The Game of Pretend
Chapter Three: Strange but Familiar
Sora had the feeling he'd been duped. Twice in fact.
Duping point one: when Leon...er, professor Leon assigned him as a welcoming committee because of his 'cheerful' and far more tangible people skills.
Duping point two: when Riku had persuaded him to play boyfriend for an indefinite period of time.
Sora had the distinct twitch at the back of his neck that told him in clearly derisive tones: no good can come of this...for you!
Ha.
Ha.
So much, in fact, that on the walk to school he was spacing out more than usual and that was never a good thing. Violet-tinted eyes flitted from staring ahead as the school came into view, to staring at the silent boy to the right, the corners crinkling in a tell-tale sign of concern even as she reached out a hand to tap him on the shoulder.
"Hey, Sora? Sora?" and this time her tap was a bit firmer and he shook his head, blinking rapidly as if having been woken up from a dream.
"Mm, oh what? Sorry," Sora shrugged dimly and his trudge seemed even more apparent now. Kairi highly suspected him of actually dragging his heels on purpose.
"Aw come on, it's not like it's the end of the world, and at least he's attractive, and funny, and—"
"Then why don't you pretend to be his girlfriend!" Sora cut her off sharply, and so taken aback by his unusually cold tone, Kairi only blinked after him as he sped off on his own through the school gates. She shuffled her feet, readjusting her backpack as she bit her bottom lip and smiled slightly, eyes glued to the ground.
"Oh Sora...don't be stupid."
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Cloud Strife was not always certain how he'd ended up the headmaster of a high school. It gave him a bit of a headache just thinking about it, so really he tried not to...often. Other people wondered enough for him anyway. Several things made his position seem unlikely, one being his youthful appearance—the man couldn't be a day past 23—and another being his overly relaxed—some said indifferent—attitude about it all. In a day and age when powerhouse feminists or male equivalents seemed to dominate the school system, Cloud was if nothing else an anomaly—if anything else, there isn't a word for it yet. Then there was his look.
It just wasn't normal to have such a gorgeous headmaster.
All the girls agreed.
Some boys did too (those who lost girlfriends to daydreams of the blond-haired educator, and those who had their own daydreams.)
But he was glad he'd ended up where he now presided.
"Hey."
Leon blinked.
A voice from his doorway?
He looked up, gazing half-interestedly over a file he was even less interested in, if possible.
In Leon's classroom the desks were all perfectly lined up, the blackboard immaculately clean, and everything just so hellishly perfect it would make the neatest of neat freaks cringe. Headmaster Cloud Strife, however, only laughed as he entered, sliding the door quietly behind him.
He meandered a little further into his subordinate's domain.
"What, our custodians don't do it well enough for you?" the headmaster inquired of the seemingly lazily resting figure of Leon, legs up on his desk as he leaned back in his seat like the careless and indifferent teenager he'd been.
A pseudo-slacker.
"Nobody does it well enough for me," was Leon's cool response. Cloud rolled his eyes.
"I'm hurt," he feigned, and then tugging upward on his own tie in a hang-man's gesture he then said, "I have failed to please the great Leon, oh woe is me, I shall take mine self to be executed in the classic school-uniform-strung-to-classroom-ceiling-method."
At this unusual but amusing show of drama, Leon opened his eyes slowly, lashes almost teasingly hiding some of his blue irises at first. He rolled those same eyes.
"That's a method I've never heard of. I'd love a demonstration though. Please, do continue." Leon did his best to look stoic, and as he'd had so much practice at it over the years, it shouldn't have been hard.
But Cloud Strife just happened to be a force to reckon with and the best Leon could do when looking at the unabashedly silly man in his suit and tie in front of him, was look vaguely amused.
Which was saying something.
"Okay, what'd I do now? You're being...that way...you know? Kinda...well I think the word is bitchy...for you at least." Again, if any student had heard their infamously cool-headed, not flippant, and most prominently, not gay headmaster say this, well, apocalypse would've been close behind. But no student heard this.
And so every student except maybe Selphie who was keener on such things than people gave her credit for, thought that Cloud was straight as an arrow, or however the phrase went.
Straight as a curly fry, would be a better, much more accurate way to say it, but they didn't know that of course.
"I am not being bitchy," Leon scoffed and then: "Where were you yesterday?" Point disproved.
