Over 100 frakking reviews. You have no idea how much your guys' support means to me, and only because you can't read my mind. Thank you thank you thank you.
BTW: Yes, I got the idea of Rufus Shinra as a daddy from XShiori-chanX's "Cheesecake Topped with Gummy Bears".
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING MENTIONED IN THIS STORY.
I only own this story. Enjoy!
Xxx XXX xxX
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID!
The broken girl curled up on the bed clutched her sheets a little tighter, crying her heart out into the soft cloth as pale as her bare skin.
She'd called for him, screamed for him when he'd left.
But he hadn't heard.
Maybe she shouldn't have helped Sora and Kairi. She should've just left them at Seifer's mercy; if she did she might be with him right now—laughing, talking, reveling in their love. After all, she'd really had no reason to help them.
She hated herself a little bit more when she thought that.
There was a knock at the door and Naminé shifted up, glaring through tear-blurred vision at whoever was behind it.
"What?"
The door creaked open, revealing Xion, still clad in her dark gown. "Can I come in?" the brunette asked timidly.
"Yeah, whatever," Naminé mumbled, burying her head back into the sheets.
There was a noise of rustling cloth as her roommate slipped out of her dress and into more casual pajamas. Footsteps padded across the carpet and halted off to her left.
"You're naked," Xion said disapprovingly, placing her hands on her hips.
"I don't care."
Xion sighed and sat down on the edge of the cot. The traceuse placed her hands in her lap, looked at Naminé, but the blonde's face was obscured by matted flaxen locks.
"What happened?" Xion inquired.
Naminé did not respond.
The brunette sighed and moved a hand to brush her friend's tear-sodden bangs out of her eyes. Cobalt irises met ice-blue ones. "Naminé, just tell me. Or I can ask Roxas."
At the mention of the blond traceur, Naminé began crying even harder.
"Did he cheat on you?"
The blonde sat up, fury lighting up her eyes at the very thought of that. Xion immediately scooted away. "Okay, forget I ever said that. But seriously, what happened?"
She might as well tell her now that she's been incited.
"I k-kissed a-a-another g-guy," Naminé gasped through a fit of sobs. "He s-should've b-been m-mad at me. W-Why wasn't h-he?"
But that wasn't the real reason.
"He wasn't mad at you because he trusts you, Naminé," Xion said gently, cupping the artist's cheek with her hand. "Hell, he loves you—in fact, you're the first person to have ever made him feel that way towards a girl."
That made Naminé feel marginally better—and then her momentary respite from all the grief and fear and self-pity crashed down all around her the moment she remembered him walking away from her.
"Now, care to tell me the real reason you're PMSing?" Xion asked with a don't-even-think-about-lying look on her face.
"Seifer," she said, drawing her knees to her chest.
The expression on Xion's face told Naminé that the brunette did not require further elaboration on that particular moment.
"What happened next?"
"Roxas saved me, but then he walked away. Why…why did he do that?" Naminé murmured, drawing her knees up to her chest.
Xion sighed again and clapped her friend on the shoulder. "Well, don't be emo and mope about it," Xion advised. She smiled comfortingly. "I bet he'll come begging for forgiveness tomorrow, ASAP."
"How do you know?" the blonde muttered. But at least the tears had stopped.
"Because I know that Roxas isn't the kind of guy who leaves a girl hanging," Xion declared.
Xxx XXX xxX
The brunette either was dead wrong, this time, or didn't know Roxas all that well in the first place, because a certain blond traceur was nowhere to be found in English the next morning.
Naminé had waited and waited and waited but the familiar dark blond spikes never popped through the window, the mischievous lapis irises never gazed tenderly into her own ice-blues.
The whispers started when the bell rang and still Roxas did not come, jeering into her ear that 'maybe he broke up with her' or 'maybe he's out with another girl' or whatever drivel the gossips had come up with this time.
Or at least she hoped it was drivel.
"Where are you?" Naminé mumbled into her arms.
Ms. Lockhart started roll call. When she got to his name…
"Takahashi, Roxas."
Silence.
"Takahashi, Roxas."
Silence.
"Takahashi, Roxas."
When nobody responded for the third time, Ms. Lockhart finally looked up and raised an eyebrow.
