CHAPTER SIXTEEN: NATIVE
"Oh, I've never been so far from home
Taking my chances and we both know
Just give it a chance now
You'll never know
I'm no native."
"Natïve" - Lisbon
Now would've been a good time to get a handle on himself. After a mad dash to the car, sneakers splashing through muddy rain puddles, hoodie pulled over his head, all of which were pretty ineffectual, Riku found himself realizing something else: learning how to turn on the car's windshield wipers might also be helpful.
He'd woken hours earlier to a sound he was all too familiar with, but the dregs of a fitful night's rest had kept him from initially identifying it. It'd taken a few seconds of concerted blinks and eye rubbing, plus a joint-cracking, full-body stretch that was soon followed by a trip to his bedroom window, before he was fully aware that it was raining.
'Spring showers' was a phrase he knew from books, but one that he had little first-hand knowledge of. Winter was San Francisco's wet season; by Spring, the city was a compromise of fog and California's definition of cold, which wasn't very.
He'd headed for his closet in search of a viable outfit, found himself stuck between clothes he thought looked good on him and those that were more weather-appropriate. With a chiding reminder that Sora probably wouldn't comment on anything he chose unless it was something that screamed clueless-West Coast, Riku dug out a t-shirt, his hooded Stanford zip-up, and a pair of dark jeans. He still hadn't had time to buy shorts, inclement weather notwithstanding.
Then it was all about surviving breakfast with his parents, a few polite but vague answers to inquiries about his plans for the day, and Riku was out the door and making a run for the car a solid half an hour before he actually needed to be anywhere.
His chances of being late rounded out around nil, even if he took a few wrong turns. Getting lost in a town like Radiant Hollow would've taken considerable skill on his part.
Now Riku had to contend with the inarguable fact that his eagerness to leave had gotten him to Sora's a solid twenty minutes early.
A logical person would have texted to see if Sora was cool with being picked up sooner than planned. A logical person might have called their parents to see if they wanted him to run a quick errand while he had still had time to kill.
But logic had quickly morphed into a stage performance of epic proportions, its opening act set in a first year foreign language class. If Riku was playing the role of ignorant student, Sora most certainly starred as a newly learned verb, one that didn't even remotely follow the standard rules of conjugation. For Riku, Sora was still hard to parse.
As the Strife's house came into view, Riku thrummed his fingers against the leather steering wheel, then made a wide-arced U-turn. In better weather, he might have parked one street up and explored the neighborhood on foot. With the rain forming a torrential wall in front of him, trolling down street after street seemed his only alternative.
Not the most rational idea he'd ever come up with, but Riku had already admitted defeat to logic-based decision-making.
He turned at the end of the block, driving at a pace that allowed him to study each house that he passed. Most of them looked like Sora's, with the one notable, exception that they lacked a wheelchair ramp. Each was situated on a patch of unkempt land that still amounted to little sprawling luxuries compared to most side-by-side San Francisco properties. Belongings were on haphazard display in most front yards too, rusty bikes leaning up against sagging and crooked fence posts, ratty old couches peeking out from under porch awnings, even an above-ground swimming pool on a corner lot, with sagging plastic edges overflowing with scummy rain water that had trickled down from a rusty roof gutter.
And flags. While most porches bore them proudly, the recognizable design of stars and stripes was almost outnumbered by those emblazoned with the more ominous crisscross pattern of the Confederacy. More ambitious properties displayed both.
He killed seven minutes dedicated to this form of time-wasting, laid five more to rest before he realized he was no longer the only one performing this act of clandestine surveillance. Someone was watching him from a picture window of the house he was currently idling in front of: a man, arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on Riku, expression set and deeply suspicious.
It prickled the back of his neck, the knowledge that someone was studying him the same way he'd been looking out from behind his own rain-speckled windshield. It also made him feel like he was doing something illicit. Riku pressed his foot to the gas and was quick to move on, only slowing back to a more leisurely speed when he had turned fully onto the next street.
Yet the longer he remained on these neighborhood roads, the more he noticed others materializing, through rain-misted windows and framed by front porch screen doors. All eyed him with expressions on a spectrum ranging from curious to unconcealed suspicion.
Tables turned, he guessed. Unsettling, most definitely.
It wasn't until a woman actually exited her house, the long muzzle of a rifle held between loose but deft fingers, that Riku beat a hasty retreat and angled the car back in the direction of the Strife's colonial.
He parked along the cracked curb, cut the ignition, and sprinted for cover beneath the porch. By the time he was fully sheltered from the downpour, his hair was dripping. Riku took a moment to shake his head, resorting to wringing out handfuls at a time when that proved ineffective.
Throughout this process, a pair of eyes watched, wholly unbeknownst to him until they announced their presence via the inharmonious protest of a rusty screen door.
In a matter of seconds, two sets of eyes met, and Riku found himself squinting at the silhouette of a woman still more than half hidden behind screen door lattice.
For one long moment, she studied him, eyes moving over his clothing in a way Riku was familiar with by now. From there, they shifted over his shoulder, to the Mercedes parked as close to the crumbling curb as he'd been able to manage, which wasn't very.
"If you're out in this mess tryin' to sell something, I'm afraid we aren't in a position to be buying."
The comment was offered matter-of-factly, without so much as an ounce of malice. Nevertheless, her heavy accent threw him off. It took a few seconds to silently repeat the words, look from his clothes to the car, and come to the conclusion she'd quickly arrived at based on all that he'd given her to visually interpret.
"I'm actually here to see Sora." He took a step forward, then stopped as the door's already slim opening began to narrow. "To, um, pick him up."
Still no response. Much to Riku's relief, the door stayed open a sliver as the woman continued to consider him.
"To go to study at the library," he tried again, this time speaking slower in case she was having similar trouble understanding his own diction. "We're classmates."
The door opened wider, revealing tired blue eyes and dishwater blonde hair. Once again, her gaze flickered over his shoulder.
"You're takin' him in that piece of work?"
She inclined her head toward the Mercedes.
"Um," Riku said again. "Yes?"
She said nothing else, just continued to study him and the car as the rain pounded a steady beat against the porch's aluminum roof.
"It belongs to my parents." Sensing disapproval—or at least healthy skepticism—a sudden wave of nerves broke, then coursed through him. "I have permission to use it."
She blinked, then glanced back to him. Riku might have imagined it, but for a split second her lips seemed to twitch upward as though in amusement.
"Come on in, then." She opened the door wider and stepped back, waiting for Riku to follow her. The moment he took a step forward, she turned and ambled further into the house, craning her neck over one shoulder. "No point in staying out in the rain looking like a half-drowned rat. It'll give folks the wrong impression."
Yeah. Wouldn't want that…
The room he entered was dimly lit, although that was partially thanks to the overcast sky outside. The single, drab standing lamp also played a supporting role; located in a corner on one side of the fireplace mantle, it wasn't even close to bright enough to light the whole room. A musty smell also permeated the space; it brought back childhood memories of trips to Kyoto to see his great grandmother, of unwanted, old woman kisses, and dated, plastic-lined furniture.
He sensed eyes on him once more, kept his expression impassive as he met the gaze of Sora's mother. She hadn't introduced herself as such, something that felt rude-bordering-on-sacrilegious to someone who had grown up in a hierarchical extended household, but Riku could fill in the blanks on his own and he tried not to let it bother him.
When in Rome, right? Or Radiant Hollow, in this case.
