Welcome back for Chapter 4.

Warnings: Violence, character death

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Chapter 4: Lost


Sora propped his feet up on his coffee table and folded his arms. The television was not doing a satisfactory job of lulling him off to sleep like he had hoped it would, and what was worse was that the remote was buried somewhere underneath him between the couch cushions. He grunted and shifted, trying to find it, but it seemed as if the couch was adamant about keeping the remote—and possibly a sock he had lost some time ago—to itself.

Well, this evening was starting to roll quickly downhill.

Riku had dropped him off and headed off to the makeshift fighting ring he called the harbor, and Sora had gratefully elected to throw himself to bed. Riku was starting to frustrate him, and to top it all off, the meal he had intended to be Riku's punishment had actually become his own. The pancakes did not mix well with the chili already in his stomach, and the fact that cheesecake was resting right on top left his stomach rumbling and his eyes pried open. He had decided to sit on the couch to will his stomach into peace, but a few hours into a nighttime soap opera left him just as awake and uncomfortable as he had been.

He grumbled and rolled around on the couch, shifting positions and tangling himself in the thin blanket he brought with him. Such action actually did produce the remote, so he snatched it from between the cushions before they could eat it again. Holding it to his chest, he flipped channels with record speed and waited for something interesting to strike his fancy.

More soap operas, a comedy show he had no interest in watching, and a half a dozen infomercials flashed through his field of vision before he gave up completely. He turned off the television, threw the remote back on the coffee table, and rolled over onto his back.

The room was dark now, and afterimages of the television danced in front of his eyes as they adjusted to the dark. His stomach gurgled, but aside from that, the room was silent.

Just as his room had been the night before.

Just as his room, and his living room, and his house had been every night Riku didn't come in and crash his home and ruin everything peaceful.

Maybe Riku was right, he allowed himself to mull over just for a moment. The thought that he could be made feel even more uneasy, but he forced himself to entertain it, because he was alone and no one would be around to rub it in his face.

Maybe Riku had been right about how his life was stale, how everything had become so safe around him.

His job was easy, obtained without too much effort. It required little skill and none of the adventure he had craved as a child. What happened to the days when he proclaimed that he was going to go off and be a pirate, or a stunt man for the movies, or some kind of deep-sea fisherman who went after man-sized terrors of the deep with nothing more than a harpoon and his bare hands?

Now his only adventures consisted of finding a clean pair of underwear in the morning and a shirt that could make an argument for matching his pants. What happened to all of the passion he had for life, and will to do something more?

He rolled over on the couch and fumed a little. It was obvious that Riku had stolen all of it. If Sora had any fun anymore these days, it seemed the world might fall apart. Sora had to be Riku's guardian it seemed. Their roles had switched somehow along the way, and Sora had become the responsible one.

Sora looked over at the clock on the wall, and a frown worked itself on his face. He groaned out loud and forced the blanket over his face. This would be the second time this week that Riku kept him awake past reasonable hours. Fine, if Riku wanted to be a reckless idiot, then it was none of his concern. He could go off and explore all of Mars for all it mattered to him. In the mean time, Sora would find a way to make his own fun, and it didn't matter if Riku thought he was boring either.

With that, he crammed a pillow on top of his face and forced his eyes closed. He refused to waste another minute thinking about it.


Riku cracked his knuckles as he finished loading a box onto a boat exporting material that, from what he could tell, was going to be used for the set of a horror movie. It smelled like chemicals, and if he wasn't mistaken, there was a scaly claw sticking out of a hole in one of the crates. He hoped with all his might he wasn't mistaken on that assumption. If it was going to be used for anything else…well, he rather not think about it.

He brushed his gloves off on his jeans and watched the boat disappear into the night.

It floated away quickly without so much as a horn blast or a light, and he waited patiently for another boat to take its place. While he did so though, he chose to take in the sight of the sea, the moon, and the ink-like waters that were mysterious and deep even though they were so close to land.

It was nice this evening. There was a gentle sea-salt breeze that cooled his body and dried the sweat pouring down his brow. Someone must have mopped the harbor that morning so the scent of rotting fish was somewhat less pungent that evening, which had the pleasant effect of reducing the number of insects buzzing about his ears. It was a pretty perfect evening.

