Summary: AU. We moved to get away from the craziness of city life. But Mom didn't know that moving us out to the suburbs would land me with the hot Roxas, his psycho twin who wants to castrate me, and their freaky man-parents. (AkuRoku RikuSora Zemyx Terra/Ven & more)
Disclaimer: I find it incredibly wounding to both my pride and my ego to have to keep disclaiming everything. So, just for that, I won't. (No, I don't own KH or Disney. And the lyrics are from Bloodhound Gang. And…yeah.)
Rant: LAME. I started writing the first three paragraphs or so during a retardedly hot day in school—no joke, it was at least 35 degrees Celsius. And it was sticky. It was fucking nasty. But, naturally, I started getting aggravated with everything, and I pushed my notebook away for a good month. D: I wanted to have this out by the end of June, but I ended up postponing writing this chapter in favour of finishing the fourth chapter of "Twilight", because, let's face it, that seriously needed to be updated. :shot:
Notes: Congrats to Tyrk who correctly identified the quote from Stargate SG-1. :D And yes, Jack did set the record for the universe's longest golf shot. XD I love that episode.
And thank you guys for over 100 reviews!! D8 I thought I'd bust an artery when I saw I'd gone over. T-T If only I were better for you people…
There is some semi-religious context included in the form of an argument. I simply ask that you not take any personal offence to this. I am aware that the religion "bashed" bears similarities to a faith, but this is not intentional. Rather, it's a play on words and details throughout FFVII. There's no offence meant.

Started: July 19, 2008.
Completed: September 12, 2006.

It's Like Hell
(…except worse.)
Stacy's Mom
(…to quote Signfeld, "They're real. And they're spectacular.")

Have you ever noticed that it's on those retardedly hot days—on days when it's like hell—that everyone seems to demand the most from you? It's seriously fucked up, and let me tell you, on days like that, all I want to do is sleep. But noooooooo… Mom, that bitch, just had to pick the afternoon that it was a zillion degrees outside for me to start hacking the lawn back down to a manageable size.

You know what, Mom? FUCK YOU!

"Axel, stop being such a whiny brat!" Mom barked as she beat me with a spatula. "Get off your ass, you lazy bum!"

I rolled over onto my stomach and bit back another swear. I had been camped out on the linoleum floor of our kitchen, 'cause it was just too goddamn hot everywhere else. Our AC was busted, and Reno's been too busy with his new job to bother with making sure I don't die of heat stroke, and I haven't a clue how to fix the stupid thing.

"I dun wanna," I moaned as Mom nudged me in the side with her foot. "Mom, it's like a zillion degrees inside…"

"Well," Mom said waspishly, "maybe some fresh air will do you some good, seeing as it's 'a zillion degrees' inside the house."

"But, Mooom," I whined, "If it's a zillion degrees in here, it'll be a bazillion outside, and…"

Mom smacked me again with her spatula. "Stop complaining," she ordered. "It is not a bazillion degrees outside. Anyway, when I lived on Destiny Islands, it was 'a bazillion degrees' every day, but I never complained! My family didn't even own a paper fan, let alone air conditioner!"

"But, Mom," I said, trying to reason with the crazed woman. "Gramma and Grandpa are psychotic, and I distinctly remember Great Gramma saying that she only moved out and back to Hollow Bastion because Grandpa didn't want to admit that he'd screwed up the ventilation system while trying to renovate the house. And remember last Christmas?" I continued blithely, "I seem to recall us going down to visit Gramma and Grandpa, only to end up at the Atlantis General Hospital because a certain someone named Kairi van Alderliesten got heat stroke and fainted."

Mom flushed a shade of pink that matched her tank top and gritted her teeth in aggravation. "Axel," she snarled in a way that reminded me of a rabid dog, "You're really lucky that beating your children is illegal—"

"Then what do you call what you were just doing?" I interrupted, genuinely curious. "Y'know, with the spatula?"

She hit me again with the spatula for good measure. I started to say something snarky, but she held up the evil kitchen utensil in warning, ready to strike again. I wisely chose to shut up. She smiled the eerily pleasant smile that she'd always reserved for our landlady back in Midgar. "Now," she said, sounding considerably calmer. "I have an appointment with the local locksmith. I need to make more copies of our house keys for us." I nodded in agreement. It was true. We only had two keys, one was with Mom, the other with Reno.

"I'm thinking of getting a copy for Sora and Riku," Mom went on. "They're already working on getting us our own key to their house—how cool is that?" she suddenly burst, eyes sparkling as she spun around in a pirouette, her red hair fanning out as she clapped her hands together and stared off into the distance like some cheesy heroine from one of those lame movies. "It'll be just like in those sitcoms!" she said dreamily, eyes misting over. "Y'know, like in Acquaintances? Or Signfeld?" She broke free from her trance and scoffed. "Like people in Hollow Bastion actually leave their doors unlocked all the time!"

I blinked, not expecting her complete jump of tangent. I coughed awkwardly, drawing her attention back to me. "So, do I have to do the gardening today?" I asked hopefully, making my big puppy eyes at her. "I was thinking of doing it on a day when Marluxia could help out, and he's working today, and…" I let my voice trail away and I let my lower lip wibble for good measure. Mom gave me a thoughtful look, pity slipping into her large violet eyes.

"Well…"

I threw my self-respect out the window and whimpered pathetically, dropping to my knees and full-out grovelling at her white tennis shoes. Mom winced, averting her gaze from the disgusting display I'd concocted.

"Oh, geez," she groaned, clapping a hand over her eyes. "Fine! Fine! You don't have to garden today."

"HELL YEAH!" I jumped to my feet in celebration. "Thank you, Mom! Thank you so much! You're amazing! And beautiful! And young! And not a lard-ass! And not a total failure at life! And—"

"Oh, shut up." Mom whacked me one last time with the spatula before shoving it into her seashell-printed purse. She shouldered the bag and gave me an expectant look. "Just walk me outside and pick up the mail, all right? Then you can melt your brain—or what's left of it, I guess—with whatever mindless video games you've got."

"Sounds good." This was sounding really ideal, right? So, I followed her to the front door, pulled on my decrepit red Chucks and even held the door open to let her pass. Oh yeah, I was kissing ass big time. (Literally. Mom's ass, as everyone knows, is larger than life.)

Mom gave me a toothy grin and waited for me to exit the house. And when I did, she watched me head down to the mailbox—this rusting black box that seriously needed to be replaced—and nearly break its door off opening the damn thing to pull out a bunch of shitty bills, a fashion magazine (Andalasia Fashion. It just figures), the month's edition of National Demographic, and an out-of-place looking copy of today's paper. I took the mail back to my mom, like a good little boy, and came to find her, still on the stoop, locking up the house like it was Fort Knox. I stared at her.