She came to a stop at the foot of an L-shaped staircase, cleared her throat, and effectively broke the promise of another uncomfortable silence before it could settle.
"Make yourself comfortable." She flicked a wrist at the crescent of living room chairs. "I'll go see what that boy's up to, let him know he's got a visitor."
Maybe he should've listened and taken a seat on one of the eighty's greatest reclining hits, but Riku found his attention directed back to the mantle. A few steps forward and he was in front of it and a row of photos, situated just under eye-level. Though dim everywhere else in the room, the lamp shone on the framed images like a spotlight.
His heart skipped a beat as he spotted one of Sora, nerves supplemented by the sound of muffled voices and shuffling on the floor above him. Riku held his breath, eyes shifting to the stairs. When no one seemed primed to make an immediate appearance, Riku redirected his attention to its prior point of focus.
He recognized one of the photos from Facebook, with four boys in front of their home. He took a moment to consider the pair who weren't as familiar, before moving on to the photos next to it. Most depicted some variation of the boys in the first frame, the most unexpected being an action shot of Roxas sporting a varsity track uniform. Only the right-most photo showed new people—or at least a two-thirds majority of unfamiliar faces. One of the three looked like Roxas, but the photo itself had a yellow tint around its edges and seemed older than the others.
Maybe not Roxas, then.
Riku took a small step forward, eyes still aimed at the image with a certain amount of tunnel vision. This was probably why he didn't hear the floorboards creak above him anymore than he noticed that Sora's mom had reappeared a couple steps down from the top of the stairs.
"He'll be down in a minute. Says you got here early."
Riku started, upper body jerking a little. Heat crept up his neck and the room's dim lighting suddenly felt more like a safeguard than it did a hindrance.
She took one step at a time, not bothering to use the railing for balance even though the stairs seemed like the precise definition of a domestic safety hazard. Unsure if she was waiting for him to say something, Riku decided to keep quiet and try not to do anything more to embarrass himself. He shifted his weight between feet, then stole another look back at the photo he'd been studying as she passed between the half-circle of furniture and a boxy television on her way over to him.
"They grow up real fast. God's truth."
Not waiting for a response, Riku watched out of the corner of one eye as the woman rotated the photo frame next to the one he'd been looking at so it more closely aligned with the others. Her fingers took with them a layer of dust, and Riku noted the frame's true color, a fake yellow-gold that had so recently looked much more like middling copper.
She sighed, eyes shifting to the right-most frame. There they lingered. When she next spoke, her tone sounded wistful.
"Some of 'em, anyway."
Before Riku could ask for clarification, she turned back to him and changed the subject.
"Remind me—what's your name? I'm sure I got told at some point, but it's escaping me."
He took care to pronounce both syllables, then waited for her expression to shift from curious to puzzled.
It didn't.
"Riku," she said, maintaining a look of mild interest. "Well, that's different."
Riku swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable. Between teachers and classmates, he'd been through this a full armload already. It was the first time he found himself in the position of having a conversation about his family's background in front of Sora's mother, however.
"Yeah." He nodded stiffly. "It's Asian."
Oh, he had not just said that.
And yet, there it was, a quick slip of the tongue. Hayner would be proud. Or maybe just vindicated that he'd managed to fall from his own, self-imposed throne in a matter of minutes in the midst of an awkward situation.
Before Riku could redeem himself, a familiar voice called out and did it for him.
"Japanese, actually."
Two heads turned in unison. Riku's eyes rose until he spotted Sora at the top of the stairs, shoulders hunched and head ducked so he could see under the ceiling overhang. He was grinning.
Sora's mom didn't respond directly, just made a low humming sound as she turned and headed in the opposite direction.
"Gonna go make some lunch" she called. "Y'all want anything? Drinks, maybe? Pretty sure we still got some coffee."
Riku shook his head in tandem with Sora's uttered 'no thanks'. He watched Sora make his way down the stairs weighed further by a heavy-looking backpack, and found himself fighting the same urge to offer a hand that he'd battled with yesterday. He couldn't help but feel a little useless as he stood still and waited, gaze moving away from Sora's face and to his crutches—which, Riku now realized, were different from the ones Sora had sported at school all last week. These looked more industrial than the other pair of rubber and wood. With grooved handles and curved arm supports, this set of crutches seemed indelible to Riku, indicative of something more permanent.
It wasn't until Sora cleared the last step and nearly halved the distance between them that Riku got the nerve to fully look up and realize something else was different. The over-sized shoes were familiar, at least, and the fronts of both feet peeked out beneath Sora's trademark baggy jeans. It was his shirt that stood out. Compared to Sora's usual choice of loud primary colors, the charcoal gray v-neck he was wearing today was understated.
It was also more form-fitting than anything he usually wore to school. The fabric tapered at his hips, offering a hint of more natural lines that were unnoticeable in the shirts Sora was typically swimming in. Rather than rounded, the neckline formed a modest V, and the collar bones beneath each shoulder showed more prominently with each hobbled movement. Riku was in for another surprise when he finally hazarded a glance further upward, because Sora's hair was also neatly styled instead of its usual unruly and tousled.
Just. Wow.
Sora stopped in front of him, then looked up. The smile he offered was small, but genuine.
"Hi."
"Hi," Riku returned, feeling all the more self-conscious at his own rain-soaked appearance.
But Sora. Sora was a sight. And maybe pointing that out would keep his attention directed elsewhere.
"You look…"
How did he say this without sounding lame?
"…different."
Good. Nice. Cute. Even 'rested' would've worked. Different? Could totally be a veiled insult. Come to think, it probably had been from Sora's mother.
Dumb. Awkward. Embarrassing. His internal narrative pressed on, as though pleased with the fresh influx of self-deprecating vocabulary. At least someone was happy.
Just, where was a gaping sinkhole when he actually needed one?
Back in a marshland swamp full of clay that stained something awful and didn't 'wash outta nothing', his mind taunted. Probably.
Through all this, Riku saw Sora look down. He leaned over to one side, balancing on a single crutch as he moved to tug at the bottom of his shirt. Caught between his back and book bag, it had ridden up a little.
"It belongs to Roxas." Sora's voice was lower than usual. "Thought I'd try something new since it's the weekend and all."
It looks really good on you, Riku's mind offered up as a suitable reply.
"Oh, okay," was what his mouth ultimately supplied.
Awkward living room conversation: 1; Smooth, keeping-it-cool Riku: one big, fat 0.
Why this all felt so strained was beyond him. After all their budding friendship had been through, shouldn't this be a whole lot easier?
When Sora didn't rush to say anything, Riku turned back to the mantle and silently thought up a few unforgivingly choice words about himself.
"Hard to believe it's been three years already…"
Riku glanced at Sora, then followed his gaze back to the photo he'd first seen on Facebook.
"My brother graduated a few hours earlier. We'd just gotten home from the ceremony." Sora pointed to the boy seated next to him in the photo as his smile became rueful. "Ven was going through this weird emo phase. Dyed his hair black, got his hands on these creepy yellow contacts, and insisted on being called some made-up name he thought sounded cool. Glad that's over and done with. It was ten months of ridiculous but then he dropped it and was back to normal by college."
For a moment, Riku said nothing as he studied the photo. He looked at the boy Sora'd called Ven who he remembered had been tagged as 'Ventus Strife' online before his gaze drifted upward, first to Roxas, then to the older guy beside him.