Cloud let his hand drop, his tie lightly hitting the front of his perfectly ironed white shirt. His expression had lost its previous frivolity and it had been replaced by a noticeably more conflicted look as his brow furrowed and he looked away. To himself, Leon nodded and his gaze grew darker.
"Well?"
"Sorry, I know we were supposed to meet," Cloud said quietly.
"It's not like it was a date or anything, don't get so grim," Leon joked, which was only funny because it was him saying it. But Cloud, familiar to being privileged enough to see this side of Leon, did not laugh.
"I thought it was," the blond admitted. The brunet's attempt at wry humor died on his lips.
Sighing, Leon dragged his legs off his desk and stood, walking silently over to Cloud who, as before, was perched on one of the many perfectly clean student desks.
"Where were you, huh?" Leon asked again, but it was gentler this time. When Cloud continued his staring contest with the side wall, Leon scowled and grabbed the blonde's chin in his right hand, forcing him to face him. The action, however, was not harsh, just demanding, there being a fine line between the two. "Cloud..."
"...Tifa." The headmaster said quietly. The professor's hand dropped abruptly as he nodded dully, processing and considering all at once.
"I see," was all he could say though and Cloud glared at him for it.
"It's not like I wanted to be with her more than you," he both claimed and pleaded, a strange but genuine melding of emotions as he reached out a hand and squeezed Leon's shoulder. Leon was now the one looking away.
"I know," the brunet admitted but continued, "Still, maybe we shouldn't do this...anymore." The hand on his shoulder gripped it tighter unconsciously.
"What?"
"I don't know," Leon said even as he felt Cloud move behind him, wrapping his arms completely around to clasp his hands in front of his chest.
"Don't say stupid things," Cloud murmured into the nape of Leon's neck, inhaling the scent of all he wanted and all he honestly thought he ever would want.
"Tifa aside Cloud, this isn't exactly proper behavior for a high school professor and the high school's headmaster is it? What if someone caught us? We can't keep having meetings here. It's too—"
"But we never have time anywhere else," Cloud interrupted, frowning as he slipped his arms away so he could circle on Leon, facing him now. Leon's eyes narrowed.
"No, you never have time anywhere else because you are either busy with the school, understandable and fine, or you are with her...not fine, and not understandable," Leon corrected him, arms crossed.
"Tifa could never be to me what you are," Cloud said softly and almost Leon felt himself pathetically melt at the mix of his lover's words and expression...almost.
"A little more action, a few less words then, alright?" Leon sighed. It was too early in the school day for this kind of argument. He'd thought he'd escaped, lived life with none of the well reputed 'drama' of high school, only to have it come and bite him in the ass when he showed up to teach at the damn place.
It looked like he'd have to suffer like everyone else, just at the age of 25 instead of 16.
Oh joy.
Cloud watched as Leon went into a thoughtful look and decided to make good on Leon's suggestion as he leaned up and rather than planting a kiss on Leon's neck, bit at it softly. Eyes widening suddenly, Leon had only a second or less of notice before hands curled in his hair, fisting, encouraging him to lean back a little more, which he did even as he felt Cloud's lips memorize every part of his throat, his jaw, and then with a release of his hand, finally, his lips. '
The kiss was a good one.
More than good actually.
"You know that's not what I meant," Leon mumbled against Cloud's lips before taking initiative and darting his tongue in and avidly exploring Cloud's mouth, a pastime for him that never seemed to grow old. Pulling away slightly after a few more minutes of rather heated lips locking, hands roaming, and moans escaping, Cloud pulled back slightly. His cheeks were now flushed pink and his usual attire rather impressively mussed up. But privately Leon thought his lover never looked better than he did like this, all worked up in his work clothes.
Well, there was the way his lover looked without any clothes at all...Leon supposed that may be the one other time Cloud looked better.
But maybe that was his personal bias. Others might disagree.
Not that he'd ever let anyone else see his Cloud without clothes.
Oh no, no.
Definitely not.
"You want to go somewhere tomorrow?" Cloud's voice interrupted Leon's possessive train of thought. He blinked.
"Hm?"
"I said, do you want to go somewhere tomorrow?" Cloud flicked Leon's forehead playfully as Leon scowled and smacked him lightly in retaliation.
"Sure, but showing up this time would be a good idea, headmaster," Leon stared, a glimmer of humor behind the blur-grey irises. Cloud mimicked the expression in answer, but allowed a half smile to show as well.
"You pick the place and time. I'll be there."
"Fine."
"Fine."
