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Chapter 2

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The walk back from school wasn't a long one, but Sora, Kairi, and Riku had a habit of taking the long way home just to stroll past the beach. Destiny Island had dozens of beautiful beaches open to the public, but that one particular beach — the one near the old fishing dock — was known as theirs. During the summer months, it was rare to find one of them off the warm sand or out of the crystal-clear water. They'd wake up with the sun, pack their bags, and meet up at the beach where they'd stay until it was too dark to see anymore. The trio had shared so many special moments on that beach. They played games, they told stories, they shared their fears, they confided in their secrets, they laughed, and they cried.

That beach was magical.

Sometimes they'd take a detour on their walk back home just to enjoy the crisp sea breeze for a few moments, but it didn't feel right without Riku by their side. The older boy was caught up at track practice, which wasn't an uncommon turn of events, and so Sora and Kairi took the trip home by themselves.

"Kairi, truth or dare?" Sora asked as they strolled down the sandy path by the beach, his hands resting behind his head.

The girl side-eyed her friend with playful suspicion. "Truth."

"Who do you wish would be your date to the debutante ball thing?"

She rolled her twinkly eyes good-naturedly. "I have absolutely no idea."

"C'mon!" Sora persisted. "I bet you know tons of guys on the Island who are… y'know, high society or whatever."

Kairi's smile turned a bit more pensive as she looked out over the rolling waves of the ocean coming and going from the shore. "I'd convince my mother that I'm involved in a polygamous relationship and take both you and Riku as my dates."

The boy erupted with laughter. "Yeah, if your parents don't murder me in my sleep first."

Her own bell-like giggle fell past her lips, beaming with mirth. "Now it's your turn — truth or dare?"

"Dare," he declared instantly after hardly any thought.

Kairi hummed in contemplation, her narrowed eyes glancing around for inspiration. After all their years of friendship, she had never witnessed Sora turning down a dare, no matter how impossible the task at hand might've seemed. And so Kairi often took it upon herself to invent the most ridiculous dares she could ever imagine, just to see how far the game could go before her fearless friend started squirming. It wasn't until her gaze traveled upward that she found an appropriate target.

"I dare you to get that paopu fruit down from that tree," she pointed up at the fruit in question.

Sora's eyes followed the direction of her finger and, sure enough, a vibrant paopu fruit hung from the treetop, many feet up into the air. The boy's expression dropped at the sight, but before Kairi could start celebrating her victory, he shook off his nerves and straightened his spine.

"You're on!" He called out, tossing his backpack to the wayside and marching toward the palm tree. Kairi quickly reached out a hand to stop him, but he was already starting his climb up the skinny trunk.

"Sora, I was kidding," she explained desperately. "You're gonna hurt yourself!"

"You shouldn't have dared me, then," said Sora. He clung tightly to the tree trunk, frantically trying to scoot himself closer to the fruit. "Besides, have a little faith, Kairi."

The girl's concerned gaze was still fixed on her friend. "I have plenty of faith, but that palm tree looks like it might have other plans."

Sora's laugh filled the salty sea air. Turning down a challenge, regardless of how dangerous it might be, just wasn't in his nature. Although his tendency to act before thinking made for some fun adventures, it also seemed to get him into trouble more often than not. Riku would often indulge in Sora's antics, turning the scenario into some kind of competition between the two boys, leaving Kairi to carry the burden of common sense — even though she found it rather entertaining to watch as her two friends battled for the upper hand.

"What are you gonna do with the paopu, anyway?" Sora wondered aloud, his voice distant as he shimmied higher up the trunk.

Kairi sighed with mock indecision. "Oh, I don't know… Probably share it with someone."

Sora hesitated before grappling for support with his right foot. "Share it?"

"Yeah, you know, that old legend," she said calmly, not failing to notice how much Sora was beginning to struggle with his climb. "If you share a paopu fruit with someone special, then your destinies become intertwined forever. Pretty romantic, don't you think?"

"Well," Sora huffed. "Who are you gonna share it with?"

Kairi grinned innocently, although the teasing gesture escaped Sora's attention. "My date to the ball, of course."

"What? Kairi, you —"

The next thing they both heard was an unsettling creaking noise, followed by a gasp, and concluded with the telltale snap of a palm tree branch. With a cry, Sora dropped from the tree and landed on the sandy walkway in a heap. He carefully lifted himself up to his knees, but the severed tree branch followed suit and plopped down on top of him, effectively knocking him back down.

