Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This storyline is mine. Bleh, this is a bit of a filler chapter, but it's still important to the rest of the story, so…Riku's not the only one having issues apparently. I'm just exploring the depths of Kairi's psyche. My apologies if that train derailed. Reviews are love!

..:--X--:..

Chapter Seven: A Mess to Clean

I didn't like the way Sora and my date ended. Neither of us let the other know it bothered us, but we both knew anyway. The truth was, we WERE drifting apart, and I couldn't understand it. After last summer, we had been inseparable. I was falling in love with him, I knew that, but was drifting supposed to happen?

We spent just as much time with each other after that as we had before. It was like nothing had changed, except that something HAD changed, and neither of us knew exactly what it was.

Riku hung out with us for a few days, but he didn't go to our smaller island, so we just stayed on the main island for those few days. He seemed fine, a far cry from what I'd seen when I returned his jacket. In fact, he was completely normal for those brief hours. He didn't drive with us and his mom was calling every half hour to 'check on him'.

Sora didn't make any comments about Riku not being able to drive, and I internally thanked him for that.

For that week, it felt like the last two months had never happened, like we were still three happy go lucky, summer-starved teenagers. The week after that reminded us that we weren't.

It was three weeks after the eclipse and the three of us were hanging out on the beach of the main island. It was the middle of July and the weather hadn't broken the 40 degree barrier since school ended.

Sora and Riku had tried to get their blood going by sparring, but the wind was so brutal that any warmth they gained from the movement was quickly stolen away. I had resigned myself to freezing and sat against a rock, shielded from the wind.

The boys eventually gave up and walked over to where I was.

"It's supposed to be summer, right?" Sora asked, stamping his feet to warm up.

" 'Let's get out and enjoy the weather!' " I grunted through my chattering teeth, imitating Sora's upbeat attitude, "I'm never listening to you ever again."

Sora just shrugged, "Who was I to know it would be sunny with a high of 35 in July?"

Riku shook his head, "I don't care if it's 35 below zero, it just feels good to be out of the house. I was about to go crazy…well, crazier." His laugh was hollow.

"Speaking of which, it's been a grand total of forty-five minutes since your mom last called. That's a record." Sora nodded in mock solemnity.

Riku rolled his eyes, "It's so stupid. By the way my parents are acting, you'd think I was about to attack people on the streets."

There it was. I narrowed my eyes. It was hard to spot it, but I'd caught it. Riku had become very good at pretending he wasn't hearing or seeing things, but every so often he slipped. I'd seen him turn his head a fraction and glance for just a split second to his right, before he'd quickly turned back to the conversation.

I bit my lip. So he wasn't better, as he was clearly wanting us to believe. I desperately wanted to pretend I wasn't noticing this, but I was. Sora didn't.

"Well, I'll start keeping my sword with me then." Sora remarked, nudging him playfully in the shoulder.

Riku folded his arms, "What, that wooden stick we used to fight with? You don't still have that?"

"…No, I meant…another…different…sword." Sora averted his eyes.

Riku laughed, "I better watch out, I might get a splinter or something…Kairi, you okay?"

I had been staring at him, not meaning to. I was trying to pick up where he thought Xehanort was by his glances and shifting eyes, but it appeared that I had been staring at him.

Sora looked between us, "Should I leave you two alone?" He sounded a little annoyed.

I quickly looked from Riku to Sora and back to Riku, "No, I mean, yeah, I'm fine. Sora got a car." I blurted, trying to divert attention from the fact that I had been staring.

Riku exchanged a look with Sora, "I know. He's mentioned that several times already."

He looked about to pursue the question of my staring when his phone rang. He groaned and pulled it out.

"Riku can't come to the phone right now," He said in a light voice, "He's busy pillaging and burning down houses."

Sora snorted and I looked at him. He smiled at me, but looked away without holding my gaze like he usually did. My shoulders drooped despite myself. Why did I feel like I was losing him?

"I thought it was funny." Riku said, rubbing his head. I could hear Tara's voice, but I couldn't understand what she was saying. Riku rolled his eyes and made a face, "Mom, it's not like I'm…I know but…If you'll just…guh, fine." He hung up and looked at us, "Apparently I will die a grisly death if I don't get home soon."

Sora stretched, "Man, what does she think is going to happen?"

Riku shrugged, "I don't know, but I—I don't think—think she—"

His voice slurred and he started to lean sideways.

"Hey—" Sora started, lifting a hand to steady him.

"Sora!" I yelped in warning, scrambling to my feet.

Riku's knees buckled and his eyes closed. Sora caught him before he completely collapsed. He lowered him to the ground and I hurried over.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I think he passed out." Sora grunted sarcastically, checking his pulse.