He grinned. He had paid his debt to Sora, his own injuries were healing nicely, and his ribs hadn't protested nearly as much as he would have expected them to, given yesterday's festivities. There was a dull ache every now and then, but he was able to ignore it without too much of a problem. If things kept going this way, then maybe it was worth buying a lottery ticket the next afternoon…

The waves slapped against the base of the harbor, and the nearby boats. His fellow hauling-mates were lifting boxes and grunting in the distance. The white noise was pleasant and welcome, and if he hadn't been working, he might have considered sitting back to enjoy the breeze on his face and the utter perfection that was this atmosphere. If he had his way, he would make a residence here complete with a yard and a dog. There was something about the harbor, despite all its flaws, that was simply unmatched. It relaxed him in a way that his own home could not. It provided him with comfort and stability that did not exist anywhere else in his life, and on the best days, it even provided him with a source of entertainment. He knew it would take a miracle for Sora and his other friends to see the magic of this place, but he was willing to keep the mysteries of the harbor to himself, and only to himself.

The break was short though, as he could barely make out the silhouette of the next incoming boat.

It came in silently, the absence of spot light and horn made Riku suspect that there would be underhanded dealings involved, as always. The port and starboard sides were unmarked and rusted; easy to disguise—or sink—if necessary. It wasn't the first time he dealt with cargo of this nature. In fact, it was a relatively frequent occurrence—an interesting bonus to working at the night shift. So long as he kept his nose out of the contents of the crates, the process should be smooth.

The ropes were tossed to him from the bow of the boat, and he secured them to the dock quickly. As soon as it was secure, a large slab of wood was produced from somewhere and made a rudimentary looking incline for which to push the packages out of the boat. Riku rubbed his hands together and waited.

Four men seemed to be on this boat, all of them dressed in dark clothing and hats to obscure their faces and any distinguishing physical characteristics.

"You're it?" One of the men called to him, and from what Riku could tell, he had green eyes, and perhaps red hair crammed sloppily beneath a hat. "Huh."

Riku shrugged. A mental rolodex of smart remarks spun through his head, but he chose to keep them to himself and finish the job. The man in the hat just chuckled and started hefting boxes. They slid down the incline and to Riku's feet quickly, as though they were full of something heavy.

He wasted no time in getting rid of the cargo. Wheeling a nearby dolly to his left, he packed on box after box as they slid down the ramp and to his feet. Whatever had been packaged was secure. Every crate was even carefully wrapped in some kind of plastic to keep the contents from spilling out, and each end was wound in no less than a yard of packing tape.

"Warehouse A-3," one of the other men called out as he hopped off the boat. He was dressed in the same dark clothing, hair obscured by a hat, eyes blue and piercing.

Riku hadn't remembered ever seeing a warehouse labeled A-3 before, but the thought quickly vanished as assessed the man walking briskly past him. As he did his subconscious survey of his face, he noticed that there was something about it that was familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on exactly what. Whatever it was, the man didn't look too interested in offering him a better look.

He wasn't usually in the business of taking the boxes anywhere but the edge of the dock on the dolly. There was a whole section of loading crew that handled that. He merely had to stand near the boats, keep his questions minimal, and avoid falling into the water. That was it. That was how he preferred it.

He shrugged again and shook his head. "Tell that to those guys," he indicated the hulky looking men behind him, dressed in stained clothing and work gloves. "They'll take your cargo anywhere you want them to go."

The third man walked down the wooden slab with a box in his hands as well. He was a heftier looking individual with darker skin, but so much of his face was obscured that Riku could only tell via the small patch of skin that poked from the space between his sleeve and his gloves.

"We can't ask them to carry our cargo. We—oof!"

He was swiftly elbowed in the ribs by a fourth man who had rapidly slid off of the boat and onto the dock. "You aren't allowed to talk." He hissed, and took the box away from him. He looked down at Riku with a scowl and forced the box into his hands. "You're doing it, kid. The fewer people who handle it the better, if you catch my drift. We won't take 'no' for an answer, so get to it."

Riku felt uneasy about the transaction, but he felt that a large protest about the admittedly rough order of his job requirements might be more trouble than it was worth. He followed the men to around to warehouse A-3 with the dolly, noticing with some dismay that they were watching them rather closely. He assumed that whatever was in the crate was expensive and possibly extremely illegal. He had never been more thankful for his work gloves than this evening, and begrudgingly continued on.