"What're you doing?" My mouth felt like cotton as she spun around to face me, her mouth stretched up into a slightly insane grin that showed all her teeth.

"I'm locking up," she told me as she pocketed her key. "I can't afford to have little suburban urchins breaking into our house while I'm gone," she said as she headed over to the parked Mom-mobile, casting me a look that just sang of my apparent stupidity.

"But…" I gawked at her. "How am I supposed to go inside the house…?"

She paused in the middle of fastening her seatbelt to give me a thoughtful look, her eyes unusually large. "Yeah," she said slowly, her mouth falling open. She stared upwards for a moment before blinking. "I guess you can't. How about that, Axel," she remarked, and her face twisted from that vacant expression to one of pure evil. She flashed me that same toothy grin and slammed the car door. "It looks like you'll be stuck outside, doing the lawn work until I return. How about that." She revved up the car and pulled out of the driveway. She stuck her head out her window and gave me a plastic smile and blew a kiss. "Make it look nice!" And she drove away at Mach 7.30002.

I'm being totally serious. The sound barrier totally snapped.

So, I kinda stood there, sort of in shock, just watching the heat waves float off the road and letting the sun bake me to a crisp. After a few minutes of gaping dumbly at nothing, I raised my eyes and nearly let out a manly screech at the burning sensation of the fucking afternoon sunshine stabbing me violently in the eyes. I sprinted across our dead, dead, dead lawn and dove for shelter under a sorry-looking tree, nearly falling flat on my face in the dry grass in the process. I didn't move, and just lay there, dead grass in my mouth. And in that moment, I realised—not without a sense of sullen irony—that my mom had been right. It wasn't a bazillion degrees outside.

It was at least a gazillion.

And it was fucking humid. I don't think I was even sweating—it evaporated that quickly. Like, the air was so stuffy that it was difficult to breathe. It would all get caught in my lungs and I couldn't get it down or out. All of my limbs were dead useless and totally laden down with exhaustion. And my mouth was so dry…

My vision was going kinda blurry, too. I rolled over onto my back and squinted off into the distance, trying to make sense of the fuzzy blobs around me. Oh, wait, haha, those're just the houses… I furrowed my brow in confusion. Hey, wait…

What the hell was going on with Marluxia's house? Since when were there two?

I blinked. Oh. Wait, I was just seeing double. Although, that still didn't really explain why the house was floating… And what was that thing waving in front of my face? Was that a helicopter? Since when do helicopters fly sideways…and so damn close to people…? GASP, maybe it's a futuristic tiny helicopter from Rocket Town!! Mom did always say that they were making freaky new weapons of mass destruction…

"Axel…? Axel?"

Heyyyy! The helicopter can taaalk!!

I grinned stupidly at the futuristic tiny helicopter. "Helloooo!!" I giggled and reached out a hand to poke it.

"Oh, boy." The helicopter disappeared with a sigh and suddenly the whole world shifted (FUCKING VERTIGO) and my head was lolling about on my shoulders as the helicopter hefted me to my feet and led me away. "C'mon, kid, you've gotta get out of the sun…"

My eyes were kinda unfocused, but I could just make out the sight of dead grass getting trampled beneath my feet—then suddenly the grass was green, and then it was gone, and all I could see was this freaky face—is that Mickey Mouse?!

There was the far off sound of a door creaking open, and all this cold, cold air came rushing at me. The helicopter nudged me forward, and it was like heading straight into an icebox or Christmas Town or something. It was like heaven. The air was so much thinner and I could breathe again…

"Axel?"

I blinked and lifted a hand and rubbed blearily at my eyes. "Where am I?" I mumbled, stumbling a little and nearly collapsing into a chair. There was a clink of glass on glass, and when I raised my eyes, there was a glass sitting in front of me filled with fucking ice water.

I think I must've made quite a retarded spectacle of myself; I practically jumped on top of that glass and downed it in such a frenzy…

There was an amused chuckle, and the glass became refilled—and I chugged it again. We repeated this several times, before I finally left the glass alone, slumped down against the table, and felt relatively rehydrated. (And sane.)

"Feeling better?"

I jumped—I'd totally forgotten about my saviour! "Oh, my God, you have no idea how grateful I am—" I looked up to see Riku, in all his rainbow glory, peering down at me with concern in his aqua eyes. And all I could think about was HOTHOTHOT. HOSHIT, UP CLOSE, HE IS REALLY FUCKING HOT.

And this is a very unhealthy thought to think about your neighbour. Your neighbour who is your mother's friend. Your neighbour who is gay and happily married with three kids to your mother's other friend. Your neighbour whose kid is your best (read: only) friend in a very sketchy neighbourhood that you don't know shit about.

I let out a stream of verbal diarrhoea and Riku raised an eyebrow at me. (Noooo!! Now he thinks I inherited the stupid gene from Mom!) I chuckled nervously and sank a little in my seat. "Uh…th-thanks for saving me!" I spat out, feeling all the water I'd regained start dripping down the back of my neck in the form of sweat. I glued my eyes to the round table, distracting myself with semi-not-really-false interest in the fact that the round table I was seated at was sort of like a giant picture frame. It had a really sick collage of family photographs arranged neatly beneath a clean sheet of glass, which served as the tabletop. I quickly busied myself with ogling a photograph depicting Roxas, Ven, and Naminé as children at the Disney Park. Like Roxas had said, they were all wearing the infamous autographed white t-shirts. Naminé must've taken a lot after Sora, because she looked extremely elated, while her brothers looked a tad less enthusiastic. Considering that they looked to be ten years of age, by this point, they'd probably seen everything in Disney a couple dozen times over.

Riku must've clued in on my plight or something, because he smirked this evil smirk—I don't care if Roxas said it's impossible. Ven definitely inherited that smirk!—and spun away, taking the pitcher of ice water with him. "Is there any particular reason why you were lying out on your front yard, completely delirious, in 45 degree weather?" he asked neutrally, bringing me hurtling back down to earth from Cloud Nine.

"Uh," I said lamely, "My mom locked me out of the house in a convoluted attempt to get me to do the lawn."

Riku snorted. "That's the sort of thing Kairi used to try on me 'n' Sora when we were kids." He smiled fondly. "She's very lazy, that woman."

He replaced the pitcher in the photo-covered, old-school, bright red fridge and moved to a nearby cupboard and pulled out a bright yellow Tupperware container. He settled back down in the seat across from me and removed the lid of the container. The unmistakable smell of oatmeal-raisin cookies escaped into the air. I think I drooled a little.

Riku took a cookie for himself and offered me the box. I eagerly took one and sank my teeth into pure, oatmealy heaven. The cookies were obviously homemade—they weren't dry or hard. They were chewy and soft and that friggin' hint of cinnamon gave it the most awesome kick ever. Like, that cookie seriously replaced all unholy lust in me and just transformed it all into sheer gluttony. I gave Riku a wide-eyed look as I took another cookie.

