Rori's Corner: Yes, I realize I've neglected this story for a bit...oho~ Well, I wasn't planning on dropping PA, but hey, I'm lazy. And I've finally decided to update ~

That, and I've been made aware of a certain reader's constant watch on this ficcie. I am officially scared.

Paranormal Attraction

Chapter 2

Misery Business

When I wake from being direly unconscious, a stinging pain shooting up my leg brings me back to full awareness, and also into the not so quiet reality. Lying on the mattress with my eyes wandering around the white room, I realize I've been brought to the school infirmary after the latest fracas, an incident that I can't quite remember in my current state. The windows atop each sectioned bed, divided by silky beige canopies, filter in light of the grayscale morning, and I watch the fragments of dust cast in the spectrum, calming myself and meditating my memories back. Murmurs from behind the draping cloth introduce my to others' presences, and in curiosity I attempt to sit up, only to fall with a helpless thump back on the bed when I feel my whole back agitating in response.

Damn. Just what did I do to deserve such crap, anyway?

"Mister Leonhart, I understand your concern for the young man in this division, but please, he is currently resting. It is not an easy task recuperating from such a crisis he had experienced from the defective depository," a solemn, professional voice urges behind the canopy.

Oh. Right. Ghost in locker blowing it up on me. Not just myself, if I recall correctly, but someone else was there as well. He must be this indignant Mr. Leonhart, then. Using the bedpost as support, I steadily press my back against it and sit straighter on the mattress.

"It'll only take a few minutes. Maybe even five seconds – please?"

I have to smile at that. He sounds like such a child.

As if trying to remain as composed as possible, the man replies in a controlled, cold tone, "You must head back to class, Mister Leonhart. You have no need for worrying about your classmate when you are doing terribly in analytic geometry."

"B-but..." Sora's voice falters, and I have to stifle my snicker behind my hands. "You've always let Axel visit people in the infirmary, and he's not top of the class either!"

"That," the doctor says condescendingly, "is another matter."

"Xemnas, you hate my guts."

I can see the pout on the brunet's face, and trust me, it is amusing. The screech of a chair sliding across the marble tiles endears my ears, and I squint through the canopy curiously, wondering what's happening outside.

"You, mister Leonhart, need to learn manners," the man known as Xemnas reprimands, voice steel and unmoving. By the sound of thudding footsteps, I assume he's making his way out of the infirmary. "Do whatever you want for the time-being, but know that when I come back, you have better be back in your class. Do you understand, Leonhart?"

With barely contained excitement, Sora answers quickly, "Got it, Mr. Xemnas. You're my most favorite staff member." No reply comes from the administrator, aside from the shuffling of footfalls. I can't even stomach the amount of lies the guy can conjure, either. As I'm thinking this, Sora rips the sliding canopy away from the bed, and I'm met with lucid white light and cerulean irises. Inevitable concern protrudes from the oceanic pool of emotions, and Sora walks over to the side of the school bed, navy blue uniform contrasting against the beige and white walls. "Roxas, are you all right?" he asks, seating himself comfortably on the plush sliding chair. His hyper tone has disappeared and replaced with an unfamiliar worry.

I nod in response, showing him the elbow I had scraped when the locker exploded due to uncontrollable paranormal fury. When I knocked Sora to the floor in order to avoid a traumatic experience with flying metal, I had landed on top of him and became his accidental shield, my body as a splinter-proof. However, most of the exploding, jagged pieces of the manipulated depository hand flown on top of me, some landing on my back while others scraping my arms and legs.

Yes, that is the extent of the ghost girl's rage.

I don't think I want to be witness to anymore of her showcasing the limit of her possessiveness.

"I'm fine. Just scratches here and there," I lie easily, not letting him know the bruise on my arm where the defective locker had connected with when it fell. It hurts, despite my little white lie.

Sora frowns, mouth pursing. "But still, accidents like that are quite unusual, don't you think?"

"Uhh, yeah, pretty rare," I agree, hesitation eating my voice.

"But still, the way you saved me – it was almost like you were expecting it, Roxas," the brunet declares excitedly, leaning in.

"A-ahaha," I chuckle nervously, slumping against the bedpost with a strained smile. "Not possible. I just sorta', uh, saw my locker shaking...something like that."

"But you weren't looking at your locker at the time."

Is it me? Or is he totally mocking me? Either way, I have to pretend I have absolutely no idea what the hell he's going on about. So, shaking my head in that good ol' "You-must-be-mistaken-young-man" kind of way, I tell him in a clipped tone, "It was just a natural instinct, I guess. Nothing more, really."

