[2007] Secret Santa Submissions Part Two
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singwithin
From:sandy_rain
Title: Pay Off
Rating: G
Characters: Axel, Aerith
Word Count: 236
“You’re just setting yourself up to fail, y’know.”
She stops walking, feeling a smile crawl onto her lips, then stops herself and tries to frown.
“I can see that. You’re not very good at frowning at all.”
Again, she smiles. He knows her too well for someone who is mostly a stranger.
Aerith turns around, a basket of flowers in her arms, then looks him straight in the eyes (green, like hers, the same type of playfulness in them too).
“Neither are you, Axel,” comes out of her lips, playful and cheery in the dark alley.
Bright-red hair slips out of the shadows, gloved hands already lifting into the air in a “eh, whatever” position. He’s moving closer to her, the same lazy walk as always.
“Don’t avoid the question, Miss Flowers.”
All of the smiles drop, and she can feel herself being exhausted suddenly, like the worlds and truths are just too much to bear.
“Maybe so,” she replies, still staring straight at him, “but I’ll do what I can. Just like you.”
He’s surprised, she can see, and he goes back to his smiles and wise-cracks, jokes and playfulness.
Axel opens up a portal and starts walking back into it, waving as he says, “Yeah? Well, we’ll see if it pays off.”
She’s still staring after him, even after he’s gone, until the 10 o’ clock bell rings, and she goes back to walking.
Title: Anyone you want
Rating: G
Characters: Destiny Island kids
Word Count: 165
Selphie felt like changes were needed.
The adults wouldn’t listen and never remembered, but she and Wakka and Tidus eventually did. Starting when Kairi disappeared, completely restored when she came back (with, now she remembered, Sora and Riku).
Those three were heroes and villains and princesses. They saved the world and saved the worlds. And again. She had a gut feeling that they would again too.
But Destiny Island was not the home for super heroes and damsels in distress. You didn’t go there to become amazing.
“I could be a super hero,” she says quietly to Wakka and Tidus, lying down on the seashore of the little island, “but I could be just me too.”
“Maybe I could save the world,” Tidus starts, staring up at the sky, “but I’d rather stay here. I bet there’s no other place with blitzball.”
“We could be anything,” Wakka whispers, looking at the sea, “or anyone. Super hero, normal people, whatever, man.”
“We could be something more.”
To:sandy_rain
From:osmandias
Title: N/A
Recipient: sandy_rain
Characters: Donald, Goofy, hints of Max
Theme: General
Rating: General
Words: 770
Dear Minnie,
Whelp, it's been over a year since I've been gone from Disney Castle. There isn't anything new to report about the Darkness except that it's gone down since Sora and I closed the door. The young boy I'm travelling with, Riku, is right now staying with DiZ. I've been shadowing the Organization hoping to find a weak spot to infiltrate. I hope that…
"…you keep looking after yourself and that the nephews are doing well. Nobody better touch my stuff while I'm away." Donald quacked to himself, a sign that he was deep in thought, with pen in one hand and the letter on the flat hood of the Gummi ship. The muffled roar of space engines and the smell of fuel and greasy food filled the air. It wasn't the greatest of places to compose a letter, let alone think of how to write it, but it was the only place Donald had to use.
"Whatcha doing, Donald?" Goofy, finished with filling up the ship's energy cubes, hovered over the magician's shoulder. The trio, under Sora's suggestion, had stopped at a small diner located (or so the billboard said) on the other side of the galaxy. Eating a cooked and greasy meal was more appetizing than looking through the dry rations that wee stored for interplanetary flight.
"Writing Daisy a letter." Donald gave his friend a sheepish grin. "I didn't write one to her when we left to find the King. An' I promised her I would write when I had the chance." There was no reason why he shouldn't have sent a letter to Daisy. She hadn't let Donald hear the end of it after their year-long absence; just because he was off saving worlds didn't mean he couldn't write her a note between Gummi ship pit stops.
That was the polite way she put her argument to him. Donald remembered saying anything possible to please her and have the lecture stop.
"Goofy," the mage looked over his shoulder at his larger friend, "how does 'Love from Donald, Toots' sound as a closing line?"
Startled by the question, and looking away from a Gummi truck that was belching exhaust into the air, Goofy furrowed his brow. "Gwarsh Donald, Daisy is more than that to you. If you're gonna marry her you can't call her 'toots'. You should say 'sweetheart' or 'darling', maybe 'my beloved' for--" The knight stopped ticking options off on his fingers when he realized Donald wasn't listening.
Goofy leaned back against the ship, crossed lanky arms over a thin chest, and looked up at the stars through the haze of exhaust and other pollutants. This diner had seen better days, but Goofy remembered a vacation he had made with his family along this route. The same diner and an old reliable Gummi ship that had carried too many camping supplies. That had been a good vacation; fishing, seeing what could have been a Bigfoot, eating canned beans, teaching Max to start a fire.