"Sora!" Kairi hurried toward him, kneeling at his side to get a closer look. "Are you okay? You're such an idiot! You should've picked truth."

The boy looked up at Kairi and, to her utter surprise, was grinning widely despite how disoriented he was from the fall. "Where's the fun in that, huh?"

His consciousness was enough to make Kairi sigh in relief, but she still managed to roll her eyes at his recklessness. "C'mon, you, you're coming with me. I have an ice pack at home. You don't need anymore brain damage than you already had to begin with."

She helped Sora to his feet, gripping both of his hands tightly until he assured her that he was stable enough to stand on his own. It was with riotous laughter that they made their way down the path toward the Bennettson Estate, abandoning the forgotten paopu fruit that was still attached to the fallen tree limb.

Kairi's house was a grand monstrosity that was poised atop a grassy hill on the northern-most point of the Island with a large cast-iron fence gating off the entirety of their property. The long stretch of gravely driveway, which was flanked by a row of stately palm trees, was perhaps the most intimidating sight in the whole town. It led straight to the front courtyard, decorated with gardens and fountains, that mapped out the pathway to the front doors. Upon his arrival to the Island, when Sora was just a child, he would catch sight of the estate in the distance. His young and overactive imagination concocted many a theory about how a princess was locked away in that castle.

It wasn't until he actually met Kairi that he realized his childish follies hadn't been too far from the truth.

"Just make yourself comfortable and I'll be right back with the ice," Kairi discarded her backpack onto the floor beside the fireplace and scurried off into the kitchen.

Sora shuffled awkwardly into the living room. He'd been inside Kairi's house countless times before, but, still, making himself comfortable within the confines of the immaculate estate was no easy feat. In fact, nothing about the room seemed to be particularly comfortable. The sofa was upholstered to perfection without a single decorative pillow out of place. The armchairs were lavish, but appeared to be antiques — most likely remnants of the wealthy Bennettson ancestors. Instead, Sora took a seat at the bench by the large bay windows where he seemed least likely to disrupt the perfection. The view overlooked the calm ocean, traveling so far into the distance that it blended together with the blue of the sky.

He turned his head just in time to catch the ice pack that Kairi tossed to him. She also came bearing two juice pouches, one of which she was already sipping through a small straw. The other one was offered to Sora with a smile as she sat beside him on the bench. The boy couldn't help but think about how amusing it was — as a teenager, his mind was still quite overactive and he imagined that a house like the Bennettson Estate would only supply caviar and fine wine as an after-school snack. But Sora was immensely glad that Kairi was more of a juice pouch kind of girl.

"Thanks," he smiled back and pressed the ice pack to his head. With his free hand, he stabbed the top of the juice pouch with his straw and began drinking.

Kairi's eyes, which were as blue as the distant sea water, gazed whimsically out the window. "It's really beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Sora agreed as his own blue eyes followed the direction of hers. "You're so lucky you get to see it every day."

"Lucky," she repeated softly, her lips lingering above her straw. "I guess you could call it that."

Sora turned his attention back to the girl and frowned at her sudden solemnness. "C'mon, Kairi, get real. Look at this place — you have everything you could ever want."

"Do you think my parents ever actually sit down on that couch to watch TV? We have a dining room, but never any guests to fill it. We have a kitchen full of food, but maids who cook all our meals for us. Sometimes I just want to — I don't know — do something myself," Kairi's gaze never peeled away from the sight of the sparkling water expanding over the horizon. "Instead of just watching through a window."

Sora's hand was suddenly laying atop Kairi's. It was a simple gesture and certainly nothing out of the ordinary for the two friends, but the close contact still sent a tingle up the boy's spine. Have Kairi's hands always been that soft?

"Kairi, honey!"

Their moment was interrupted by the sound of the front doors opening, followed by a commanding yet melodic voice coming from the foyer. Kairi groaned under her breath, a reaction that didn't go unnoticed by Sora, and retracted her hands. The boy had half a mind to reach over and grab them again, but Kairi's mother was suddenly looming in the doorway, holding up a large garment bag like a prize-winning trophy.

"I just picked up your dress from the shop, angel, and it looks even more stunning than it did at the initial fitting! You're going to be the talk of the town after —" Mrs. Bennettson froze when she looked past the garment bag to find her daughter. With company.

