Background Information:

Twilight City: One of the world's largest cities composed of two boroughs: New Twilight (the inner ring/modern downtown core) and Twilight Town (the outer ring/charming outskirts).

Twilight: A successful lifestyle magazine celebrating the communities of New Twilight and Twilight Town and their local eateries, events, home/fashion trends, and more.

Tron: a well-known video game developer originally founded in Radiant Garden.

Note: The following AU contains references (but not spoilers) to objects/worlds in Kingdom Hearts III.

The beginning of the end (or at least the supposed end) began on the night of August 22nd at roughly 6:04PM, when Naminé Sato would come home from work to find her shared apartment unit nearly emptied save for the basic necessities needed to survive.

But of course, Naminé at 5:16PM had no warning of the apocalyptic events to come. As far as she was concerned, life couldn't get any better.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you so much for this opportunity. Yes. Thank you. I will. Orientation at 9 A.M. sharp. Mhm. Thank—oh, I said that already, haha. Just… thank you once again. Okay, yes, thank you, bye!"

After Naminé at 5:17PM ends the call, she stares at her gummiphone in silence for a few moments, allots herself five seconds to fully accept the situation, then lets out a relieved breath that she wasn't even aware of holding.

"That was an awful lot of thank you's on your end," Pence, her co-worker and close friend, points out while cleaning one of his camera lenses.

"I just got a call back from Twilight," Naminé says, but the words come out in a shocked whisper.

Pence's eyebrows visibly rise. "You mean… like the successful lifestyle magazine?"

"Like the successful lifestyle magazine," Naminé repeats with a weak nod. "A designer position opened up at their office in New Twilight about a month ago."

"And did you apply for it?" Pence asks excitedly.

"I did," Naminé answers, "and I had my interview last week. I never told anyone in case it didn't go anywhere, but…"

"But?" Pence urges dramatically.

"I got it," Naminé whispers, still shocked by how the words escape her mouth.

"Wow Nams, congratulations!" Pence says as he offers her a supportive pat on the back. "I told you that all those freelance contracts and late nights in the studio were going to pay off eventually! You know as well as I do that having Twilight on your resume is going to open so many doors for you."

The artists' cheeks visibly flush a rosy pink as a smile spreads across her face at the sound of opportunity. She'd grown up reading Twilight magazines, always intrigued by their innovative layouts, lively photography, and playfully chic illustrations that celebrated home. Working for them would be nothing short of a dream come true.

As she tucks a few strands of platinum blonde hair behind her ear, Naminé stares out into the two-storey windows of her current studio and breathes in the charming outskirts of Twilight Town. In the distance, New Twilight, the downtown heart of Twilight city, becomes a shimmering mirage that welcomes her with opportunity.

"I'm finally getting my big break in the city," she whispers.

"Not to be a downer, but you know what happens when your career starts going really well," Pence reminds with caution, and Naminé turns to face him with suspicion. "Your personal life is about to go down the drain."

THE EVENT HORIZON
one | what goes up

Six months later

Naminé lays on her living room sofa, paralyzed from head to toe.

On her coffee table lays a partially empty takeout box, an empty glass, two nearly-emptied coffee cups, and one empty bucket of ice cream; however, despite the mess, the remainder of the apartment remains untouched.

It is, however, much emptier than she's accustomed to.

She hears a pair of keys jam into the lock but cannot will herself to grace her guest with even a mere glance. Her eyes may have been fixated onto the TV screen, but her mind is worlds away.

"Still in the same oversized shirt and sweatpants from yesterday I see," says Naminé's guest, and judging by the swift, yet quiet footsteps, it was none other than her neighbour Tifa who lived just next door with her husband (and Naminé's older cousin) Cloud and two adopted children. As her neighbour begins to clean the mess on her coffee table, Naminé attempts to insist that she can take care of it herself but struggles to even lift the blanket off her lap.

"Okay, that's it," Tifa decides when she throws out the last of the candy wrappers. She takes the remote out of the artists' hand without much of a fight and turns the TV off behind her. "Look, I understand that he left with nothing but some stupid note and all, but enough is enough. You've been throwing yourself into your work during the weekdays and torturing yourself over the weekends for far too long. You can't keep going through these motions, Naminé. It's not healthy for you."

"I'll be fine," the artist insists weakly. "Just as long as I get some rest."

"Rest?" Tifa asks incredulously. "You've been resting for six months! You need to get out there again and, you know, socially interact with people. Reconnect with your inner circle."

"I'm socially interacting with you right now," Naminé points out while sheathing herself in her blanket even more.

Tifa merely sighs in defeat. "You're not getting out, are you?" When the artist defiantly shakes her head, Tifa cracks her knuckles and cranes her neck to the side as if she were preparing for another one of her martial arts tournaments. "I figured you'd say that, so I brought reinforcements."