When they had arrived, there was a large pallet off in the far right corner that had been emptied in preparation for the load, and he was to help him stack the boxes neatly onto it. The orders were a silent four-way command by all of the individuals from the ship, and he did so with mirrored silence. The sooner he finished with all of this, the sooner he could get back to appreciating the simple night sky, the mosquito-free air, and the diminished scent of chum.

As he headed back to their boat for another load, he noticed that four men had turned into six, as two more had appeared from somewhere inside the boat, all of them carrying boxes, all of them loading them onto dollies. Riku was a bit alarmed that he hadn't noticed them before, but he just ignored the feeling and hoped that the addition of two more people would just make the job go faster.

Six trips and two sore arms and legs later, the last of the haul was loaded onto the dolly and wheeled into the warehouse. Riku was sweaty, dirty, and tired of being watched like some kind of criminal, when clearly he was not the one dealing in illegal activity. He would take great satisfaction in untying that particular boat from the harbor and sending it far, far away.

As he wheeled the dolly into the warehouse for the last time, he noticed that the pack of black-clad men was actually forming a tighter vanguard around him. He felt that this was probably an indication of trouble, but ignored it for a desperate hope that maybe this particular box in the haul was full of precious, precious diamonds, and they were being extra careful.

About three minutes into that theory and it went up in smoke, as he heard the door to the warehouse slam closed, and turned around to find that he had been surrounded. Furthermore, all of them were staring at him in a you're-not-here-just-to-put-stuff-on-a-pallet kind of way. He tried not to show that he was kind of nervous about the whole thing and attempted to get past them with the dolly.

They didn't move, but in fact tightened the circle they were forming between him and the pallet.

Riku sighed.

One of them—the one who had previously been told not to speak by his colleagues started laughing rather maniacally. This was Riku's cue to start flashing back to all of the bad decisions he had made recently, and he found, to his dismay, that there were many that could have resulted in this karmic bed he had made for himself. He decided to hasten things along and wheel the dolly off to the side.

A sinking feeling filled the pit of his stomach, but .he ignored it to focus on polite formalities. "Well, all of your stuff has been carefully and safely delivered, as you can see. I really have to get back to work now so…"

"Not so fast, not so fast," another dark coat-clad man interjected. He had the eyes Riku was positive he had seen before. "Why are you so concerned with work? Don't you want to take a breather?"

"Not really, no."

"Oh come on, come on!" He said again, pulling off his gloves and pocketing them. "Don't you think that you're working too hard these days?" He reached up and pulled off his hat, revealing a shock of blond hair. "It must be hard lifting all those boxes with a broken rib and all."

It was now when Riku realized why his eyes had looked so familiar earlier. He had noticed that scar between them yesterday.

When he….

He smacked his hand to his forehead. His memory had perfect timing.

Riku had to admit he hadn't really taken Seifer's threats all that seriously the day before, but even if he did, he wouldn't have expected him to show up the next day. Any revenge fighting worth its salt was prolonged over the course of a couple of days, even a week or two. There was the added thrill of wondering if any turn could be a wrong one, an element of surprise. This was…well, this took all the sport out of it.

He folded his arms. It was no use being polite now. Clearly he was expected to take on all six of these men at once, which was, by the look of things, going to be extremely interesting. "It was cracked, thank you. And I appreciate the offer, but really, I'm good."

"Oh come now," Seifer said folding his own arms and looking every bit as though he had just won something. "Surely you didn't think I was kidding yesterday, did you?"

"I'll admit, I did sense some puffery there. Can't say I expected you to bring a party."

"Aw, but you don't look pleased."

"You'd be right. Pleased isn't the word I'd use."

"Oh really now?" Seifer practically giggled, as Rai and the others took off their gloves and hats. "Then what word would you use instead?"

"There are a lot of them," he stepped back and hoped for everything that he was worth that he would be able to take out a few of them before he inevitably wound up begging Sora for more frozen food. "But they're not really publically appropriate, so I'll keep them to myself."

"Suit yourself!" Seifer shrugged. "Since you were so kind as to help us unload all of these crates into this discrete warehouse, my friends and I would like to return the favor with a little extra. How does that sound?"

"Great."

Rai laughed again. "Serves you right, y'know? Seifer warned you yesterday. I was there. I heard him."

"Rai, shut up. Let's just get this over with. We've got to get back to headquarters before dawn."

