The Human Need Chapter 3, a kingdom hearts fanfic

-1Title: The Human Need

Music: Snowflake - Mew

Rating: M
Warning: ANGST and YAOI

Disclaimer: I don't own KH or FF, but I do own a snazzy painting set and Photoshop.

Pairing: CloudXRiku

The Human Need

Chapter 3

I went to class the next day. Not only that, but I couldn't help but eat one of the packages of Ramen that Cloud had stuck in the box. Normally I wouldn't even consider eating in the mornings….but it looked so good, even if it was just sitting there, doing nothing.

As if that weren't enough though, my mood rose a bit as well. Don't ask me why, but it felt as if some kind of weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. It was a momentary, short-lived peace, but it was a rejuvenating one. I worked at my daily tasks with renewed vigor, something that both my professors and Sora were relieved for.

I suppose it could be blamed on Cloud. Though there was no specific reason why. For the first time in months I had had a decent night's sleep after meeting with the older man. Not to mention that he had gotten me eating again. It could have been a freak thing, but something in my brain just drew a line from the sudden overwhelming calm in me to that quiet, blonde haired man in the art room. Even thinking about it made me feel like I needed to see him again, just to see if this was really coming from him.

This calm that I was feeling was a new experience, a complete 180 from my normal, emotion filled life. I was used to feeling hard edge, extreme emotions: anger, hatred, depression, passion, sadness, but never had I felt something so empty. Like some sort of void had appeared where my heart was, sucking all the emotions out of me. It was peaceful yes, but also disturbing in the most horrible of ways. Without knowing what exactly was causing me to feel this way, calm led to paranoia, which eventually trampled back into the smooth sense of emptiness, as if even that emotion had lost its way.

So I counted down the days in piles of missed homework, rapidly growing piles of empty ramen cups, and scrapped sketchbooks. Wednesday could not come fast enough as I searched desperately for this continuing emotion that made my stomach clench, but not as badly as the other emotions did. It was like some sort of alien presence in my gut, dissecting me from the inside out.

When I finally did get done with my last class, and night was just around the corner, I grabbed my bag and hurried down to the art room. When I arrived it was already twilight outside, and the janitor was still cleaning inside. Cloud too, was already there, his back to me, one of the dirty supply smocks tied around him. His hair seemed mussed up, and his posture wasn't so straight. He looked tired.

I walked over and sat down behind him, waiting until he was finished with whatever he was doing so we could talk. I wanted to ask him about that feeling in my gut, as well as discuss what was going to happen with my canvas. The questions were burned onto my tongue, but I would wait.

After another fifteen minutes the janitor departed and Cloud and I were left alone. No sooner had the door slammed shut then the blonde haired man turned to face me. Those cobalt eyes washed over me, and suddenly that empty calm was gone. I blinked in response, and he nodded, turning once more to his work.

Unsure of what was happening, and disliking the noisy silence, I edged my way up to look over his shoulder. He had a mirror on the stand in front of him, and had been busy painting thick black stripes straight down the reflective surface. As I watched, he carefully drug the large, foam brush down its surface once more. From the angle I was at, it looked almost like prison bars, with my reflection trapped beneath. The effect was almost disturbing, yet at the same time interesting.

I recoiled as Cloud turned away, satisfied with his work. He yanked the strings of his smock apart and threw the dirty piece of cloth onto a nearby table. Then he turned back to look at me, and I froze.

"Hey…" Cloud said softly, brushing past me to go to the sink. He turned the water on, tested it, and began washing his brushes out. "You actually came, I wasn't so sure with how quickly you left…"

I watched, mesmerized by the rhythmic rubbing motion he was making as he washed the cheap foam of the brush. Black paint drizzled off it, thinned by the water and running like a grayish waterfall. I simply nodded to show I was listening.

Cloud sighed and finished washing the brushes out before dumping them in their bucket on the side of the sink. He then leaned against the sink, examining me more. "I suppose you are just going to growl at me, and ask for your canvas back, am I right?"

I looked down, slightly ashamed that he knew the very thoughts in my mind, though, after my previous behavior, it wouldn't be hard to figure out.

"I thought so….tell me, Riku, look into that mirror I just painted, and tell me what you see."

I looked back up, unsure of what he was saying. It took a moment, but eventually I turned to look at the mirror, my eyes traveling to the thick bars of paint first, then slowly to the image behind them.

I saw what I had seen before, my image stuck behind large, iron bars, imprisoned within the artwork itself. I relayed this information to Cloud at his urgings, and he shook his head slightly, as if contemplating something.

I grew impatient as I watched his face contort in thought. Although it was an interesting sight, it was not what I had come here for. "Are you going to do something?" I asked. "Or just sit there and think?"

Cracking his neck, loud walked past me and over to one of the cabinets located in various spots in the art room. He pulled out a key and opened it, revealing stacks of various supplies….and my canvas.

