Paradigm

by nicayal

There's the trailer-park South and there's Radiant Hollow, a bayou town that isn't so much as a dot on tourist maps. There's loving your family but hating their genetics, provincial stereotypes and cynicism about them bleedin' liberal Yanks. And there's the arrival of the town's first new family in recent memory that no local wants to tackle, Roxas least of all. AU AkuRoku, SoRiku

18. Chapter 18: Go With It

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: GO WITH IT

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"Ay oh, let it go
See the big picture
Explode, like a light bulb
Let it unfold
Just go, go with it."
"Go With It" - TOKiMONSTA, MNDR

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One day. No misunderstandings, no drama. Nothing but riding an emotional high after his outing with Sora.

He'd had one full day before Selphie skipped in and ruined everything.

It'd been a good day, too. Maybe not as great as Sunday, but weekdays always had their work cut out for them during the school year. As far as Mondays generally went, this one had been above average. English was less awkward now that Hayner seemed to have let him off the hook. They'd never be close friends, would never be the other's first choice to divulge secrets, but at least Hayner no longer shot daggers at him every time their paths crossed. Riku thought he might even have gotten a nod when he'd first taken his seat in the trailer that morning. No more than a sliver of acknowledgment, it was still leaps and bounds above where they'd been just a week earlier. He'd leveled up. Somewhat.

Second period had been another bright spot in a day teeming with small positives. He and Sora had spotted each other immediately before class. Riku's inclination to duck his head and let his hair obscure his vision was undermined by Sora's big smile. Riku had stopped at the door, kept his chin up, and smiled back. His attempt was far more restrained, but it widened when Sora leaned forward in his desk, chin propped up in one hand while the fingers of his other waved a fluttered welcome.

They walked side-by-side to Sora's next class. Other students gave them a wide berth and eyed them with looks of open curiosity. If Sora noticed, his expression didn't show it. He just talked on, mostly about their upcoming trip. Riku, in turn, tried to redirect his thoughts. Even Seifer had kept quiet as they'd passed him, although that may have been less about acceptance, more to do with Olette standing next to him.

They timed their good-bye better this time. Although neither seemed eager to leave, Riku was waving and halfway down the hallway before Yuffie's mom could do more than arch an eyebrow.

Lunch had been almost nice. Seifer hadn't bothered them, and Roxas spent the period waiting in line for Prom tickets, leaving Riku to eat in peace while Pence talked about his weekend photography class. Hayner had mostly just listened. Truth be told, he'd seemed distracted, eyes unfocused. If they'd been on better terms, Riku might have asked what was up. As it stood, Riku wasn't about to jeopardize the tenuous truce he'd spent the past couple weeks nurturing between them.

Roxas ignored him in fifth period Physics, and Riku'd been too busy to do anything but pay attention during gym now that they'd moved outdoors to their track and field unit. He'd kept a safe distance from Seifer and his friends while they ran a circuit of the football field that would've put to shame most Bay Area high school sports stadiums. Hayner hadn't been lying about how the school spent its money.

But the most interesting aspect of that class had been Roxas. Finger still splinted, he was back in gym clothes sporting his usual sour expression. Like Sora, Roxas was on the short side of high school seniors, yet he quickly outpaced the rest of the class on their warm-up sprint. Riku considered himself respectably athletic, but Roxas was a natural, legs a blur, gait fast and effortless. While most people were breathing hard by the time they finished a full lap of the field, Roxas hardly seemed winded. Actually, he looked bored, but maybe that was better than indifferent.

If they'd been friends, Riku might have complimented him. By the time his lungs had stopped burning, Roxas was on the other side of a group of gym students, Seifer a broad-shouldered barrier between them. Riku quickly abandoned the thought of sharing any appreciative comments in favor of self-preservation. He spent the rest of the period avoiding Seifer and shadowing Tidus.

He had wondered if his luck would end in the locker room. Over the past few weeks, Seifer hadn't held back on his insults, even before he'd any proof to back up the slurs. Now that it was obvious Riku was spending most of his free time with Sora, he'd expected Seifer to ramp up the verbal abuse, maybe even start something physical.

But Seifer'd said nothing, just sneered when his gaze met Riku's. Fair enough, Riku thought. He had kind of been staring.

Study hall was the day's highlight, because it'd involved more of Sora and his endless banter. Kairi had shushed him a few times, trying to look stern as her jaw worked over another stick of gum. Even she eventually conceded defeat to Sora's infectious excitement with a slight shake of her head.

"Do your friends know we're coming with you?" Sora'd asked. And then, at Riku's nod, "remind me of their names again. I don't want to forget and look stupid."

"You won't. To both." They'd already gone over this a couple times since Sunday, but Riku couldn't say he minded. Sora was even cuter when he was focused on a goal. "Even your pronunciation's great."

Sora didn't look convinced. He glanced over at Kairi.

"You should try again. I think you're still stressing the wrong syllable in Kadaj's name."

Before Riku could jump in and promise them both that it really didn't matter one way or another to him—probably not even to Kadaj— Kairi looked up, both brows rising.

"You think?"

She actually looked concerned. Sora nodded, enunciated the two syllables, then waited for her to give repeat after him. Kairi just popped an exaggerated bubble, rolled her eyes, and returned to her history text.

For the first time all day, Sora seemed to deflate. Next to him, Riku took a moment to make sure no one around them was watching, then patted Sora's back, hand lingering a few extra, meaningful seconds.

Sora's face remained tense, features pinched.

"I just don't want to say something wrong or offend anyone, you know?"

"Yeah." Riku wanted to offer so much more. He wanted to lean closer, press his lips against Sora's cheek, and wrap his arms around those thin shoulders. He moved his hand back to his lap. "You'll be fine."

If he had to guess, they'd all just be following Kadaj around while their moms flitted off to the nearest spa. Neku would be his usual conversation-averse, and the girls would be …well, girls. They'd epically overpack, spend so much time in the bathroom that by the time they sauntered down breakfast would be brunch, and drop names with such nonchalance it'd be anyone's guess whether they were talking about friends or Europe and Asia's latest up-and-coming fashion brands.

At least they didn't giggle over guys like when they were twelve. Kairi might've otherwise killed them. She didn't seem the type to let boys dictate any aspect of her life.

"It's just too bad we missed Mardi Gras. That would've been cool."

This was his attempt at changing the subject; Riku didn't really care about Mardi Gras.

His effort was rewarded with two incredulous looks.

"Really?"

Riku looked over at Kairi.

"What?"

A muffled laugh sounded from Sora's end of the table. Riku sat back in his chair and fixed his eyes on both of them.

"Well, it's a total horse and pony show. Everyone's drunk, and the tourists are all tone deaf about the festival's history and culture."

"Doesn't seem like your scene, is what he's saying," Kairi added.

Yeah, it wasn't, but Riku wasn't about to admit that.

Yet loud music, day drinking, and flagrant nudity? It did strike a familiar note.

"It sounds a little like Pride, actually."

Sora leaned closer, elbow brushing Riku's on its path from lap to library tabletop. His eyes were wide as he looked up.

"You've been before? To Pride?"

Suddenly self-conscious, Riku caught his tongue between two teeth and nodded.

"What's it like?"

"Um." He swallowed and tried to decide just how much he should share. "The parade's pretty commercial and attracts, like, a million people. Mostly tourists."

"Sounds like Mardi Gras," Kairi said before popping another small bubble.

"Yeah. Rainbow flags start going up at the beginning of June, and they're everywhere. Like, the whole city celebrates. There's also a film festival that leads up to the official Pride stuff."

And a handful of protesters no one ever paid attention to, straight people treating the whole weekend like an extended festivity wholly removed from its radical origin, and, oh yeah, a Saturday night in the Castro last year with Kadaj, Neku, and others where Riku had—

"I'd love to go." The wistfulness in Sora's tone drew Riku back to the library table. "Or just visit sometime. It doesn't need to be Pride."

You could stay with me if you came out…

It should've been the easiest thing to say, given Sora's lead, but it felt too forward with Kairi sitting next to them. The words stuck in his throat, unspoken.

The bell rang. Around them, people grabbed textbooks and headed out the library doors. Riku did too. A week ago, he would've said good-bye here and walked to his car alone. Now it felt natural to wait until Sora and Kairi were ready to head outside with him.

They left as a mismatched trio, three high schoolers from different backgrounds, teens on the precipice of an adulthood that would look vastly different for each of them. For now, it was enough that they had a little common ground.

Riku had no reason to believe Tuesday would be any different, and it might not've been, if Selphie hadn't decided to skip up to him at the end of lunch.