"Hey, mom. Sora's here," Kairi announced.

Sora waved awkwardly with the hand that wasn't still pressing an ice pack to his head. "Hi, Mrs. Bennettson."

The woman cleared her throat, clearly perturbed by the boy's presence, and lowered the garment bag with a forced, "I didn't realize you were having friends over."

"It's just Sora, mom," said Kairi after whispering a quick apology to Sora's uncomfortable expression. She got to her feet and approached her mother in calm strides. "So… Are you gonna show us or not?"

"Well…" Mrs. Bennettson flashed a less-than-subtle glance in Sora's direction, but before an excuse could escape her lips, her daughter was already unzipping the garment bag to reveal a pink ball gown, covered in an excessive amount of ruffles and bows.

Kairi held it up to herself, then spun in place to allow the many layers of fabric to swoosh and twirl around her legs. "What do you think?"

Sora was stunned to realize that the question had been directed toward him. His blue eyes doubled their normal size as he took in the sight of the dress, scraping every corner of his brain to find a proper response. It was very difficult to be honest with Mrs. Bennettson staring him down like a bug that needed to be exterminated.

"Uh, it's really… pink."

Mrs. Bennettson turned to her daughter. "We shouldn't trouble him with questions he clearly has no interest in, honey."

"But he should be interested, mom," Kairi still clung determinedly to the dress. "Because Sora is going to be my date to the ball."

There was a resounding smack as the melting ice pack slipped from Sora's hand and fell against the wooden bench. He felt the burn of their expectant eyes watching him, but he just couldn't help the way his jaw fell slightly open in shock. After shifting his gaze back and forth between the two ladies for a while, Sora finally found the strength to croak out a response.

"Um… Yeah! I am. Fancy parties are totally my favorite thing," he fumbled with words that he never expected to grace his lips. Kairi masked a giggle behind her hand, but her mother didn't appear to be nearly as amused. She scowled — menacing, but controlled — and whipped around to exit the room swiftly.

Once they were alone again, Kairi erupted in a fit of laughter, falling backwards onto the couch in a ridiculous heap of pink lace and frills. Sora jumped to his feet in an instant.

"You've gotta be kidding me, Kairi!" He panicked. "Me? Your date? Your mom can't even stand being in the same room as me."

"That's exactly the point," she explained through her merriment. "Remember what I just told you? I'm sick of not calling the shots in my own life. So, this is me, calling my own shot."

Sora snorted indelicately, "Well, if you're calling shots now, then maybe you could aim one at my head so I have an excuse not to go —"

"What, are you scared?"

A comically disgruntled frown crept onto his face as he blurted out, "Huh — no, of course not." Their gazes locked together in an unspoken challenge.

"Then come," Kairi pressed, slowly getting to her feet, leaving her dress in a frilly pile on the couch. "I dare you."

Had Sora not been distracted by his unflinching sense of competition, he might've complained about how utterly unfair it was that Kairi knew exactly how to steer the situation in her favor. And judging by the pleased smirk pulling at her lips, it was all intentional. Sora narrowed his gaze and straightened his spine, much like he had done earlier before retrieving the paopu fruit. It was just some silly party — how bad could it be?

"Okay," he agreed firmly. "You're on."


Roxas dropped his lunch tray onto his usual table to garner the attention of his friends. "Guys."

Olette perked up curiously while Pence reluctantly lifted his head that was buried inside a textbook. Hayner reached over to snatch a french fry off of Roxas' tray. "Gonna eat that?" The boy asked, already dipping the fry in ketchup and stuffing it into his mouth.

"Guys," he tried again. "Look, I just stopped by to tell you that I can't sit here today."

"What?" The three said in unison.

Hayner nearly leapt to his feet in outrage, the fry hanging halfway out of his mouth. "We've been sitting here since freshman year. This is our spot. You can't just bail on our spot!"

Pence pushed his textbook away, a definitive sign that he was now fully attentive. "Hayner's right. I mean… where else would you even sit?"

Roxas sighed, feeling foolish for ever thinking that he could get away without an interrogation session. "A friend from my writing class. It's not a big deal."

"You'd rather sit around and talk about feelings and poetry than hang out with us?" Hayner demanded, earning him a shove from Olette.

Roxas sighed again, heavier. "He invited me to sit at his table today and I… don't wanna be rude."