He pulled my canvas out and looked it over, then turned and handed it to me. "Here…" he said. "You wanted this back…"

I reached out to grab it, but he pulled back at the last second, leaving me stranded in the air. When I glared, he simply shook his head, and walked past me, placing the canvas on an easel next to the mirror. "Over here…"

I walked over to him, still wary that he was going to do something with my canvas. But he didn't, he just stepped backward to give me some room and crossed his arms.

"Is that it?" I asked. "You're just going to leave me here?"

"I want you to paint." I was about to object, but Cloud held his hand up and motioned to the mirror. "Paint what you feel. I don't care what you see, but stare at the mirror, and paint what you feel….Without the music."

The last part was directed at me as I raised my earphones. I paused, staring at Cloud as if her were a madman. "But…" I started. "I can't paint without any music."

"Yes you can…" he replied. "Just stare at the mirror, and do what feels natural. Paint your emotions, not the emotions programmed into you by that crap you call music."

I opened my mouth to argue, but then felt better of it. Cloud didn't seem like the arguing type, and his expression was not only one of seriousness, but of complete exhaustion. For the first time, I noticed the dark rings under his eyes. Had they been there before? I didn't know. I had always been to busy staring at the bright blue of the eye itself.

After a short staring contest, I turned to look at the mirror, and then the blank canvas before me. I closed my eyes for a minute, recalling a song, any song, to get me through this.

How cruel,

Is the golden rule?

When the lives we live

are only golden plated…

Fall Out Boy. It fit my mood perfectly like a glove. Strange that the first song I should think of would meld so perfectly into my own emotions.

Keeping that song fixed in my mind, I grabbed one of the unused brushes Cloud had left on the table and stuck it in my mouth, then picked up another brush to paint with. Idly I looked up at the mirror, not at all disturbed by the picture of Cloud watching from behind my shoulder.

The first stroke of the brush came down strong and thick, a solid black line as thick as my thumb. My teeth clenched, digging into wood, and I continued laying down thick line after thick line, until I had the basic shape of a human eyeball on the canvas. I grabbed another brush, to change colors, when I happened to look up and see Cloud in the mirror, close to me, practically on top of me.

I jumped when his hands touched my shoulders, almost dropping the brush clamped between my teeth. I tried to turn around, but he had a firm grip on me, not allowing me to move.

"What the hell?" I grumbled, though I doubt he understood me with a mouth full of wood. Instead of responding, he began kneading my shoulders with his hands, a feeling I found both slightly painful, and strangely relaxing. I felt my body go from stiff as a board, to soft like putty between those skilled fingers. His thumbs pressed into s spot that made my whole neck relax. Damn it felt good.

"Calm down…" he said, after I had completely relaxed in his hands. "You're tense…and tense doesn't work. Just, look at the mirror and paint what you feel, not what you think you should paint. Stop thinking so concrete, and let it go."

His words were calming, and surprisingly, I listened. The lyrics of the song faded back under his occasional calm urgings, and I began painting in large strokes in a variety of red colors, some soft and muted, others bold and saturated. Black somehow found it's way into the mix, and soon I had large, spiked streaks across the canvas. All the while Cloud was whispering to me, and softly kneading my shoulders.

My mind blanked out at some point, better than my music had ever done. Concentration left in a steady flow, and after a while, I found myself running a dry brush randomly over the surface, the wet paint spreading and thinning out. If I had been paying attention, I would have been painting in a certain shape, but I was in such a dream like state, that I didn't even notice as Cloud slowly reached out and took the brush from me.

It didn't take long however, to realize there was no more pressure on my shoulders. I came out of my daze slowly, and stared at the canvas in front of me. It was a mass of blacks and reds, all spiked sharply and running upwards. Yellow was splashed across the bottom, and I realized that the random lines somehow, faintly resembled flames.

"What….the hell?" I stammered. This was not what I painted. I painted humans, animals, landscapes, fruit…not this abstract stuff. And…why flames? Of all theng why the hell did I paint flames?

I glanced up at the mirror once more, and with horror, I saw a flicker of red behind me. Whirling, I stared at the air behind me. There was nothing there but Cloud, cleaning out my brush in the sink behind me.

Slowly I turned back. The flicker of red was gone, but for some reason, my eyes were drawn to the lines in my face, the places where the skin was pulled tight from being too thin, the poor state of my hair, the dullness in my eyes. For some odd reason…I looked old.

I shook my head and turned away. I was beginning to hallucinate. Worriedly I wondered if Cloud had slipped me some kind of drug without me knowing. It was possible….

Another glance at the mirror and still I could see pain and weariness etched into my own face. It wasn't a hallucination. It was real, I seriously looked like that. The thick black bars only enhanced the dark look.

As I was staring at the black paint, a flash of red flickered in the corner of my eye. I turned to look again, but nothing. I shivered. This was like…some sort of creepy ghost story.

"Riku…" I jumped. "Sorry…Are you alright?…That painting looks a bit angry."

I gawked, staring at the reflection of Cloud How could he be so calm when I was being haunted? Couldn't he see it? That flash of red just beyond my eyesight. That blood red stain that flitted away, teasing me! Why didn't he say anything? He had to have seen it!