"These might just be the greatest things on the planet," I said sincerely as I shoved the second cookie in my mouth. "Who made them?"

Riku nibbled on his cookie and looked mildly amused. "If you want them, you can take them. There are always too many cookies in this house." He chewed and swallowed. I determinedly ignored his pale, smooth throat. "Roxas baked them," he told me, and my eyes immediately flickered back up to his face—LOOK AWAY!

"Really?" I asked, perking up at the mention of Roxas. "I mean, he did tell me he worked at a bakery, but—"

"Did he?" Riku looked generally interested, his silver eyebrows in danger of disappearing behind his fringe and into his hairline. His eyes took on this far-off look as he said, "Roxas is generally very self-conscious about his job. I'm kind of surprised he told you…he normally doesn't like to speak about it—even at home."

I was honestly surprised. "Why?" I asked as I took a third cookie. "If I could bake like this, I'd be using my skills at every possible moment," I told Riku. "Like, to bribe people or something."

Riku grinned. "That's what Ven says, too."

I think I choked a little from being told that Ven and I shared views. "O-Oh," I coughed as I reached for my glass of water. "Where is everyone?" I asked after I took a sip.

"All over," Riku replied. "I don't have work today—I'm an astrophysicist, by the way. Sora is at some 'top secret' C'leenix meeting at his office,—Roxas told me you two passed it the other day—Naminé is upstairs writing or drawing or something…" He waved a hand flippantly and gave me a rather perplexed look. "She's always hiding in her room," he told me. "I don't question it, because her Uncle Cloud—he's Sora's older brother—was a bit of a recluse at her age, too, but I do wonder what she's doing up there." He shrugged. "She's a bit quirky, though."

"Is it hard taking care of a girl?" I wondered, surprising myself with the question. "I mean, you and Sora are both guys, and, well…" The question died in my mouth and I quickly helped myself to another cookie.

Riku scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It's actually not been that difficult," he admitted. "To be truthful, raising Roxas and Ven has been more of a challenge—especially Roxas." Riku sighed. "That kid doesn't like to talk." He chuckled lightly. "He certainly didn't get that from Sora," he said with a warm grin. "Nah, Roxas has been the hardest to work with, hands down."

"For real? I would've thought Ven to be the problem child—no offence."

Riku brushed it off. "Ven's volatile," he confessed, "but in terms of parenting, he's much easier to understand." He shifted his position from reclining back in his seat to leaning forward, elbows propped on the tabletop. "Ven is the kind of person who makes his feelings public. Very public."

I snorted in agreement and Riku smirked a little. "He's also much more open," Riku continued. "In general, anyway. When I think about it, Roxas is probably the quietest of the three of those monsters."

I grinned. "And you know what they say about the quiet ones…"

Riku's expression grew thunderous, and I quickly silenced myself. "Watch your back," he said flatly, giving me a slightly freaky look that was reminiscent of Ven's 'die in a hole, fool' look. "Don't mess around with my kid," he warned me, voice dark and morose. "Roxas is a good kid, and if you even think about—"

"Oh, Dad, stop trying to scare him off," Naminé murmured as she slunk into the kitchen, dressed in a white tank top and white Bermuda shorts, and primly snatched a cookie from the Tupperware. "It's not like you can disprove that 'quiet one' theory, anyway. You were the quiet one among your friends, weren't you?"

Riku frowned reprovingly at his daughter. "Naminé," he muttered, "have a little interest in your brother's preservation." He gave me a pointed look. "I have to make sure that Roxas doesn't end up hurt."

I stared at him, cookie falling out of my hand. What the hell is going on?!

Naminé sighed wearily and gave Riku a disapproving look. "But, Dad, if you keep this up, you'll scare everyone away…"

He smirked at her. "Caught on, have you?" Naminé released another exasperated sigh before turning to me.

"Are you looking for Roxas?" she asked, ignoring her father's unhappy expression.

I picked up my fallen cookie. "Well," I said slowly, "that really wasn't what I came here for…"

She looked surprised for some reason. "Then what are you here for?"

I blinked. "I got locked out of my house," I said lamely. Strangely enough, Naminé looked fairly disappointed. I nervously crammed the rest of my cookie into my mouth.

Riku was frowning, too. "Well," he said at last, "have you got anything better to do until Kairi returns?"

I flushed a little and shook my head. "No," I admitted sheepishly. "Do you mind me hanging around until then?" I asked awkwardly. "I'll go find somewhere else to stay if it is…" Not that I knew any other place to stay…

Riku raised his eyebrows and his lips quirked amusedly. "It's not a problem at all," he assured me. He gestured toward Naminé, "Naminé and I could always use a bit of outside company," he told me, and the blonde nodded energetically. "It's always very boring around here until Ven and Roxas return." He glanced up at the wall clock—Mickey Mouse, of course—it was only one. "Roxas isn't actually supposed to come home until about four, today, but I can call his boss up and tell him there's some kind of emergency or something…let him come home early."

Naminé nodded sagely. "Tell him the rum's gone. Mr. Sparrow always considers that an emergency," she advised her father as Riku went for the cordless phone: a large hunk of white plastic shaped like Mickey's gloved hand making the telephone hand sign.

Just before Riku could start dialling, the Mickey Mouse Club March exploded throughout the house and I almost jumped out of my seat. Naminé blinked impassively, clearly very used to this. "Oh," she said, scarily calm amidst the screeching piccolos or flutes or fifes or whatever they were. "We have a visitor." And she flounced away to the door to greet whoever it was.

Riku hadn't even batted an eyelash during the musical outburst and was patiently holding the glove-phone to his ear and was waiting for the bakery to pick up. His eyes lit up. "Hello, Joshamee," Riku said, annunciating each syllable clearly into the phone. "It's Riku Seelenfreund, Roxas' father." He paused for a second and rolled his eyes. "No," he said with a snigger, "I'm the other father. Sora's the one who speaks fluent Moogle."

Moogle?!

I boggled at this. Was it even possible to speak Moogle?

"I need to speak with Jack," Riku continued. "There's been an incident at home and we need Roxas to hurry back… Yes, I know this is third time in two months. Please don't give me a hard time; this is important." He paused and nodded to himself, looking pleased. "Thank you. Yes, I'll hold."

"Dad?" Naminé was back, she was leaning against the wall and toeing the ground awkwardly, her pale brows knitted together in an expression that could only be concern. "There's a man at the door to see you…" Her voice trailed away and she didn't elaborate who, but Riku seemed to catch the drift and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Axel," he addressed me sharply and tossed me the phone, which I only just caught as he stalked past me and toward the front door, Naminé's wide eyes following his beeline. "Tell Jack the rum's gone."