"And that is…?"
He trailed off and pointed a finger at the only person in the photo he didn't yet know the name of.
"My older brother Cloud," Sora offered. "Mom had a thing for nature names, though by the time she got to me and Roxas she figured out how to be a little more understated."
"Yeah, I'd wondered about that, actually."
"Well then, you've just solved one mystery." Riku was rewarded with an amused smile beside him. "And, see? All you had to do is ask."
The refrigerator door opened out of sight one room over. Riku listened to the sound of rummaging as he shifted his attention over a few pictures.
"Is that Cloud, too?" He pointed at the older-looking photo he'd been eyeing earlier. "I thought it might be Roxas but I didn't recognize those other guys."
The fridge door closed. The sound of another appliance door opening soon followed.
"Sure is, when he was a junior." He'd probably seen the photo a million times over, but Sora hobbled a couple inches closer anyway. "And Leon and Zack. They were best friends all through high school, except Zack would've been a senior. He was a year older."
Mouth still slightly open, Sora's brow furrowed and he looked down again. Before Riku could ask what was up, Sora moved away from him.
"Ready to go?"
Without a word, Riku nodded.
"Better get a move on, then." Sora's expression relaxed as he headed for the door, his usual smile settling in again. "The library waits for no one."
o - o
You there?
Neku's IM status was gray, a silent answer to a stupid question, but Riku was getting desperate. He'd run out of work ten minutes earlier, was now without options, except for the obvious. That involved looking up and across the table, maybe even initiating a conversation with Sora.
The dropdown's done, he keyed in instead. And I did some tweaking w/ the login.
It should've been easy, because the study room Sora had led him to allowed them to talk in normal voices, without the threat of an overzealous librarian hanging over them. A quick look up was all it took for Riku to lose his nerve. Sora was still absorbed in a rising pile of textbooks.
So he'd worked on the web app, had fiddled around with code on his laptop, googled tips, and tried to watch online tutorials, no easy feat on the library's weak wifi signal. Once or twice, Sora had pushed back his chair and Riku would glance up, trying not to look too eager. Each time, he'd been greeted with a smile as Sora reached for his backpack and crutches on his way out of the room. He'd return within minutes, only to take a seat again as he rummaged through his bag for the books he'd brought back with him. He'd settle back down, flip through one book, then others, take the occasional note on a yellow pad of paper, leaving Riku to pick up where he'd left off and try another string of code that got him one step closer to a finished product.
This was a good example of why people snapped and lost all evidence of sanity in public, as far as Riku was concerned.
He gave Neku three generous minutes before pushing the files live, then refreshed his connection to see the changes.
Except, he'd been logged out of the admin account. That was weird.
Riku didn't look up this time as Sora headed off to the stacks for the fourth time in ninety minutes. He keyed in his credentials and clicked the enter button.
No dice. Just two lines of a red error text.
He couldn't be sure how much time passed before the familiar sound of crutches filtered back to him. During that time, regardless of length, Riku had come to two rather alarming conclusions:
One, he'd forgotten to save a file with just the dropdown code before messing with the login's security. There was no way that he could gauge to untangle the two features from one another. Sloppy coding at its finest, and all because he'd been distracted.
Two, Neku wouldn't be thrilled about not being able to log in or see any of the countless hours of work they'd put into this. It was probably a good thing he wasn't online at the moment.
"Everything alright?"
Riku looked up and saw Sora watching him from across the table.
"Yeah." He sucked in a breath, let it out in a rush, and tried to relax. "Why?"
At first, Sora said nothing, just tilted his head, brows approaching the bridge of his nose.
"You seemed a bit tense, is all," he finally offered.
That was an understatement.
Shaking his head, Riku looked down at the dual-paned mess of browser and coded text.
"I think I just screwed up on something my friend and I have been working pretty hard on for …awhile now. Yeah."
He heard the muffled sound of a closing book, the scrape of a chair, then crutches. Riku held his breath as Sora passed. This time, Sora didn't head back over to the study room door; he angled himself to Riku's side of the table, then paused in front of the empty chair to his right.
"You mind?"
Riku scooted over to give Sora enough space to slide into the adjacent chair. All that separated them now was his computer and a few minuscule inches that were bridged by the faint smell of something floral. Lavender, Riku guessed. And maybe a hint of camphor.
His tongue felt suddenly thick in his mouth; Sora's proximity was making it hard to swallow, even though he seemed not to notice the effect his presence was having. Sora sat, leaned his crutches against the closest wall, then studied the computer screen between them.
"You're making a website?"
Riku's gaze skittered between his laptop and Sora.
"Not …exactly."
Now Sora was looking directly at him, waiting for him to supplement. Riku forced himself to swallow with what felt like undue effort.
"It's a web app."
Sora continued to look at him with an interested expression, silent encouragement to continue.
"My friend and I wanted a way to keep track of concert dates in the Bay. The smaller, indie bands are hard to keep up with, so this app would let other people log in and add details about shows they hear about. Then there'd be the option for other users, or even the band itself, to confirm the details on individual entries. And …yeah." Riku forced himself to stop before he spent an hour rambling about the app's minutiae. "That's the basic idea."
Sora glanced at Riku, then back at the laptop.
"And that text?"
He pointed toward the editing panel on the laptop screen's left.
"Code," Riku offered in a subdued tone. He wasn't sure how Sora would take to being corrected.
"Right." Sora nodded, but kept his eyes on the screen. "So that code makes an app you can see on the Internet?"
"I mean, there needs to be some front-end design elements but my friend's dealing with that. So, yeah, pretty much. You've got it right." Riku swiped a hand through his hair. "But only if I'm not screwing it up so much it's practically useless. It's going to take awhile to fix because I didn't save each change separately. I usually keep better track of things."
"That sounds complicated." Sora offered a thoughtful look. "So, this is all a lead-up to a computer science major in college?"
"What? No. No way." From the surprised look on Sora's face, his response had been unnecessarily sharp. Riku made sure to tone himself down a little as he continued. "I'll be Pre-Med so I'll probably major in chemistry or biology or something."
"Oh."
Now Sora just looked puzzled, which threw him off a little. When Riku took a moment to think about it though, it made more sense. He'd always done well in his math and science classes, but Sora didn't know this any more than he was aware of the Kimura family's expectations for his future in medicine. Having found himself ahead in most Radiant High classes, he was also usually doodling diagrams related to his web app in study hall. Sora must have noticed this. The fact that Riku would rather be working on coding projects didn't mean much since he'd had both his career and the academic trajectory to it planned out by others since preschool, maybe even before. His mother was thorough.
Now he was definitely seeing the disparity between the assumptions Sora had made about his interests and the words he'd just spoken, but Riku wasn't ready to scrutinize further. He cleared his throat, swallowed down his lingering doubt, and forged on before Sora could ask him more probing questions he wasn't prepared to answer or really even think about yet.
"What about you? Are you planning to study…" He looked across the table to the mountain of books Sora had compiled, homing in on one with a wide spine and the easiest-to-read title. "…uh, French?"
A quick shrug, and Sora leaned forward to reach for the book, which Riku could now see was a dictionary. The action drew Sora's shirt sleeve further up his arm, revealing skin above his elbow—along with a line of flesh different from the rest of his arm's natural pigmentation.