The two then proceeded to partake in a lengthy staring contest.
Two minutes...five...ten...
And like many similar staring contests between the two young men, this one continued on for some time but this was fine. To Cloud and Leon, for just a moment, there was no world beyond the classroom door, just this room, this silence, this shared space of breathing and hearts beating. Nothing more and nothing less; yet neither would move to break it first.
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The slam of the locker sent a visible rattle through the long line of others as Sora let the door swing open, scowling into its messy contents. Sometimes he wished he was a little more organized, but even as soon as he began to think such things, he laughed. The chances of that happening were...well, there weren't any really. By nature Sora was somewhat messy—Kairi would snort and correct him with 'slob' but Kairi wasn't there at the moment—and this was the way it had always been, and probably always would be. His parents had been mostly resigned to this fact of life by the time Sora reached age five and seemed to take the greatest pleasure in tossing his clean clothing around in order to make his room look messier on purpose. Of course now it was a default habit but what was done was done. So thinking, Sora squinted as he thumbed through various books and folders jammed at especially crafty angles in the rusty locker of 10938 and squeaked slightly as his AP Biology book decided to come tumbling down from the top. He clenched his eyes shut waiting for the familiar feeling of something falling on top of him but it never came. He cracked an eye open to see a hand clasping the book with ease right above his head.
"You ever think about cleaning this thing?" a familiarly amused voice inquired and Sora rolled his eyes. Of course...fate was surely sticking her tongue out at him, Sora was certain.
"No," Sora replied and snatched the book back, stuffing it in the locker and closing it, forgetting what he'd gone into it for in the first place and slinging his bag over his shoulder to make a hasty exit.
A hand shot in front of him, bracing itself against the locker next to him, blocking his escape. He turned the other way. But damn, people were born with two hands and Riku was certainly not going to waste one of them. His left hand shot out blocking Sora's other route of simple escape and Sora now turned to face his assignment with a grudging look. That look was thrown back at him like a bubble.
"What?" Pop.
"What do you mean, what?" Sora ducked to pass underneath the barricading arms but Riku only closed them in around him, pressing against his arms like a soft vice.
"What I mean, is what are you doing? You seem...sulky."
This was not what the brunet wanted to hear right now.
"Sulky?" He tried to wriggle out of the firm grip Riku had on his arms but failed and settled for glaring instead, which to his further annoyance only seemed to earn him a ghost of a smile from the taller boy. Sora huffed silently, trying to show how much this displeased him, to prove to all of the students walking by and the eyes wandering on him and Riku that this was not a setup he enjoyed.
He didn't like how Riku's hands seemed to leave a trail of heat on his flesh wherever they brushed and he didn't like how Riku's steady, unreadable gaze seemed to make his cheeks flush or his breath intake grow sharper. He didn't like it. Nope.
And of this Sora was so uncertain that he only knew that if other people believed he didn't like it, maybe he would too.
He wasn't supposed to like boys.
"What's the matter, dummy?" Riku had leaned in close now, his nose almost brushing against Sora's, his breath so near it mingled with the other boy's until it was like they were breathing in each other. But something about Riku's words struck something in Sora and he closed his eyes suddenly as another voice seemed to ask him the same thing: what's the matter, dummy? It seemed far away, like something he might have imagined...someone else's voice asking him that same thing...
It was before he had met Kairi…he'd gone and climbed a tree that day if he recalled correctly...the tallest tree in the neighborhood and he'd been very, very proud. Clambering down the branches he'd been so excited he forewent the last few and this had been a mistake as when he landed his ankle twisted in a sharp wrench of pain. And there he'd sat, trying very hard not to cry because he'd been told many times by other boys of his age that crying was only for sissies, sissy girls, for that matter, and while it might have hurt enough to bring the tears welling, Sora did not let them fall. He had his pride even then. He'd fallen asleep under the sun after a while, pushing the pain of his ankle out of his head and then, sometime after that was when he heard it: what's the matter, dummy? A voice...he'd opened his eyes and someone had been there, someone laughed at him and someone helped him, all the same person...they helped him get home, piggy back style actually.
But for some reason, Sora couldn't put a name or face to that someone.
"Sora?" His eyes shot open to meet aquamarine ones, uncharacteristic anxiety written in the irises.
"Er..." Sora mumbled and then, "Can you please let me go? People are staring."
A considering look and a second later, the warm hands on his arms were gone and Sora found he missed the heat from the contact but brushed such thoughts away.