If he'd seen her coming, Riku could have mentally prepared himself. He'd known she was nearby, had seen her selling Prom tickets at the student council table for a week now. But the moment he sat down, he'd promptly zoned out, as Pence and Hayner quizzed each other on U.S. History trivia for an upcoming test and Roxas proceeded to ignore everything outside a direct sightline to his phone.

In retrospect, he'd been a sitting duck, and Selphie a keen hunter.

"Hey, Riku! Got a second?"

It was over the moment she uttered his name. Hayner and Pence both straightened, exchanged looks, and leapt out of their seats, lunch trays scraping. Pence had the grace to say they had to get to the library before their test. The sympathetic look he shot Riku implied there were other reasons for the abrupt exit.

Roxas stayed where he was, shoulders rounded, eyes still cast down at his phone. Ignoring everyone.

"What's up?" Riku asked, as Selphie settled in on the bench next to him. Her gaze traveled from his empty food container to the chopsticks he was still holding. From there, they slowly rose, taking in what looked like one arm after the other. There hadn't been enough time between Kairi's comment and the here and now for Riku to forget where the observation about his physique had come from. Heat crept from his chest into his neck, threatening to announce its presence at any damning second.

"I've got some good news." Her eyes lifted to meet his before darting away again, a skittish dance Riku couldn't quite pin down as excitement or shyness. "I found you a date to Prom!"

Oh fuck. He'd been so distracted with Sora over the past week, he'd completely forgotten to call Selphie off on that front.

"Uh …" Across the table, Riku caught a movement and noted Roxas had shifted a little away from them. His eyes stayed down; by all accounts, he was still engrossed in his phone. He was also facing them in profile now, and Riku noted with a growing unease that this gave him the chance to listen with an ear aimed their way. "I mean, that's … so—"

"Great!" Selphie chirped. "I know. And on such late notice, you're lucky I was able to find someone."

Was that a freaking smirk?

Mostly still focused on Roxas, Riku just nodded. He hadn't been expecting the impact of Selphie's balled fist with his shoulder. It hadn't really hurt, but it did get him to look over at her.

"Well? Aren't you gonna ask me who it is?"

Truth be told, Riku didn't really want to know. As if not knowing in any way meant this wasn't happening, that he wouldn't have to let some random girl down gently, all while avoiding Selphie's inevitable wrath at the perceived blow-off.

There was also something familiar about her look of expectancy. It was the way Eri sometimes looked at Neku and him when Shiki wasn't around and she wanted to gossip.

Send help.

"Oh." Riku reached for his drink. "Sorry. Who, uh, is it?"

Gutless, that's what he was. If he'd had an ounce of self-respect, he'd have just come out and told Selphie he wasn't interested. It might not be pleasant, yet it'd be easier to back out at this stage than prolong his suffering another couple days. But there was an intensity behind Selphie's eyes that Riku really didn't want to cross, at least not in the cafeteria within earshot of Roxas. With luck, he wouldn't know who she'd set him up with anyway. Maybe he could even suck it up, attend Prom, and be done with it. Something to look back at and laugh about after he'd returned home.

"So, you know how you were super sad when I told you Sora and Kairi were already going together?"

Selphie made a face, the corners of her mouth downturned into an exaggerated pout.

Riku froze, teeth clamping back onto his tongue. Seriously, did everyone at this school know about him and Sora? Maybe they could've been a little more discrete when they walked together between classes, but he'd still believed he was being pretty subtle.

Cup still hovering under his chin, Riku stole a quick glance at Roxas again.

"I wouldn't have used those exact wor—"

"Whatever. You know what I mean. Anyway, I've got news that'll turn that frown upside down." Selphie's impatience was short-lived as she beamed up at Riku while Riku tried to recall the last time he'd heard someone under eighty utter that phrase. "I explained the situation, and they were very sympathetic, Sora especially."

Riku jerked and narrowly missed sloshing himself with the contents of his cup. Was Selphie seriously implying what he thought she was? At lunch, in front of Roxas—was Selphie actually telling him Sora wanted to go to Prom with him?

"…he was?"

Selphie grinned and bobbed her head.

"Bless his dear heart, he's a sweet one. Plus, a crush is a crush, he fully understands."

There was no hiding his flushed cheeks now. The mere thought of Sora in a suit, elbow hooked around Riku's, sent a giddy spark up his back. It rounded his ribs and settled into his chest, Roxas and the rest of this school be damned. It was official: Selphie was a godsend and he might've just developed a latent appreciation for Southern Baptists.

"Mind, Kairi was a bit surprised, but she quickly warmed up to the idea. Just don't forget to buy your ticket and get the details about her dress color so the corsage matches."

Wait, what?

The cup dropped to the table with a soft clatter. Riku opened his mouth, then closed it. No sound.

The bell rang piercing and shrill. Still grinning like a fox, Selphie hopped up.

"No need to thank me. I'm getting pretty good at matchmaking." Her expression turned pseudo-serious. "Just treat her well, you hear? Like a real lady. The South has standards."

She was off before Riku could manage a word. Across the table, the squeak of worn sneakers mingled with an audible snicker.

Riku glanced up, eyes locking on Roxas, whose brows rose a little.

"Hope you two lovebirds enjoy yourselves." Roxas pocketed his phone, expression uninvested despite the sly edge to his tone. "Y'all just remember to be safe now. Every town likes to be number one in something, but don't go thinking ours'll throw you a parade over an unplanned pregnancy."

o - o

A rush of rising bubbles followed a shock of cold water as the world fell silent around him. For the first time in a solid forty-eight hours, Riku felt centered. Calm.

Almost.

The agitation returned in full force the moment he resurfaced. Partly, this was due to Selphie and her laughing, splashing antics a few lanes over. It also extended beyond that, triggering memories of Kairi and Sora, and Prom-focused talk Riku wanted no part of.

God.

Riku took a long breath, tried to direct his attention to water gently lapping at his ribs. He could sense Sora, if not actually see him from his current position. Given how awkward the last two days sitting next to him in the library had been, it was probably for the best that Riku was currently avoiding eye contact.

Because Sora's reaction to the news of Selphie's matchmaking hadn't come close to what Riku'd envisioned. He'd expected surprise—at the very least disappointment when it'd been revealed that Selphie had set up the wrong two people in their existing trio. Sora's response had been the polar opposite. He'd adopted a serious look, and followed it with an order for Riku and Kairi to scoot closer so they could strategize about every imaginable Prom night logistic.

Wading toward the shallows, Riku curled his fingers along the pool's edge just long enough to tuck his legs under him. He kicked off, clearing the first third of the pool underwater, then resurfaced and started a relaxed lap of freestyle. It was a warm-up pace, intended to assess how his body was feeling, and a routine start to any swim practice. As a practical matter, it was also rote and dull, and Riku soon found himself facing another dilemma: his attention was drifting.

It wasn't that he was mad at Selphie. Not really. Riku knew the setup hadn't been arranged out of malicious intent. Quite the opposite, it was a misunderstanding of epic proportions, and ultimately blameless. What wasn't was his own approach to dealing with her presumptions about whom he'd been hoping to take to Prom.

That was the larger problem. Riku would be the first to admit he didn't know much about Southern culture, but after nearly a month of firsthand observation, he was clued in enough to know that being totally forthright wouldn't be in his best interest—or Sora's.

But Kairi already knew. At least, that's what Riku had assumed. Every playful dig, every subtle comment, had led Riku to believe Kairi was not just a lot smarter than people tended to give her credit for but astute enough to put two and two together when it came to him and Sora. She didn't always give straight answers or admit what she was actually thinking about most things but she definitely wasn't dumb, and half the time she had her earbuds in Riku was convinced she wasn't listening to anything besides other people's conversations. She had to have picked up on how he felt about Sora, might even know more about how Sora felt about him than even Riku truly did. Kairi could've put a fast stop to this Prom date nonsense, from the moment she'd gotten wind of Selphie's plans.

She hadn't. She'd just let Sora chatter while ticking off her own daily quota of eye-rolls. Once in awhile, she'd cut in with a snarky quip. Otherwise, nothing. As Sora talked on and on about Prom, Kairi hadn't expressed any interest in finding a way out of their current predicament.

And, okay fine. Riku also hadn't had the balls to speak up himself. Guilty by association. No one was completely innocent.

The problem was, Riku was starting to question the signals he was convinced Sora'd been sending him. Maybe Sora really was just being nice. Just being the kind of person who didn't mind when a socially awkward transfer student held his hand even though guys who were 'just friends' and didn't want to get beat on stopped doing things like that in kindergarten. Or maybe Kairi wasn't as smart as Riku'd given her credit for and she just had the sort of resting expression that fell closer to impish than outright bitchiness.