The circle tightened, and Riku balled his fists. This was going to be a spectacular mess, but he pushed himself flat against the pallet of packages and waited for the first punch to be thrown anyway.

As expected, it came from Rai, who charged forward in much the same manner as he had the night before. Riku side stepped, but fell right into the arms of a much more muscular man with curly , reddish brown hair.

He didn't say much, the look on his face was far more telling than any words he could have possibly said. Words and facial expressions were pretty much meaningless though, since he was promptly locked in a full-nelson, and suddenly had much more pressing things to worry about. He squirmed about, but the man was built like a rock. He twisted, jabbed with his elbows, and even tried kicking him in the legs, but the man didn't even wince.

"Huh," Riku wondered out loud. This definitely had the potential to end up even worse than he thought.

As if to confirm his thoughts, the red-head from earlier punched him in the gut, then the ribs then the gut again, then finished it all off with a charming punch to his jaw. It didn't break, but he felt it swell and cursed. He was dropped to the floor, and stared bleary-eyed at the giant of a man who had held him there for the assault in the first place.

A kick found its way to his side a moment later, then another, and another, and he felt the cracked rib from earlier break, followed by two others on his left side. He couldn't breathe, but it was welcome, because every inhale felt like shards of glass were imbedding themselves into his lungs. He knew this fight was over before it even began, but he hadn't expected to fall so quickly.

The men were hovering above him; the redhead was chucking, the muscular one staring at him with disinterest, and another fellow, with long dreadlocks and sharply angled side burns—presumably the one who had kicked him—folded his arms and grinned.

Riku silently hoped that maybe, just maybe these men had a schedule to keep and had better things to do than gang up on a poor loading boy who had obviously deserved this mess. He squeezed his eyes closed and waited for the footsteps leading away, but he wasn't completely surprised when he heard footsteps heading towards him instead.

This time it was Seifer who stood above him, grinning like he had just won the lottery. "How was that, kid?"

Riku gritted his teeth. "Nothing special." His lungs protested violently, but he refused to show it.

Seifer leaned down. "No? Not to your liking? That's fine. We have plenty of other tricks you might enjoy instead. Lexaus, if you would be so kind?"

The curly haired man grunted, then grabbed him by the collar and pulled him upright.

So much for hoping for a swift and graceful end, Riku thought bitterly.

Since he knew that his chances of getting out of this without an immediate need for the emergency room were nonexistent, he supposed he might as well give the doctors a lot to practice on. Twisting to shake himself free of Lexaus' grip, he swung at his ribs two times with all his might. He succeeded in getting free, but tore his shirt in the process. It didn't matter though, because in an instant, the dreadlocked gentleman grabbed him by the hair and pilled his neck back, giving Seifer and the redhead access to his stomach and throat.

He tucked his knees up to his chest and projected his feet outward, knocking Seifer backward into the redhead, and both of them into Rai. Riku himself wished that he had the opportunity to watch, as he assumed it would have been quite comical, but Lexaus' forearm was now under his chin, and he was dangling above the ground ever so slightly.

"Ow!" Rai howled, when his back hit the ground. "Watch what you're doing, Axel. There are people standing here, y'know?"

Axel jumped up and rubbed his stomach. "Shut up!" He rushed forward, calling for some man named Luxord, and all six of them were on Riku, kicking punching, and generally inconveniencing any hope he had of being able to finish working that evening.

Or being able to walk home.

He saw stars dance behind his eyes, and there was a point when his body numbed and the impact of the blows was much more tolerable. He had a niggling suspicion that he should be concerned about what this could mean, but given that he was currently at the mercy of six sets of fists and feet, looking gift-horses in the mouth seemed dreadfully time consuming.

When they stopped, it was all Riku could do not to cry in thankfulness. He had is pride of course, but even Riku could tell when seeing the light of tomorrow might not be a reality. He could feel nothing but a dull throbbing about his body, and he was sure that if he could see, his body would be a mangled mess, broken, bruised, bloody. It just so happened though that both of his eyes were dangerously close to swelling shut, and the vague shadows and flashes of color were the only clues he had as to what was happening in the room.

"You have just about enough, kid?"

A voice that sounded like Seifer's wafted through his ears. He was panting, his voice heavy and rough. Riku couldn't respond.

"I said, 'did you have enough, kid?'"

Riku still couldn't respond, and he felt Seifer moving about, possibly lifting him up by the hair.