At the word "reinforcements", Naminé hears her front door open once again (she briefly considers how many people she's given a spare key to at this) and hears the familiar click clack of high heels against her hardwood floor. Her girlfriends Selphie and Olette, still clad in their work attire, enter the premises, the former holding her emergency makeup kit from work and the latter holding some article of clothing from the dry cleaners.

"An intervention? Really?" Naminé asks as Selphie sets up her kit on the—now—empty coffee table.

"Well we can't just let you mope here and eat more clichés," Olette explains as she removes Naminé's blanket and clips her hair back into a bun. At this, the artist can't help but notice the engagement ring on Olette's left hand and compares it to her situation. If she had been more careful, would she be in Olette's position? Would he have stayed?

"Is that why he left?" the artist eventually croaks. "Is there something wrong with me? Was I not good enough or something?"

"Of course not," Olette answers immediately. "He's just intimidated by your success. You landed a great job at Twilight. Some men want to be the alpha in the relationship, but he probably felt like you overpowered him in terms of career. It's not you at all, Nams."

"And now it's finally time to start fighting back," Selphie encourages.

"There is no fight," Naminé says, misty-eyed. "I've been lying on my couch feeling twenty pounds heavier than before. He's already won."

"You wrongly assume that this fight is against Riku," Selphie says while priming the artist's face and uttering the very name that made her cringe. "But it's really for you against this pessimistic side of yourself. Riku is no competition here."

"Yeah. No one likes a passive protagonist, Nams!" Olette reminds optimistically.

"So now what?" the artist whimpers. "How do I fight back?"

"In the long run? You keep making good art. Do the very thing that threatened him. Show the world that despite this incident, you can still express your passion," Selphie answers.

"This may be the most enlightening conversation I've ever heard Selphie participate in," Tifa murmurs to Olette who nods in agreement.

"But if you want to start fighting back now," Selphie starts with a sly grin, "then I suggest we all hit up the club and have some random but really hot guy vigorously appreciate your body and fuck the depression out of you."

"And there goes the moment of wisdom," Tifa says as she claps her hands together.

"Yeah, I'm gonna give that a hard pass," Naminé says. Selphie merely crosses her arms and huffs in disappointment.

"It's a pass for me too," Tifa says. "Cloud's got a late delivery tonight and I need to watch the kids."

"Can't you take the kids with you?" Selphie whines.

"Denzel is ten and Marlene is six," Olette reminds, mortified.

"Yeah, hard pass," Tifa repeats as she makes her way to the door. "My job here is done. Let me know how this mess plays out!" When the door shuts behind her, Naminé turns her attention back to her two girlfriends.

"So we actually did find a way to get you off your couch," Olette announces. "One that doesn't involve meaningless sex with a hot guy."

"Don't knock it 'til you try it," Selphie murmurs as she continues to work on Naminé's makeup.

"Really?" Naminé sniffles in response to Olette. "What is it?"

Olette and Selphie share a mutual nod before sharing the news.

"Well we figured you needed a new distraction," Selphie starts, "so we searched for some freelancing opportunities and submitted your information to a job we think you'd be perfect for!"

"What?" Naminé practically screeches.

"We thought that more work on your portfolio couldn't hurt," Olette further reasons, "and these clients are from Tron: you know, the famous video game developer? This may just be for an unrelated side project, but those are good contacts to have. It's definitely a project worth considering."

"What are they even looking for?" Naminé questions.

"The posting was just for a designer," Selphie explains, "so probably a wide range of artwork? They specifically said that they would only give details to selected candidates. Sounds like some top secret project or something."

"I think sketchy would be a better term," Naminé mumbles.

"Hey, I wouldn't close the door on this entirely," Olette advises. "You were one of the selected candidates. They were very impressed with your online portfolio."

Naminé's eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. "What? How did they even get access to that? How did they contact you? How did you even apply?"

"A fake email, a draft of your old resume that you asked us to review, and you haven't changed the password of your portfolio in months," Selphie answers while blowing at her nails nonchalantly.

"But that was just a draft of my resume," Naminé argues. "That wasn't even the real deal."

"And yet they still wanted to meet with you!" Olette exclaims. "Sounds like you got this job in the bag if you ask me."

Naminé buries her face into her hands. "Ugh, I don't know guys. This is all so sudden. I need some time to think about it."

"Well you better decide fast because your interview is tomorrow at 12:15," Selphie announces sheepishly. Naminé only looks at her with her jaw agape.

"Oh come on Nams," Olette encourages. "Try something new and broaden your horizons! Or, at the very least, just do the interview. If you decide that it's not for you, then you can decline. It's not like it's set in stone or anything. It's just another door that you can open if you choose."

The artist hugs her knees and contemplates over what she would do if she rejected the offer. Realistically, there was nothing that her empty apartment could offer her but spite. There were no more frozen or chocolatey clichés lying around in the kitchen, and she was almost certain that she'd absentmindedly watched all the recently added movies available on Webflix. All that was left for her to do was lie on her couch while thoughts of The Incident resurfaced and consumed her both physically and mentally.