Maybe what Riku had thought was obvious was actually his own West Coast bias. He already knew the South was a different world, with aspects of its culture that were illogical to outsiders. Maybe he needed to clear this whole mess up before it got even more out of hand. Outright honesty might end in heartbreak, but at least everything would be on the table, finally.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Somehow, Riku figured, that approach wouldn't end well if Seifer sensed even the faintest hint of truth to the swirling rumors.

He pivoted at the wall, not even bothering to perform a somersault, thoughts still hopelessly muddled. And it wasn't just his thought process that was woefully askew; Riku'd been so distracted that he'd left both his towel and goggles in the locker room. By the time he noticed that he'd entered the pool empty-handed, there was exactly no chance he was willing to walk beneath where Sora was sitting up in the stands by the pool entrance a second time, let alone third on his way back. He could handle a little chlorine in his eyes if it meant temporarily steering clear this one little problem. It was just too bad his others weren't as avoidable.

Reaching the shallow end, Riku turned again. After nearly two full laps, his muscles felt warm, a good sign that he could increase his pace without straining anything. This was precisely the moment that Riku realized Sora was no longer in the stands. It took him two strokes to confirm what he'd first noted in his peripherals, another face-down, then a turn of his head before Riku spotted Sora heading toward the pool's far edge.

What the …

He tucked his chin into his chest again but was quick to resurface. Back and forth, he watched Sora move closer in stop-motion; each time he came up for air, Sora was in a different position and a little closer to his destination.

First, he was poolside, in profile, parallel to Riku. Then, he was turning and all Riku could see was tousled hair and the back of his baggy shirt. Deft use of crutches propelled Sora forward, toward the far end of the pool where Riku was heading himself.

Riku's pace faltered as Sora lowered himself to the ledge that faced Riku's lane at the pool's deep end. Still wearing his street clothes, Riku could see that Sora was partially barefoot and rolling his jeans on one leg all the way up to the knee. By the time Riku had finished his lap, Sora was seated, one bare foot dangling over the edge, foot submerged, the other leg bent in toward his chest. Sora's injured ankle was still wrapped in tape and Ace bandages but also shoeless.

"Just a couple more weeks, and maybe I can join you." Sora grinned his usual grin, gaze skimming the water's surface, all the way over to Tidus, Wakka, and Selphie still chatting in the shallows. Riku held onto the pool's edge with one hand and tried to swallow over a knot in his throat. "'Course, I can't promise you much competition. I bet Tidus could, though, if you asked him to race."

"Hmm."

Not sure how to respond, Riku pushed off and treaded water a few feet away from Sora. Suddenly, he wanted to keep swimming. Even a boring, warm-up stroke was preferred over having to face his demons, however wide-eyed and cute they currently looked.

"Hey, Riku? Everything okay?"

"Yeah."

It was all he could get out, one meaningless, filler word that meant the exact opposite of what he currently felt.

Silence twined tendrils between them, Riku stirring upper body rivulets, Sora's leg weightless and warped by the water in front of him. With increasing unease, Riku quickly realized that the angle of reflected light made it look deformed. Even broken.

"It's, just, you've been kind of quiet for the past couple days …"

For the first time since Sora had interrupted his warmup, Riku looked up, throat still tense, thoughts a mess of conflict. He found himself wishing he could be more like Kadaj, facing problems naively but head-on, never worrying about people's reactions in the aftermath of his own brash actions.

Riku responded differently. He'd always been quick to assume things, however unfounded. Once, he might even have reacted based on them without much forethought. Over the past month, Radiant Hollow and its oddball residents had chipped away at his inborn confidence, though, along with his understanding of how people and the world were supposed to operate. Up was down in this ass-backwards town, and nothing made logical sense until after it was too late to fix on his end.

He shrugged a little, water rising under his chin as the action temporarily halted his rhythm. He looked across the pool toward his other classmates. Maybe Radiant Hollow was changing him, or maybe this was just part of growing up. Whatever the case, Riku found himself wishing he had more time to think things over and find the right answers.

"Hey, can I ask a favor?"

"Hmm?"

Sora's question got his attention, if not actually a new word out of him.

"I was wondering if you could give me a ride home. Kairi had to leave right after study hall."

Riku looked up to a hopeful smile, his own expression still guarded. Doubtful. This was the first he was hearing about Sora being rideless. He considered the discrepancy for a second. Then, he nodded.

Sora's expression instantly brightened.

"You sure? I know it's out of your way."

"Yeah, no, I can totally drive you home." Riku studied a nearby wall clock before looking back up at Sora. "Meet me outside the locker room in half an hour?"

He waited just long enough for Sora to confirm, then moved toward the wall to push off, this time into a backstroke. By the time he returned to the deep end, Sora was up in the bleachers again, shoes on his feet, a hardbound book balanced across his legs. All Riku could do was hope that the next thirty minutes of intense swimming would be enough to build a high enough mental wall to enable him to act semi-normal in front of Sora on the drive across town.

Some way, somehow, he needed to find a way to move past his current hang-ups. Even Sora had to have limits on his patience with overly moody, perpetually brooding classmates.

o - o

It should've been a simple afternoon detour: Drive Sora from school to home, then navigate the bumpy, heat-buckled streets of Radiant Hollow without getting so distracted in his attempt at low-key conversation that he crossed a lane or hopped a curb and killed them both. Easy. Then he'd be free to go home and spend the next couple hours overthinking the events of the past few days in peace. If Riku was able to stick to this plan, however hastily manufactured, this extra time spent with Sora should've been relatively painless.

Famous last words. Or thoughts. Whatever.

Because it didn't take long for Riku to realize it was hard to say no to Sora. And as soon as he'd pulled up to the curb in front of the Strife's house, Sora had turned his head toward the driver's seat and fixed his eyes directly on Riku.

"Did you want to come in?"

Riku opened his mouth, then closed it too quickly, tongue stinging as it caught on a tooth. Yet again, he'd managed to shift from silent to straight-up awkward, whether or not Sora actually noticed.

Sora looked away first, gaze dropping to his lap, then drifting out the passenger side window.

"I don't actually know what type of stuff I should be packing. I've been to New Orleans before, but just for doctor appointments." His lower lip receded between two front teeth, brows furrowing, and Riku found himself stuck on just how much he wanted to reach across the center console and place a reassuring hand on that shoulder. Sora glanced over, eyes meeting Riku's just long enough to leave him feeling at an utter loss before they darted back out the window. "I was hoping you could help me out a little."

Just like that, Riku's half-cocked plan to drop Sora off and beat a hasty retreat was abandoned. He was craning toward the back seat to grab Sora's bag before his mind managed to catch up with the rest of him.

The living room hadn't changed much from his last visit. Same for Sora's mom, who greeted him with a small nod. This time, Sora didn't linger, and Riku was soon being led toward the stairs up to the home's second floor.

"Don't put weight on the railing," Sora cautioned. "Cloud hasn't got around to fixing it. The second to last step is also worth skipping."

Despite the warning, Sora took the stairs fast, ascending on his crutches with the ease of someone accustomed to navigating around dogged problems. Riku moved more cautiously, taking his time to follow Sora's instructions. He eyed the railing like it was alive, an unmoving wooden human, bowed out toward the fireplace mantle under some unseen burden. The step Sora had warned him about was split at its center, and lopsided compared to the other stairs. Riku skipped it.

The second-floor hall was narrow, cracks in the walls snaking up to a plastered ceiling, water stains and all, then branching off like the limbs of a big, ancient tree. There was one door to his right, closed and adjacent the final step, and others to his left. Sora headed over to the one closest to them in this direction.

He nudged the door open with his splinted foot, then hobbled inside, Riku following a few steps behind.

"Sorry for the mess. I wasn't expecting guests when I left this morning."

When Riku thought of messy, Kadaj was the first person who came to mind. His cousin's room was large, but it was brimming with electronic equipment. A housekeeping team handled the dusting, plus the washing of dirty clothes and linens each week; within a handful of days, however, Kadaj had usually succeeded in returning it to its former state of chaotic disarray.

Riku quickly learned that Sora's concept of a mess involved an unmade bed and a couple sheets of notebook paper scattered across the top of a desk. There wasn't much else that qualified as clutter. The room had a single, rickety window situated above the desk, with photos pinned to the top frame, some of which Riku recognized from Facebook, a dresser, and one bookshelf with a precarious backward lean. A standing fan was doing nothing more than blowing muggy air from one corner of the room to the other. Riku also noticed a smaller door next to the room's entrance. It was the size of a cubby, and reminded him of spaces where water heaters were stored. Beyond that, not much else.

The walls seemed pretty thin. Riku could hear the clinking of kitchenware one floor down, then the whine of water pipes paired with the rush of sink water. There was also music filtering in from elsewhere on the second floor.

