Title: Broken Crayons
Author: Apatheia
Characters: Fuu, Hayner, Seifer, and Rai, with mentions of Olette and Pence
Rating: G/K
Summary: Fuu could recall a time when broken crayons and finger paints had been her world.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Square Enix and Disney. Please don't sue; the only thing you would get is a few dollars in change and some Kingdom Hearts tee-shirts.

Broken Crayons

Fuu could recall a time when broken crayons and finger paints had been her world. She had been five going on six, and her world had been crafted in the seemingly vast galaxy of Kindergarten. Back then it was just her and her art, and anyone too simple minded to understand that wasn't worth her time. Countless paintings of a never ending sunset passed, some more vivid than others, though soon she moved on to a nonexistent moonlit night. All the while Fuu sat at her table, wax a constant coating on her blunt nails and shades of blue staining her fingertips.

Then they came; a whirlwind of red and grey sweeping into her life and catching her fluttering pictures as they fell. The instructor, a kind-hearted woman with calm eyes that reminded her of the sky, assigned the two to her table, and soon Fuu's world changed from her and her art to her, her art, and them.

"What are you drawing?" One had dared to ask, his hair hidden beneath a black ski cap. She cast a side-long glance at him, a fleeting glimpse at his face before her eye darted back to her picture. His eyes were an envy-green, she decided in an instant before picking up a stubby crayon that best matched his eyes in hue. Light strokes went beneath the rising moon, each a lasting reminder of the boy with the not-quite-hidden attitude.

"Seifer asked you a question, y'know?" Another side-long glance, this one to the boy with caramel skin and a crimson tee. His eyes were a dark shade of brown that reminded her of the satisfaction on her mom's face after she had managed to sneak a pint of ice cream out of the freezer. Soon enough the envy-green was exchanged for a nub of satisfied-sienna, her fingers dragging the crayon along the edges to form heavy lines.

A light touch of envy with a heavy sense of satisfaction; the perfect combination to mark her meeting with the two boys.

"Name?" Fuu asked tersely, ignoring the question in favor of gaining information. The slightest tilt of her head was the only indication she gave to show that her query was directed to the boy in crimson. The boy spluttered at her tone – insolent, Seifer would later claim in the galaxy that was Middle School, though Fuu knew her voice had not changed pitch to reflect her mood. Satisfied-sienna was set to the side, and Fuu searched her collection for a suitable color to finish her picture.

"Rai," the boy finally said with that huffiness that came so easily to young children such as themselves. "And you-"

"Night," she interrupted, having anticipated the repetition of the question before it had even passed his lips. Amongst his books and papers, her dad had always imparted the importance of words, and the power behind them. They were a thing to be savored and valued, not wasted, and she had no doubt that the needless reiteration of a silly question was nothing short of a huge waste.

Ignoring Seifer's small smirk, Fuu settled on a sliver of crimson. The crayon was in her hand without a second thought, but in her hand it would stay until she could realize just what it was crimson represented. Unless it had a purpose the vivid color couldn't join the sea of envy-green and satisfied-sienna, but despite all of the meanings she had for that particular shade, none seemed to fit. Without a reason behind it, the crimson would have to be abandoned and a new color would have to be found to replace it.

Even as the crayon slipped from her fingers to join its brethren her picture was snatched away, gripped lightly at the top corners by fingers still sticky from that afternoon's snack.

"So what'cha drawing today, Fuu?"

Capturing a rolling crayon that had strayed from the pile at the sudden jolt that shot through the table, Fuu glanced up at the thief. She wasn't all that surprised by the sudden snatching of her art, having experienced the occurrence more days than not. While such an action was incredibly rude, she had quickly found it more practical to allow Hayner his glimpse before trying to take the picture back.

Once he grew bored with his inspection – "Fuu, the moon's gray, not orange!" – the boy with the dirty blond hair would return it and run back over to his friends, leaving Fuu to pick up a chunk of annoyed-mahogany and add heavy brushes to the unfinished picture. Several portraits of sunsets and the night sky were already marred by the angry hue, and some days Fuu wished that Hayner could invoke a more pleasing color.

Still, she gave the boy ample time to chew on his bottom lip thoughtfully and study her current rendition of a sight they'd never see. It was only after he began to regard the picture at different angles - perhaps with the hope that by doing so, the strange mixture of colors would change to something more sensible by some magical means - that she finally decided to demand a recall of her art.

"Return," she intoned, her eye already searching for the much needed annoyed-mahogany hidden in the pile of worn crayons.

"Hang on a sec, I'm still looking at it," he insisted, tilting his head to the side and flipping the picture around. She knew he meant no harm by it, and perhaps even meant the sudden display to come across as the same sort of friendly teasing he used on that Olette girl he sat with. Regardless of his intentions, she changed the search for annoyed-mahogany to one for irritated-sepia.

Digging through the pile of crayons with an air of calm that belied her growing annoyance, she soon found the irritated-sepia and clutched it in her fingers with no more force than she would have used had it been pleased-turquoise. Another demand for her picture was forming on her lips, but before she could utter a single syllable, Seifer and Rai stood up, Rai's chair catching on the rug and falling to the ground with a muffled clatter.

"You heard the girl, shrimp," Seifer said, the slight smirk on his face growing ever so slightly at the prospect of a confrontation. Fuu shifted her gaze from the stub of irritated-sepia to the boy whose expression spoke of nothing but a sort of confidence that was not at all surprising, an almost imperceptible frown tugging at her lips. "Now hand over the drawing."