Perhaps the girls were right to try and break her monotonous (and quite frankly depressing) routine. She'd moved to the city with her friends to tackle it head on, and she'd worked too hard to let opportunities slip right through her fingers. Besides, all she had to do was give this side project a chance. She didn't necessarily have to take it, but perhaps it could be something worth her while.

"Alright," she finally caves. "Let's do it."

"Yay!" Selphie cheers. "I think this calls for a celebration. Onward to the club?"

She only receives cringes in response.

"You have to admit it's a little extreme," Olette sheepishly admits. "Clubbing isn't really our scene."

"Ugh, fine," Selphie caves. "But I still think that we should go out. Nams needs some air."

"How about dinner followed by a visit to The Usual Spot?" Olette suggests.

At the mention of their favourite board game café, Selphie nods in approval.

"And you, Naminé? Are you in?" Olette asks. "I guarantee that our intention isn't to have you leave with some random stranger."

"Well—" Selphie starts.

"I guarantee it," Olette insists through gritted teeth.

Naminé only chuckles at their bickering and nods. "I'm in."

Unlike Naminé Sato, Roxas Akiyama had every intention of bringing home a random stranger almost every Friday night.

Just not tonight.

Tonight at The Usual Spot, he had actual business matters to tend to.

"Red," his best friend (and co-worker) Axel says while skilfully removing a wooden block from his Jenga tower. "Colour-calling" was a little game that they enjoyed playing at the bar when scouting for women, but because Roxas himself is so immersed in an excel sheet on his laptop, he temporarily forgets where is and looks up out of habit only to have his eyes land upon a little six-year-old girl wearing a red dress a few tables over.

"You're disgusting," Roxas says with a disapproving headshake. While The Usual Spot may have been renowned for its industrial design and worldwide selection of coffee, its vast collection of board games also attracted customers of all ages.

Axel merely chortles at his best friend's misery and leans an elbow against the edge of their table. "What? I'm telling you, this café is lowkey the best place to pick up chicks," he continues jokingly. "Little red is killing it in Dusks and Ladders right now. You know being good at board games is a huge turn on for me."

"You know what I find surprising?" Roxas asks while removing his reading glasses. His co-worker merely responds with a shrug. "That in all the years I've known you, you've never been arrested."

"What can I say? I'm a smooth criminal," Axel answers haughtily. "Pink."

Much to Roxas' chagrin, his eyes land on another little girl to their left.

"So are you actually going to do work at some point tonight?" Roxas asks. "Or am I going to put you on my back again?"

"I'll have you know that I contacted a few more designers for the shop today," Axel says defensively.

"And?" Roxas presses. "Any of them any good?"

"I scheduled a few meetings," Axel answers with a nonchalant shrug. After successfully pulling out another wooden block from his tower, the redhead notices Roxas looking at him with skittish eyes.

"Did you actually look at their work or were you just concerned if they were single or not?"

Axel places a hand over his heart, feigning pain. "Roxas, your assumption that I don't take this project seriously wounds me."

"So you didn't look," Roxas concludes. Axel graces him with a sheepish grin that immediately tells him that he's right. "Wow, you are actually hopeless. What about that one with the impressive portfolio? When are they scheduled?"

"Tomorrow at twelve-fifteen," Axel replies. "We're meeting at Raijin for lunch and—whoa!" Without warning, Axel's Jenga tower topples to the ground and litters the floor with wooden blocks.

"See that? This is foreshadowing the imminent mess that is this project," Roxas says as he returns to his excel sheet.

"You say that now, but you know you'll miss all this when you move," Axel reminds while gesturing to his general self.

Roxas effectively stops typing at the mention of his future plans.

"Axel," he warns. "You know that's not until we're done sorting everything out for this."

"I know, I know," the redhead recites as he has many times before. "I'm just saying it's customary to be upset when your best friend is moving a five-hour flight awa—whoa."

"What is it?" Roxas asks.

"White," Axel responds.

Roxas groans and begins to rub his temples in annoyance. "Axel, if you're going to point out one more little girl—"

"No, seriously," Axel interrupts. "White."

With a reluctant sigh, Roxas looks up from his laptop once more and follows Axel's line of sight to the line-up at the counter. He is pleasantly surprised to find that 1) the girl in the white dress certainly isn't a little girl and 2) she is uniquely pretty. Even in the simplest getup she manages to keep his attention. From what he can see beneath a short and stylish denim jacket, she works her white sundress very well. Her blonde hair cascades down only one of her shoulders, leaving the other bare to expose her neck and a profile view of her face, which is rather fresh-faced and natural looking.

"Wow, at least close your mouth," he hears Axel say upon returning to the real world.

"I think I'm gonna grab another iced coffee," Roxas says as he leaves their table without another word. He doesn't see it, but he knows Axel is already cackling behind him.