"Be right back," Sora said before Riku could think of a way to rebut his messy-room comment. "Gonna run to the bathroom and let Roxas know I made it home."

That left Riku in Sora's room, staring uncertainly at a space that felt downright impoverished compared to the rooms in his own West Coast home, or those of any of his friends, for that matter.

He shuffled further into the space, eyes drawn to the papers on Sora's desk. A quick survey showed they were mostly blank, while others contained a list of numbers. Some seemed to be dates, others calculations, sums of rounded, four- and five-digit numbers, but nothing Riku could make any sense of. As the toilet flushed across the hall, Riku glanced out through the window. It overlooked the Strife's backyard, which in itself was unmanicured, a patchwork of grass and dirt and the occasional concrete block that may have once made up a patio near the house's back door. An overgrown tree rose up on one side, branches sagging in the humidity; behind it, a small, dilapidated work shed with a lean rivaling that of Sora's bookshelf.

The bathroom door opened, then clicked closed, and Riku looked away from the window in anticipation of Sora's return. The sound of crutches grew fainter though, soon replaced by a handful of indistinct words in Sora's voice, then a second, curter reply, which sounded like Roxas. As the conversation went on, Riku moved further into the room so his eyes were in line with the bookshelf. He scanned the titles, which seemed to be displayed based more on size and fit than any sort of topical organization system. So too, the genres were a perplexing mix, from cheesy chick-lit to old school, hard science fiction. Many had black sharpie marking their spines, indicating they were library discards. Only one seemed newer. It was situated above the top shelf, spine jutting out, although it was also sporting a label and library barcode.

Riku reached up and grabbed it. He scanned the back summary, then flipped it open, eyes drawn to the title page, which bore a familiar, scrawled name, along with a note from the book's author:

Dear Sora,

Don't deface library books.

—M. Eraqus

"That's an awesome story." Riku almost dropped the book as he turned back toward the door where Sora stood framed. "Have you read it?"

"I'm, uh." Riku glanced down at the book again, eyes scanning the title but mind still an empty slate of blank. " …not much of a reader."

Sora made his way back into his room, leaning his crutches at the foot of his bed before taking a seat at the edge of the mattress. A quick nod of his head had Riku reaching for the desk chair with his free hand, book still clutched white-knuckled in the other.

"It's got a pretty complex plot that some critics say borders on incoherent. Personally, I think it's brilliant. You just have to take the time to really absorb everything and get to know the characters. It forces you to think."

Still unsure how to engage, and for lack of anything better to do, Riku flipped a few pages. The book cover naturally fell open to the title page, as though it'd been at one point bent back. Riku studied the note again.

"You had the author sign a book that didn't belong to you?"

"Well, it's mine now, technically." Sora grinned, but Riku's expression made it clear he still wasn't following. "The author is local. Kind of," Sora amended. "He grew up in Point Rêve and flew in for an event a few years back. I ordered his book online because our local store didn't carry it. Thing is, online shipping doesn't always arrive on time. Not this far out. It was Roxas' idea to check it out of the library. He got our brother, Ven, to drive us to go get it signed. Once the new book arrived, I gave it to the library in exchange for the older, signed copy."

"Oh." Riku looked down at the author's note with fresh understanding. "That's pretty smart, actually."

"Yeah. Sometimes Roxas uses his mind for good." Sora grinned. "I'm pretty sure the author just thought it was funny. You've gotta look hard for it, but under all his deadpan interview answers, I'm convinced he's got a solid sense of dry humor."

Not knowing anything about the author, or the series this book was a part of, Riku realized he had nothing substantive to say. Through the walls, the sound of a familiar song swelled, and Riku was momentarily distracted by the knowledge that it was a tune by a band Riku himself had recently recommended over a camp fire and graham crackers.

Huh.

"Anyway …" Sora shifted where he sat and the mattress sang its own short song in rusty protest. "Do you know what all we're planning to do this weekend? I wasn't sure if I should dress up, down, or all of the above."

"Just bring things you'll be comfortable in." Riku shrugged but then paused. Knowing his mom and the others who were coming, there'd be at least one nicer meal planned. "Maybe one suit just to be safe."

Any promise of a smile fell, along with eye contact as Sora looked down, hands clasped and wringing together in his lap.

"Something wrong?"

"No." Sora shook his head but the look of discomfort stayed with him. "I mean, kind of. I don't own a suit."

"Oh." Riku considered this and came to one quick conclusion. "Lucky."

Sora laughed, but it was a mirthless sound, and Riku realized not even a dry sense of humor would bridge the gap between have and have-not that kept getting established when talking about Riku's West Coast life. The things he owned and took for granted seemed out of reach for Sora and his family.

"Well, you went to church for Easter last weekend, right?" Now he was grasping at straws, but Sora's nod was all the encouragement he needed. "What'd you wear for that?"

"My Sunday pants and a button-up." Sora was quick to answer, but his tone still held a note of doubt. "But they're both hand-me-downs from Ven."

"That'd probably be fine," Riku said, trying to keep his tone light. When Sora's expression didn't change, he tried again. "And if not, we can always bow out and go somewhere else."

Sora finally looked up.

"Yeah?"

"Sure. No big deal."

At the back of his mind, Riku was also wondering something. If Sora didn't boast much by way of dress clothes, what's to say Kairi would? At least the stuff Sora wore didn't draw much attention. It was Kairi's transparent blouses, her frayed skirts, clashing animal print, and eye-sore undergarments that were likely to draw disapproving looks in nicer restaurants—even Prom, although that wasn't something he especially wanted to think about. He made a mental note to talk to his mom and work out any kinks in their weekend plans before they picked Sora and Kairi up Friday. As the children of immigrants, both his parents had come from more working class backgrounds. If anyone could understand Sora's situation, it was his mom. He hoped.

This time, Sora returned Riku's smile. Moments later, his expression transformed, eyes widening, blue igniting.

"Actually, I might have other options. Ven left some of his stuff when he moved out for college. It's all packed up in a box at the back of my closet." He pointed to the small cubby door across the room. "If you don't mind helping me dig it out …"

Riku was on his feet before Sora could finish. Finally, there was something he could do to make himself feel marginally more useful. Behind him, he could hear mattress springs squeak. A glance back confirmed Sora was standing.

"It's cool. I can just grab it and bring it over to you."

"Thanks," Sora replied, but he proceeded to rise to his one good leg and reach for his crutches anyway. "Except, it's not all that simple."

He inclined his head toward the cubby door, which Riku took as his cue to pry open. What met his eyes was a solid mass, of clothes, boxes, and more.

Sora approached, looking far less overwhelmed than Riku felt.

"These old houses don't have much storage, and Roxas took the standing wardrobe when he moved to Ven's room, so a lot of stuff got shoved in here, best I could manage. You'll want to start from the top and work your way down and back." Pointing to the highest visible area, Sora tilted his head and seemed to consider something. "I'm pretty sure I wedged Roxas' skateboard up there to keep the things below it from toppling."

Now that he'd mentioned it, Riku could see the telltale signs of a gravelly skateboard lip. He reached up and cautiously worked it back and forth between both hands until he was able to slide it out. The shoebox-sized storage cartons underneath wobbled a little without the board pressing them into place. One by one, Riku removed boxes of various shapes and sizes. The smell of mildew assaulted his nose, stung his eyes, and the cardboard box felt pliant, almost damp, leaving Riku skeptical that anything they unearthed would be wearable.

Sora seemed more optimistic.

"Almost there." He leaned forward, peering into the musty space, close enough that Riku could feel Sora's breath tickling the hairs on his arm, not to mention wreaking havoc on his tenuous composure. "Heads up! Those are gonna be hard to get out."

Sora pointed to a set of crutch handles wedged against another box and the cubby's back wall. Riku just smiled. Those, difficult? Maybe for someone with smaller 'guns' than he possessed, if Kairi had been remotely honest. He reached in and gathered both handles into one hand, then pulled.

They didn't budge.

Riku pulled again, harder this time. Still no dice.

"Dang, I think the blades might be caught on something."

Riku paused and shot Sora an incredulous look.

"Blades?"

"Mmff." The top half of Sora's body had already disappeared into the cubby, splinted foot lifted as he balanced on his good leg, butt protruding. By the time he reemerged, Riku's cheeks were burning, and Sora was breathing hard from the exertion, dust speckling his arms and shoulders. "Yeah. Kind of. Try again now."

He nodded back toward the cubby. This time, Riku was able to slide the crutches out with relative ease.

That's when he got his first real glimpse of the things. The standard beige handles were actually marigold yellow. The crutches themselves were gray, but the rubber stopper that should've been at the bottom had been replaced with …yeah, blades.