No, no, and no.
Besides even if he did...his parents...well.
Never mind.
The answer was no.
Sora nodded half to himself. A presence fell into step beside him.
"...are you backing out?" was the oddly quiet question. In fact it was so quiet that Sora stopped in his tracks and stared blankly at the silver-haired boy beside him.
"Wha—I...well..." he stumbled. Yes, stupid, say yes! Part of his mind was waving a baseball bat around in emphasis. He opened his mouth, "Uh, no."
Oh snap. His mind hit itself with the metaphorical baseball bat.
"Good," Riku murmured, as though to himself and Sora half expected the boy to lean in and kiss him as he lowered his face close to his again, but he only received a thoughtful smirk before Riku turned to go to class. Slightly miffed, Sora followed wordlessly.
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Poke.
Tap.
Jab.
Flinching, Sora angled his gaze slightly over his shoulder, enough to see it was Riku who was the culprit, not that Sora was the least bit surprised of course. Shifting in his seat slightly, chin propped on his right fist, he studied the transfer's expression.
The words bored and lazy came to mind immediately.
On their heels were thoughtful and spacey.
These were feelings Sora was well acquainted with but for some reason they drew themselves differently on Riku, the thin line his lips made having tinges of a smirk instead of a pout...the blank slate imitation his eyes created having hints of shadow instead of speckles of light…these sorts of subtle things that Sora really felt he shouldn't be noticing.
Not that he stopped.
"Kobayashi, care to join us?" Leon's tone was clipped as usual, arms crossed across his chest, left eyebrow arched in a fashion that suggested amusement...very Leon.
Blinking rapidly Sora mumbled something of an apology, blushed the shade of a brutal sunburn, and glued his eyes to the blank paper in front of him.
This being enough of an answer for Leon, the lesson continued without further mishap.
Except that Riku wouldn't stop poking him.
"Knock it off, would you?" Sora whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
"Bored," was the deadpan reply.
Poke.
"Riku..."
Poke.
Sigh.
And so it went.
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Riku eyed the brunet in line beside him curiously. He'd been acting a little more than odd today, less prone to flushing a healthy pink hue, more prone to snapping and muttering. He couldn't remember a time when Sora had ever expressed this sort of dull attitude when they were little...sadness, yes...loneliness, yes...but not this. This was different and Riku was simply itching to know what 'this' might be, but Sora had throughout the day remained decidedly closemouthed about it.
Another unusual thing.
Maybe this was too much, Riku mused, not for the first time as the lunch lady, hair-net decorated in strange oddities Riku recognized as wildly colored beads, slapped down something that the menu said was mashed potatoes. The detached killer with an agenda look that the lady wore kept Riku from inquiring if these were in fact edible things on his lunch tray and he moved down the line, waiting as Sora entered his pin.
Only as he was entering his own pin did Riku notice that Sora's tray was rather empty, a lone cup of pudding in the left corner, a carton of milk beside it.
Okay that's it.
"Hey," balancing his tray with ease in one hand, he used the other to settle firmly on Sora's shoulder. Blue eyes glanced at him over a shoulder with unexpected intensity and Riku forgot what he wanted to say.
"Let's go sit down. Kairi's over there," Sora said after an awkward few seconds and started over to where the redhead was indeed waving cheerfully at the pair of boys. Rolling his eyes, Riku slid onto the bench next to her as they came over to the table. This earned him an obvious and almost identical look of confused surprise from both Sora and Kairi who shrugged at each other as if Riku wasn't there at all and then dropped it.
"So how is your day going?" Kairi asked, poking the day's entrée with her plastic spork dubiously.
"Mother hen," Riku noted wryly and proceeded to inspect the mass of mashed whatever on his tray next to the stuff that was masquerading as some sort of familiarly unidentifiable vegetable.
"Pft, maybe," Kairi knocked his arm slightly, causing his arm to angle and the bit of mashed whatever to sail up and hit Riku square on the bridge of his nose. Riku was vaguely aware of something like an 'oops' from his left and a snicker in front of him—Sora—and closed his eyes briefly. Honestly. He reached for a napkin only to find he hadn't grabbed any. Damn.