Never bothered counting the scars…
"I finished the only foreign language Radiant High offers by 10th grade. It was Spanish." Riku heard Sora as though from a distance, eyes following the hardbound as Sora pulled it closer, mind revisiting the talk they'd had Thursday. "Kairi would've probably been amenable to helping me practice, but she's so busy with her own stuff I didn't want to ask her."
One thumb slipped under the dictionary cover, and Riku found himself fixated on the four cuticles of Sora's fingers that were still visible.
…they're a lot easier to keep track of, seeing as how they'll be with me forever.
"Our school doesn't have a whole lot of electives outside of sports, and no AP courses. If there's something else I want to learn, I'm usually on my own. But anyway," Sora straightened, eyes still on the dictionary, "I'm not sure what I want to do after college. Maybe teach? I know I'd like to travel. See things. I've only been out of Louisiana once."
"Seriously?"
The question was out before he'd had a chance to think about whether it might be rude, but Sora just nodded.
"I mean, we go to Traverse a lot for medical appointments, sometimes even bigger cities if I'm referred to a specialist. But those aren't exactly vacations, you know?"
As Riku nodded, a damning sampling of the Kimura family's most recent excursions surfaced. Multi-country European holidays, trips to Asia to visit family, and frequent drives out to his parents' second house on Lake Tahoe: these were standard trips. Routine to the point of mundanity. Riku tried to imagine a world even just limited to Northern California but found he couldn't. There was no point of reference; his experiences had been too different.
"We've gone to Mississippi," Sora's voice pierced his thoughts. "Cloud took us to the Gulf once when he got a weekend off work. The beaches there looked the same as here, but we had fun so that's gotta count for something."
Sora seemed like he was waiting for Riku to agree, or at least say something, but Riku worried that any direct response would be half-hearted. Worse, it might lead to questions about places he'd visited, just about the last thing he wanted at the moment.
"Most colleges have study abroad programs," he said instead.
"Oh, I know." But Sora looked down, and his shoulders rounded. "They just aren't cheap and I'm not sure it'd be such a great idea anyway. I'd have to be careful about my health stuff, for one, and any place I stayed would have to be handicap accessible. That might narrow my options a little."
It felt like a nonchalant comment, but its candidness struck Riku hard. A quick glance to his right, and the v-neck that had initially looked so nice and form-fitting now seemed to outline the frame of someone years younger, and impoverished.
The unfairness of it all starkly stood out. It wasn't just that he was healthy and Sora wasn't. Riku had also taken for granted growing up without having to worry about money. Extravagant vacations, prestigious and pricy high schools that'd helped get him accepted to an even more prestigious and even pricier university: this all added up to never having considered he was lucky compared to others. With friends and relatives all in a financial position similar to his, he'd never really had to.
Sora still wasn't looking at him, his eyes fixed on an indistinct part of the wall across from them. He didn't look outwardly upset, but Riku wasn't totally oblivious to the tension that made his jaw a little more prominent, or the slight furrowing of brows, made all the more visible by virtue of Sora's neatly combed hairstyle. Something was at least a little off.
Without thinking, Riku leaned forward and placed his hand on Sora's arm.
"I think you'd make a good teacher." He paused as Sora glanced up at him. "I mean, you've been doing a pretty decent job instructing me how not to make too much of a fool of myself since I got here, and that takes some skill."
He smiled to show he was joking, but Sora didn't return it. He just kept looking at Riku with that same, unreadable expression. Then, Sora inhaled. It was only a small movement, the slight expanding of a narrow chest that triggered a subtle chain reaction of movement from his shoulders, then downward. Riku felt it from their ongoing connection—one he was quick to realize was something he himself had started.
He pulled away in an almost spasmodic motion.
"Sorry."
It was Riku's turn to look down, the apology mumbled. He turned his attention to his laptop, pulled it closer, then studied a point on the right side of the spacebar made smooth by repeated thumbing. Anything would do, as long as it kept his mind off what'd just happened.
"It's okay. I …liked it."
Although Sora's voice was quiet, it sent an electric jolt down Riku's spine. If his tone was a small spark, the words' meaning was lightning.
He stole a glance to his right, one just long enough to see a small smile. Just as quickly, his eyes shot back to the laptop screen, cheeks mutinously flushing.
Exhilaration came next. It was followed by a queasy feeling.
No. That wasn't quite right. His stomach was turning and tumbling over itself, yes, distributing a rush of adrenaline out to the rest of his limbs, but it felt pleasant. Kind of. It was a tenuous sort of balance.
But, liked it. Sora'd said he liked it. Which meant maybe, quite possibly, Sora liked him? Or was he just being nice, a product of learned politeness, as mandated by the tenets of Southern social conduct?
With questions like this, Riku could see how this new, nervy feeling could quickly end up shifting from nice to outright nauseating.
"You hungry?"
Sora's voice pulled Riku away from his internal guesswork. Still not trusting himself, Riku shrugged and half-nodded.
Assuming I don't throw up on your feet over what you just said before we leave the building.
A browser tab blinked with a new instant message. More focused on Sora than his computer now, Riku moused over the tab, pulled it up, but didn't read it.
"I was gonna stop by the Coliseum and say hi to Kairi. She's working there all afternoon and might like some company."
The fluttering feeling slowed in Riku's chest, then took a sharp turn away from nice. This was not the way he wanted to leave things. Knowing himself all too well, Riku would just spend the next day and most of Monday over-analyzing everything about this exchange, until he turned up an emotional mess by study hall, one whose only foreseeable line of defense would be ignoring Sora in a single-minded attempt at misguided self-preservation.
There was a pause on Sora's end as Riku said nothing, didn't even look over at him. He just stared forward at his blinking screen, mouth dry, eyes unseeing.
"Would you wanna go with? To have a lunch—" Sora faltered and Riku silently filled in the final word before Sora amended. "To grab some food together?"
There it was again, that quiet, uncertain tone. It implied something Riku recognized, something he was feeling himself, if he was interpreting it properly.
Even then, he felt hesitant, worried he was reading too much into this entire conversation. Back home, this wouldn't have been all that simple either, but at least he'd have been more sure about where it was going. This place and its people were so different, their social conventions still more or less foreign.
He didn't want to spend Sunday freaking out, or end up distracted and worried all day Monday. Even if this really was nothing, he didn't have much to lose by accepting—not too much anyway, since Seifer had already done a number on his pride. And regardless of intent, Riku figured, he and Sora could still be friends.
"The Coliseum," Riku said. "That sounds cool. I'm in."
Sora's smile returned in force.
"You'll like it, promise! Just give me a sec."
As Sora pushed away from the table and collected his stuff, Riku's eyes were once again drawn back to his computer, Neku's string of messages in particular.
hey, wtf did you do to the login?
That hadn't taken long, Riku noted.
u there?
Right. Because it'd been a few minutes since the first message. The conversation with Sora had distracted him.
answer or you're dead to me. i'm serious. i'll kill u.
Neku's final message was followed by a small army of incensed emojis. For once, Riku was grateful for the two thousand miles of physical distance that separated them.
"Okay, all set."
The statement was followed by the zipping of a backpack. As Sora returned to his side, Riku snapped his laptop closed and slipped it into his own bag. A response to Neku would have to wait.
Sora was still smiling as he looked up at him. The rain was still pattering a harsh rhythm against the ceiling above them. And Riku was about to embark on a lunch date.
Maybe.