"The red…" I murmured. He only cocked his head, then shook it slowly.

"Yeah, I noticed. That's why it looks angry. Red is the color of passion you know. Love and hatred are both colored that, as well as anger and lust. It's an extreme color, for extreme emotions. The color of madness."

"Madness?" I asked, my knees feeling weak. What was wrong with me? Why the hell was I even here? Why was I talking to this man, this bastard anyways? Why did I bother to come out of my room, come out of my safety, come out of everything, just to see him? All he did was toy with my emotions…make me slip farther and farther into doubt and hatred. Yes, that was it, I hated him. I hated this man, this Cloud.

Cloud's eyes softened. "Blood. It's the color of blood, Riku. You know that? It's a precious color."

My pulse quickened at his words, though I didn't know why. I could suddenly picture something, something I had thought buried. A boy, pinned to the floor beneath a beam of wood. There was so much red. So much red. So much….so much

"Blood," Cloud said. "It's a sad color, red, but still a pleasing one." He turned slowly, and must have seen the mortified look on my face, because he frowned. "Riku?….are you ok?"

Something sticky beneath my hands, the intense heat. I could only see red. Red of his hair, red of his shirt, red blood, red flames, red hair, red shirt, red blood, red flames, red hair, red shirt, red blood, red flames, red hair, red shirt, red blood, red flames, red hair, red shirt, red blood, red flames, red hair, red shirt, red blood, red flames, hair, shirt, blood, flames, hair, shirt, blood, flames, hair, shirt, blood, flames, hair

shirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirt

Bloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtblood

Flameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtbloodflameshairshirtblood

flameshairshirtbloodflames…

"Snap out of it!"

My mind cleared, and suddenly I was no longer burning. I could no longer feel the pain in my leg, or feel the blood on my hand. I could no longer see much of anything , because I was staring at the damn mirror, and all I could see was red.

There was a crash, followed by a curse and pain in my hand and arm. My vision cleared, and I saw Cloud holding my arm in a tight grip, staring at me with this look of utter confusion on his face. Blood trickled from my knuckles, where a piece of glass was still embedded in them. I blinked, and noticed that there was no longer a mirror sitting there, but a pile of broken glass laying shattered on the ground.

Cloud's hand released my arm, but I didn't move. I stood frozen, confused and hurt. What had just happened? What had I done? Cloud didn't even have time to say anything. I just turned and ran, leaving him back there with my canvas and the mirror.

The bars were broken, and now my canvas was stained with blood.

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Sorry for all the spelling and grammar mistakes, this was written late at night and I didn't have time to edit it…or to do much else for that matter. Speaking of which…is anyone interested in beta-ing my stories? I have a hard time editing my own work, and I often times don't catch little thing such as spelling or repeated words. Don't know why I can't do it with my own writing, because I beta my friend's stories just fine….

Oh well, the job is open if anyone wants it, though I doubt it.

School has been a bit better. I lose Photoshop on Friday…so that means no more happy funness T-T Oh well. It was good while it lasted.

Anyone notice me getting a little too phycological in this chapter? I didn't mean to, seriously, I was just going to have Riku freak out about the touching thing…but when you're writing at 1 in the morning, sometimes you have to go with your gut. Well, my gut went crazy, and added an extra 2 pages onto my original plan, but I like where this is going. Yay me for never having a real plot line! Gotta love that….Well, I hope to update soon, plus I have 2 gift fics to write! So expect a lot from me soon.

To my reviewers, who are special because, unlike the other 300 people to view this story, they actually decided to be nice and tell me what they thought of it:

Riku-Rocks: Thanks…I was a bit worried I was rushing the pace at first, but you make me think otherwise XD I really hope I can keep up with the mood and all…..already I've deviated from the original speech pattern and such…but hey, I'm trying.

ChibiFrubaGirl: Yes, we love our angst Riku don't we? And I've been getting a lot of comments on Cloud's character…is he really that mysterious? Oo'….Well, I suppose he is isn't he? Gotta love him. XD

Porygon181: Yes, evil Cloud, he's so evil it's not even funny XD Poor Riku is so screwed up right now he doesn't even know what he's thinking. Oh well, he'll have to get over it, because he and Cloud need to get together, though I'm not sure if I'm going to have any really hard man sex in here, more fluff than anything, and there is a reason for that, but I'm not telling XD. But you never know! It might change, my story plot changes with every new chapter, so…I just go with it.

Jeiku: Yeah, I know what you mean, a lot of AU are a little tooAU for my tastes. If you know what I mean. I like angst, and I like fluffy and WAFF, but I don't really like extreme changes to the original characters (no, I don't count my angst Riku as extreme) or over-emotional pieces. I like natural, unexaggerated (ok maybe I'm contradicting myself here) fics that are well written and stay pretty close to home as far as character and such go. But, well….I should shut up now. Thanks for the four thumbs.

Anonymous: Here is the next chapter: )

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THANKS FOR READING, NOW REVIEW, OR I KILL CHARACTERS TILL YOU AGREE.