"Here," Sora was still laughing but Riku appreciated the lightness there compared to the dreariness from the day so far. The brunet circled the table to stand beside Riku and gently wiped the dab of food away. It didn't hurt, even though the napkin was the rough cafeteria kind that normally made one's skin burn; Sora was inspiringly careful and Riku felt the scrutiny in those bluer than blue eyes, wishing it was for the reason it so clearly wasn't. Satisfied with his cleanup, Sora stepped back, nodded and scrunched up the napkin, tossing it over his shoulder into the nearest wastebasket and shot Riku a grin.
"Thanks," Riku said as Sora returned to his seat and had at his pudding with ravenous force. A dismissive nod was all he got in response but Sora was still smiling and that was enough for the moment. Kairi, watching the two thoughtfully, shared a secret smile with herself.
"So Riku, you going out for any clubs or anything? They don't usually take people so late but since you're a transfer I'm sure they'd give you a try," Kairi said after a companionable silence. Riku pushed his tray of mystery food away with one more look of misgiving and shook his head.
"Nah, not really my thing," he said, wrinkling his nose at the thought. A tapping noise snagged his attention and his eyes skimmed back to the brunet across from him, absently drumming his fingers on the lunch table.
"You should try something," Sora said, waving a disapproving finger.
And he was back to his old self suddenly, any dour notes from before visibly erased for the moment. That said, Riku wasn't about to be ordered around by anyone, least of all Sora...well, not if he could help it.
"Don't want to," Riku frowned with a roll of his eyes.
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
"Alright," Sora blinked at him thoughtfully and then demolished the rest of his pudding before they all headed off to the next period.
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Sora hadn't known what he expected Riku to say when he laid his hand on his shoulder in the cafeteria...hadn't known what he expected Riku to do at all, but something in the way his stare had bored into his own had loosened his defenses just slightly. Something about the way they widened slightly when Sora turned to meet his gaze, as if surprised but hiding a secret joy.
And Sora noted that this was a silly thought but could not ignore it even then.
Do I make him happy?
Sora wondered. They'd known each other maybe two days? Three-ish?
But something felt familiar in Riku's presence, something much older and nameless.
Do I make him happy?
Maybe he'd been worried because of my mood swing, or something, Sora thought idly as he took notes in the day's last class, hardly legible ones that he would surely have to re-copy from Kairi—whose handwriting was very neat and loopy.
Or maybe...
But this was pretend.
He had to remember that.
No way would Riku really like him like that. Heck he hadn't even tried to be his friend before demanding such a ridiculous charade.
Something grew cold in Sora at this realization.
Well anyway I'm not even...I don't...like...boys...right?
But his argument was dwindling every time he caught aquamarine eyes staring at him and felt an exhilarating blush run through his blood and his pulse quicken.
Riku's more of a girl anyway, part of Sora's humorous side jabbed in a laugh, with that silken silver hair and those long pretty lashes of his...
Sora leaned down on his desktop, burying his chin against his arms, covering his mouth as he smirked at the notion. Riku, a girl...he'd hate that I thought that. As if on cue, and it might have been—Sora had some bones to pick with the forces of fate—a crumpled piece of paper brushed his shoulder as it fell to land next to his foot. Sweeping it up discreetly, Sora opened it and smoothed it on his desk.
He blanched.
The drawing was not all that bad, cute even, in that five year-old scribble fashion, but it wasn't the artist's technique that had Sora quickly ball up the paper again and stuff it in his bag. Nope. Rather, it was the artist's subject...er...subjects.
Shooting a scowling pout at the positively evil redhead beside him, also known as Kairi, best friend and puppet master supreme if it suited her, who was giving him a doe-eyed look of innocence that he didn't buy for a second.
She mouthed something to him, lips twitching as if she were about to burst at the seams with laughter.
Duh.
It was not the most intelligent, nor was it the most elaborate of words to mouth silently at the squirming brunet. But it said enough as another flush ripped through and tinted his skin a salmon pink.
Kairi.
He mouthed her name back, a pleading look paired with it and she shrugged and turned back to note-taking, a merciless smile gracing her face that told Sora this could not bode well for him at all.
When he was certain she was once again engrossed in the lesson—or as engrossed in a lesson as Kairi or him for that matter ever got—Sora withdrew the crumpled drawing and eyed it, shaking his head.
It wasn't explicit or anything. Kairi wasn't like that.
Or if she was Sora had no desire to know any time in the near future...or ever.