"I think we did good, y'know?" Rai said, also with an airiness in his voice that indicated exhaustion. "He won't try to mess with us anymore."

"Shut up!' Seifer spat, giving Riku's hair a good shake. "Xaldin, Lexaus, hold him up by the arms for me."

The two men moved wordlessly, but Rai's mouth hung open. "What are you doin' Seifer?"

"I thought I told you to shut up." Seifer cracked his knuckles and took half a step forward. "You don't just get to mess with me and then walk away. That's not how our organization does business."

Riku hovered soundlessly, relying on the blurred image of Seifer's moving lips, and the brief pockets of sound coming through to tell he was being addressed.

"Oh right," Rai grinned. "But I don't think he can walk away. We took care of that!" He gave a vague gesture to Riku's battered limbs and punctuated his statement with a nod.

Seifer ignored him and pulled his gloves back on. "I want to hear an apology."

"An apology?"

"Yes," Seifer said, closing his gloved fingers around Riku's neck. "I want to hear him say he's sorry for causing us such an inconvenient night. Don't you think that's fair?"

"Eh...okay…" Rai looked unsure of what was happening and looked around the faces of his comrades. Xaldin, Lexaus and Luxord looked largely disinterested, and Axel rolled his eyes.

"But Seifer," Rai muttered.

"Quiet!" Seifer hissed. "I want to be able to hear." He squeezed his hand and felt Riku's throat constrict under his fingers. "You've messed with some of the most powerful men in the universe. The Organization is not a group that shows people like you mercy. You might be fortunate enough to be granted one of our rare excuses from an immediate end. Say you're sorry."

Riku felt the air cut off, and his vision danced between blurred colors to solid gray. Had he the strength to move he might have successfully been able to at least buy himself a few extra minutes to breathe, but Lexaus and Xaldin held his arms steady. He felt blood from a punctured lung surging up his throat, but it stopped at the base of Seifers fingers, just where the air did.

"I can't hear you," Seifer said squeezing tighter. "Where's my apology? Don't tell me you want me to beat it out of you."

"Eh, Seifer," Rai said quietly, his expression sheepish.

"Will you shut up?!" He roared, forcing Rai to shrink back. "I'm busy!" He turned back to Riku. "Apologize!"

Riku's lungs burned. His heart thudded loudly against his cracked ribs, pumping blood out of wounds littering his body, and pushing it up his throat. It was an agony much worse than the moments before when he was bouncing between clenched fists and sharp boots, because here, he was helpless against the limitations of his own body. Punches could be blocked, and bruises would heal, but no amount of physical strength could stave off the impending result of oxygen-starved lungs.

The grayness before his eyes darkened, and he could feel his throat struggling beneath the fingers around his throat. Seifer was shouting at him, but he was becoming deaf to it, the sound of his own heartbeat loud and overbearing. His body felt hot, like molten rock quivering beneath the surface of a volcano.

And then the volcano exploded.

And suddenly, the heat was swept away.

And he was left with a cold, dark emptiness unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Seifer shook Riku at the neck a bit, and was practically foaming at the mouth at his lack of response. "Did you hear me you little brat? I said apologize! I want to hear you beg for forgiveness!"

Rai whispered Seifer's name again to get his attention, but Seifer nearly punched him. "I told you to keep your mouth shut! If you bother me one more time, you'll be in the same position as this brat!"

"But S—" Rai clamped his own hand over his mouth and looked pitifully at Axel.

Axel pinched the bridge of his nose and rolled his eyes. "Seifer…"

"Don't you start bothering me, either!'

Axel narrowed his eyes. "Are you threatening me? I will clean this floor with your face."

Seifer seemed to reconsider his previous outburst and shot a glance backward. "Yes Axel?"

"Much better. Did you ever stop to think, just for a moment, why he isn't apologizing to you?"

Seifer's eyebrow twitched at being spoken to in such a manner, but he forced words he considered to be obvious through his teeth. "Because he's a sniveling bastard!"

"No," Axel said slowly, as though he were speaking to a child. "Although you yourself have proven to be the face of maturity and decorum after organizing a six-on-one fight in the middle of the night at the harbor."

Seifer felt a vein in his forehead throb. "You didn't seem to have a problem with it!"

Axel rolled his eyes. "Think a little harder, Seifer. I know you can do it."