"Miss Miyamoto, do you know where Mr. Takahashi is?" she asked.
"No." Namine did her best to hold back tears.
"Okay..."
Ms. Lockhart scribbled something on her clipboard. The rest of the names passed uneventfully.
And then the lecture began, with no Roxas to play with her hair or poke her or banter with her like he usually did.
"Where are you?" she said again, but this time a tear accompanied her words.
He wasn't at Trigonometry, either, when second period's late bell chimed.
Naminé plopped her messenger bag down on her desk and just stood next to her seat, not sitting down.
Mr. Leonhart looked up. "Miss Miyamoto, please sit down."
She did, mechanically.
And slammed her face into the burlap, not crying, not dry sobbing, just mashing her nose against the cloth in a vain attempt to forget about the pain with more pain. She decided that she hated not knowing most of all; the simple fact that where the hell Roxas might be was information not privy to her was, to her, like one of those nightmares where you were chased by a monster you couldn't see, you couldn't hear, you couldn't sense, only that it was chasing you and you just didn't fucking know what it was.
She hated nightmares.
But seriously, she thought, she had to know where he was. Was he gone? Did he move? If so, then where?
One corner of her mouth curled into a contemptuous smirk. She was turning into one of those obsessive, clingy girlfriends who absolutely had to know where their men were 24/7. Roxas could take care of himself; he was probably just out cutting class with the parkourists.
Her smirk changed into a playful pout as she realized if so, then he was cutting her out of the fun. How dare him, ha-ha.
Xion told me not to be emo about this. I won't. Can't.
A gentle a-hem drew Naminé out of her reverie. She raised her head, prepared to deflect any queries Mr. Leonhart was having about her attention to his frankly rather lively lecture (the guy loved his math)—before she realized that the cough had come from her left side.
Specifically, the boy on her left side.
Specifically, the boy who had kissed her last night without her consent.
"What do you want?" she hissed crossly, glaring pointedly at his mouth as if it was going to try to kill her. She wasn't angry at him, explicitly, but she was wary of another attempt at a smooch.
"I just wanted to apologize about last night," the brown-haired boy said, scratching his hair. "I shouldn't have done what I did."
Naminé's anger deflated. "Oh," she mumbled. "Well, it's okay—my boyfriend said you explained everything to him."
"You're not mad at me?"
"I'm not mad anymore," she sighed, resting her head on her arms. "I…I'm just…afraid you're going to try to pull a stunt like that again."
He chuckled. "And risk setting off Roxas Takahashi? No thanks, Miss."
"My name is Naminé."
"Okay, Miss Naminé, if you gave me your name, then I should probably give you mine," he replied, leaning back. "I'm Terra. Nice to meet you, Naminé."
"Isn't Terra a girl's name?" Naminé wondered aloud, and then she realized her mistake. "Oh, I-I'm sorry—it's nice to meet you too."
Terra actually looked more amused than offended. "Yeah, it's a girl's name," he smirked, rolling his eyes. "But it's Latin for earth, which is a tough-ass ancient element. Terra—it's strong, it's got a nice ring, and really—I like it. It's my name, after all."
Strong, has a nice ring, she likes it.
Just like Roxas.
Naminé nodded and smiled slightly before pulling a notebook out of her bag.
Xxx XXX xxX
Everybody was at the table—Axel, Larxene, Zexion, Xion, and a fidgety, rather effeminate-looking man with long blond hair.
"Hey, guys," Naminé said, taking her usual seat. "Who's new?"
"Excuse me?" the man snapped, glaring at her. "New? Look who's talking, you insolent whippersnapper! Who are you, anyways?"
As the man continued ranting about 'impertinent youngsters' and 'such disrespect towards an elder citizen' and shaking his head sadly at the 'death of filial piety' and how in the 'old days' he'd have used the belt 'n birch on her and whatnot, Xion leaned over to the wide-eyed Naminé.
"This is Vexen," the brunette explained. "You might not want to piss him off, Naminé—he's got quite a temper."
"You can bet your miserable hide I do, Number XIV!" Vexen barked, pointing an accusing finger at the two girls. "And who is this blonde girl, anyways?"
"She's Naminé," Xion replied without looking at him.