"Who's 'he'?" Olette questioned. Roxas opened his mouth to respond when a hand came down on his shoulder from behind.

"Axel," the owner of the hand answered. Four pairs of startled eyes flashed over to that unmistakable mane of red hair that loomed over Roxas' shoulder. Axel was grinning easily at the friends, a clear attempt at being charming.

When nobody dared to speak, Roxas cleared his throat. "Guys, this is Axel. And this is Hayner, Pence, and Olette."

"A pleasure," Axel purred. "Now, you don't mind if I steal Roxas here for a while, do you? I promise to give him back in one piece."

Hayner nodded. "Uh, sure," It was one of the few times Roxas had ever seen his loudmouthed friend so speechless.

Axel winked in gratitude before leading Roxas away from the table. The blond waved to his utterly bemused friends and picked up his lunch tray. "See you later."

"I thought you might be a no-show," Axel explained as they steered through the bustling cafeteria. The redhead's hand was still settled firmly on Roxas' shoulder. "So I took it upon myself to do a little damage control. Wouldn't want your friends thinking I'm some kind of creep, after all."

Roxas shrugged. "Well, I've only known you for a couple of hours. You could still be a creep."

"Says the guy who accepted a creepy stranger's lunch invitation," Axel's smirk was, admittedly, quite contagious and Roxas found himself chuckling down at his tray. The older boy jabbed a finger into the corner of Roxas' upturned lips. "Aha! So it does know how to laugh."

In spite of himself, Roxas' grin grew wider as he swatted Axel's hand away.

Axel's lunch table was located in the back corner of the cafeteria — uncharted territory in Roxas' case. Despite it being tucked away from plain view, he still found it strange that he'd never noticed the odd collection of seniors who gathered there. They all wore black from head to toe and sported some of the most bizarre hairstyles that Roxas had ever seen. Some were scribbling away in notebooks, some were picking idly at their lunches, and others were simply staring off into space. Yet they all sat in silence as if they were strangers rather than a group of friends.

"How cute. Axel found a stray," a boy with blue hair quietly sneered from the far end of the table, though the remark didn't go unheard by the others. The only girl at the table, a snooty-looking blonde with an upturned nose, giggled wildly into her palm.

Roxas carefully sunk into the seat beside Axel, who shot a terrifying glare in the blue-haired boy's direction. "Here we have Xemnas, Xigbar, Xaldin, Vexen, Lexaeus, Zexion, Demyx, Luxord, Marluxia, Larxene, and that charmer down there is Saix," Axel nudged Roxas with his elbow and grinned as if he were sharing a private joke with himself. "Organization, meet Roxas."

Roxas received no greetings, only suspicious glares. But when the group decided to leave them be and carry on with their silent lunch, the young blond turned to Axel and wondered, "Organization?"

"It's just something we like to call ourselves," Axel told him, reaching down the front of his shirt to reveal a dog tag necklace with a strange-looking emblem engraved on it.

As he glanced down the table at the other members, Roxas noticed that they all wore that very same emblem — some on a ring, some on a headband, and some with a necklace like Axel. He lifted an eyebrow at the redhead. "Are you guys some kind of gang?"

Axel smirked. "Why? You a cop or something?"

"No, I just…" Roxas stammered hurriedly. "I just wanna know why you asked me to sit here today."

"'Cause I like making new friends. Is that such a crime?" Axel leaned forward, elbows propped on the tabletop, and scrunched up his pointed nose while his fingers plucked a fry from the other boy's tray. "Jeez, you're paranoid. Anyone ever tell you that?"

"Not to my face," said Roxas, making Axel chuckle.

The redhead chewed on his mouthful of fry thoughtfully, fingertips drumming against the lunch table. Roxas couldn't help but worry about what kind of thoughts were mulling around in the senior's head. "Alright. Now it's my turn to ask some hard-hitting questions," Axel concluded as he made direct eye contact with Roxas' skeptical gaze. "Tell me… your favorite color."

Roxas blinked. "Seriously? That's hard-hitting?"

"You. Favorite color. Go," Axel prompted.

The blond struggled with the unexpected question. "Um, I dunno… Blue, maybe?"

"Favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Sea salt."

"Boxers or briefs?"

"Uh, boxers."

"And what's the deal with your daddy issues?"

Roxas nearly choked on his own spit. "Huh — daddy issues? What do you mean?"