As Roxas stands in line behind the girl in the white dress, he begins to formulate his tactic to lure her to him. She didn't seem like the type to appreciate a straightforward approach—she would take some time to warm up to the idea of going home with him.

Roxas mentally scrolls through his options and decides to start a conversation based on whatever the girl in the white dress decides to get, but just when the barista asks for her order, a gruff young man sporting a black beanie comes out of nowhere and leans against the counter next to her. Judging by the girl's expression, she doesn't look pleased about the proximity.

"Hey babe," beanie guy greets. "I'll have an order of you tonight."

Roxas resists the urge to burst out laughing. The girl's expression (as well as the barista's) screams mortification and disgust.

"I'm sorry, is that meant to impress me?" she asks. Roxas observes that beanie guy looks very confused, as if that line was supposed to work and sweep her off her feet.

"Um," he begins. He then clears his throat to mask his embarrassment. "It usually does."

"And where exactly would this have gone had your demeaning line actually worked?" Naminé asks in a manner that teeters between curiosity and knowing. She may not have known much about modern hookup culture, but she knew enough to know a line when she heard one. She and the girls had heard their fair share back in university, and Selphie often blurred the lines between appropriate and too much information during her storytelling.

"Um… back to my apartment?" Beanie Hat tentatively replies.

"Back to your apartment where you'll try to offer me cheap alcoholic drinks, sloppy makeout sessions, and a mediocre sexual experience that our future selves will probably forget the following morning as a result of pretending to be 'too drunk' the night prior?" she then asks while physically re-enacting air quotes around the latter.

"Uh…" Beanie Hat grumbles. Naminé's ears perk upward when another voice takes over her hypothetical story.

"Then suffer through a morning of drinking bland coffee, little to no hospitality, and empty promises about texting her back after not-so-subtly kicking her out of said apartment?" Roxas continues.

While the barista actively has to cover their mouth to suppress a laugh, Naminé observes that Beanie Hat looks as if he's about to combust from discomfort.

"Yeah, I think she's good bud," Roxas says while offering the poor guy a supportive clap on the back. When Beanie Hat scurries off without another word, clearly defeated, the young barista releases the laugh they'd been withholding.

"I think that one deserves a drink, don't you think?" Roxas suggests. He had to admit that he'd never tried this good guy angle before, but maybe, just maybe, it could work.

"Um," Naminé starts timidly. She averts her eyes ever so slightly to find Selphie and Olette sending her the thumbs up gesture from the corner of her eye, and she couldn't blame them for doing so. This guy was admittedly easy on the eyes. If she were in their position, she'd shamelessly do the same.

"Sure," she then decides, completely oblivious to the pool of trouble that she would eventually find herself in. Naminé at 12:10PM the following day would regret this decision greatly.

Back in the present, Roxas reaches for his wallet, but just before he has the chance to place an order, the barista places two specialty coffees on the counter.

"It's on the house," the barista explains. "That guy has been bothering customers all night. You really put him in his place."

"Oh," Naminé says while shyly reaching for one of the colourful mugs. "Thank you."

"For you then," Roxas then says while offering the barista ten munny on the counter. Naminé's eyes soften at the kind gesture.

"Oh no, I couldn't," the barista starts.

"I insist," Roxas says as he tosses the bill into the tip jar. "Have a great night."

"You as well!" the barista exclaims with a thankful smile.

"So how exactly did you dissect that guy so accurately?" Roxas asks as he leads Naminé to the cream and sugar station. Although he's genuinely curious (she didn't seem like the type to know from experience), he secretly takes this moment to get a good look at her.

Up close, he could see that she was paler than most locals, but in a manner that resembled the innocence and flawless nature of a porcelain doll. Her eyes were blue and glassy, eyelashes long and flirty, and glossy lips small but pouty. He could tell by her demeanor that she had a simple elegance to her, though shy, but the latter was of no concern to him. He'd get her to warm up to him eventually.

"I live vicariously through one of my best girlfriends," Naminé then confesses as she prepares her coffee to her liking. "Which I should probably get back to since they invited me out tonight. They're just sitting right over the—"

Naminé's heart plummets when her eyes land on an empty table. Her sights immediately turn towards the door where she finds Selphie forcefully dragging Olette out of the café, the latter of the two mouthing a heartfelt "I'm sorry" in her direction.

Beside her, Roxas lets out an amused chuckle.

"That's okay," he assures. "If you're up for it, you can sit with me and my friend. He's sitting just over there."

Moments later, Roxas too finds himself gesturing towards an empty space; however, his redheaded companion was courteous enough to leave his mess of Jenga blocks on the table.

"Looks like it's just you and me," Naminé points out, the upbeat music playing softly in the background unable to mask her nervous laugh.

"Guess so," Roxas says with a playful smile gracing his lips. "Would you like to sit down?"

