Though, he shouldn't be trying to make her feel better. He should just leave it, not complicate everything. "But you're nice to everyone else, I bet. I mean, with Riku and Naminé and every---"

"Sora, don't even bother. I don't know why you do, anyway."

"Me neither." It was the honest truth. He didn't know why he suddenly cared about her feelings. But she seemed helpless, and he didn't want her to be. Kairi was always so strong, and he was comfortable around that part of her. He didn't feel guilt around that part of her. "But I didn't mean it."

"Yes you did."

"Well, I meant it only concerning me."

"Hmm…"

At a loss, Sora just sat back and stared at the faded gray of the seat in front of him. The magazines offered in the pouch in the seat's back didn't capture his interest, and the sights of the bus no longer held his attention. So, he settled on staring at the designs of the chair in front of him, drumming his fingers on his knee all the while.

Every so often, though, he worriedly shot her a glance.

But why, he thought, couldn't he pretend to hate her anymore?

-covers head with arms defensively- Don't hate me for this chapter!

Hmph. The games made it difficult for description.

But, heh, I loved the games. (How else do you pass long expanses of time on a bus ride? Games, for one!) Of course, I can't credit myself to it completely. My friend Rachael and I do the word associations on AIM when we're bored, and everything and anything can go along with that, as long as the words are connected in some way. It's really fun, and chases away awkward moments when you have no idea of what to talk about.

And my friend Mander helped me with all the colors. -grin- Plus I went online, too, but not before I randomly IM'd her about color names. I do that, sometimes; just bring up random subjects. It's quite fun.

So thanks, you two! (If you ever read this)

Okay, getting further on with this story, and loving every single moment. Thanks SOOOOO much (Yeah. That much) for all your reviews and support. It means so much to me.

Ooh, and Hour Four (next chapter) I especially like. Not saying you will, but I'm looking forward to posting it. However, that doesn't mean it's going up any quicker. -evil grin-

I'm lovin' this story! Are you?