Axel waved a hand in the air nonchalantly. "In class you mentioned something about a dental hygienist…"

"He's not my father."

The redhead's hands went up in defense. "Fine, fine, definitely no relation," he leaned forward again, intrigued. "But what gives?"

Roxas fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. Family wasn't his ideal topic of discussion, especially with someone he had just met, but Axel seemed like the kind of person who wouldn't drop the subject so easily. Those penetrating emerald eyes were already boring a hole through Roxas' hesitant features and the blond had a feeling that they wouldn't let up until he started talking.

And so Roxas exhaled and mumbled out the abridged version of his familial strife, "My parents got divorced and my mom started dating again. And the guys she brings home are all far from father material."

"Hm," Axel hummed softly. As Roxas glanced upward again, he was surprised to discover that the older boy's gaze had turned solemn — patient and sympathetic — as he listened. Axel's hand absently reached for another fry. "So what happened to the real old man Eberhardt?"

"He moved. To Twilight Town," Roxas sighed. "I've been trying to make plans to go visit him sometime, but… it hasn't worked out. He's really busy."

"Jeez, pass me the tissues while you're at it," Axel pointed the limp fry in his hand at the boy. "Family sucks, my friend."

"You can say that again," agreed Roxas. "What about you?"

Axel's usual smirk returned in an instant. "Well, I like to think that I don't suck…"

"No, I mean," the younger boy cautiously looked up to meet Axel's eyes. "What about your family?"

For a brief flicker of a second, Roxas could've sworn he detected a glimmer of hesitance flash through those confident green orbs. But the moment had passed just as quickly as it had arrived, and Axel was collected once more as he bit off the end of the french fry with a shrug.

"Don't have one," he said simply.

The response was as vague as Axel had intended, leaving Roxas' mind reeling with curiosity. The blond furrowed his brow, studying his new friend's face intently, but Axel's stare was a steely challenge — silently daring him to attempt to break down his defenses. Before Roxas could accept that challenge, the dismissal bell beat him to the punch. The other Organization members stood and dispersed in various directions, still in silence. Roxas looked down at his untouched lunch, save for the fries that had been moderately devoured by Axel, and then stood when he noticed the redhead already slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"'Til tomorrow, Roxas."

Axel joined the throngs of students as everyone piled out of the cafeteria, disappearing around the corner as he headed toward his next destination. Roxas, for what seemed like the millionth time that day, was dumbfounded. Axel had managed to squeeze some information out of him, but the blond still knew very little about his new friend. Why did he seem to care so much about his life? And why did he even bother seeking out his company when he already had an entire lunch table of friends?

Roxas found himself pondering the answers as he hurried off to his next class.


The sun was just beginning to set by the time track practice ended. Riku, after a few extra laps and a long shower in the locker room, was finally on his way home. A few of his teammates clapped him on the back on his way out, a congratulatory gesture for beating his old record mile time that afternoon. The silver-haired sophomore issued his thanks and let his aching limbs carry him all the way home.

He didn't take the path by the beach. He was alone. It wouldn't be right.

Riku's house was in an old neighborhood of the Island. It was quaint with sand-covered roads and cobblestone sidewalks, but the houses were much too close together and a bit too small. When Riku stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was his father's study to the left of the front door. The desktop was littered with papers, some crumpled into balls of frustration and others just strewn around messily. A few of the books from the shelf had fallen to the floor, as well as a small table lamp, the bulb shattered into tiny pieces on the rug — the scene of another one of his father's episodes.

He didn't want to think about how coming home to such a familiar sight had became part of his daily routine. Instead, Riku put the books back on the shelf, stacked the papers as best he could on the desktop, and swept the glass shards into a dustpan. He followed the soft murmur of the television set into the living room where his father was sprawled haphazardly across the couch, fast asleep as the screen lit up the room in a dim glow. A half-empty beer can was still in the man's clutches so Riku placed it safely on the end table. He found his father's medication bottle sitting amongst the clutter, picked it up and did a quick count to make sure he'd taken the necessary dosage for the day.

"Hey, dad," Riku sighed. He grabbed an afghan blanket from the recliner and gently laid it over his father's sleeping body, then turned the television off before heading upstairs.