Naminé discreetly glances at her watch. "I'm afraid I don't have much time. I have a prior commitment tomorrow and need to start heading home soon."

"How about we play a quick game then?" Roxas suggests. He tilts his head towards the Jenga blocks for clarification.

Naminé immediately begins waving her hands in front of her defensively. "Oh, I'm no good at Jenga. I'm an absolute klutz."

"Then it should work in your favour time-wise then, right?" Roxas reminds while arranging the blocks.

Naminé sighs defeatedly. She couldn't fault that logic, neither did she expect him to be so clever. And now that she thought about it, she never even got his name…

"It's just a quick innocent game of Jenga, I promise," Roxas assures as if sensing her hesitance.

"All right," Naminé decides while setting her purse down and plopping down on the seat directly in front of him. "So how exactly do you plan to make these wooden blocks worth the while of someone who can knock them down just by breathing?" Then, after a scary thought, "I seriously hope you're not going to suggest strip Jenga."

Naminé raises a hand to cover her mouth in shock. Did she just say that out loud?

"Drat, you got me there," Roxas says, playing along. Naminé sighs in relief. "How about this," Roxas suggests, "every time one of us successfully removes a block from the tower, the other must reveal a random fact about themselves." When he notices Naminé raise a suspicious eyebrow, Roxas jumps in with "It doesn't have to be personal. Anything will suffice."

"And what makes you think I want to know things about you?" Naminé asks cheekily while tracing the rim of her coffee mug with a stirring stick.

"Honestly," Roxas starts, his lips curving into a boyish smirk, "it's really more for me."

And that's when Naminé sees it: the possibility that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't just going to be an innocent game of Jenga. With his looks, Roxas did have the potential to be manipulatively flirty and charming; however, he was kind enough to tip the barista, so perhaps he was worth the benefit of the doubt. Certainly he couldn't be that bad.

"So… that's it? No real stakes or prizes?" she decides to ask when she tunes back into reality.

"Just the pleasure of getting to know you," Roxas answers. "Here, I'll go first."

In one swift movement, Roxas effortlessly pulls a block from the tower.

"What do you want to know?" the artist asks. "I'm afraid all your efforts will be in vain. I'm not very interesting."

"I doubt that," Roxas replies. "Just give me something, anything." When she doesn't respond, he decides to give her a nudge. "Your name would be good to know," he then suggests with a reassuring smile.

"Naminé," she answers slowly. "Yours?"

"You'll have to play to know," Roxas reminds while gesturing to the tower between them.

"I suppose I'll never know then," Naminé jokes. The tower shakes slightly, but by some miracle, Naminé manages to pull a block from the tower without fail.

"Roxas," her companion replies while applauding her. Mere seconds later, Roxas effortlessly flicks a piece off the tower while sipping his coffee in one hand.

"How many times have you played this?" Naminé asks nervously while crossing one leg over the other. At this rate, she'd need a fact for every block on the tower.

"I believe you're supposed to be talking facts, not asking questions," Roxas teases, Naminé groans and wracks her brain for an answer, her brows furrowed in concentration.

"My, uh... my favourite colour is Robin's Egg blue," she eventually spews out. She notices the somewhat confused look on Roxas' face. "I know that sounds kind of petty, but it really is a beautiful colour."

"That's what you thought so hard about?" Roxas asks, his smirk ever-present.

"It was the first thing that came to mind!" Naminé explains as she slowly pulls another piece near the bottom.

"Maroon," Roxas answers simply. Soon enough, it's Naminé's turn to think of another fact about herself. After much thought, her eyes eventually land on her coffee.

"I like my coffee with two sugars and two creams," she reveals.

"Good to know," Roxas says as if he confidently knows that this wouldn't be the only time they'd share a coffee together. "Black, preferably iced," he then answers when Naminé adds another block to her small collection of wooden victories.

"Are you just going to respond with your answer to my facts?" Naminé asks with slight frustration.

Roxas places one of his elbows on the table and rests his chin on the palm of his hand, clearly amused. In the midst of this action, Naminé notices two things: a silver chain necklace dangling from his neck, the tip in the shape of an X, and a tattoo on his left wrist. It's fairly small, but she can make out the number thirteen in roman numerals.

"I thought you had no intention of learning anything about me, Naminé," he then says.

She turns red as the tables turn. "I just thought it was hardly fair since, you know..."

"I'm just teasing," Roxas assures while flicking another block. "I'll think of something next round."

"Hmm..." Naminé hums as she scans the café for another fact. Her eyes land on one of the posters featuring zodiac-themed drinks. "I'm… a Pisces."

"I can see that," Roxas says while nodding, as if it made total sense.

Naminé raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?"

"Very much so," Roxas answers. "As far as I know, they're one of the more artistic zodiacs. Are you an artist by any chance? You're dressed very stylishly, and you certainly seem to know your colours."