Okay, not exactly. Riku was pretty sure the edges were blunt. Fake-serrated, more like. For a long pause, he just studied them, unsure exactly what he was looking at.

"Are these crutches, or …"

"Or." Sora smiled but didn't elaborate. Reaching over to collect them, he was soon on his way back to the bed. "You should be able to get at Ven's clothing box now. It's the biggest one still in there."

Riku reached in and fished out the box in question. Larger than most of the others he'd already pulled out, it was the only standard-sized moving box in the cubby. He straightened with the box in his arms and studied Sora's expression again.

"So, not crutches?"

Sora shook his head.

"No, they are. An old set my brother and his best friend repurposed way, way back."

Balancing one at the edge of his bed, Sora lifted the other and held it over one shoulder for a moment before extending it in front of him. He made a parrying motion, before lowering it back to the ground.

"Alright, so, when we were little Roxas and I would pretend to be superheroes. I couldn't do a lot of the physical stuff most kids did when they played pretend, so Roxas would make up stories. We were obsessed with anything Disney when we were younger, so we'd pretend to go on adventures based on some of the movies." Riku held his breath as Sora said more and more, tone quiet, gaze distant. "He came up with this concept. Called it a keyblade. It opened doors to each world we wanted to visit and doubled as a weapon. He's always been real inventive …it made me feel like I was part of something when everyone was outside and living their lives and I was stuck in the house."

Sora blinked, and finally seemed to realize how much he'd been talking. Clearing his throat a little, he looked up and offered Riku a lopsided smile.

"That was forever ago. It seems silly now." He looked down. "But for awhile, after my dad left, before we figured things out with my health, it was a lifeline."

Sora set the crutch down slowly, almost lovingly, next to its counterpart, then turned back toward Riku.

"Anyway." He beckoned to Riku, who set the box at the center of the bed. Sora wasted no time taking a seat beside it, sliding two fingers under cardboard, and pulling up the flap. "Roxas and I divvied up the clothes we wanted when Ven moved out. It was t-shirts and some shorts, mostly. This is all that's left."

Riku watched as Sora pulled out an assortment of t-shirts. Most were a single, faded color and short-sleeved, the stretched necklines another hinted indication of each piece's age. A couple looked like they'd been altered, sleeves at least partially removed or torn to create a cutout effect. These were a patchwork of dark stitches, occasional lanes of safety pins spaced a thumbs-width apart from each other.

A jacket came next, the material holding its folded creases in a way that real leather wouldn't. Sora dug in further, rueful smile becoming an outright grin with each newly revealed item. Halfway into the box, he emerged with two cupped palms. In them, a potpourri of dark wristbands, studded with silvery pins, some cheap-looking rings, and a pair of eyeliner pens.

Sora parted his hands, and his brother's belongings tumbled into the folds of the jacket. He looked over at Riku with an impish glint.

"What'd I tell you? So emo. Possibly goth."

Riku just nodded as Sora continued to rummage. The idea of siblings, of going through old clothes to claim some as hand-me-downs, was foreign him. It wasn't just his status as an only child; Riku's family regularly cycled through wardrobes. Clothes were bought and worn until they were out of style. Only a couple items were kept for any great length of time, and these were usually relics, things that held sentimental value.

Moreover, siblings were also a mystery. Kadaj sometimes felt like a brother, especially when he got annoying, but they'd never lived together for longer than a weekend sleepover. Not unless sharing a high-end hotel room counted. Sora's comments were probably just fond reminiscing on his part, but for Riku they offered a fresh look into a life quite unlike his own, insight into what had shaped the boy sitting beside him.

And Roxas.

As if on cue, the song faded out through the bedroom wall, replaced by the opening guitar chords of another, this one more somber.

"Oh, hey!"

A collared shirt came into view, cuffed arm sleeves fluttering. As Sora smoothed it out on his lap, Riku pushed the box away from them and scooted closer. Sora'd found a powder blue button-up. Like everything else, it had noticeable folds but seemed otherwise fine. Sora glanced over, expression hopeful, but all Riku could see was blue. All he could think was how well Sora's eyes would compliment it.

"It'll be a bit warm for long sleeves, but I could roll them up. That might work." Sora held Riku's gaze, brows rising. "You think?"

"Sure."

It was all Riku could manage before Sora pushed off the bed. He had his t-shirt halfway up and over his head before Riku could process what was happening. The skin of Sora's bare stomach greeted Riku's thrumming pulse, his own eyes growing saucer-wide as his mind caught up with the rest of his body.

He tried to conjure an image of something else as Sora tugged his sleeveless undershirt back down, something benign. Harmless, or even revolting to counter-balance. But Riku was having trouble forming thoughts, let alone constructing something more visually complex from scratch. Reminding himself he'd soon be attending Prom with Kairi also wasn't helping, not even the realization that there wasn't anything revealing to see now that Sora's tank had been lowered back to its proper place.

Sora reached for the shirt and went to work unbuttoning it, giving Riku full view of his biceps, faint but visible, each time he bent his arms.

And scars. Most were as subtle as Sora's arm muscles, pale, intermittent streaks on sun-kissed bronze. Riku stared but resisted the urge to reach out and touch one of the larger marks that forked at Sora's elbow, calves tight as he pressed the arches of his feet into the floor in an effort to stay still.

In an instant, the view was gone under powder blue cotton, each button Sora fastened a double-edged sword that wielded both relief and disappointment.

"Oh good. It fits." Sora inclined his chin to his chest as he surveyed himself. "At least, I think."

Riku wet his lips, finally looking at the shirt instead of the person wearing it.

"Mind if I …?"

He stood, made his way over, and smoothed a spot where the material had bunched at Sora's shoulder. Stepping back, he surveyed his work, then offered a stiff nod. Tucked in at the waist, sleeve cuffs buttoned and rolled up, Sora would look even more put together. It'd work better with a tie, but considering how few items of dress clothing Sora seemed to own, Riku decided not to bring it up. Hopefully, his mom and her friends wouldn't go overboard when choosing restaurants to patronize.

"Glad we got that figured out." Sora's smile returned. "I'm pretty sure I can handle the rest on my own."

He pivoted on his good foot, turning back toward the bed, but caught his toe on something that stopped the lower half of him dead in his tracks. That sudden abruptness was unable to curb the rest of his momentum, and Sora windmilled his arms as a last resort. What happened next seemed to both slow time and accelerate it enough that Riku reacted by instinct alone. He stepped forward, scooping Sora up into his arms. It was meant to steady him, but came closer to a hug.

Sora's mouth formed a silent vowel, chest rising and falling at a faster pace than usual. He looked up at Riku whose breath audibly hitched as panic clenched his throat, then tightened its grip.

Is he okay? It doesn't look like he's in pain.

Of all the dumb-ass things you could've…

Mentally, Riku braced himself for a rebuke that didn't come. Sora shifted in front of him, but he didn't pull away. He just exhaled, ducked his head under Riku's chin, cheek resting against the wall of his chest. The hug was returned a moment later, arms wrapping around Riku's sides, then settling at the natural joinder between his hips and waist.

Riku froze, unable to enjoy this unexpected turn of events until he analyzed it half to death, 'til he made absolutely certain he understood Sora's intentions. Because, once again, this felt like more than the proximity that came standard in a budding friendship. It felt electric; his skin prickled with lightning heat that had nothing to do with the ever-present humidity.

And maybe he was still being stupidly naive. Maybe this was all just another cultural misunderstanding, but Riku doubted it—at least, he believed his own interpretation enough to return the hug, arms sliding cautiously around Sora's shoulders.

They stayed still, swaying a little in place, as Riku marveled at the easy rise and fall of Sora's breathing. Inhale. Exhale. He didn't move as Sora's fingers splayed along each side of his spine, exploring the natural line down, then up, finally settling at a happy medium.

This would be the time to kiss, if ever there was one. This was when it always happened in movies, these quiet moments that were meant to seem spontaneous instead of box office-rehearsed, these fleeting seconds filled with the expectation of mutual tenderness.

"I wanted to talk to you about Prom." Sora's words were muffled, almost lost in the folds of Riku's shirt. "I told Kairi I'd—"

"Hey, the oxy's not in the—"

Riku started at the abrupt introduction of a second voice, then froze as his eyes locked on Roxas, who'd managed to get half a sentence out before poking his head around Sora's bedroom door. A second of surprise was fast replaced by an unreadable face. If Riku'd had even one extra second to consider it, he probably would've made comparisons between Sora's direct, honest expressiveness and the emotional void that typically hid any sense of how Roxas felt about a given subject.