No it wasn't dirty or the like. In fact it was so implicitly fresh, and sweet that it made Sora that much more uncomfortable. The scribbled figure to the left was clearly meant to be Sora, what with the spiky hair of gravity-defying standards and a grin to outdo most sunny days and a jaunty stance to match. To his right, an arm slung around his neck affectionately, was a scribbled person Sora knew right away must be Riku; that smirk was patented by the boy, surely. And he was kissing Sora, just a 'we might be friends or more' kiss on the cheek, Sora's scribble seemingly laughing with one eye shut, the other gazing amusedly at Riku, his hands resting on the arm around his shoulders...
And the most striking thing of all of course, was that they weren't quite the right age.
Maybe Kairi just couldn't capture teenagers well, but here they looked maybe five, very childish in all senses of the word—spiritually, bodily, lovingly, openly.
Some part of the embarrassment was winding away down a road Sora wasn't treading and in its place came a sense of sadness...regret...an ache in his chest. Without noticing it, his hand had found its way to rest over his heart, clutching slightly.
He thought he was hearing something...remembering something...voices...?
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'You'll always find me...right?'
Blue like the sky...
'Yeah, always'
Turquoise...? No...aqua...aquamarine...like...
'Promise?'
A setting sun...
'I...'
The rising moon...
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"Hey, are you okay?" Someone was tapping him lightly on the shoulder. Opening his eyes, surprised to find they'd been closed at all, Sora opened his mouth but no words came out. He nodded his head and sunk lower into his seat, hand slipping from his heart to his side limply.
What the heck?
The person who had tapped him back into consciousness stared at him uncertainly, brow knitting in silent debate.
"What?" Sora asked tiredly.
"You should get some rest," the blond boy said at last and turned forward in his seat...what was his name? Digging in the closets of his mind a light bulb flickered...Roxas...right. Sora didn't know much about the boy. He seldom spoke to people outside of his friend Hayner, who Sora also wasn't much familiar with. Mostly those two kept to themselves and a few other kids who went to a neighboring school...some redheaded guy or other...Sora wasn't quite sure. It never really mattered to him. They didn't speak and they respected each other's space; neither boy was much interested in stirring up trouble for no reason. They left that up to other people. Shrugging off the boy's unexpected shadow of concern for him, Sora did not crumple the paper clutched in his other hand again, but folded it and placed it discreetly in the pages of his planner.
Somehow he couldn't bring himself to throw it away.
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The three exited the building together, filing out one after the other only to line up in perfect method beside each other, Sora in between a thoughtful Kairi and an indecipherable Riku. Various students were milling about, chatting, laughing, doing the usual after-school bit—whatever that entailed for each person. The red haired guy was there again, Sora noticed even as Roxas walked by the trio to meet him. They exchanged hellos and the red haired boy, quite a bit taller, seemed to laugh at something he said and winked suggestively at the blond who shook his head. But he was smiling too. As Sora, Kairi, and Riku passed through the school gates, the brunet saw Hayner run up to join the teasing duo and knock fists jokingly with the red haired one.
They must be good friends, was the thought as Sora and the other two continued down the street in silence for a while, a soft breeze making his bangs go wild and he batted at them like a cat might.
"Need a haircut," he muttered, his mood considerably weighed down by the odd reaction Kairi's harmless doodle had drawn from him, preoccupied.
"You cut your hair? Since when?" Kairi teased and Sora exhaled roughly, a wordless pout.
"I'll do it," Riku offered, arms lazily bent behind his head as if he was reclining.
"You cut hair?" Kairi asked, totally serious now as she gave the silver-haired boy a 'yeah right' look mixed with a quick 'you're not kidding...?'
"So?" Riku replied stiffly and she laughed at him but this was to be expected.
"Okay," Sora said.
That was not.
"What?" Riku and Kairi's tones varied from surprised to downright disbelieving respectively.
"I said 'okay', or were you joking?" Sora arched an indifferent brow at Riku before letting a bright smile show. "I mean, if you're up to the challenge," he flicked a spike of his brown hair for emphasis. Kairi shook her head. Riku chuckled and ruffled said hair affectionately.
"Sure, sure, when?"
"Are you busy right now?"
Two sets of eyes were once again resigned to stare blankly at him for a moment.
Personally Sora wondered if he'd really been acting so detached all day as to deserve this kind of reaction, but ignored the pondering in favor of poking Riku in the chest, smile still teasing his lips.
"Well?"
"Nah, he's not busy," Kairi replied for the boy, having gathered her wits again and as they came to the crossroads, she turned on the street where she and Sora lived, waving at the two.