Hayner bristled at the forceful order, practically glowering at the new boy who dared an attempt at bossing him around. Clutching the picture to his chest stubbornly, he took a step forward in what was only a five-year-old child's idea of an act of intimidation.

"What'cha gonna do, make me? You're not my mom!"

Fuu debated over telling them to cease their childish bickering; after all, her picture was directly in the line of fire and if a scuffle broke out – which it often did when Hayner felt that he or his friends had been wronged or bullied in some way – the fragile paper could be torn in the heat of things. Still, speaking up now when tempers were beginning to flare could very well be a pointless endeavor, and if she wasn't going to be heard there was no need for her to speak.

Her problem only escalated when Rai stormed around the table, eager to defend his friend in any way possible.

"Hey, that's totally dissing Seifer, y'know!"

Hayner glared at him, not at all pleased by the sudden double assault. One kid he could take on, sure, but he wasn't so sure he could handle two, not without some form of back up. Of course, back up was something he was sorely lacking right now. Olette had taken Pence to the instructor to get a band-aid for a paper cut, leaving him to handle things all by himself.

Angry-brick red, Fuu decided as she sat down irritated-sepia, fit the situation perfectly.

"Return," she demanded once more, focusing her concentration on her crayon pile. She was almost positive she still had a shard of the red left, but finding it would be most troublesome. Seemingly oblivious that all three boys' attention was now on her and not each other, she pushed aside pieces of broken crayon in her search. Discovering the sought after shard hidden under the apathetic-white, Fuu carefully set angry-brick red outside of the range of her pile and glanced up at Hayner.

"Now," she added forcefully, further cementing the fact that she wanted her drawing back, and expected it back without arguments. Her gaze met Hayner's and while his expression grew surlier with each passing second, hers only grew firmer. Deciding maybe, just maybe, his pride was worth swallowing just this once, the boy scoffed.

"Tch, fine. I was done looking at it, anyhow," he muttered in defeat, tossing the drawing back at them. The flimsy piece of paper caught the air and fluttered to the carpet in a downward spiral, glimpses of envy-green and satisfied-sienna winking at them before hitting the carpet. "Not that it was any good."

Fuu didn't even blink at the hurtful remark, fully aware that Hayner was saying it more for his newly found rival's benefit more than her own. Despite his numerous comments on her decidedly questionable use of color – "Fuu, you do know that clouds are blue, not yellow, right?" – she always got the impression that he at least didn't hate her work, though he had never uttered a word to dispute her unspoken assumption.

Seifer, it seemed, didn't share her belief.

"What was that?" The boy with the ski cap walked around the table much like his friend had, his words dangerously calm despite their threatening undertones. With a deliberate pause he stooped down to scoop her picture up, slamming it on the table forcefully before he joined Rai.

Fuu's lips twitched as the urge to frown increased; angry-brick red began to roll away under the sudden and unexpected jostle. Despite his questionable motivations, she did appreciate Seifer saving her picture from being stepped on or torn, but really, slamming it down as he did was an unnecessary utilization of energy.

It was just as effective to sit it down gently, and far more practical. After all, any loud noise risked the chance of calling attention to them all, and while Fuu could care less what became of her recess time, the others seemed to be the type who enjoyed running around and playing kickball.

A sudden yelp distracted Fuu from her thoughts, and the girl glanced up in time to see Rai pull his hand away from Hayner's arm. Already it seemed that they had resorted to the pinching phase of a confrontation, which was to be closely followed by the-

Hayner suddenly shoved Rai in retaliation, just as a sudden movement out of the corner of Fuu's eye caught her attention. The instructor had finally finished with administering first-aid to Pence's injured finger, and after giving the boy an absent-minded pat on the head she began to hurry over to the fighting trio. Clearly Hayner's yelp had caught her attention, and with each step the young woman took, the chances of surviving this encounter with recess time intact dimmed to a point that bordered on nonexistent.

The table shook slightly as Rai threw himself at Hayner, the two boys falling to the floor in an angrily writhing tangle of limbs. Fuu hesitated for a moment before picking up the discarded crimson once more, her mind mulling over a small anecdote her mom had told her one evening.

According to her mom, the particular shade of crimson of her eyes – eyes she had inherited from her dad – reminded her mom of the night she had met the love of her life. It was a happy reminder, because they were the same hue as the wine the two lovers had shared that night, and had it not been for that wine, her dad would have never gotten the courage to ask her out again.

Or so her mom said.

Fuu's dad always wrinkled his nose at the romantic tale, but Fuu soon caught the loving spark in his eye as he watched his wife gush over their first date, so she had a feeling it was true. Even if the tale was fabricated, it made her mom happy and Fuu had soon learned to associate crimson with that feeling.

Pulling her abused picture close to her, Fuu glanced up again in time to see Seifer throw himself into the fray with an enthusiasm that she would soon find herself familiar with. The instructor's insistent demands for them to stop their fighting fell on deaf ears, and within seconds the other children had gathered around to watch the scuffle eagerly.

It was in that instant that she just knew, and after forcing the loud calls of both instructor and students out of her mind she focused solely on her unfinished picture. The tiny stub of crayon in her hand shook only briefly before meeting her paper in firm, bold lines that described the situation better than words ever could. Her lips curled up ever so slightly, forming a tiny grin that was as close to a smile as she would ever dare to show.

On her paper, cheerful-crimson embraced envy-green and satisfied-sienna, a permanent mark to show all the day when the boy with the ski cap and the boy with the red tee joined the girl and her art.