Seifer glanced back at Riku, who's neck had sagged backward. His eyes were closed. "What? Did someone punch him in the ear? Can he not hear me?"

Axel slapped his hand over his forehead and walked over to where he, Lexaus, and Xaldin were standing. He gestured to Riku. "What's the problem here?"

"He's not answering me."

"Right. Where is your hand?"

"Around his neck. I'm punishing him." He said matter-of-fact, eyebrows kitted in confusion.

Axel nodded slowly. "Right. Around his neck. And what's in his neck?"

"His throat.?"

"Very good, Seifer. What's important about a throat?"

Seifer felt his neck heating up, frustration setting in. "Um…well…lots of things I guess."

"Go ahead and name a few."

"Eating?"

"And?"

"Breathing?"

Axel clapped his hands together. "Excellent! One more, and you'll get a sticker. If you have your hand around his throat, he probably can't breathe or talk, which would mean what?"

Seifer coughed. "…Um…what?"

"That you are the reason he's not apologizing to you!" Axel roared, nearly scaring Seifer out of his skin.

Seifer slowly shifted his gaze from the fuming Axel to the lifeless Riku and unclenched his fingers. He supposed in all his rage he had forgotten about that…

With Axel's narrowed eyes on him, he slowly unclenched his fingers, and winced at the bruising he had caused. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and put his hands on his hips. "Well, erm…well anyway, now you can apologize to me. We've had quite the night because of your antics, and I think it would be…uh…appropriate."

Riku didn't move.

Seifer cleared his throat again. "I said 'now you can apologize.'"

Riku remained motionless.

Seifer glanced nervously about the faces of his cohort, each of which had identical looks of impatience, save for Rai, who looked a mixture of confused and scared, and Axel who looked downright homicidal.

Seifer tentatively poked Riku's shoulder, and waited for something, anything, to happen, but he remained motionless, and a feeling of dread crept up Seifer's spine.

"Great," Axel muttered. "You've killed him."

"I did not!" He snapped, his mind reeling with worry for a potential mistake he may have made. He clenched his fists nervously and ordered Lexaus and Xaldin to put him on the ground. Riku's body kind of slumped there, reminding him of a towel dropping to the floor. If he had indeed killed him, then he would be in a world of trouble once he got back to headquarters.

He cleared his throat again and bent down to feel for a pulse, hoping with all his might that he had simply gotten a little carried away, but nothing distinctly bad would happen. There would be a pulse, and the six of them could just sail away into the darkness as they had planned to do all evening.

A quick search yielded that the little fantasy was just that, and that maybe, he would have to prepare for that world of trouble he was soon to be in.

There was no pulse.

Seifer gulped hard and jumped back, nearly sitting on Axel's foot. Xaldin and Lexaus grumbled something unintelligible, Luxord began heading for the door, Axel merely shook his head in irritation, and Rai started nervously chewing his fingernails.

"What are we going to do now, Seifer? He's dead, y'know?"

"I know!" Seifer bellowed. "I…um, I meant to do this. Now you all have to help me hide the body!"

Rai's face drained of color, and the rest groaned in unison.

Luxord, however, was already near the garage door. "I didn't sign up for this. I'll be on the boat when you all are finished. Later." He waved half heartedly and lifted the door just enough to slip through it.

Seifer swallowed again. "We don't need him. This won't take but a few minutes. If you all just help me drag him someplace, we can—"

Axel shook his head and started to head for the door as well, followed by Lexaus and Xaldin. "This wasn't my fault. I came here as a favor, so I refuse to get reamed for your screw up. You have ten minutes, or you're swimming back." Luxord and Xaldin grumbled in affirmation, and all three of them slipped through the door, just as Luxord had.

Rai was alone, standing with his knees buckled and his hands shaking.

Seifer frowned. "Well, let's get to it then. We don't have all day."

"I'd rather not, y'know? I mean, we—"

"Did I stutter? Help me put him someplace."

Rai's face drained of more color, if that was even possible, but the fear of being harmed convinced him that he had better ignore his fears and help. He wiped his hands off on his pants and put his gloves back on.

"Seifer," He whispered, grabbing for Riku's feet. "This is bad, y'know?"

Seifer ignored the rapid thrumming of his own heart, and the iciness that raced through his veins. Instead he grabbed Riku's wrists and heaved him upward. "Shut up and lift."

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