"Since when do you plan my schedule?" Riku retorted, more amused than defensive.
"Aw wouldn't you like to know," Kairi smirked in a way that discouraged further debate and then added to Sora, "I'll leave dinner in the fridge for you, okay?" And without waiting for an answer winked at Sora not unlike the red haired boy had winked at Roxas and began to walk away.
"Mother hen," Riku muttered his words from before and a giggle trailed back to tell them the subject had heard him.
And then Sora and Riku simply stood there, watching her go for a while before she disappeared over the first hill. Suddenly self-conscious for a reason he didn't feel like articulating to himself, Sora crossed his arms and shuffled his feet but did not look at the boy next to him. But Riku noted the behavior and simply said:
"So, let's go."
Footsteps started to continue down the other street and another set soon joined them, but no voices broke the silence through the remainder of the walk.
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The elevator's dinging had a boxed in sort of quality, like a bad recording job, and the apartment halls smelled a bit musty but Sora found as Riku unlocked his door that the inside of the living space was much different—well in Riku's case anyway. It was plain perhaps, okay, it was downright prison material as far as decorations went—and at least they had those nifty bars to throw some extra shape around.
But it was clean and airy, bright and smelled nice compared to the building and elevator. Thinking thus, Sora padded around, eyeing the bed's neatly tucked covers with a smidgeon of surprise—he'd thought Riku was surely the type to give his own messiness a rival—and humming slightly to himself.
"What are you doing?" Riku was leaning against the closed door, watching him like someone who was afraid of what someone like Sora might discover through such an inspection of the few things he had...which he was.
"Looking at you," was the simple answer that wasn't simple at all and Riku quieted, letting the brunet finish his brief survey of the kitchen and so on. He sighed loudly, coughed pointedly and then settled for anxious staring. "Okay, I'm ready!" Sora turned to him suddenly and spread his arms wide, palms facing front.
"Huh?" Riku blinked.
"My haircut?" Sora folded his arms across his chest.
"Oh right," Riku disappeared hastily into the bathroom, returning soon with scissors, a towel, and a razor.
"That looks...not...safe," Sora eyed the razor.
"It's safe," Riku laughed and without thinking took the boy's hand in his. The warmth there was unmistakable as their palms met and fingers intertwined...familiar...but beyond that the brunet couldn't place it, so once again he let the thought go as their hands parted and Riku gestured at one of the stools at the counter. "Sit here." And Sora did. "Just a trim?" Sora nodded. "Alright."
Snip. Snip. Snip.
"Hey Riku?"
Snip.
"Mm?"
Snip, snip.
"...never mind."
Snip...snip.
"Sora?"
Snip, snip.
"Mm?"
"Don't move."
The razor was safe and didn't hurt, as promised, and the slight purring sensation on the back of Sora's neck was actually quite pleasant. There wasn't much to do there though, so Riku soon set it aside and unwrapped the towel from Sora, around who he had thrown it before beginning the quick trim. A slight itch at the back of his neck had Sora trying to flick at whatever was there and Riku turned to see this after having tossed the towel in the hamper.
"Oh, sorry about that," Riku said and then, "Hold still, I'll get it."
Sora felt himself both freeze and grow almost unbearably hot as a quick breath of air brushed the back of his neck...once, twice...three times.
He closed his eyes.
"Better?"
Uh...
"Yeah," Sora said quickly and hopped off the stool. Of course, in his haste he seemed to misjudge the distance from his feet to the ground and slipped, landing with a resounding thud on his face. He groaned. A shuffle indicated Riku kneeling beside him...a hand on his shoulder...
"Sora! You okay? Dummy." A firm grip on his shoulders helped pull him upright and Sora stared unblinking into endless aquamarine for a few seconds, a few breaths, nothing more or less.
But somehow it felt like someone had packed twenty-four hours of raw feeling inside of those brief moments.
Pulse racing in a way that made him feel unhealthy and jubilant, Sora leapt to his feet...back and away from Riku who stood slowly, eyeing him in question.
"Uh, thanks, um, I guess I...do you want me to pay you or something?" Sora looked at his feet. Riku chuckled.
"No, it's just a haircut," was the response.
"Are you sure?" Sora wanted a reason to fill the space with the noise of words. This was the most uncomfortable he'd ever felt in his entire life—well, right up there with having to wear girls' clothes that one time when Kairi...