Sora stares at me, a gaze I'm not quite sure if it is in suspicion, then grins with all his pearl whites showing, a smile that surely brightens the damp atmosphere. I know I feel refreshed by it, or, mostly I think I'm relieved from the interrogation. He leans on the railing along the bed, cupping his chin with one hand, and asks in a dubious tone, "So, how long do you think you'll have to stay here? Considering that your locker exploded on us, and you suffered from most of the damage."

"Probably until lunch," I determine.

"Are you sure you're all right? Thanks for saving me, though. You deserve the 'Most Heroic Act' Academy Award," he says seriously.

I laugh. "Then I should throw myself at people some more, don't you think?"

Sora starts to reply with that bright smile of his, but something catches my attention. There, drifting around the ceiling, just beside the canopy, is the redheaded ghost, materializing from dusty air, her once innocent admiration for the brunet turning into downright distaste, an angry snarl. Sora is oblivious, I've grown accustomed to understand, but I need to do something about the vase the girl's carrying in her transparent hands.

"Sora, watch out!" I cry in warning, grabbing him by the arm just as the porcelain jar wavers and eases from the ghost's grasp, crashing down in a flurry of movement and spilling water and plants everywhere on the chair Sora was just sitting on. Off towards the side where I've dragged him by last minute instinct, the brunet stares at the seat with wide, disbelieving blue eyes. I glance at the ghostly girl, taking in her fleeting expression of guilt as she disappears into thin air, before concentrating on the sodden furniture and a stunned brunet. Pushing the cotton cover off me, I maneuver to the bed railing, feeling my muscles ache in protest, and place a firm hand on the hard steel. "Sora?" I murmur.

"T-that...how did you know, Roxas?" He looks at me intently, surprise coiling in his deep, blue eyes.

I'm trained to think out of the box, Sora.

No, for real. I can't just spout about ghosts and their tendency to unleash harm on innocent mediators – he'd think I'm in need of rehab. I decide to ignore his question, saying in a dry voice, "You're a danger magnet."

"Roxas, you didn't answer me."

I shift on the mattress, refusing to blink when he stares at me, attempting desperately to look beyond innocent. "It was a coincidence. I don't even know what happened, but I kind of...just..." I trail off, this time bowing my head, obscuring my eyes that surely portray my own doubt behind golden blonde hair. The only time I dare to look up is when Sora starts to chuckle in that sheepish way of his, so full of hesitation and half filled with laughter.

"But, well, thanks again, Roxas! I think," he says, scratching the back of his head nonchalantly, "you should try out for Struggle, with that instinct of yours."

Uhh, no. I already have ghost-busting as my predominant past-time, I doubt I can save anymore time for games.

...Is what I want to say, but I think that would come off as pretty rude. Instead, I smile tightly and reply, "I don't know what Struggle is, since I'm from Destiny Island and all." I look at the liquidized surface of the sliding chair, feeling my rapid heartbeats that I can't recall hyperventilating eighty beats per second finally slow to a normal speed. I was foolish to have let down my guard, especially with such a violent ghost roaming around campus.

"But that was a really close call. I'd hate to think what would happen if you didn't...well, you know, save me."

You would end up in the bed next to me, separated by that single curtain. I choose to say something else instead, "At least you'll have a reasonable excuse to ditch class, right?"

Sora laughs, arms supporting his head casually. "Now that you mention it...maybe you shouldn't have saved me," he jokes. Seeing the look on my face, his carefree grin dissipates into a frown, and he quickly stammers, "I mean, not that I'm not thankful or anything!" He is about to sneak in an apology in, I can tell, but then his mouth closes and his eyes freeze abruptly, his whole figure going rigid. Since the sudden change is rather...sudden, I give him a raised eyebrow, glancing back to see what he's all hung up about.

Standing there, in a white doctor's coat is a tall man holding a clipboard in his left arm. His silver hair, neatly resting on his shoulder and other strands visible down his neck, reminds me somewhat of the ghost taking residence in my room, Riku, but in my opinion the guy's hair looks smoother than this man's. Either way, at six and a half feet tall, he's bound to look pretty intimidating. Not to mention those condescending fiery red eyes flitting over Sora and driving into me. "Mister Leonhart," his deep, slow murmurs introduce me to the Mr. Xemnas Sora was talking to earlier, "shouldn't you be in class by now?"

The brunet shifts from foot to foot. "Uh, um. I was just about to go. See, I was talking to Roxas, my friend, and forgot all about - "

"Shinra."

I blink. "Yes?" Wait, the guy's talking to me? How does he know my last name? Huh?

Xemnas's eyes flicker over my face, a continuing look of mixed emotions crossing his eyes, and feeling the tension straining, I look away while I try to climb off the bed. Sora guides me, his blue irises glancing at the tall staff member every so often. I pray that the man doesn't notice the broken vase until it's too late and we're gone.