The circumstances weren't perfect, and he still had a lot of questions. Some definite hesitations. Nevertheless, Riku thought as he followed Sora toward the library exit, this was a start. Some might even call it progress.
o - o
The Coliseum was not a restaurant as Riku had assumed. It was an assortment of trailers encircling a common outdoor space in a lot at the outskirts of town not all that far from the marshes. To the untrained eye, it was nothing to write home about, unless you had a serious interest in pre-fab construction.
Some buildings were larger and better maintained than others, but there didn't seem to be much logic behind their placement within the ring of trailers. Riku let Sora direct him to what passed for a parking spot at the far end of a row of muddy vehicles, then eyed the canvass tarp strung up from each trailer and across the space's center—or what he could see of it through the downpour. The makeshift overhang was supported by poles, cords, and looped rope, and offered visitors a dry place to congregate. Between the blur of two windshield wipers, the settings of which he'd finally mastered, Riku could see that this was just what the few people present seemed to be doing.
He cracked the car door, preparing to make a run for it, but stopped as he realized Sora wouldn't be able to keep up. Through the torrent, he could hear music, twangy and resonating from the edge of the clearing. If he squinted, Riku could just make out a woman along with the guitar she was strumming. She was perched on the edge of raised platform, bounded by others who seemed to be setting up stereo equipment.
"Ready?"
Riku heard a clack of two crutches connecting as Sora reached behind his seat.
"I think so. Want me to grab your bag?"
"Nah, leave it. No one'll mess with our stuff in this weather." The passenger side door opened. Out of the corner of his eye, Riku saw a flash of gunmetal gray as Sora placed the crutches outside of the car on either side of his feet. "Or ever, come to think. Theft's not really an issue here."
That was a far cry from life in San Francisco. Leave anything unattended in public and it was fair game for pick-pockets.
"If you pass me the keys, I can lock up."
Sora again, but Riku initially hesitated, still trying to decide if he should offer some form of help.
Sora was having none of it, also seemed to be semi-clairvoyant.
"Don't worry about waiting up. I'll take one for the team and you can just owe me."
He shot Riku a grin, hand outstretched. Before Riku could overthink the offer, he cut the ignition and dropped the keys into Sora's open palm. Then he was off, running toward the nearest edge of the clearing.
After hours of heavy rain, the ground sank under his feet. It mucked up his shoes and yet another pair of brand label jeans. Given his present company, Riku couldn't say he minded. In fact, he hardly noticed at first, too focused on what that wide grin and the lightest brushing of hands that had just transferred car keys was doing to him.
He slipped under the overhang, then waited, using a cinderblock from the nearest trailer's foundation to scrap off the clay that had collected in the grooves of his shoes. He heard the blip of his key fob. It was followed by the slosh of crutches slopping through puddles and mud on their way toward him.
Sora showed surprising adeptness, despite the terrain. Riku watched him use his crutches to angle his way around deeper puddles and mud clusters where the grass had been flattened or stripped full away by the elements. Before he knew it, Sora was pulling up next to him, his shoes and pants notably less mud-coated than Riku's.
The same couldn't be said for the rest of him. From head to toe, Sora looked just as soaked as Riku felt. Sora's shirt was plastered to him, and hair that had been so carefully styled just a few hours earlier was now matted to his forehead. Riku resisted the urge to reach out and brush a few disheveled strands away from Sora's eyes, but just barely.
For a moment, they looked at one another, their labored breathing the only sound heard between them before Sora chose to break the silence.
"Welcome to the Coliseum." Holding a crutch close to his side under one arm, he swept his free hand in a modest arc. "Does it look as cool as you thought it sounded?"
Riku let his eyes drift around the clearing before answering. Apart from the musician on the opposite end, he saw only a few other people outside at the moment, and no one he recognized.
"You said Kairi works in one of these, uh, buildings?"
"You mean trailers." Sora nudged him lightly with one elbow. "No point in talking circles around what's obvious."
Riku said nothing, but Sora needed no encouragement to continue as he pointed toward one trailer in particular.
"And yeah, she serves at Tifa's place. It's the one over there with the tri-color awning."
Sora pointed to the left and Riku followed the movement with his eyes to a natural endpoint. Once, the awning might have been three distinct colors. The South's rain and heat and other unpleasant elements had faded it. Riku could only just make out a flowery font over faint shades of blue, maybe purple, next to a stripe that was definitely a dull red, and another that was lighter, which he suspected might've once been white.
"Kettle and …Cook?"
"Cooks," Sora offered as he maneuvered himself in front of Riku. "Let's grab a seat before it starts getting busy."
Riku let Sora lead the way past a couple of smaller trailers (one an airstream barber shop, the other older and dented up that sold assorted tobacco products) to the double-wide under the faded sign that hinted at old-time patriotism. What Riku had first observed as one large waterproof canvass was actually many smaller tarps slung up above them. It required a bit of fancy, zigzag footwork to avoid the gaps where rain could still reach them as it fell overhead.
There was seating outside that seemed relatively dry, but Sora moved past it, hobbling up the narrow concrete steps to the trailer's entrance. The door was kept open by a triangle rubber wedge, with just a ratty screen separating outside from in.
Riku followed Sora inside and was struck by a blend of muggy heat, the smell of food frying, and sounds of cooking in progress. Silverware clinked against ceramic bowls and plates, and an overhead fan hummed, blades an obscured blur as it circulated hot air around them. All were superseded by the high-pitched, whining hiss of aromatic liquid meeting what looked like stainless steel industrial metal basins set up in a row along a chipped formica counter.
Riku blinked, unsure of what he was seeing as he let Sora guide him further into the space. Even as a double-wide, the seating area felt cramped, with tables and chairs located a little too close to one another for comfort. The restaurant was almost empty, with just a pair of diners seated off in one corner, two adults, one man and a woman, the latter of whom smiled and waved as they passed. Sora slowed just long enough to return both gestures and offer a short introduction that put Riku on notice that this was the Tifa he'd previously referenced. Her companion just eyed them, then offered a minute nod. His face was marred by half of a criss-cross scar, a single, uneven diagonal from mouth to brow. Riku looked away soon after he greeted them. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of gawking.
Besides, there was no lack of other things to stare at. There was the obvious mystery of the countertop basins, the less unusual setup of stools at a counter that doubled as a bar for eating and food prep. The interior itself was sparsely decorated; a handful of tables had vases with fake flowers, and a few beat-up street signs were affixed to walls in what seemed like random locations throughout the diner. Behind the counter hung a few framed photos. Most seemed to depict various events hosted on the premises. Iridescent flecks of cooking oil speckled the glass frames, which hung under an oversized chalkboard that displayed a menu in embellished cursive.
Sora made a beeline for the counter and Riku followed, eyes still drawn back to the basins, which he could now see were bolted to the far side of the counter. Odder still, a few of them were emitting plumes of steam, which were then quickly picked up by the ceiling fan. That, at least, solved the mystery of the unyielding heat.
Sora chose a stool at one end of the counter, stashed his crutches underneath, and beckoned Riku over.
The temperature rose as Riku got closer. Once more, he glanced over to the basins but said nothing as he took the seat beside Sora.
"Sorry about the heat." Sora's legs swung under him as he spoke. Through the foggy veil of steam in front of them, Riku saw movement. Through it, a woman materialized on the heels of Sora's next comment. "The food's worth it, though."
He expected it to be Kairi, but the height was wrong, among other things. Her hair was also too short, also dark like Xion's. A closer look as she approached revealed features less like the landlord's daughter, however, and more like his mother's.