Naminé shrugs, trying to pay no mind to the compliments. "Not sure. Perhaps you need another block to jog my memory."

Roxas raises his hands in surrender. "Fair enough."

After pulling another block, Naminé suddenly finds the need to establish some ground rules.

"Before you reveal anything, can I just request that you don't give me any tryhard facts like 'I like long walks on the beach' or 'I bench 120' or anything of the like?"

Roxas throws his head back with a laugh. "Okay, first of all, the answer to the latter is actually 130, and second, I was actually going to tell you that I have a twin brother. His name's Ventus, and he's about ten minutes older."

"He got the looks, I presume?" Naminé teases.

Roxas immediately places a hand over his heart, feigning emotional pain. "Whoa. I wasn't aware that I invited a full-time savage to the table. We're actually identical twins, so he's just as ugly. Sorry to disappoint."

As Naminé lets out another laugh, she can't help but grin at the pleasant interactions she'd been sharing with her newly found companion. Any hesitance that she'd expressed towards him earlier was slowly starting to recede. Only hours ago, she had been glued to the couch in her apartment as thoughts of her ex-boyfriend pestered her brain. Now, in the middle of a game that she would probably be allergic to if it were humanly possible, she had to admit that the girls were right: it was nice to get out of the apartment and interact with entirely new people.

Here in The Usual Spot, she feels more comfortable than she has in a long time; and now that she thought about it, her ex-boyfriend's company was mediocre at best, and it took more interaction on her part to even get it to that level. With Roxas, she was hardly trying. Conversing with him felt almost effortless.

Besides, there was something about him, perhaps in the blue of his eyes, that felt somewhat familiar to her. Like she'd met him, or at least someone like him, before.

"I'm not disappointed," Naminé says upon returning to reality.

"Good," Roxas acknowledges with a somewhat haughty grin. "Neither am I."

After pulling another block off the edge of the tower, Roxas fully expects Naminé to pick up where they left off and reveal some career-oriented details, but she completely derails him by saying "My favourite ice cream is sea-salt cheesequake. I doubt you've heard of it, though."

The problem was that he'd certainly heard of it before.

"They only sold it at this family-owned bakery that closed down over a year ago," Naminé continues to explain. "It's located on—"

"Wayfinder and Sunset Hill," Roxas finishes. "I know of it."

Sensing some sort of change in the air, Naminé loses her focus during her turn and knocks the entire tower down.

"Game over?" Naminé asks sheepishly.

"Looks like it," Roxas confirms as he begins throwing the blocks into the box and packing away the remainder of his things. "Thank you for the wonderful—albeit short—game of Jenga. It was nice while it lasted," he teases while gathering their empty coffee mugs.

"Thank you for helping me humiliate that guy from earlier," Naminé replies while throwing her tote bag over her shoulder and placing the game box into its rightful place on the shelf.

"No need to thank me for that," Roxas replies while dropping off their mugs at the cleaning station. Then, after a silence that teeters between awkwardness and anticipation, he decides to drop the bomb.

"So do you want to get out of here?"

Naminé visibly turns red at the statement. She'd heard enough stories from Selphie to know what often came on the other side of that statement.

Did he… did he just indirectly ask you if you wanted to sleep with him? Naminé thinks to herself.

Two thoughts immediately come to mind:

First, what the hell. Her? Seriously?

Second, she should've known better.

She really should've, or she at least should've been more cautious. The dating game had gone through numerous changes since she'd been single, and the rules had certainly changed since then. Selphie had yet to brief her on the intricacies, but if she had, she probably wouldn't be in this situation.

Naminé shakes her head. She was such a fool. She'd been so naive to think that someone with Roxas' devastating good looks and level of charm would actually be interested in decoding just her personality. All the signs were there, but she'd been too trusting to act on them.

"Naminé?" Roxas asks back in the present.

"Huh?" Naminé asks, returning back to reality. She sees the concerned look on his face and turns red at the circumstances. Hopefully she hadn't made her discomfort too obvious.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

"Um, yes," she stammers with two shaky thumbs up. "A-okay."

She adds a forced smile to her actions, but Roxas sees right through it.

"My question made you uncomfortable," he suddenly calls out. "Didn't it?"

An awkward beat passes.

"I…" Naminé stammers, her face as red as a tomato. "Um—"

Roxas chuckles at her discomfort and doesn't take the rejection to heart. Perhaps he'd read the signs wrong this time round.

"You don't need to be ashamed," he assures, "and I apologize that the straightforwardness of my intentions made you… uneasy."

"I… thank you?" Naminé squeaks, unsure of the direction that the conversation was headed. "I… didn't mean to make you think that's where our conversation was heading."

"No, no," Roxas insists. "You don't need to explain. I was in the wrong for assuming, and don't worry: I'm not like Beanie Hat. I'm not going to pull any lines or force you to come home with me or anything."

Naminé offers him a shy, appreciative nod while pulling at her elbow in discomfort.