"We, uh, will be heading to class now," I mumble, exchanging a quick look with my classmate; Sora nods in understanding.

The man's leather shoes take a step forward. "To my understanding, Shinra Roxas is found unconscious in the brink of morning after the dire accident with a defective depository. He does not have time to be handed his schedule."

Of course, Xemnas is right - I don't have my schedule. Damn.

"Then, I'll help him to the main office," Sora volunteers brightly, standing beside me. Seeing the narrowed eyes of the taller male, we can only assume that he is not going to let us off easily.

"You, Mister Leonhart, will return to fifth period. I will have someone else take care of this young man."

Sora's sigh is so heavy that it tickles my ear. I wonder who this "someone else" would be. Not a minute later, as the three of us leave the French-windowed infirmary with a dramatic view of the outside scenery, a dimly lit day with gusty winds and melting snow, I find a tall blond leaning against the wall opposite the room. My heart leaps, beating wildly in excitement, and I hurry over to the senior, exclaiming, "Cloud!" His lowered eyelids flutter open to peer down at me, translucent, liquid blue staring into my cerulean ones. His thin lips curve into a barely noticeable smile, and I grin back up at him.

"Roxas."

"Eh? Cloud? You know Roxas?" Sora's curious voice asks behind me. I turn to look at him, about to give him a smile, when I notice Xemnas's cold gaze. My voice is trapped in my throat, and I decide not to say anything; instead, turning back to Cloud.

"Sora," my brother acknowledges. His eyes flicker over to the doctor, and he says in a slightly constricted tone, "Mr. Xemnas."

"Well, well, well," the man drawls lucidly, inclining his head and looking down at me before meeting Cloud, "the Shinra brothers, hm? I suppose you two will be the next candidates in this year's competition, won't you agree," he pauses, mouth letting slip a small sneer as his eyes flit over Sora, "Leonhart Squall's younger brother?"

Sora crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowing heatedly. Noticing my inquiring expression, the brunet takes a breath and says lightly, "I didn't know you were interested in the school's recreational activities, Mr. Xemnas." I wince, seeing the vein throbbing in the addressed man's temple, even under his silver bangs. Just when I think he's going to give us all detentions, he turns his back on us, waving a hand in dismissal.

"Head back to class before I notify the principal of your misbehavior. And I will see you in Health, Cloud."

When we're sure that Xemnas has left, Sora and I glance at each other. He's the first to break out in snickers.

"Well, let's hope we have a class together," I say when the laughter has died down.

Sora nods, grinning. He looks up at Cloud, who'd been quiet the entire time we were insulting Xemnas, and inquires seriously, "You two are brothers?" Both of us blink at him.

"We don't look alike?" I ask.

"No, it's just that I always thought Cloud was an only child," Sora says, laughing sheepishly. I glance at Cloud to see his expression; he seems mildly amused by Sora's presumption.

"And what's the competition thing the doctor mentioned?" I prompt with real curiosity this time. I can feel my brother shifting behind me, probably a signal that we should go get my schedule, but I'm interested as to what Xemnas was talking about. I mean, really, what competition? If it's like that hide-and-seek tag team game back in Destiny Island, I'm out. I always end up being "it" for some reason, and that is absolutely lame, in my opinion anyway.

"Oh, that? Well, it's a sibling exclusive game, so only students with a brother or sister can participate. You must have the same gender sibling, and, really – " he looks embarrassed by this time, I don't know why – "it's basically fanservice for the yaoi club – "

"Sora, you have class," Cloud cuts in uncharacteristically, back completely off the wall and posture straight. He's at least a head and a half taller than me, and with his lean build, he's rather impressive, gazing down at us like the way he's doing so now. Sora shuffles his feet, giving me a pat on the shoulder and a cheesy grin.

I lean over despite the sternness of Cloud's stare and whisper into the brunet's ear, "Yaoi? What's that?" However, before I can persuade a good answer from Sora, I find my arm being whisked back by a strong hand, making me bump into a hard body. "Ow," I mutter, rubbing my head. Looking up, I'm met with a firm pair of angelic blue and silky blonde tresses, strands that frame a pointed chin and prominent jaw.

"We don't have much time, Roxas."

Whoops. Cloud doesn't sound too happy.

"Ahaha, I'll see you guys later then," Sora pipes up.

I sigh, giving up, providing my friend with a very unenthusiastic wave in farewell as I'm dragged down the hallways to the main office. Life sucks.

Rori's Corner: I am epic~ly sorry for slow update. Aharhh. Yes, yaoi beware - aherm.