I nodded dumbly and didn't question him. He looked livid. I nervously pressed the phone against my ear and waited uneasily. After about a minute of hearing nothing but the faint crackle of static over the telephone and the muffled sound of Riku's sharp baritone, a male voice finally slurred over the phone line, "'llo?"

"Uh, hi!" I squeaked. "Is this Jack?"

There was a brief pause in which the man chuckled. "Well, luv, that depends on who's asking, eh?" The man had a heavy Port Royal accent—not the kind of Port Royal accent that spoke of the United Kingdoms of Hahrtz's navy or Spiran aristocracy, but a Port Royal pirate accent. "But, at the expense of me own comfort, I'll grace ye with my name. This be Captain Jack Sparrow. At your service." I could almost visualise a wide grin filled with rotten teeth and a sweeping bow. "And, you know, this is my bakery. If anyone named Hector tries to tell you otherwise, he's lying. Bloody wanker. This is my bakery. Mine. He's tried to steal it, you see—marooned me at a bake sale! But, no! This bakery is mine."

"Uh, right… Um…" I'd kind of lost my train of thought right after hearing him call himself 'captain.'

"How may I be helping you today? Might there be a cake we can provide for you? Our bakery is the best at customised cakes, as it were."

I cleared my throat. "Actually, I was hoping you'd be willing to let Roxas leave work now and come home."

Jack sounded rather bemused. "Let Roxy come home early? No can do, mate. Roxy's one of my best bakers and one of the most agreeable lads I've ever met; and good workers are plenty difficult to find and even more difficult to work with. Bit like cursed treasure, really. Doubtless they'll try and mutiny again…" There was a rumble of expletives in the background of the bakery. Clearly Jack had touched a nerve in several of his employees. Jack let out an exaggerated sigh. "What'd I tell you, mate? Can't trust anyone out here. Take my advise: never go into catering. Bloody shark orgy, savvy? Everyone's just looking to eat each other." He paused, as if considering his words. "Metaphorically speaking, that is. Although, there was this one time when I was invited as a guest to an island in the Caribbean…some chef or another wanted me to be guest of honour at some tribal feast he'd been preparing." Jack sighed wistfully. "Turns out that the islanders were cannibalistic and I was meant to be the main course at this feast. Bit of a downer, really…"

I was just gaping. Seriously, what was I supposed to say in response to that?

"Ah, well." Jack seemed rather impassive about his whole near-death experience. "Take what ye can, eh?"

"Yeah," I said suddenly, jerking back to reality. "That's exactly right. And I'll be taking Roxas, if you don't mind."

"See, mate, that's where you're wrong. Roxy's critical to the progress of me bakery, you see. Let's imagine the bakery is a boat, shall we? A very nice boat. A very fast, efficient boat with a cheap lease. Now, I'm the captain, savvy? I am in charge of all the little things that take place on the boat and I am all-knowing. Omnipotent, as it were, of all occurrences on the ship. There will not be a single barnacle clinging to the hull for dear life that I do not know about. Now, in order for a boat to get anywhere, it needs a good wind, eh? And that's all well and good and all if there is a favourable wind, but it's all quite pointless unless one has a good, strong sail. Now, in a bakery, the bakers are the sails, and Roxy, well, he's just the biggest sail of them all. He's the mast of the ship. And without Roxy, there's really not much breeze being caught. So, as I have just explained in my perfectly sound and not in the least bit irrelevant explanation that was most certainly worth explaining, we, as a bakery, are doomed without our mast. So, Roxy must stay here. Sorry, mate." He didn't sound very sorry. "Nothing I can do. I'm just a captain, you see. Be me as important and all-knowing as I am, I am still at the mercy of the sea and her bounty."

"I dunno," I said, happy to get a word in for once and put a brief lid on Jack's mindless rambling. "It doesn't necessarily need a mast."

"Say what?"

"Well," I continued, "why should your ship—"

"Boat," Jack corrected.

"Boat," I relented. "Why should your boat be dependent on the winds?" I asked, addressing the main cause of my distraction throughout his explanation. "You can just get a motor."

Jack was silent. Dumbstruck, I guess. When he finally spoke, his voice was awed. "I've never thought of it that way," he murmured. He hummed, perhaps in thought. Then he piped up again with a question that made me want to smash my head into a wall, "But wouldn't the motor be like the government-established bakery-slash-power plant that bakes rather questionable and aggravatingly stale yellow pound cakes that are secretly infused with chemicals and sawdust and flavourings as natural as a celebrity's breasts?"

I think something cracked, then. And it certainly wasn't anything physical.

"Look," I all but shouted into the phone. "I don't give a flying fuck about the workings of your bakery or your ship—"

"Boat," Jack corrected with a bit of a petulant sigh.

"BOAT!!" I shrieked in agreement. "I just want Roxas to come home, damn it! The rum's gone!"

Jack was quiet for a moment. Then he let out a raspberry and drawled, "Well, why didn't ye say so in the first place, luv? I'll send little Roxy along with his wages, eh? He'll pick up some Elixir for you like the good little boy he is." There was a muffled roar of outrage in the background, and Jack snickered softly. "The lad'll be on his way before you can say 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'." I could almost see a shit-eating grin in my head. "Ta!" And he hung up, leaving me gawking dumbly with the dial tone blaring in my ear.

Naminé soundlessly crossed the room to me and patted me reassuringly on the shoulder as I sat there gaping like an idiot. "Don't worry, Axel," she said kindly. "Mr. Sparrow has that sort of effect on everyone."

I let out a gargled sort of sob and turned off the phone. Naminé smiled encouragingly. "That's it, Axel," she said, sounding like an inspirational speaker. "Just let it all out." Her face was set in a very serene, tranquil expression. I supposed this was just part of her everyday life—she was probably very used to this Jack guy.

When I'd finally calmed down, I vaguely realised that Riku still had yet to return. "What happened to your dad?" I asked the blonde, sort of befuddled.

"Well…" Naminé looked a bit uneasy at my question. Her pale eyebrows knit together and her lilac eyes slid in the direction of the front door.

I figured she didn't want to say—that it was a personal matter. But, being as I'm kind of stupidly inquisitive, I immediately took this as an invitation to investigate and find out myself what was going on. So, I got to my feet and headed to the front door, Naminé silently following me.

The front door was closed, but after pulling back the gauzy curtains and peeking through a window, it became clear that Riku had stepped outside to speak with his visitor, rather than allowing the guest in. And this was probably a good thing, because Riku and an older man with long silver hair and a muscular build were in the middle of a heated discussion. Or an argument. A really loud argument.

I turned to Naminé, confused by the confrontation. "Who's that?" I asked her, unconsciously whispering.