"Well this is sufficiently awkward," Roxas admits while scratching the back of his head.

"I suppose we should… go our separate ways now?" Naminé suggests.

"I… suppose so," Roxas answers, but the words feel somewhat detached. On one hand, he should've been content with letting her go, but on the other, he feels guilty for leaving her on a bad note.

"Can I help you hail a cab at all?" he then asks. "It's the least I can do."

Naminé kindly declines. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I can handle this one on my own."

"Oh, all right then," Roxas says defeatedly. His next few words get caught in his throat, because he knows they could very well be his last to her, but he knows they need to be said, nonetheless. "I really am sorry again. I hope you have a good night, Naminé."

Naminé only nods as she pushes the door open. "You too."

And she's gone.

Outside, as she waits for an incoming cab at the tip of the awning, Naminé feels a pang of disappointment in her chest. For a brief, fleeting moment, Roxas had been undeniably charming, and his intentions had seemed so pure at first, but in the end it seemed that they were the same as Beanie Hat's all along. He may not have been as straightforward, but that was the saddest part of it all.

What a shame, she thinks, misty-eyed. She hadn't felt an effortless connection like that before, not even with Riku, but anything they'd built up within their time together was easily torn down within the last five minutes.

Naminé sighs tiredly. If the line between modern dating and hookup culture was this blurry, then she had a lot to learn if she was ever going to start dating again.

An incoming cab finally pulls up to the curb, and she gets in without looking back.

The following morning, Naminé finds an ironed and interview-ready outfit perfectly laid out for her on the living room couch. Her eyes narrow in suspicion. Her friends must have snuck in after abandoning her at the café and set this all up, and tired as Naminé was from the night's festivities, she didn't bother to inspect the contents of her living room when she returned home. Her suspicions are confirmed when she notices a small note addressed to her from Selphie laying on top of the blouse.

Naminé,

If you're reading this, you've probably just come home from your walk of shame...

I'm so proud of you! You're going to kill this client meeting

—and you're going to look great while doing it!

Love,
Selphie

PS. There was nothing shameful about going home with that guy. He was hot.

Naminé rolls her eyes and tosses the note aside. She holds up the hanger and admires the ensemble consisting of a white blouse, pastel yellow blazer and high-waisted black slacks. To the right, her fairy godsister had picked out a pair of black heels and a floral statement necklace to complete the look.

Naminé extends her bottom lip and pouts. This was supposed to be her reward for a scandalous night, but all she'd done was chase the only willing candidate away. She was undeserving of such a prize, of such good friends, but she somehow manages to catch herself before she falls into her cavern of self-pity yet again.

No one likes a passive protagonist! Olette had told her.

Naminé's eyes harden with determination. Her friends were right. She could either continue wallowing in despair with her tubs of ice cream or embrace opportunity, and quite frankly the latter sounded far more rewarding—and less fattening. She finds herself showered, dressed and pampered within minutes. She prepares herself a quick cup of coffee, downs it while reviewing her notes, gathers all her best print samples into her portfolio and is out the door by 11:40 a.m. sharp. As the Raijin Ramen bar was only a twenty-five minute walk and subway ride from her—once—shared apartment, Naminé manages to reach the closest subway station from the restaurant by noon.

Much like all her trips to the downtown core of Twilight city, Naminé immediately notices the change in pace. Back in outskirts of Twilight Town, the unhurried pace often inspired a laid back lifestyle, but after half a year of working a downtown job, Naminé had learned to adapt and knew how to hustle.

By 12:05 p.m., she walks through the entrance doors of Raijin Ramen with ten minutes to spare until she met with her clients. Prompt, if not early, had always been her motto for interviews and meetings. The instant she steps foot into the restaurant, the overwhelmingly delicious aromas envelop Naminé in a warm and cozy embrace. A short-haired young woman in a pale blue kimono, presumably the maître d', approaches her with a friendly smile followed by a respectful bow.

"Table for one?" she asks, gesturing towards the bar for single party guests.

"Ah, no," Naminé answers timidly. "I'm, uh… actually meeting somebody here." She wracks her brain for the name that she'd seen on the email chain forwarded to her by Olette. "I believe his name is… Kiryu? Axel Kiryu?"

The maître d' surprisingly places a hand to her own forehead and sighs.

"Not again," she says. "Look honey, you seem like a really sweet girl, so I'm going to give it to you straight."

"Ah—okay?" Naminé squeaks, unsure of what to think.

"I know Axel may seem like a nice guy and all," she starts, "but he's not going to call you back despite how promising he sounded. You should know that he likes to—"

"Yuna!" a voice exclaims from the other side of the restaurant. Both girls turn to face the lanky young man with spiky, fiery red hair walking towards them in business casual attire. He stops just a few steps in front of them, adjusts his thick-framed reading glasses and pulls on the lapels of his blazer to assert his professionalism. When his alluring green eyes land on Naminé, they widen slightly, but he masks his surprise by clearing his throat.