"Oh, hi." Sora turned, but he didn't jerk away or try to act like nothing had happened. He just shrugged a little before hobbling back to the bed. "Riku's been helping me find something to wear in case we go someplace fancy for Kairi's birthday."

Riku waited for the other shoe to drop, for a sneer, some standard-issue insults. Maybe something more memorable. This was Roxas, after all, wunderkind of quick comebacks.

Roxas just stood there and said nothing, which was about as much as his expression revealed. He eyed Riku, and Riku imagined he saw the tightening of cheek over jaw. It was too subtle to confirm for sure, so Riku looked back, not so much answering a silent challenge as refusing to back down or downplay what Roxas had just witnessed.

"Finger's been acting up." Roxas waved his hand, splinted in blue and silver. Although it was clear he was talking to Sora, his eyes stayed on Riku, seemingly unimpressed, and dark in the room's weak lighting. "Been hard to focus on homework."

Sora's face was a spectrum of expressions, most of which Riku couldn't read. Sora seemed to be struggling, mentally debating something. Eventually, he inclined his head toward his backpack.

"Front pouch."

Riku might not have understood, but Roxas clearly did. He wasted no time in grabbing the bag and unzipping the front pocket with his good hand. Riku heard a rattle, saw a flash of translucent orange before Roxas turned and sauntered back to the door.

"As y'all were." His drawl was pronounced, expression sly and coming to life for the first time that day. "Though good thing Kairi's less inclined toward jealousy than she is to tacky clothes and clashing nails, innit?"

He left them standing a few feet apart from each other, speechless, mouths open, and a rising flush fast coloring both of their dumbfounded expressions.

o - o

They left Radiant Hollow's city limits behind an hour after school let out Friday. There was just enough time to get home and pack the car, then head to the Strife's house, In sum, it was more than enough for Riku to regret this entire, impulsive idea.

Because it'd be Bay Area family and friends, plus Sora and Kairi. Worlds colliding for a solid two full days. He tried to remind himself why he'd thought inviting his classmates had been such a great plan again, especially after catching his mom's surprised expression when Kairi appeared on the porch, Sora behind her, crutches in damning display as he made his way down the ramp over to them. Riku could practically hear his mom's mental gears turning double-time. No wonder her son had suddenly started taking such an interest in orthopedic medicine.

Sora quickly made a case for himself with a big smile and his inborn ability to charm. A few polite words, a little self-deprecating humor, eyes downcast toward his foot, and Riku's mom seemed more or less sold. And though she let Sora lead the conversation, even Kairi responded to their initial small-talk politely enough. She and Sora trundled into the Mercedes' after a quick round of introductions. Sora sat sideways, back against the door, his injured leg resting across Kairi's lap for the duration of the drive.

For some time, Riku just listened as his mom asked standard, get-to-know-you questions, savoring the crisp stream of air conditioning against his face. Sora responded to each inquiry in turn, that, yes, he and Kairi were Radiant Hollow natives and Senior year had been fun but he was looking forward to the summer months before college. His tone was light, the words themselves methodic, just like how he'd talked to Riku the first few weeks they were getting to know each other. Riku let his mom ask questions mostly without comment, eyes fixed out the window. Roxas had left them in an awkward spot the night before, faces flushed, neither willing, or maybe able, to navigate the minefield of conflicting feelings that had arisen after his exit.

Words existed for what Riku was feeling, and most were relatively simple. However minimal, the risk that the underlying sentiment might not be returned kept him silent, the questions about how that fit into the prospect of attending a school dance matched with someone other than Sora left unasked.

Maybe Sora was embarrassed about being caught in a compromising position in front of his brother, Riku reasoned, but he hadn't actually seemed ashamed. Despite San Francisco's reputation as a progressive haven, Riku had overheard enough offensive comments passed off as jokes to know that Sora's reaction didn't jibe with the image of a guy trying to distance himself from an attraction viewed by his peers as undesirable or wrong.

They slowed where the road branched, with routes to New Orleans, Lakes Charles, and Shreveport laid out in front of them. His mom chose the easternmost exit as Riku skimmed the text on a sign listing the distances between approaching cities. He scanned past Traverse - 20 and a town he'd never heard of sixty miles further, down to the final destination. New Orleans: 145 miles left.

The landscape became denser for the first half hour. Eventually, the marshland receded as though shrinking away from Traverse Town's outer bounds. It didn't take long for Riku to start making comparisons between Traverse and Radiant Hollow. He quickly came to the conclusion that, although larger, Traverse was still a small town linked to an even more rural Radiant Hollow by veins of winding and narrow, no-shoulder roadways. It was also the route to the nearest interstate, putting into perspective how far removed he'd been from anything resembling an honest-to-god city these past few weeks.

Traverse soon ceded to unincorporated territory, wetlands with glassy-still surfaces that reflected the afternoon light, the sun's rays splayed out on either side of the car's windshield. The trees soon became sparser, grass taller. There was a quiet calm in the car, radio humming at a low volume and tuned to a classical station that was slightly out of range. The rise and fall of viola chords punctuated a soft static undercurrent.

Out his side mirror, Riku could see Kairi in outline, an occasional flicker of a head dyed red in the late afternoon light of a setting sun. Beyond that, it was hard to make out details except when the car turned at the right time and angle, but Riku could still see enough to note the earbuds lazily swaying at either side of her face.

Sora was harder to see without being an obvious creep. The one time that Riku'd had the nerves to glance back, Sora's eyes were aimed down at a book in his lap, an item that at some point between one town and the next he must have quietly fished out of his backpack.

A curve in the road introduced an entirely new visual, this time a house, albeit not one that looked remotely habitable. The closer they got, the more Riku could see that the structure was more reality than mirage, despite the sunset's warping capabilities. It came off as no less odd with the benefit of a closer look. Its roof sloped up at both ends, then down in the middle like it was sinking, and its exterior paint was chipped and discolored where it still existed at all. The foundation was visibly upended, giving Riku the distinct impression of a cresting wave of cement, now frozen.

"That looks like it could be hurricane damage," his mom commented.

Riku vaguely knew about Louisiana's history of inclement weather, having performed a cursory internet search prior to his family's relocation. He understood its after-effects like a history student, able to summon facts and figures without really understanding their real-world impact on the people who'd lived through it.

"Katrina?" he asked.

"And Gustav." A spike of heat shot through Riku's stomach as Sora joined the conversation. "Maybe a couple of others in between. We've had heaps of storms recently, little and big."

"Such a shame." His mother shook her head. "I remember seeing news about a couple of them. How hard was Radiant Hollow hit?"

"Not as bad as some places, but we had our fair share of damage. Third Baptist Church lost half a roof when a tree went through it. That took the restoration committee weeks to replace after they'd raised enough building funds. But the flooding was what had people evacuating after the levees broke. School was suspended for awhile and everything."

Riku listened to Sora's matter-of-fact response. It was like he was reciting something he'd heard secondhand, rather than an event he'd survived. Riku tried to imagine living with such uncertainty about often unpredictable, sometimes fatal weather conditions, wondered whether Sora mourned the loss of beaches and shorelines along the Gulf. One day, if things didn't change, there'd probably be nothing left of coastal Louisiana, nowhere for families like the Strifes to return to. Thousands of people displaced on a permanent basis.

"That must be hard," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone in particular. The prospect of forced relocation seemed discouraging, to say the least. Same for knowing you'd have to start over through no choice of your own.

"Are earthquakes?"

"Um." Riku shifted in his seat, hand readjusting the seatbelt strap. "No. Or I guess people don't really worry about stuff like that too much. If it happens, it happens, and we deal with it after if it causes any damage."

"Well, same here."

The implication that he was being teased made Riku's neck heat up despite the car's liberal use of air conditioning.

Except not, the stubborn part of Riku's mind forged on. Because earthquakes were truly unpredictable. Storms you could usually see coming, so the lack of effective counter-measures was a more complex issue, in his view, especially when the government opted to do next to nothing despite ample warning time. He and Sora had yet to talk politics at any great length; everyone in his own social circle usually defaulted to liberal, but Riku wasn't sure where Sora stood on these things. He was sure he didn't want to find out his assumptions were wrong while stuck in a car with two new friends and his mom.

Whether by an act of clairvoyance or simple, lucky chance, Sora offered an out from this worrisome thought process.

"It's sad when older buildings end up damaged or destroyed. They're part of our history that we can't get back. We can renovate and rebuild, but something still feels like it gets lost in the process."

A soft sound of agreement from Riku's mom followed a lull in the conversation when Riku found himself at a loss as to how to respond himself. Northern California's last big earthquake had taken place in the eighties, well before he was born. Its famous, devastating precursor was more than a hundred years removed, totally remote, and taught as part of San Francisco's early history in school. It was nothing more than a few black and white photos in a schoolbook. The occasional, three-second rumbling of ground that made everyone stop in their tracks and exchange questioning glances before returning to their normal routine couldn't possibly compare to a town finding itself several feet underwater as recently as five years prior.