"I'll get help."

"No, wait, he's waking up."

I stopped rising. Riku's eyelids were fluttering and he was shifting on the ground. I knelt down again, shaking. Beads of sweat had broken out across his face, despite the cold wind.

He moaned once and opened his eyes. His gaze was out of focus. He blinked a few times and narrowed his eyes, looking up at us.

"Riku…" I started, touching his arm.

The realization of what happened seemed to dawn on him, because he tried to sit up.

Sora gripped his shoulder, "Easy, buddy. Just stay down for a second. You scared us."

Riku's face was flushing, either from the fever or embarrassment, it was hard to tell.

"I'm okay…"

I shook my head, "You can't pull that anymore. You're not okay, Riku. Let us help you."

His eyes hardened and he pushed himself up on his elbows, "I don't need any help."

Sora and I kept steadying hands on his arms as he sat up, the blood rushing back to his body from his head, letting the dizzy spell subside. Sora exchanged a look with me and I stood up.

"I'll go get help." I started.

Riku grabbed my arm, "No."

"Riku, you just collapsed, man." Sora pressed.

Riku pushed himself up on his knees, "Look, I'm sorry I scared you, but I don't need to scare anyone else."

I looked at Sora, then back to Riku, "But your mom—"

Riku looked sharply at me, "Do NOT tell her about this. Please."

The please made me hesitate. He was…he was pleading with us not to let anyone know that something was wrong with him. To hide this.

"Okay." Sora answered, nodding slightly. I looked at him incredulously. "But," he added, "YOU should look after yourself. And, on that note, we should head home."

I couldn't believe it. Boys were so…STUPID! As concerned as I was, I made my feelings known by standing off to the side as Sora helped Riku to his feet. I walked several feet ahead of them on the trek back to the village, so angry I couldn't form words to yell at them.

I said a terse goodbye to them both and stalked rigidly back to my house. I slammed the door a little harder than was necessary, making my mother look up from the laundry she was folding.

"Easy on the doors, Kairi." Her smile faded when she saw my face, "What's wrong, honey?"

"Boys." I muttered, stomping towards the stairs.

"What—"

"I don't want to talk about it."

I reached my room and closed my door. My room was clean and organized, as I'd left it; everything was where it should be and it was all orderly and neat.

In a fit of frustration, I dropped my purse and pulled the top drawer out of my dresser. It was full of evenly folded clothes. I turned it over and let the clothes topple where they might, setting the drawer aside when it was empty.

The sudden anger had no origination. I really didn't know why I was so mad, why I yearned so desperately for a mess I knew I would have to clean up later. Why did I have to make a mess that I knew I had to clean? Because I knew I COULD clean it, unlike this mess my life was in now.

I opened my closet doors, pulled out my hanging clothes, and tossed them out on the floor and onto my bed. I tossed my shoes in the corners and emptied my make up bag on top of my desk, which was strewn with loose paper and unfinished summer homework.

My dresser was emptied across the floor and the contents of my closet were tossed about where it draped over the furniture. My CDs were fanned out at angles over my rumpled bedspread.

I flicked the knob on my stereo so that the music blared out of the speakers, the normally gentle music screeching and warbling in protest.

Finally, I collapsed on my bed, staring at my work. It looked like an explosion of clothes and accessories had occurred in my room, covering everything in blouses, skirts, and other garments. I panted, out of breath with the fervor of terrorizing my articulate and clean room.

I hated it. Why? Why was everything falling apart? Why couldn't I help one of my best friends? Why didn't he want to be helped? Why was I drifting away from my boyfriend, who I had fallen in love with? Why was I so angry with the both of them?...Why had I just destroyed my room?

There were two apprehensive knocks on the door. "Sweetie?" It was my dad.

"Yeah?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Are you all right?"

"Great…I'm…I'm just fine." I lied through my teeth.

I heard his footsteps recede down the hallway and turned to the window. Dusk was settling across the island, giving the sky a pinkish, orange hue.

Sighing, I stood up and walked over to nearest clump of tangled, wrinkled clothes. Picking up a pair of jeans, I carefully folded them and hung them on a hanger, hooking it back in place in my closet.

Slowly, I started picking up the clothes I'd so determinedly thrown around. Feeling stupid now but strangely relieved, I hung my clothes back on the hangars, replacing them in my closet. I folded them and reset my dresser drawers. I lined my CDs back up and repacked my make up bag. It was actually therapeutic, fixing something that needed fixing, and being able to do it successfully. At least this mess I knew how to clean.

At least I knew how to fix this wreck.