"Were you talking smack about me again, Yuna?" he asks the maître d' with a charming smile.

"Merely talking facts," she returns playfully.

"Well Naminé here is actually one of the potential candidates for the project Roxas and I are working on," the 'Axel' character explains through gritted teeth.

While Yuna's eyes widen in surprise, Naminé's mind goes on a frenzy.

Did he just say Roxas? she thinks frantically. As in… Roxas from last night Roxas?

Naminé shakes her head fervently. New Twilight was a highly populated city. Although Roxas wasn't a common name (she tries not to think about the fact that she'd never heard of it at all until last night), it was very unlikely that she'd run into him again.

Back in the real world, Naminé manages to catch the second half of Yuna's apology.

"—so sorry. Axel and I happen to know each other personally, and this just so happens to be one of his favourite spots to... communicate with women," she explains, choosing her words carefully, "so I just assumed that… you know…" An awkward beat passes. "A-anyway, that was very wrong of me, and I promise his professional identity remains separate from his personal one, so please disregard what you just witnessed and enjoy a free appetizer on me!"

All Naminé can do is let out a short, high-pitched laugh to express her confusion and discomfort.

"That's… very kind of you," she eventually says. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Yuna replies. "Now would you like me to escort you to the private booths in the back or shall I leave you with Mr. Kiryu?"

"I'll take it from here, thanks," Axel insists. "You've done enough damage."

Yuna offers Naminé one last apologetic glance before Axel decides to lead her away.

"Shall we, Naminé?" he asks. She nods and falls into step with him, bidding Yuna an awkward farewell.

"I'm so sorry about that," Axel says as they walk towards the back of the restaurant, his tone changing entirely. "I hope Yuna didn't scare you off. My business partner and I were actually really impressed with your work and would hate to lose the opportunity to talk business with you."

Naminé waves a hand in front of her face. "It's no problem, really. Just a little misunderstanding."

Axel smirks mischievously. "I'm glad you see it that way. I think we can work well together already."

Unsure what to make of the comment, Naminé chooses to derail the conversation. "So you and your business partner… you both work for Tron?"

"Yeah," Axel answers. He leads her to a hallway in the back with private booths covered with Japanese door curtains. "He's actually just back here."

But before Naminé can prepare herself mentally, Axel stops in front of the third booth on the right, pokes his head through the curtains for a quick word with his business partner, then pulls them aside to reveal the same young man that she'd rejected just the night before.

to be continued

Chapter Inspirations: The songs playing in the background of The Usual Spot café were Morning Sun by Strange Talk and Talk by Khalid.

Fun fact: Raijin Ramen was the name of my favourite downtown ramen bar during my days in university.

Fun fact #2: This story has been brewing since the summer of 2014 when I was travelling the west coast of Canada, particularly during the nighttime mountain drives and even the late nights spent down in Seattle, USA. Yes, I know, it's been going on for a while, but this one refused to let me go. I would've been interested to see how eighteen-year-old Kyorii would've written this story (honestly she probably would've wrote it better), but I think twenty-three-year-old Kyorii (soon to be twenty-four, wtf) had a more realistic approach and managed to get the job done.

A/N: What the hell is this? Another potentially incomplete story that we're going to wait forever for? Why would you do this? Why?

Hey guys. It's me again. I understand that it might be weird of me to release another story given my track record, but to avoid leaving any readers hanging, I've actually completed this story. Ah, that explains the "hiatus" huh? I'll be updating the subsequent chapters every few days or, in the case that I feel the need to make any changes, weekly. There are 10 chapters in total.

Some of you may be thinking: if all the chapters are done, why don't you just post the whole damn thing? Well, the answer to that is simple: it's because you're my editors. Often times there are reviews that make me rethink the story, and I'm motivated to revisit my work and add or reword scenes, which end up enhancing the story overall. I mean it when I say that you, as readers, inspire me and help me improve. There are times where I've gotten stuck on this, and I've realized that it's because I've been writing it all on my own (well, with the exception of my boyfriend who has suffered through many "give me insight on the male mind" whines from my end). That being said, I hope that you can all shed some light on scenes or directions that I'm unsure of through your thoughts/opinions and help me shape this story into something that we can all enjoy.

Also, a big thank you to those of you that have been very patient with me and my sporadic updates. Know that your support means the world to me and keeps these words coming.

On a side note, this is my first RokuNami multi-chapter fic! Since I'm so used to playful and childish SoKai, their relationship was a little difficult for me to write, but I'm not going to lie: it was very very fun. I think I've made them playful in their own way, but I'll let you be the judge of that in the next few chapters to come.

I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of The Event Horizon! Please kindly leave a review to share your thoughts and/or feels, I apologize for any errors that I might have missed (there's likely plenty considering the amount of times I've edited this chapter), and I'll see you all soon in the next chapter!