For awhile they drove in silence, and Riku tried to make sense of how different two places in the same single country could be. Eventually, Sora spoke again.

"But Riku, hey. You'll get to see something that survived the hurricanes at Prom in a couple weeks. A real piece of Southern history." At this, Riku's ears pricked up, but probably not for the reason Sora might have thought. Until he figured out how to handle the prospect of being linked romantically to Kairi, even just temporarily, references to Prom just made him feel awkward. "We'll be at The Petes Plantation, just a few miles past Traverse."

Riku felt the weight of a gaze. He glanced up to see his mother studying him.

"I didn't know you were going to Prom."

Right, yeah. He actually hadn't gotten around to telling her that yet, still unsure how to phrase it in a way that both acknowledged Kairi and maintained at least a minor semblance of much-coveted privacy about his love-life. Or lack thereof, in this case.

Sora didn't seem to share the same qualms about sharing info of this nature with an adult.

"Oh yeah, we're all three going. Riku's taking Kairi, and I'm just tagging along stag this time around."

"You're taking …" His mom stopped as though thinking better of voicing her thoughts. Riku shot her a look.

"What?"

Yeah, that totally didn't sound defensive.

He waited for his mom to latch onto her chance to interrogate him. Thus far, they hadn't had a talk about him dating, his mom having always assumed he'd gotten the gist in middle school health class, but Riku held no illusions that this would continue as he got older, especially if she thought it might affect his grades during college.

"I assumed …" Mercifully, perhaps noting that they weren't alone in the car, she paused again and opted to finish the thought with a shrug and a quick, "you've just never expressed an interest in taking anyone to a dance before."

Yeah, thanks. For the love of all things sacred, please don't—

"I'm fine with you taking a young lady. I wasn't judging, just surprised." His mom smiled to herself. "Whatever floats your boat."

If only a sinkhole would open up directly under the flippin' Mercedes before …

Too late. Even with her earbuds in, Riku had little to no confidence Kairi wasn't listening. He pressed his back into the car seat, shoulders stiff, jaw tense, willing the conversation to end before got even further out of hand.

For once, his appeal was granted. After a few tense seconds, Riku heard the crackling of a plasticky book jacket and could only assume Sora had returned to his reading. His mom, in turn, reached out and twisted the stereo volume knob. The signal was clearer now, orchestral score crisp and harmonious.

No sooner had he made this observation, a phone notification came through. Riku glanced down at his lap.

"I hope you know your mom is ten kinds of awesome."

Sora's text was followed by a tooth-baring emoji.

He wanted to look back, to see if Sora was joking, but Riku couldn't muster the courage to turn. He reread the text, then considered his options, which he organized into a list of possible responses:

1) Succinctly agree and watch the conversation die in its infancy—alternatively, and far worse, be forced into a longer conversation about his mom. Not awkward at all.

2) Change the subject (not that he was thinking on his feet well enough to have any idea what else to talk about).

3) Play it safe by being somewhat vague. Maybe by the time Sora replied, he'd be able to think of something less ambiguous to say.

Still ambivalent about the right course of action, Riku returned a one-word 'sometimes' along with a simple sideways text smilie.

"Looks like we're nearly there."

Riku looked over at his mom, then out the front windshield, fingers moving over the phone's keyboard by memory before sending the text. Sure enough, the view in front of them was fast changing. Gone were the long stretches of rural, marshy land as suburbia crept in. It was nothing all that striking, but there was suddenly something to see other than swampland and a four-lane highway. After over two hours of ubiquitous marshes, that in itself felt noteworthy.

He glanced down, saw that Sora had typed something.

A …sad face?

It took him a second to realize he was reading his own text, and that the three dots below it meant Sora was typing something that hadn't yet been sent.

Shit.

One stupid emoticon changed the message's entire meaning. One dumb parenthesis, actually.

"That was supposed to be a smile," he sent back to clarify.

Feeling dumber by the second, he also sent off another text with the intended emotion.

If Sora hadn't thought he was a moron before, he might be reevaluating that stance by the drive's end.

The dots paused, reappeared, then vanished again. Convinced he'd blown whatever chance he'd had at a normal text chat, Riku looked back out the window. This was how many times he'd acted socially inept in the span of a month?

At least there were things to look at now. Buildings came into view, spaced closer together and growing progressively larger the further East they went. An interim between city and suburbs.

"It's too bad we aren't coming from the North," his mom said. "I've heard great things about crossing into the city from the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway."

Her eyes rose to the rearview window.

"Have either of you gone across it?"

Sora and Kairi shook their heads in unison.

"No, ma'am," Sora answered. "Can't say I have."

"Xion probably has. She's got family up in Mandeville, just north of the lake."

It was the first time Kairi'd spoken since their initial introductions in the Strife's yard. If Riku assumed this would lead to a longer conversation between her and his mom, he was sorely off-mark. As they exited the highway and merged onto another, his mom's next comment was directed at Riku.

"Can you send Yuka a text to let her know we're almost there? If she wants to get dinner, even better."

Looking down at his phone for the first time since the Great Emoticon Fuckup of Spring 2015, Riku saw that Sora had finally responded with one of his own. He considered the yellow emoji, tried to control the butterflies in his stomach at the implications of a pixelated tongue and a winking face. Grateful for something to do other than over-analyze this latest message, Riku opened a new text and send off his mom's requested message to his aunt. He considered responding to Sora but couldn't even guess where to go from there. Sora wasn't Kadaj, so he doubted having an entirely image-based conversation would be the best course of action.

With more cars and buildings than he'd seen in the combined past three weeks, Riku found himself actively watching their entry into the city instead, eyes scanning road signs that listed other nearby cities he'd never heard of.

The highway curved left, they crossed a small bridge, and the city of New Orleans finally came into view in front of them.

More spread out than San Francisco, New Orleans' skyline was a patchwork of residential blocks to his right and skyscrapers on the driver's side. Out of the corner of one eye, Riku could see Sora in profile. He seemed just as transfixed by the view, and Riku took a moment to remind himself how little Sora had gotten to travel beyond Radiant Hollow and the surrounding towns. He felt a pang of guilt about a situation he couldn't fix, interrupted by the buzz of an inbound text.

"They haven't eaten yet," he told his mom. "They want to try the hotel's main restaurant. That okay?"

His mother nodded, and Riku shot off a response. They exited the freeway onto a city street, and Riku got his first real taste of New Orleans from the ground.

His initial impression: it looked a little like a hybrid of Gone With the Wind and the Parisian suburbs.

A close second: the road had built-in rail tracks.

"I didn't know New Orleans had streetcars," Riku blurted.

"Frisco doesn't have a monopoly on old-fashioned public transit," Kairi replied as she popped one earbud out after the other and wound them around her finger.

"Canal Street runs through a historic neighborhood," Sora explained as Riku's mom smiled, whether at the exchange of words or her son's cowed expression, Riku didn't know. "It's also touristy. Lots of hotels and souvenir shops."

So, basically Union Square back home, with way more twang and humidity.

The road was like a winding canal itself, a divide between two sidewalks and their corresponding streams of pedestrians. The Mercedes didn't look out of place in this setting, and the closer they got to the hotel the more Riku noticed other luxury vehicles, a gaudy parade of Porsche SUVs, Audi coupes, and BMW convertibles. Riku even thought he caught a glimpse of an S-series Tesla, the bread and butter transportation of the Bay Area's moneyed eco-conscious. Muffled, tinny beats from colorful street performers jarringly mingled with classical refrains of the songs on the car's radio station. The sounds thrummed at his temples, warring for attention.

It was a lively setting, without question, brimming with all the possibility and excitement that came with visiting new destinations. Yet the closer they got to the hotel, the more Riku's heart raced, leaving his face hot, neck tight. Only a few minutes out, he could almost see his visiting family and friends; likewise, Riku's mind was starting to run wild over how their first encounter with Sora and Kairi might go down. Neku'd be antisocial and refuse to remove his headphones. Kadaj would say something pigheaded or unintentionally offensive. The girls would be catty, his mom would find some opportunity to ask Sora about his health. Aunt Yuka and her friends would complain about every little facet of their five-star hotel and interpret anything they deemed unsatisfactory as unforgivable insults.

Not for the first time, Riku found himself wondering why he'd opened his mouth and invited Sora and Kairi to come.