She stopped in front of them, then leaned forward into the gap between two of the metal basins, forearms crossed on the counter.
"Hi, Squirt."
Her smile was subtle as she directed her attention to Sora. She looked around their age, but Riku was positive he'd never seen her at school, which meant she was probably in college (or maybe just working, he thought, since going to college down here wasn't necessarily a given). Because another person of Asian descent in a town like this? Riku was sure he would've remembered her, even if they'd never been introduced.
As though sensing his thoughts, her eyes shifted to him. Her follow-up comment was still directed at Sora, however.
"Guessin' this is the guy you mentioned."
In a single sentence, her locale was established; she sounded as Southern as Sora. Mentally, it threw Riku a little. The people his dad was representing down here were mostly Vietnamese immigrants who spoke at best in broken English. This had significantly colored Riku's assumptions. He hadn't expected her to speak with such fluency.
Moreover, Riku had assumed the texts Sora had been sending on their drive over had been intended for Kairi.
Through this all, Sora had been nodding, smile widening as his attention moved from the girl at the counter to Riku seated on the stool beside him.
"Riku, this is Yuffie. She went to Radiant High too, but graduated a couple years ago."
"And now I get guff for living in Traverse, despite that I'm here literally every day of the week."
Yuffie shot a pointed look at Sora, who shook his head a few times, sending water droplets still clinging to his hair onto the counter.
"Hey, not from me!"
Yuffie rolled her eyes.
"Well then, Squirt, you're in the minority."
Up until this point, Riku had listened to the exchange without comment, unsure how to join in, especially since he was still focused on something that wasn't the topic of their current discussion.
"Does your family still live here?"
It was an innocent enough question, if a bit out of left field. As Yuffie looked over, Riku tried not to squirm on his stool now that her eyes were fixed on him.
"My folks're still here, sure." She quirked her head just enough for Riku to catch a glimpse of the green band interwoven between dark, food service fishnet. "Dad's at the textile mill, same as the last two decades, and Mom works over at the high school, teaching ninth grade English. You've probably seen her."
Yeah, no. He'd definitely have remembered seeing someone who looked like Yuffie at school, even in passing.
"Actually, I don't—"
"He sure has," Sora chimed in, much to Riku's growing bewilderment. Sora's brows rose while he spoke, and his voice was more of a notable drawl here than at the library. "Her room is next to my third period class. She was the one looking at us all disapproving-like after the bell rang. How's that for refreshing your memory?"
Now Riku did remember. Kind of. He hadn't really been focused on the teacher at the time, but he was able to summon enough of a hazy image to recall that she'd been blonde. No less confused, Riku said nothing, simply noting that Kairi had appeared behind Yuffie, under the frame of a door that led into the back kitchen. She seemed to be silently taking in the conversation, the hint of a subtle smirk indicating her own personal amusement.
Great. Just perfect. And he still wasn't on the same page as everyone else, apparently.
A quiet chuckle, then Yuffie straightened.
"You wanna clue him in, or should I?"
Sora's hand shot up like he was in class. With a grin, he twisted on his stool until he was more fully facing Riku.
"Yuffie's adopted."
Oh. And wow. How the hell had he missed that one?
He actually knew. Before Radiant Hollow, Riku's world had been relatively simple. In it, most people were immigrants or their second generation children. The possibility that someone like Yuffie could've been adopted by a white family hadn't crossed his mind. Embarrassed, Riku looked down at his lap.
Yuffie, on the other hand, didn't seem fussed about it.
"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I don't speak a lick o' Korean."
Riku saw Yuffie grin out of the corner of one eye as Kairi moved away from the back and headed closer to them. She pulled up alongside Yuffie, then ducked behind the counter, only to reappear a moment later, hands behind her back as she secured the laces of a crisp white apron.
"You're in luck then, 'cause neither does he." Kairi glanced between them until her wry gaze settled on Riku. "Unless you've got another surprise hidin' up one of those tight sleeves."
"I don't."
The words tumbled out a beat before Riku caught on that Kairi was joking. And just like that, it was official: this day could not get any more awkward.
Unsure how to respond, Riku stayed quiet. It was Sora who came to his rescue.
"He does speak Chinese. Four years of Mandarin, right?"
Plus two years of Cantonese private tutoring since that's what pretty much everyone spoke on his part of the West Coast, along with a lifetime of listening to his relatives speak their own form of Japanese shorthand. He could even get by with Vietnamese in a pinch since some of his dad's family had made a pit stop in Hanoi for a few years before immigrating to the US. Then there was a year of French and two of Latin in middle school.
This time, Riku opted out of inserting his foot into his mouth; he just nodded and answered with a mumbled 'something like that' as he continued to look down. In the distance, he heard a string instrument, the rising chords of a guitar. Its sound was enhanced by the opening of the diner door.
"The evening rush: it starts. Better get your orders in."
At Yuffie's words, Riku turned and looked over one shoulder at the trio of people who'd just entered. If this qualified as busy, he wondered what Yuffie would think of the standard, hour-long queues to get into just about any restaurant during peak hours back home. He turned toward his own group just in time to see Sora and Kairi nodding in unison.
"Just white rice and veggies for me." Sora paused, then looked at Riku. "Are you okay with spicy things?"
"Sure."
"Oh, good. Then Yuffie's got us covered."
With an exaggerated salute, Yuffie was off to retrieve prep gloves, leaving Riku to glance between Sora and Kairi and wonder if he should point out that nothing on the overhead menu seemed to be meatless. There were plenty of dishes with shrimp, a few with pork and chicken. In San Francisco, there were at least a couple vegan entrees at every restaurant. Here he saw nothing that even qualified as vegetarian.
His thoughts must have been obvious, because Kairi was also eyeing him with a look that bordered on smug. It was a relief when she skipped off to the cash register on the far side of the counter to do her actual job.
It still didn't solve Riku's current conundrum. As Kairi took down a few orders from the newcomers, Riku looked up at the menu again, studying both the names of the dishes and the descriptions for those that weren't as intuitive. Beside him, Sora thrummed his fingers against the counter, unaware of Riku's growing discomfort.
Because, yeah, nothing was vegetarian. Even the sauces seemed like they were made up of meat stock.
Kairi flew by them, passing Yuffie as she headed back into the kitchen. Riku's attention shifted to Yuffie and a container of reddish orange liquid she was carrying over to them. A bowl of white rice was cradled in her other arm. She placed both on the counter, then reached for a cloth towel. Wrapping it around one hand, Yuffie moved in front of them, between two of the nearest metal basins. She grabbed one of the basin handles with her toweled hand and lifted up the top half. It opened like a grotesque jaw, releasing a thick cloud of steam like the mouth of a yawning dragon. Yuffie copied the process with the second basin until she was almost totally obscured by an opaque wall of mist, then fanned her arms until she was visible again, seemingly impervious to the oppressive heat.
Riku wasn't as unaffected. As the heat got more intense, he lifted a hand to wipe away a bead of sweat that had formed on his forehead. The weight of Sora's gaze was something he felt acutely. Hopefully, Sora would think he was just tucking some hair behind his ear and not all-out sweating. With nothing to say, Riku kept looking forward at Yuffie, watching with sincere interest as she split the liquid between the two basins.
"This sauce is a special recipe," she said without looking up, "something I made up today."