"Actually..." Riku's voice had dropped lower...something was different...Sora looked up. He hadn't realized how close they were and as Riku brought his lips to brush against Sora's right cheek, the smaller boy repressed the trembling in his heart. "...now that you mention it..."
There it was again, that crazy surge of heat through every limb, every muscle...that increase in the beat of his heart...Sora blinked fiercely...
"We're just...pretending...right?" Sora whispered because he didn't want to hear his own words. Riku's left hand traced his jaw with such care he wanted to turn away.
"Yep," Riku said and stepped back, sharing a long steady gaze with blue eyes that defined the word 'confounded' in all its senses. The quiet grew, seemed to span hours though it was really only seconds, a minute at most, and Sora felt the need to say something, anything and all but shouted the first thing that came to mind.
"Kairi's not my girlfriend!"
Sora brought his hand to his forehead which would have been melodramatic except that this was one of those rare times when the action was actually a perfect match for the situation.
"Good."
Sora let his hand drop.
"Huh?"
"Good." That was it, no explanation behind that lazy smirk of Riku's, no clue...just 'good'.
"So um...I guess I'll go...now," Sora said slowly, afraid something even more random and more ridiculous would escape instead if he wasn't careful. Riku showed him needlessly to the door.
"I can walk you," Riku offered, leaning in the doorway as Sora was half-way to the elevator. When Sora turned to give him a hesitant look, Riku waved a hand at him with a half-forced laugh, "As friends, you blockhead. You don't live too far, but it's getting dark." Sora glanced down the hall at the window at its end. Sure enough the sun was just sinking below the horizon.
--------------------
A setting sun...
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"Nah I'm fine," Sora said though and then, "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
Why am I asking him that? Of course I'll see him tomorrow. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Sora's mind chanted but he had a feeling it was mocking him more than berating him.
"You will." It sounded like a promise...again with that strange familiarity...but Sora simply nodded and disappeared inside the elevator. He didn't feel like dealing with whatever mind games he was playing on himself, certain as he was that they were being played.
As the elevator doors shut Riku sighed.
What a strange day.
Maybe tomorrow would be better.
Well, it hadn't all been useless. Sure maybe Sora still thought this was all a game, when to Riku it meant more...years of waiting, years of hoping, years of daring to wish...Sure Sora still didn't even seem to see him quite as a friend...but he'd seen a couple of shifts in the brunet's behavior today. Once when he insisted Riku join a club of some kind; he wanted Riku to have friends. And again when he let him cut his hair; he was trying to bridge the gap between them that Riku had accidentally made by jumping into the 'be my boyfriend' escapade.
These were all things Riku mulled over as he sat down on his bed, those things...and thoughts of other days with a small brunet boy, wooden swords, end-of-summer promises, and little-known secrets.
Oh and one other thing, Riku's mind pointed out before he fell asleep that night.
Kairi was not Sora's girlfriend.
Turning on his side, Riku smiled to himself.
No, today might have been strange, but not useless...not at all.
He'd waited years to find Sora again. He could wait a little longer for the brunet to do the same.
But what if he doesn't?
That whisper of doubt that he carried with him everywhere...
He closed his mind to it as best he could.
--------------------
A rising moon...
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Sorry for the wait. More soon I hope.
I'm working on compiling a list of Soriku FF and the list so far is at my journal (the website on my profile) and there's a link in the side bar to it, for anyone who's looking for fanfiction or has a recommendation. They're mostly all on so you've probably read them, but eh, thought I'd mention it.
So I didn't get to everything I planned in this chapter and I realize I write smaller chapters –bows- I'm sorry! I just don't like to force anything extra if it doesn't seem to go right, you know?
Anyways, thanks for reading…and like I said, more soon I hope!
Yuki: Uh-huh, sure. And those one-shots you promised? And that doujinshi you've decided to make? And that job you need to get? And that—
Riyu: Mou...Yuki! Gimme a break. Geez. You're just sour because I'm using you and your experience with the play last spring for 'Crossplay'! I know it!
Yuki: Am not.
Riyu: You are. Your left hand is on your hip and your frown is entirely to the right...that means you're lying! Ha! I win.
Yuki: ...just go write some more. I'm going to bed. Feel free to join me.
Riyu: ...that's a hard choice.
Yuki: I can kick you out you know...now come on.
More updates for the other stories...soon...in order of the way they need to be updated, so that means 'Be My Angel' is next.