"What does he mean by 'Number XIV'?" Naminé asked.
Larxene raised an eyebrow. "Hello? Have you forgotten already?" the traceuse said. "We're all a part of the XIII."
"Yeah, I know that already, but you're not really telling me anything much besides that," Naminé replied.
"We all have numbers according to the time we joined in the XIII," Axel muttered. The redhead was haggard and his hair was disheveled. "Vexen's—"
"That would be Number IV, Number VIII!"
"—OCD about using our numbers to refer to each other. None of us do that anymore, though," Axel finished, rubbing his bleary green eyes. "Gah, so freaking tired…"
"If you had chosen not to go to Xigbar's run last night, you wouldn't be," Zexion replied. The brunette traceur, on the other hand, was immaculate.
Naminé remembered the friendly, eyepatched wisecracker and smiled a bit at the memory.
Vexen wrinkled his nose at the mention of Xigbar. "You mean that clown Number II?" he sniffed. "He's nothing but an overrated buffoon. What does the Superior see in him, anyways? I would be a much better Number II than…than…Number II!"
"He's second-in-command because he's courteous, competent, and generally pleasant to have around, old man," Zexion sighed, rubbing his temples. "You, on the other hand, are loud, bitchy, and generally exasperating as hell."
"WHAAAT!" Vexen roared in a comically shrill voice. "How dare you disrespect me, Number VI?"
"How can I when you have no prestige to speak of, old man?"
As Vexen and Zexion began verbally dueling (with the junior as the foregone winner), Naminé turned to the other three at the table. She tried to think up something to talk about and came up with several things, but she decided not to talk about the XIII in the meantime.
"So, Axel, Larxene, are you two a couple now?" the artist asked, folding her hands in her lap.
Larxene snorted derisively, but Naminé noted that the traceuse had surreptitiously glanced at Axel. "After one date? Yeah, right."
"Come on, baby," Axel grinned, wrapping an arm around the voluptuous blonde's waist. "You know you want me…"
"I wouldn't want you if you were the last man on earth," Larxene said airily, shoving the traceur away. "Even Roxas would an acceptable alternative to you."
Silence.
Then Xion's laugh cut through the air. "Ooh, burn, Axel!" the brunette traceuse cackled. "You totally suck with girls! 'Even Roxas'? Burn!"
Axel grabbed the brunette in a headlock and not very gently ground his knuckles across her scalp. "Say again, Xion?" the redhead asked in a pleasant tone, but his eyes had a dangerous glint to them.
The traceuse struggled in Axel's iron grip, beating his chest and arms with no effect. "Let go of me, you big monkey!"
"Say the magic word."
"Fuck you! Let go!"
"Fuck me? Sorry, Xion, but I prefer girls who can actually punch worth a damn."
Xion drove her fist into Axel's stomach, causing the traceur to double over and release her.
"How's that for a 'punch worth a damn', huh?"
Larxene smacked both of them across the head. "You guys!" she snapped. "Cut it out!"
"What for—"
"Naminé, you idiots! Look at her! You too, Vexen, Zexion!"
Both of them quieted as they saw the expression on the artist's tear-streaked face. Vexen and Zexion stopped their argument and turned to see why Larxene had seen fit to silence their bickering. They, too, quieted as soon as they saw the pathetic look on her face.
She'd tried so hard to put him out of her mind, tried so hard to play off his being missing as him out there having fun with his friends.
But all his and her friends were here, with her. Only he wasn't.
All of the grief, all of the fear, all of the self-pity came back, but magnified by the way she had tried so hard to bottle them up and shove them somewhere where they couldn't reach her.
Until now.
"Where is he?" Naminé choked, clenching her fists. "Where did Roxas go? Why is he missing?"
Axel traded nervous glances with Larxene.
Vexen and Zexion cast their eyes to their feet.
Xion opened her mouth, then closed it.
Nobody answered.
Xxx XXX xxX
Yes, Roxas going missing is a reference to the plot of "Shine", but Roku's reasons this time are different. I think.
I could've ended it here, but I decided not to because I'm not enough of a cruel bastard. ^^
Vanitas: Or was it because the readers might've tried to kill you?
That too.
Namine: Review, please. *sobs* Or I'll never get Roxas back...