The rice went in next. Yuffie grabbed a large spoon from behind the counter and gave both mixtures a light stir before turning her back on them. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with an assortment of vegetables, which she laid out on the wooden part of the back counter. Riku watched as she sliced some carrots, then set them aside as she went to work dicing up a medley of onions, tomatoes, and celery.
"So," he finally ventured, "you said this recipe isn't on the menu?"
"No, it sure isn't." Yuffie spoke as she transferred the diced vegetables from the counter to the flat end of her knife. "Squirt here texted earlier and made a request. Said you weren't carnivorous, or something to that effect."
She lifted the knife at an angle and the veggies tumbled off into the sauce, which was beginning to bubble. Yuffie turned back to the cutting board and repeated the process.
"Can't say I'm all that shocked, truth be told. Seems almost normal coming from people in your neck of the forest."
Riku tensed, prepared to defend himself—or at least explain that his diet was less a fad than it was a long-held family tradition. Before he could cobble together an appropriate response, he felt a fluttering of fingers across one knee, followed by a light squeeze. A glance in Sora's direction confirmed its origin.
Suddenly, Riku was grateful for the steam-generated heat; at least it offered him a decent excuse for the color making its way up into his neck and cheeks.
He saw Sora's lips move, then part. Riku swallowed and tried to look elsewhere. But the image remained mentally imprinted, and there was a delay between what Sora was saying and his mind's ability to render the words into something coherent.
"I texted Yuffie on the drive over to let her know," Sora said. "You didn't think I'd forget going through a full box and a half of graham crackers so soon, would you?"
Sora's hand was still on his knee, just resting there. Innocent. Routine. Like it was nothing out of the ordinary to be touching in public. Unsure of where to put his own hands, Riku reached up to fiddle with a few strands of his hair while desperately trying to think of some way to respond that wouldn't sound dumb. Failing that, he tried to shrug the whole thing off.
"I wasn't sure. It doesn't seem like many people are vegetarians around here."
"Oh, they aren't." This time, the hand offered a gentle pat that felt like encouragement. "That's why it's easy to remember."
It moved away far too soon and returned to the counter as Sora leaned forward toward Yuffie.
"I'll pass on the carrots."
She scoffed.
"Don't insult me. You think I don't already know your preferences like the back of my gloved hand?"
Dark eyes shifted and fixed on Riku.
"And you. Got any weird aversions to food I should know about?"
"Hey! It's not weird liking carrots raw instead of cooked. They taste totally different." Sora shot Yuffie a bothered look, eyes narrowing, but it was offset by a smile he didn't quite manage to hide in time. He turned to Riku. "Back me up here. That's normal."
"It's…" Riku paused for effect. "…a little weird, yeah. And I'm fine with whatever vegetables you have," he said to Yuffie.
Yuffie looked victorious as Sora blew air between pursed lips.
"It's not bad, though," Riku quickly tacked on. "Just a little different."
"Uh-huh." This time, Sora's eyes stayed with Riku, his expression reminiscent of Kairi's right after she said something he wasn't expecting. "Like being a vegetarian in the South?"
"I'm not from the South," Riku countered. "That really shouldn't count."
He met Sora's answering grin with a hesitant smile of his own, as Yuffie distributed the rest of the vegetables and added a handful of carrots to only one of the basins. The guitar music filtered in again as Kairi shuffled behind the counter and went to work preparing three other orders. Conversation mingled with occasional laughter behind them, and Riku found himself getting more comfortable, even in the moments of silence that sometimes still settled between him and Sora.
His only regret was not acting on Sora's hand when he'd had the chance—plus not being brave enough to initiate more physical contact of any sort on his end. These disappointments were more than enough to occupy his thoughts while Sora chatted with Kairi and Yuffie whenever they were close enough. But Riku also knew there'd plenty of time to replay each moment of this day when he got home. Fixating on it now felt like a gross misuse of Sora's invitation to eat together.
But what was there to say, honestly? It was true that this felt more like a date than the library, but it didn't mean he was any more prepared to maintain a steady flow of conversation. With a subtle scan of the space, Riku cast a net, just hoping it might land on something he could drag back and turn into a topic. It was his ongoing curiosity about one particular object that led him to finally say something.
"Hey, is there an official name for those things?"
Sora looked over, and Riku pointed him toward the nearest basin.
"Yep. They're steam kettles," Sora said. "Now that you know that, I'm betting the diner name makes a load more sense."
Sure, maybe if he hadn't already forgotten it. Riku glanced back up the overhead menu to refresh his memory as his expression shifted from mild confusion to one more revelatory.
"Call it in. Looks like we've got a genius of real-time deduction in our midst," Kairi hollered over her shoulder as she tipped a bowl of shrimp into one of the kettles she was working in front of.
For the first time, Riku wasn't bothered by the comment, was able to chalk it up to finally getting used to the way she responded to things. Another form of progress.
"Tifa just bought these two new ones," Sora said, pointing to the bubbling sauce Yuffie was stirring in front of them, "so the place only had four before. The wait starts adding up fast when you can't cook more at a time than that. That's why it's best to come early."
Yuffie nodded as she ladled out their portions into two lacquered white bowls.
"Bon apeti, boys." She slid both bowls across the counter, along with some silverware. "Lemme know what you think of the recipe. It's still a bit of a work-in-progress."
They reached for their spoons in unison, the sides of their hands lightly brushing before Sora readjusted. He sat up straight, twirling his spoon between a middle and index finger, before dipping it into his bowl.
"So, I'm still stumped on something that I was hoping you could help with."
As Kairi passed by with a tray balanced above one flat hand, Riku raised an eyebrow and Sora leaned closer.
"Kairi's birthday," he said, his voice a whisper, even though the subject of current discussion was a fair distance off and still serving tables. The diner also wasn't a bastion of quiet between people chatting and the clang of metal kitchen instruments. That said, pointing this out to Sora would have been outright stupid, considering the way his current proximity was making Riku's pulse race. This wasn't exactly a bad thing, as long as Riku could keep calm about it.
"When is it?"
It was possible they'd already been over this in one of the paragraphs-long text messages Sora had sent while he'd been out sick. If so, Sora didn't seem to to mind a quick recap.
"Next week Sunday. I'm really cutting it close." He swirled his spoon around in the brothy sauce, but didn't bring it up to his mouth. "She's got the weekend off so that gives us more options …if I could just think of something to do. But it's her eighteenth so it's gotta be good, you know?"
An idea was taking shape, a dim light flickering on at the mention of that particular time-frame. Just, logistics. How to make it work and get everyone on board. It was true that Riku didn't know much about Kairi's interests, only made guesses based on what he saw of her clashing fashion disasters and frequently changing bright nail polish. But this concept would appeal to everyone. Maybe. He just needed more time to think about it.
Riku tried to look pensive as he transferred a large helping of rice, diced veggies, and sauce the color of masala into his mouth.
A second passed, and another, as Riku chewed up his food and tried to mentally work through the idea's finer details. He swallowed without really giving any thought to what he'd just eaten.
That turned out to be a mistake, because three seconds in and his throat was burning. He coughed, which only ignited the spice further. Even his tongue felt like it was self-immolating.
"Want some water?"
Riku looked up at Yuffie, who seemed notably smug, but also saintly since she'd returned with large glasses of ice water for both of them. She slid them across the counter, then headed off to greet more customers. Riku gulped down half of his glass in a matter of seconds.