Naminé chewed nervously on the inside of her cheek. "He's Dad's eldest brother," she explained softly. "Every time he shows up, he and Dad fight. Dad can't stand him at all."

And from looking at Riku, that much was obvious. Riku's posture was rigid and his hands were clenched in tense fists that shook at his sides, like he wanted nothing more than to punch the lights out of the man towering before him. The man was dressed up in a black leather frock coat, yet didn't appear to be melting or even breaking a sweat. His sheet of silver hair was even longer than Riku's, spilling down his back and to his thighs. And whereas Riku's aqua-coloured eyes were alight with rage, this man's eyes, which were identical in colour and shape, merely looked on impassively.

"Riku," the man said, his baritone voice deceptively quiet and relaxed. "Please cease this foolishness. Come, our Mother will be forgiving if you acknowledge your mistakes and return to—"

"Damn it, Sephiroth," Riku growled, "We've been through this time and again! I'm not returning to the goddamn church! When I renounced Jenova, I was renouncing her forever!"

Sephiroth blinked in a slow, almost sleepy way. "Little Brother," he murmured, "if only you could hear the nonsensical words slipping from your careless mouth. You would weep." He tilted his head back slightly, lifting his eyes up to the heavens and the scorching sun. "Jenova's messiah will be coming, and the messiah will do Jenova's bidding, taking control—"

"'Of the planet, and leading us through space to the Promised Land'," Riku scorned, raising an open palm above his head, mocking a religious gesture. He lowered his hand and sneered openly at his brother. "I've heard it all before, Sephiroth. And I'm here to tell you that it's all pure and utter bullshit."

Sephiroth gave Riku the smallest of frowns. "Jenova, our Mother, would be devastated to hear you say this, Riku. It pains me, too. But all can be transcended through the light of Jenova and her one-winged angel, and—"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Riku interrupted loudly, eyes wide and incredulous. "Do you seriously hear the words coming out of your mouth? Seph, you're totally bonkers. Even Loz, Yazoo, and Kadaj renounced Jenova years ago. Why the hell are you so fucked up?!" He shook his head angrily, annoyed and furious. "Sephiroth. Screw Jenova and fucking get your head out of the clouds! Jenova's Witnesses aren't gonna do anything for you. In fact, they've completely fucked you over." Riku sighed tiredly and rubbed his forehead, clearly irritated by the whole situation. "Seriously, Sephiroth… What happened? You used to be a pretty decent guy…"

Sephiroth stared blankly down at his brother. "I could say the same to you, Little Brother," he replied flatly. "I was sure you could seek your salvation through Jenova, but then you left…" He let out an enigmatic sigh and shook his head. He gave Riku a thinly veiled glare. "No matter. We shall continue this discussion on another day, Riku." He made to leave, but three steps down the front walk, he paused and turned to face Riku again, a small sneer on his lips. "Give my regards to your…husband. Sora, wasn't it? Jewish, isn't he?"

In a flash, Riku had shot to his brother and landed a heavy right hook. Sephiroth silently wiped away the trickle of blood that had escaped his mouth, his hard eyes focused completely on his younger brother. Riku's jaw was set and tight, his fists still shaking as his eyes crackled with fury. "Don't you fucking dare talk about Sora," he hissed. "Just fucking stay away from us, Sephiroth. I don't want anything to do with you or Jenova. Just fucking go away and stay away."

Sephiroth was unfazed. "You know," he said softly, eyes sliding shut, as if relishing the moment. "Those were the same words our father said about our mother when he left us."

Riku instantly paled, looking stricken as he staggered back. And all at once, Naminé was standing protectively in front of her father, her eyes narrowed into an uncomfortable glower. I watched through the now-open door, still stunned stupid by the whole thing.

Sephiroth stared down his nose at Naminé, intrigue evident in his eyes, as if he'd never seen anything quite like her. His gaze returned to Riku and he asked, amused, "Is this your daughter?"

Naminé flushed darkly, but, to her credit, her voice didn't falter. "Please leave," she said, voice clipped and direct. "You are not welcome here."

"Hm," Sephiroth stooped his head slightly to address Naminé at eyelevel. "You are not very polite," he stated, and Naminé unconsciously flinched. The smallest of sneers tugged at his lips and his nose wrinkled in disdain. "That's no way to treat a guest, especially a family member." The sneer was vicious, now. "Clearly," Sephiroth murmured, eyes flashing vindictively, "your heathenish upbringing has failed to teach you this."

Naminé's eyes flashed and a delicate hand shot out to strike Sephiroth, only to be quickly caught and held captive by one of his larger, callused hands. He chuckled, not releasing Naminé's hand. "So rude," he muttered, cat-like eyes almost glowing. He lifted his eyes back to Riku, who still was frozen, eyes wide. He smirked slightly. "Until next time, Little Brother." He let go of Naminé's hand. "May you think on the error of your ways and repent." Then he swept away into a black Oblivion and drove away.

Like clockwork, just as Sephiroth left, Roxas turned the corner into the cul-de-sac, gliding almost lazily on a skateboard. His face was puzzled, blond eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his lips pursed together. "What's going on?" he asked as he hopped off and jogged across the lawn toward us. "Was that just Sephiroth that left?" He sidled up to his sister and father, concerned. "Dad?"

Naminé gave him a dark look and made a jerky motion with her head, taking Riku's hand in her own and gently leading him past me and back inside the house. Riku still looked dazed and ready to cry. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she mumbled, ashamed. She gave Roxas a troubled look and whispered to him, "I'll call Pop and have him come home. You and Axel can go. I'll stay with Dad."

Roxas frowned. "But shouldn't I stay, too?"

"Roxas," Naminé sighed wearily. "Please. You weren't here just now. I can handle this. Besides…" She gave him a meaningful look. "It isn't very polite to just kick Axel out…"

"Wh-what?" Roxas' eyes widened.

"It's really not a big deal!" I said hurriedly, not wanting to impose on them. "I can just explore the town or something, I mean—"

Naminé gave me a rather annoyed look, and I couldn't help but wince and silence myself. She seemed rather pleased with this and ushered us away, promising that she'd take care of everything. Roxas, although he seemed bothered by the whole thing, reluctantly agreed.

We'd settled for taking refuge in a local, air-conditioned restaurant in an attempt to beat the heat. It was a longer walk than our previous ones, and along the way Roxas pumped me for details on the latest Sephiroth Sighting. I was going so crazy with the details that we'd already been seated by the time I'd finished relaying my story. Roxas' mouth had settled into a grim line.

"It's always a prelude for bad news whenever Sephiroth shows up," he told me gloomily. "Dad'll probably be upset for a week or something. Then Uncle Loz will randomly show up on our doorstep in tears. Then Uncle Yazoo will show up all pissed off and break a few plates and make us eat barbeque for a few days. Then Uncle Kadaj will come barging into our house in hysterics and sleep in our guest room for a month." He groaned. "And worst of all, Dad and Pop will end up having comfort sex for a week. It's gonna be like hell!" He slammed his head down on the table with a crazed sob.