It had been barely over a year since Riku's mother met her untimely death in a car accident off the Island. Sometimes the memories felt so vivid that Riku could've sworn it had happened only yesterday. Other times, the memories were distant like some kind of far-off dream that didn't even belong to him. That's when Riku started running. He learned to love the burn of over-exerted muscles — the rush that he got as he ran far, far away from everything else except the wind against his skin and the quickening of his heartbeat.

But Riku's father wasn't as strong as his son. He spiraled downward. He didn't cope. He never recovered from the grief of a broken heart. There were days — the bad days, as Riku called them — when his father would become inexplicably inconsolable, causing him to wreak havoc throughout the house. Other days were even worse and he'd lock himself away in the bedroom, unable to get out of bed and refusing to face the world. The good days — which were few and far between — almost made Riku forget about the pain.

And some days he just needed his mother.

He made his way into his room on the second floor, small and cozy with a slanted attic-style ceiling. Although he was exhausted, Riku knew that he wouldn't be going to sleep any time soon. Part of him wanted to run the block a few times, just for the fresh air, but he knew that he'd crash and burn if he didn't rest. So he paced the floor restlessly, coming to a pause at his window. The sun had completely set, but he could still see, by the glow of the moon, that his window led right out to the rooftop. It suddenly looked rather inviting out there and a far better option than suffocating on the stifling misfortunes of inside his house. And so, without much thought, the boy pushed open his window and climbed outside.

Riku was immediately greeted by a rush of warm, salty air. He inhaled the scent as he sat on the roof, leaning back to stare up at the small specks of starlight in the night sky.

"I guess my hiding place isn't such a secret anymore," an unfamiliar voice spoke up softly.

Riku sat up with a start. He could barely make out the small figure sitting cross-legged on the rooftop of his neighbor's house across the way. She was bent over her lap as she scribbled intently onto her large sketchpad, long tresses of wispy blonde hair falling around her face to shroud her delicate features in mystery. It wasn't until she looked up from her artwork that Riku noticed a pair of bright blue eyes blinking at him through the darkness.

"Oh… Sorry. Didn't see you there," he apologized.

The girl shrugged her tiny shoulders and went back to sketching. "It's okay. You can stay."

They fell into a comfortable silence with their only accompaniment being the distant roll of the waves and the gentle scratching of her pencil against the paper. Still, Riku couldn't stop staring. His mysterious neighbor seemed strangely familiar to him.

"I'm Riku, by the way," he spoke again, breaking the silence.

The scratching noise stopped as she meekly replied, "I know."

The boy was confused. "You know who I am?"

"Riku Gaines, sophomore. Track star of Destiny High."

There was only a small amount of sarcasm hidden in her airy tone, but it was enough to make Riku mumble bashfully, "Yeah… something like that."

"And I'm Namine Lunette, sophomore. Self-proclaimed art geek," she continued.

"Nice to meet you, Namine."

"You, too, Riku."

More silence. Still comfortable. The scratching noise started up again.

"So what are you hiding from?" Riku wondered after a while. Namine's blue eyes peered up in confusion so he added, "You said that this is your secret hiding place. That must mean you're hiding from something."

Namine's reply was a bit too delayed to be entirely convincing. "I just like coming out here to sketch, that's all."

"What're you sketching?" He asked. Even through the darkness, Riku could detect the way that Namine's cheeks reddened beneath her porcelain skin.

"Your house, actually," she pulled her sketchpad to her chest and tilted her head with intrigue as she studied the neighboring house. "I like the way those vines crawl up the side like that. It's gentle, but… complex. And there are flowers about to bloom right there — wisteria, I think — small bursts of color like…"

Namine's voice trailed off into nothing when she noticed Riku staring at her with a furrowed brow. She hugged her sketchpad a little tighter.

"Sounds like you've been spending a lot of time out here," the boy commented.

"I hope you don't mind," said Namine.

Riku shook his head. "Only if I can see the sketch when you're done."

The corners of Namine's lips curled upward, almost imperceptibly. "Okay."

There was a muted thud from within Riku's house, followed by clambering footsteps and a groggy call of, "Riku? You home?", to signify that his father had woken up from his nap.

Riku looked over at Namine. "I have to…"

"I understand," the tiny blonde assured him before returning to her drawing as if she'd never been interrupted.

He watched her for a brief moment — the way she moved her hands with practiced skill, the way her round eyes settled into concentration — and climbed back into his room. It was with a resounding slam that Riku shut the window behind him, sealing him off from the safety of his new hiding place.

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to be continued

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