It only got worse when the hotel came into view: a whole, regal half block of sparkling concrete and accented marble. It was a proud blend of architecture that was equal parts modern and bygone. Nothing was atypical about this; in fact, as far as vacation stays went, this was on the more modest end of his aunt's preferences. Riku supposed he should be grateful she hadn't rented out half the French Quarter.

Looking at this from Sora's perspective though, it was all Riku could do to maintain a level expression as his mom pulled up to the main entrance and exchanged a couple words with the valet. An entire service team soon arrived, opening passenger doors and removing luggage. Mentally, Riku shrunk. All these niceties came standard with hotels like this, but for the first time in his life he found himself worried about what an outsider might think.

The hotel lobby didn't provide any relief. The ceiling was at least three stories high, supported by golden arches and columns, around which hotel staff overburdened with designer suitcases and rolling bags scurried after their respective guests. Beneath them, grand marble flooring sprawled, art deco shapes etched in every slabbed panel.

His mom took the lead, a pair of bellhops following as Riku took up the rear to accommodate Sora's slower pace. He couldn't bring himself to look at Sora, afraid of what his expression might reveal about all of this. Next to him, Riku could see Kairi without having to actively seek her out. Her head was tilted upward, eyebrow arched as she surveyed the lobby. Definitely judging.

"Ayumi! Finally."

Riku heard his Aunt Yuka before he saw her. Between her impatient tone and the staccato clicking of her Manolos, not much seemed to have changed since they'd moved away. She was still a primmer, more high-strung version of her older sister. The two women briefly embraced in a careful encircling of arms over designer blouses. Riku and his friends approached while the bellhops waited off to one side, stridently blank-faced.

"Mai and Rena have already been seated, along with the boys. The girls should be down any minute. You don't mind waiting until after dinner to freshen up, I hope?"

His mom shook her head, and Yuka's eyes quickly traveled over to Riku, then stopped dead on his friends. At first, she said nothing, just studied them. It was a different kind of judgment, but not all that different from Kairi's own guarded look. As far as foreshadowing went, this wasn't the best indication that Riku's concerns weren't unwarranted. It also wasn't helping that his aunt had yet to utter a single word in English and shared Kadaj's trademark expression that varied on a spectrum between distracted and dispassionate.

"These are Riku's friends I told you about the last time we talked." As though sensing the potential for tension, his mom quickly launched into introductions, no nonsense. "Sora and Kairi. They both go to school with Riku."

Yuka made a non-committal sound, then returned her attention to her nephew.

"Riku, sweetie, you don't mind waiting for the girls to come down, do you?" Her smile was saccharine, and Riku felt his cheeks heat as she continued in a rapid flurry of Japanese. "We'll place an order for drinks and you can join us in a few minutes, alright?"

"Hai." Riku inclined his head, a dual acknowledgment of respect and embarrassment. His aunt hadn't said anything to his friends. While this wasn't necessarily an issue in Japanese social culture, it would've been a nice gesture to have at least acknowledged their presence. He glanced up long enough to lock eyes with his mom, who merely shrugged as though reading his thoughts. She offered a string of instructions to both bellhops, along with a tip of crisp, folded bills held out between two fingers. Then she and Yuka were off.

That left Riku to wait for his longtime friends in an opulent lobby between Sora and Kairi.

"This place is really …" Sora looked up, elbows locked on either side of his crutches. "Large?"

Kairi cleared her throat.

"It's something, that's for darn sure."

That didn't sound remotely like a compliment, from either of them.

He wanted to apologize. For his aunt's behavior, definitely, maybe also about not giving them a heads up about what to expect. Now it felt too late. Kairi looked a blend of unimpressed and vexed, and Sora's expression was hesitant, clouded with the apprehension of someone who didn't feel comfortable in the setting he now found himself.

"Shouldn't we go to our room and change into something nicer for dinner? I don't know about y'all two, but I feel a tad underdressed."

Sora wasn't wrong. All around them, hotel guests were dressed to the nines. This wasn't exactly the right time of year or climate for fur coats, and yet Riku spotted several, especially among white-haired guests. At least Kairi was wearing something that looked vaguely like a dress. In his standard t-shirt and baggy jeans, Sora definitely appeared out of place and was garnering looks of his own as people passed them, but maybe that was just the crutches. Or both.

This also felt stupid. Riku had learned not to judge people by their choice of clothes back home pretty quickly. How many people in San Francisco wore torn-up jeans and looked like certifiable hobos but turned out to be some sort of VC-funded startup CEO?

"You're fine," he said. "I doubt the restaurant has a strict dress code."

At least, that was the hope. The last thing he wanted was for Sora to feel even more uncomfortable because of his poor judgment.

An elevator bell chimed off to their right, and two familiar faces appeared amid a crowd of taller people. With her glitzy red flapper dress, modified with a cutout just above a trace of navel, Eri was easy enough to locate. She wore beaded ballet flats and seemed fully engrossed in a one-sided conversation with the girl beside her.

Unlike Eri, Shiki was dressed casually, her capris and outer wrap-jacket less fitted than it was loose and flowing. She was currently scanning the lobby through large prescription glasses. Her face brightened the moment she found Riku. Waving a little, she hooked arms with Eri and led her friend toward them, Eri still chattering.

"Riku!"

Eri broke away and made a beeline toward him, arms outstretched. She pulled him into a hug, kissing both sides of his face European-style before stepping back. Shiki's hug was more restrained. Her eyes darted from Riku to Sora and Kairi as she tucked a piece of chin-length hair behind one ear, brows rising.

Two worlds, one go-between. Oh, right.

He introduced one set of friends to the other, then lapsed into a silence that lasted just long enough to feel awkward.

"Everyone's already at the restaurant. Did you want to …" When no one moved or said anything, Riku fanned a hand at the general direction he'd seen his mom and aunt walk off in. "I mean, we should probably, you know ...yeah?"

Without a word, Eri grabbed Shiki's hand and gestured to the others. Kairi was the first to move, opting to join the girls in front of Riku and Sora, who trailed a couple steps behind them.

Positioning herself between Shiki and Kairi, Eri led them across the lobby, eyes shifting between the two of them with a curious glint that Riku knew meant she was about to throw a wrench into whatever hopes for an uncomplicated evening he'd been desperately trying to grasp at.

"Omigosh, so, I just have to ask. Who are you wearing?"

Neck craned toward Kairi, Eri gave the girl an obvious once-over from shoulder to toe.

"Pardon?"

Kairi looked back, expression still guarded.

Behind them, Riku swallowed hard, then really took a moment to scrutinize Kairi's outfit for the first time that day. It was slightly less cringeworthy than usual; no bra straps were showing, at least. She was in a simple striped shirt under a cottony black dress with spaghetti straps. Nothing all that special, in Riku's mind, although it did remind him of something someone might wear on a rerun of Saved By The Bell. By all accounts, it was pretty conservative.

That didn't mean it was in any way fashion-forward, and Eri wasn't exactly known for being all that tactful when she formed an opinion.

"Your clothes," Eri prompted. When Kairi looked at her and still didn't respond, Eri shimmied closer and slipped a finger under the collar of Kairi's t-shirt. "Let me just …oh. No label?"

"Right." Kairi's eyes narrowed. "I didn't buy it at a store. My mom made it."

Eri's eyes widened. Now would be the time to cut in, Riku figured, to change the subject before anyone got insulted.

"Seriously?"

To her left, Shiki chimed in and Riku's mind drew a blank on anything he might say to avert the impending social trainwreck. At Kairi's curt nod, Eri and Shiki exchanged looks.

"When'd she make it?"

"The nineties, most probably."

Neither girl seemed to notice the sharp edge to Kairi's tone that to Riku was a clear sign to change the damn subject.

"So, it's one of a kind, and—" Shiki looked over at Eri who joined in, their voices overlapping, one ending the sentence in the form of a question, the other a firm verdict. "—vintage."

"Yeah." Kairi shrugged, eyes traveling up to the restaurant's archway entrance, her uncertainty finally showing. "I guess."

"Omigosh! Shiki and I are designers."

Skipping up to a surprised Kairi, Eri wrapped an arm over her shoulders like they'd known each other for years.

"Aspiring," Shiki cut in.

"Whatever." Eri rolled her eyes but didn't seem especially bothered. "You have to tell us everything you know about fashion and sewing, okay? Promise. Oh look, there's Kadaj!"

"I …alright?"

Kairi now bore a startled look as Eri pulled her forward toward the table where Riku's family and friends were seated. Shiki scurried to keep up.

Beside him, a quiet laugh. Riku hazarded a quick glance at Sora who happened to be grinning. He looked up at Riku and copied Kairi's shrug.

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition."

Without another word, he hobbled into the restaurant. Riku hurried to follow, mind working double-time, still trying to fully comprehend what he had just witnessed.