I winced, but tried my best not to discourage him. "Well," I said, trying to be positive, "at least it's only a week, right? And they probably won't do it unless it's really late at night, right?"

Roxas gave me a wry smile. "If only!" He shook his head unhappily. "Dad and Pop'll be doing it at every possible moment, and they're so freaking loud they can honestly wake Sleeping Beauty up." He shuddered. "It's terrible to say, but I'm actually surprised that Aurora—she's Marluxia's sister—hasn't woken up yet. I guess she's the only one getting any peace around here." He instantly looked guilty. "I shouldn't have said that…" He slouched in his seat, eyes lowered. "This next week is gonna suck," he complained, dejected.

"Aw, c'mon, Roxas, cheer up. Things'll get better." Liar.

Roxas raised his eyebrows and gave me an amused look. "Liar," he said, almost fondly. He rolled his eyes and reached for his menu, I mimicked his actions.

"What kind of food do they have here?" I asked him, despite the fact that my menu was open in front of me. I'd only briefly glanced at our surroundings. There was a heavy Middle Eastern flair to the restaurant, and it reminded me a lot of the Moroccan district in EPCOT. I mentioned this to Roxas and the look he gave me was reminiscent of my mom's 'woman, are you fucking kidding?' face.

"Axel," Roxas said patiently, setting his menu down flat over his plate and silverware. "This is a Turkish restaurant, remember? There's definitely gonna be a lot of resemblance to the Moroccan district… I think the people here are from the Turkish district in Agrabah."

I hummed at this, now understanding and feeling just a bit ignorant. "You know," I said idly, "my brother Reno got a job at some Turkish restaurant."

Roxas let out a noncommittal grunt of acknowledgement and continued studying his menu. "Hopefully he didn't get stuck at a crappy one," he said. "This is the best one in town, even if those Turks work you until you drop."

I gave him a small smirk. "Oh, yeah? Knowing Reno, he probably doesn't even have a job. I bet he made it all up." I closed my menu again and looked at the fancy golden logo of an Arabian palace on its cover. The name of the restaurant was sort of provocative: Cave of Wonders. I opened up my menu again, thoroughly tickled by the name of the restaurant.

Then I froze. Blinked. Blinked again. And closed the menu again and gawked at the logo. Cave of Wonders? Isn't that…?

And just when I was about to profess my great discovery, who should be our waiter but my own idiot brother? He was dressed like a typical waiter from the waist up: well-pressed white collared shirt and black vest, but from the waist down, he looked pretty crazy in his baggy pants. He wasn't looking at us, he was much too focussed with tightening the drawstrings on his harem-style pants. His pen was sitting tucked into one of the folds of the sash wrapped around his waist, and he was holding his notepad in his teeth, so everything he said to us was sort of muffled. "When the wind's from the east/And the sun's from the west/And the sand in the glass is right," he recited around the notepad.

(At the mention of sand being in a glass, I immediately grabbed my glass of water to check for grains of sand, like a total n00b. And Roxas did a face-palm and explained that the poem was referring to an hourglass.)

"Come on down/Stop on by/Hop a carpet and fly/To another Arabian night," Reno finished the verse with a heavy, mortified sigh and plucked the pen from his sash. He still hadn't looked at us. "May I take your order?"

Roxas and I were quiet for a few seconds, but I couldn't restrain myself, and I jeered, "So, explain to me what this 'Arabian night' package includes. From the way you're dressed, I'd say there's a harem involved. But tell me, do I get my own harem, or am I expected to share? 'Cause I don't like sharing."

Reno's head snapped up and his eyes grew huge and I swear that fangs literally popped out of his mouth when he saw me smirking at him. And I've gotta give Roxas credit: he managed to hold Reno back and prevent him from turning me into a messy pulp. "Axel, you fucking bitch!" Reno hissed and snarled at me, his hands lashing out like an upset kitten's claws. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

I gave him an innocent look. "I'm just here to eat, Reno. I had no idea that this is where you…erm…'work'."

Reno lunged at me again, but Roxas held on tight and ground out, "He's telling the truth! I was the one that brought him here. I didn't even know you'd gone job hunting." Reno relaxed a little at this and Roxas let him go after his breathing had relaxed and he stopped growling at me.

Begrudgingly, my brother held out his notepad and glared sourly at me. "May I take your order?" he all but spat.

Since I'm a younger brother from hell, I had every intention of making this a long and miserable experience for Reno. I tapped my chin in a mock-thoughtful way. "I dunno," I said, cheerfully ignoring the fact that Reno had snapped his pen in his grip. I gave him an imploring look. "You're the knowledgeable employee," I pointed out. "What do you suggest?"

Reno looked just about ready to maul me, but obviously thought better of it and restrained himself, if only because murdering a customer would basically shoot his pay check in the ass and guarantee the loss of his job. Roxas must've noticed this, because he quickly spoke up, "Everything here is pretty good…but if it's Turkish Delight you're looking for, you're better off going to Stone Table. Theirs is much better." He licked his lips as he skimmed over the menu again. "I think I'll just have the kebab platter," he told Reno.

"You've been here before, so I'm sure you know that it's a pretty large serving," Reno commented in an offhand way as he scribbled down the order.

"That is true." Roxas frowned. Then he turned to regard me, "Hey, Axel, d'you wanna share it, then?"

I blinked. "Uh, sure."

Reno nodded and collected our menus, looking much more professional now that he'd calmed down. "Anything to drink?" he asked.

My eyes must've lit up or something when he asked. "Can I have Lifestream?" Lifestream was always my favourite pop.

Reno nodded distractedly and made a small note. "Anything for you?" he asked Roxas.

Roxas shrugged. "Just water," he replied.

Reno nodded again and left, telling us that our order would be out in a few minutes.

Just after Reno disappeared into the kitchens, Roxas' suddenly said, voice low and subdued, "I'm really sorry you had to see that, earlier."

"What?" It took me a moment to realise he was referring to the encounter with Sephiroth and Riku. I coloured slightly. "Oh, that…" I sheepishly scratched at the back of my neck. "It's not a big deal…"

Roxas frowned, looking painfully remorseful. "It's not the kind of impression I'd like you to get of my family," he muttered. He sighed. "My dad's family wasn't always part of Jenova's Witnesses. They were originally part of the Straeh Modgnik community. They were members of the Ssenkrad ot Rood division," he clarified, the foreign words rolling easily off his tongue.