Beside him, Sora took a more dignified sip. He held the glass up to his lips even after he seemed to be finished.
"I did kind of warn you. Yuffie likes to make things spicy."
He took another small sip, seemingly more to hide his grin than because he actually needed it. Settling the glass back on the counter, Sora reached for his spoon again and stirred another slow pattern around the edge of his bowl.
"It just caught me off-guard," Riku said, trying not to sound defensive. "That's all."
Nevertheless, Sora merely shot him a knowing grin. Riku took another bite of his meal in an attempt to move on, this time taking care to drain the excess sauce before lifting the spoon up to his mouth. His attention circled back to Sora and his own bowl. There was a rhythmic quality to the way Sora was stirring. It was measured, even a little transfixing. This was probably why Riku had completed bite three and was onto his fourth before noticing that Sora had as yet eaten nothing. Even his water glass was still mostly full.
This sparked a memory, harkened back a few Fridays.
At first, Riku said nothing, just continued to alternate between eating food that was surprisingly not bad now that he was prepared for its peppery kick and drinking more water to help curb it. All the while, he kept his eyes on what Sora was doing, which was mostly chatting with others and sometimes smiling at Riku. Still absent was the part where Sora ate much of anything.
He did raise his spoon to his mouth once, consumed about half of what was on it before dipping it back into his bowl. To Riku, it felt like a show, put on for his exclusive benefit.
Just like the crutches, and the reason behind Sora's absence from school, Riku wasn't sure how to address what he was seeing now. Three weeks of almost obsessive observation made Sora seem like a private person. But over-analyzing every text message and in-person interaction until coming to his own, sometimes wildly off-base conclusions had only led to misunderstandings and a fight. Maybe asking outright really was a better approach, Riku reasoned. At least this time he wouldn't be doing it dressed in nothing but a damp Speedo.
"Not a big fan of the food?"
Sora looked up.
"Nah, it's fine. Yuffie's been working here so long she's practically a master chef by now. Everything she makes tastes good."
"Ah."
Riku tried not to deflate at what felt like a brush-off.
"It's, just, you've hardly touched it," he tried again, this time ensuring his words were more pointed. If Sora continued to be evasive, so be it. At least he'd know where he stood. That was something he could deal with. "And I noticed you also weren't eating much when we were at the party."
"Mm."
Sora ducked his head and reached for his water. He kept quiet, fingers playing over the glass exterior, leaving spiraling trails through the condensation that had formed on it. For a moment, Riku thought that might be the end of this subject, and Sora would either hop to a new one or, worse, continue to sit in silence, eyes downcast.
He heard a soft sigh. It was followed by an audible intake of air.
"My meds make me nauseous."
The words were quiet, prompting Riku to lean in to ensure he'd heard properly.
"Your meds?"
"Yeah."
Sora nodded, but still didn't look up.
"They help with pain—because nine times out of ten, something's sore or aching even if I'm not recovering from a dislocation or bone break." His eyes darted from their bowls up to Riku's nose but they didn't rise further to meet his eyes. "I like food. I do. I just sometimes have to choose between being pain-free and eating. Usually, I want to feel normal."
"That sucks."
Though pithy, Riku hoped his words didn't ring hollow, because he meant them. Completely. There was also no way for him to make the sentiment more eloquent, no option to doll it up. He didn't know how, nor was he convinced rambling would be appropriate in this instance.
It wasn't enough. He knew that. But it was sincere and all he had to offer.
For the first time since he had asked his question, Sora looked fully up. He seemed to be considering the words, studying them like a physical gift, one he could accept or reject at whim.
Slowly, he nodded.
"Yeah. It does." The barest hint of a smile formed. "But I will survive. 'Cause I'm a survivor. I'm not gon' give up."
The last few lines were spoken in a singsong tone, his voice effortlessly switching from 70s disco to early 2000s R&B pop. Riku released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, only to laugh under his breath.
"You're ridiculous."
Sora offered a wide grin, brows rising under a mess of rain-damp hair.
"You only just noticed? Kairi might need to revoke your genius status."
"My rise to greatness was brief," Riku intoned. "But its effect was lasting."
This seemed to delight Sora whose grin now flashed teeth. He even ate another spoonful of food, washed down by a slightly longer sip of water.
"Honestly though, my mom's a doctor and might be able to help with that," Riku said, deciding to take a chance. When Sora said nothing, Riku continued, choosing his words carefully. "She's always telling me how the right dose is everything when it comes to meds."
Something passed over Sora's expression, a blend of emotions that vanished before Riku could try to separate and make individual sense of them. The sound of guitar music was now amplified by stereo equipment, and behind them a few people whooped and picked up the lyrics at their tables. On the far side of the space where a dark-haired restaurant owner sat across from her scowling guest, Riku heard a snippet of invitation, followed by a few words of rebuttal before Sora's voice diverted his attention.
"No matter how hard Tifa works on him, Leon isn't ever gonna be a people person."
Riku followed Sora's eyes back to the far table, just in time to see the woman stand and spin in place. She offered both hands to the man's vehemently shaking head while Riku tried to remember the context that he'd heard the guy's name in earlier. Laughter could be heard from nearby tables as others started to support Tifa's antics. A few people clapped. Some even verbally goaded. In response, Leon rolled his eyes and crossed both arms over his chest.
Right. The living room photo. Leon was friends with Sora's older brother. He'd looked a whole lot younger then. And scarless.
"Y'know …I'd dance with you, if I could."
The flushed heat returned, joined by a fluttering in his stomach, as Sora's words registered. Riku hazarded a look over at the boy beside him.
"Oh yeah?"
A quick nod from Sora, before he ducked his head again. Though the action had been fast, Riku still managed to catch a glimpse of what looked like a blush.
"Yeah." The word was muffled as Sora spoke downward. "If I could."
Riku was grinning like an idiot by the time a blur of fishnet and a fringe of dyed red entered his line of sight, ushering in Kairi's reappearance. He tried to control his features while she took her apron off, then deposited her plastic gloves in the nearest trash bin before slipping under the counter to join them. If she noticed their flushed faces, Kairi didn't deign to comment. Not in so many words, at least.
"Break time for me. Y'all seem to be enjoying yourselves."
"We were debating Riku's intelligence," Sora said, voice rising to be heard over the din. "Wanna throw your two cents into the mix?"
Kairi looked at them, then deadpanned her answer.
"No, not especially."
She blew Sora a kiss before heading toward the diner door.
"Suit yourself, but you're missin' out," Sora called at her retreating form. Riku watched Kairi exit the trailer, then followed her path through a window as she weaved her way toward the makeshift stage, around people who were congregating in front of the guitarist and the two other girls who had joined her.
There was something distinctly unique about the scene, something that set it apart from other concerts Riku had been to. There was no comparing it with lavish family holidays, not even a class at his last school to prepare him for such regional variance. He wondered what someone like Neku would think of this. Or Kadaj.
His earlier thought came back, this time with more depth. Maybe it was Sora perched comfortably next to him or the sense of festivity while people ate and conversated, as Pence might phrase it. Possibly, the music was resonating with him.
Whatever the case, by the time the song came to an end and another, slower one started, he'd made up his mind. And maybe it was a little crazy and he'd have regrets by the end of the night, but now was another matter entirely. For once, Riku decided not to question himself, to be a little impulsive.
He reached out toward the counter and placed his hand over Sora's.
"You know, I think I may have an idea for Kairi's birthday after all."