I nodded. Straeh Modgnik was a sort of unorganised faith that centred on the concept that enlightenment could be found through the heart and soul of an individual. It had a number of different sects and subdivided covens, and in spite of the varying practices and beliefs, Straeh Modgnik was the primary religion of the United Kingdoms of Harhtz. My own mother was a follower, but of a different sect—she was an advent member of the Traeh fo Sessecnirp.

"But then, my dad's father just up and left them." Roxas shrugged limply. "I really don't know what went on," he admitted, pausing only to thank Reno when he dropped off a basket of naan. "This was ages ago. Dad was, like, fourteen or fifteen."

I took a piece of bread and distractedly nibbled on it. "So, then what happened?"

"Well, my dad's mom sort of lost it," Roxas said, not unkindly. "She just…fell apart, I guess. And she started getting all involved in that Jenova cult-thing." He sighed. "The whole family got warped in it, actually." He took a piece of naan for himself and took an aggressive chomp out of it. "In fact," he said, voice muffled around the bread, "this was the cause of the only falling-out my parents have had to date."

"Seriously?" I asked. "Riku and Sora fought over this religion-shit?" It seemed kind of weird to imagine, but I really didn't know. I'd seen my share of religious psychopaths—particularly those Yevonites. They're complete lunatics.

Roxas nodded, his eyes glinting with irritation. "You have no idea," he drawled. "But Dad 'fessed up that it was really his fault." He made a vague flicking gesture with his wrist. "He got all depressed and made life really difficult for Pop—and your mom, too, now that I think about it." He drummed his fingers on the table, his head tilted back in thought. "The three of them went through a rough patch, that year," he affirmed with a nod.

"Really?" I was unusually interested in hearing Roxas talk about all this. Mom had never really told Reno or me much about her childhood, and even less about her friends. The most she'd ever told us was 'never go on a road-trip with your friends, no matter how close you are.'

"Yeah," Roxas said, chewing idly on some more bread, his blue eyes fixed on me. "I'm actually kinda surprised you've never heard of this story," he added, raising a blond eyebrow slightly. "This fight of theirs reached its peak during their road-trip."

"Their road-trip?" I echoed. Pft. Figures.

"Yup," Roxas said as he tore off some more naan and popped it into his mouth. "Did your mom ever tell you about that story?" He grinned. "That was a fiasco, man. They all got separated and lost in the Disney Park for a retardedly long time." He snickered. "And my Pop ended up running around with the guys who dress in the Goofy and Donald costumes." He grinned at me, eyes glimmering. "It sounded pretty damn epic, if you ask me."

I squinted. "He was travelling with Goofy and Donald?" Why did this all sound so familiar…?

"In case you haven't realised," Roxas piped up, seeing the pensive expression on my face, "This is where Pop got the inspiration for Castle Soul."

I practically jumped out of my seat.

"FOR REAL?!" I exclaimed, eyes bursting from their sockets.

Roxas watched me impassively from his seat, still chewing his bread. (He was probably used to these sorts of dramatics—living with Ven and whatnot.) He swallowed and nodded in an uninterested sort of way. "That's right. Miyu's character is based on my pop, Mamoru is my dad, and Risa is your mom."

(Oh, so that's why Mom used to always ogle Risa and be like 'Now, THAT girl is one hot piece of shit.')

I gawked at him for a brief moment before slowly sinking back in my seat. I cast a withering look at the one woman dressed in an elaborate fur coat who was giving me the stink-face. When I turned my attention back to Roxas, he had a small smirk on his face that actually suited him in a way that made him look like Roxas and not Ven. (If that makes any sense.)

"Is it seriously that shocking?" he asked, amused. His eyebrows were raised the slightest bit, and he was leaning back in his chair, practically draping his limbs about. There was a small powdered sugar stain on his left thigh, just peeking out from beneath the hem of his t-shirt.

Licking my lips, I roughly averted my eyes back to the blond's face. I stared mutely for a moment. Was it just me, or had his smirk gotten wider…? I quickly shook off my unease, and forced out a strained bark of laughter. "I guess fanfiction writers aren't totally off their rockers when they pair off Miyu and Mamoru."

Roxas chuckled wryly. "You have no idea."

I guess it's only obvious that Roxas and I ended up being kicked out of the restaurant. Well, that's not exactly accurate. I got kicked out of the restaurant for "harassing" Reno, and Roxas only left with me because he was basically my only ticket back to our cul-de-sac.

Seriously, it's not my fault. Reno was just asking to have the saffron thrown at him.

So, we were sitting there on the curb outside Cave of Wonders, picking at our Styrofoam container of kebab with plastic forks, when an obnoxious Gummi pulled up beside us and the window rolled down, revealing Naminé behind the steering wheel. She looked bemused, albeit harried—probably from all the drama at her home. She parked the car, turned it off, and slipped out from her seat, leaned tiredly against the car, and regarded us with a curious gaze. "What're you guys doing out here?" she asked unceremoniously as she lifted a pale hand to her face and rubbed dazedly at her eyes. Her eyes hovered from me to Roxas. "I thought you guys were just gonna go eat…why take-out?" she mused.

Roxas let a short bark of laughter and flicked a few grains of rice at me. "This kook got us kicked out," he informed his sister as he raised an arm to shield himself from the rice I was flinging at him.

"It was not my fault," I argued stubbornly, chucking some more rice at him. Roxas just laughed and used his fork as a catapult to lob a piece of fried tomato at me. The tomato landed on my cheek with a nasty-sounding fulp! and Naminé let out a soft moan of revulsion that was easily drowned out by Roxas' roar of laughter. Disgusted, I peeled the tomato wedge off my face and chucked it away with a groan. I rounded on Roxas, ready to bitch my evil nonexistent heart out, when I found I just couldn't. He was laughing so hard, he was doubled over and clutching his sides, tears leaking out his eyes something fierce. He looked so happy—even if it was at my expense—that I just couldn't bring myself to stab his blue eyes out with my fork.

But the temptation was still great, so I settled for throwing a handful of rice at him, a bunch of grains settling in between his spikes of hair. Roxas' face fell within nanoseconds when he realised I had avenged myself.

His mouth curved downwards and he immediately brought both of his hands to his hair, mussing it and trying to remove the rice. He glared at me from the corners of his eyes. "Dude," he said, sounding caught between annoyance and entertainment. "Not cool."

I stuck my tongue out at him in retaliation. "You started it," I jibed childishly as he went back to picking rice out of his hair. Naminé sighed, a small grin on her face, and shook her head at our antics.

"You guys are strange," she mumbled, shaking her head in amused resignation. She tilted her head to the side, pursing her lips slightly as she scrutinised Roxas' hair. "You missed a few," she said vaguely, making an odd sort of gesture with her eyebrows rather than her hands.

Roxas scowled deeply and started running his fingers through his hair. "Where?" he asked, an almost petulant whine threading into his voice. Naminé gave her brother a weary look and I couldn't help but sigh.

"Here," I muttered, giving in and extending a hand to help Roxas pick the remaining rice from his hair.

Naminé giggled into her palm as she watched us. "You guys look like monkeys or something," she remarked, her eyes sparkling with an unfathomable delight.

I made a face at her. Roxas merely quirked an eyebrow. "Don't let Grandma hear you say that," he advised, having completely surrendered himself to being "groomed" by me. "She'll go ballistic if you make any sort of comment that makes monkeys or apes or whatever sound inferior."

Naminé rolled her eyes in response. "Grandma—Pop's mom—is a little obsessed with monkeys," she said matter-of-factly. Roxas made a low humming sound in the back of his throat, but didn't disagree.

I glanced curiously up at Naminé, not really following the conversation. "Your grandmother?"

"She's a primatologist," she explained. "So is our great-grandfather. They study primates—and they're both completely infatuated with gorillas."

I furrowed my brow as I strained my memory for information from the biology course I'd taken sometime back. "Primates are mammals, right?" I asked lamely.

"Nice one, Captain Obvious," Roxas snickered. I tugged playfully on a lock of his hair to shut him up.

"Yup," Naminé said with a nod of confirmation. "Actually, humans are primates, too."

Roxas turned and smirked widely at me. "And that means that we're mammals, too," he said. He wiggled his eyebrows and his grin turned lascivious. "You know what that means, right?"

Naminé clapped a hand over her eyes and shook her head, silvery-blonde hair flying wildly. "Oh, Roxas, please don't quote that song… You know how much I hate it…"

My eyes widened in alarm as Roxas continued looking at me like I was his dinner. "Wh-what song?" I asked Naminé hastily, trying in vain to edge away from Roxas—little blond frick just kept moving closer and closer.

And what happened next was like some sort of really bad porn movie. Except not really, because there really wasn't anything explicit about it. Just the same, it made my stomach clench weirdly.

With a last, deliberate look at Naminé, Roxas swivelled back to face me and drawled, "You and me, baby, ain't nothin' but mammals/So let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel."

And with Roxas totally in my face, softly murmuring freakishly provocative lyrics with a totally straight face and half-lidded eyes, the only thing going through my head was 'aslfjawoieurwoef'.

And my facial expression must've reflected the pure AWKWARD flying around me, because when Roxas pulled away, his face split into a shit-eating grin and he started cracking up. "Dude!" he sniggered, "Your face is completely red!"

I think my face got even redder at seeing him practically die of laughter. "F-fuck you!" I choked out. My badass retaliation seemed to do little for redemption. Roxas paused in his laughter for a brief second to merely give me the classic "bitch, please" face then promptly went back to laughing like a hyena.

Naminé had more sympathy for my disgusting show of lameness. "Just ignore him, Axel," she said resolutely, clearly used to these sorts of break-outs. "He gets like this once in a while." She nodded sagely. "He should calm down in a few minutes."

I wasn't so sure I believed her. From the way Roxas was laughing, it seemed like he was inhaling pure laughing gas. I was willing to guess that he'd still be chortling about this next Thursday.

Bastard.

"Anyway," Naminé said, pushing herself off the car to stand upright. She glanced at her watch. "I just came along to see if you guys wanted to head back home," she informed us—well, she informed me; Roxas wasn't exactly listening. "Your mom just got back," she told me as she pulled a keychain with my mom's lucky charm out of her pocket and tossed it lightly to me.

I caught the keychain and couldn't help but be confused at the situation. "Mom's back?" I asked, disbelieving. "She was gonna go to a locksmith, wasn't she…?"

"That was the original plan," Naminé said with a nod, and a small smile tugged at her lips. "She was horrified by the cost the locksmith was demanding, so she asked Pop to do it for her."

I gawked. "Sora knows how to work with locks?" Seriously, he speaks Moogle, he basically created Castle Soul…is there anything he can't do?

Smiling sheepishly, Naminé replied, "Sort of. It was an odd job Pop had as a teenager. He used to unlock stuff and make new keys and locks and stuff." She shrugged. "He just had a knack for it, and he offered to do it for your mom for free."

"No wonder Mom agreed," I guffawed. She was such a cheap person at heart.

Naminé smiled wryly before continuing. "Yeah, well, she came over to our house, looking for you, and when she heard about what happened today—y'know, with Dad—she decided to hang with Dad and Pop for moral support." She paused and nodded toward the keys in my hand. "She brought you some food from Stone Table, so you won't starve when you get back."

"Well," I said slowly, overwhelmed and shocked that my mom had done something thoughtful. "Um, that sounds all right, but what about you guys?" I asked. "What would you guys do?"

Roxas, who had calmed down sometime in the seconds before, gave me a friendly grin. "Don't worry about us, man. We'll find something to entertain us," he said reassuringly.

"For real?" I asked dubiously.

Naminé nodded earnestly. "For real," she said. Then she frowned a little. "Actually, I was also sent out to pick Ven up from the Backdoor Mall's security. Apparently he threatened some politician or the other." Roxas let out a snort of laughter.

"Again?" he chuckled. "That's the third time this week…"

Naminé cast a reproving look at her brother. "You know what he's like when he's not with Terra," she muttered, averting her eyes when he started smirking.

Probably sensing that I was missing out on part of the conversation, Roxas turned to regard me. "The Backdoor Mall is the local gay mall," he explained to me.

I gawked. "A gay mall?" Then I paused and thought about it. "I guess the name is appropriate, then," I said blandly. Roxas chuckled.

"The name was really more of a coincidence than anything else," he said, inclining his head knowingly. "See, Backdoor Mall was literally just that—a mall that you had to enter via the backdoor. 'Cause it's an underground mall and it's located beneath Frontdoor Mall, and the main entrance to the Backdoor Mall is on the opposite side of the building of the Frontdoor Mall's door."

I stared at him. "Then why didn't they just combine the two malls…?"

Roxas and Naminé stared at me like they'd never heard more ridiculous words in their lives.

Feeling uneasy, I laughed nervously. "Uh, so just take me home, then."

The Afterword: ACK. I took sooo long on this. There really is nothing I can say to make up for this lameitude… I'm really sorry, guys. This chapter isn't even all that great… D:

Like, I'd spent my summer updating "Twilight" (which has just turned a year old, today) and writing my beastly oneshot "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Crying", and I guess that I just pushed this away into a dark corner… I gotta say, this chapter was seriously fighting to not be written. It's kind of annoying, really.

I've got some stuff planned for the next chapter, though, unlike this chapter, which I went into pretty blindly… D: So, the next one should go along more quickly.

One more thing! I have a poll on my profile pertaining to pairings with Cloud Strife. :D I'd like to see what you guys think!