Max.
Donald read his letter over the sound of a ship's coughing engine. "Dear Daisy, not much to say. We're at a diner right now getting some real food. The Gummi ship doesn't have much. This time I'll send you flowers, or I can get something nice for you in Agrabah." Donald quaked devilishly at the thoughts of the genie's treasure. I hope you keep looking after yourself and that the nephews are doing well. Nobody better touch my stuff while I'm away. Love, Donald."
Folding the letter into a white envelope, he spied around for one of the moogles that the group had seen earlier. Finding the small furball sitting near the soda machines, accepting peoples' packages that needed delivery, Donald was about to walk over until Goofy stopped him.
"Hey Donald, do you got a moment? I need to borrow some paper and a letter."
Donald asked the inevitable question when he had returned from their ship with the items. "What's it for Goofy?"
"I gotta make a letter myself. For my son, Maxie. He's got to know his father's going to be going away again." Hunching over the hood of the ship, Goofy chewed the pen's tip and thought about what he could say. It had to be understanding. It had to be a promise to Max that he would come back. He would be coming home and when he did, maybe they could take another vacation again. This time wherever Max wanted to go, even if it was to a rock concert.
"Dear Max, I'm sorry I can't give a next post of address…"
To:osmandias
From:fox_the_kitsune
Recipient:osmandias
Title: Untitled (because I suck =/)
Characters: Xaldin, Aurora
Word Count: 558
"Do you really think your Prince came here looking for love?"
This hooded intruder was beginning to make quite the pest of himself. He seemed amused at any biting responses she had for his prodding questions and remarks. More so, he seemed especially interested in her lack of an answer for this latest question. How could she have an answer when she'd never really thought of it? She had never asked Phillip why he'd come.
"I do not believe that is any of your concern," was her best answer.
"Have I angered you?" His tone was so infuriatingly suave and possessed just a touch of feigned innocence.
"Can you not tell that you have?" She was trying to get some spinning done now that spinning wheels were no longer a threat.
"It's really quite simple," he said softly, "If you know how to read people."
"And you do."
"Of course." He came and went as he pleased in the same manner as the Heartless, though he was quite obviously not a Heartless. As he had caused no harm, yet, the guards had given up trying to catch him. They were not aware of his whisperings to their beloved Princess.
"To what end?"
Within the space of a heartbeat, he was closer than she cared for and she had almost leapt from her seat in surprise. He was quite imposing and yet had a skulking feel to his manner. She could not honestly say that she hadn't feared for her life a few times as he seldom came to her when others were around.
"To whatever end I choose, Princess. And before you ask, that is for me to know."
These visits continued for some time. The snide little remarks here or there carried a great deal of weight. Tension built and finally overflowed.
"You are a foul, despicable and unscrupulous man and I would sooner have continued to sleep in enchantment than have any dealings with you." It was fair to say that she began ranting, recounting the entirety of his presence on her world as being like a boil on one's rump. Hearing his amused chuckle at her description only incensed her further and her tirade only stopped when she realized that in all the time she spoken to him, she had not gotten his name.
"It is Xaldin," he said politely when asked, "And if I may Princess, I must know: do you hate me?"
Though he was rather pleasing to the eyes, his personality left quite a bit to be desired. What sort of man sought to annoy a lady so much as this? Too angry to really think it through, she answered his question honestly.
"Yes, I do."
He laughed, a genuine, if hollow laugh, "Finally. I thought I was going to have to resort to senseless violence. It would seem my work is done here."
"Work?"
"Perhaps 'research' is a better word. I was sent here to find out if a Princess of Heart is capable of feeling hatred." He was still laughing slightly as he opened up a portal in the darkness and moved to step through it.
"You lie."
"Not entirely. But, as I said, my purposes here are for me to know." With that, he was gone.
'Why would he want to know if I could hate?'
To:fox_the_kitsune
From:lindskaba
Title: In My Head, Laughing At Me
Word Count: 740
Rating: G
Notes: Written for fox_the_kitsune, who asked for, among other things, voice-in-the-head Roxas or Namine. As I don't really believe that that's the way it works with Sora and Roxas/Kairi and Namine, I decided to sort of…put a little spin on the idea. And this was the result <3 Generally out of my usual scope, but I hope you enjoy, Fox!
He stands across from Darkness, preparing to fight.
His body is tensed near shaking, ready to move at any moment. His knees pump; his back sets; his fingers curl curl recurl the Keyblade's hilt. He licks his lips, two lines set against a face shadowed over. His blood beats in his ears.
Then Darkness strikes.
Two Keyblades crash down on his own, and he shoves them off with a grunt. Then they're moving, rushing, tearing at each other—duck, block, leap, parry, swipe. Their blades slice through the air until it cries. Darkness moves like an old friend, a familiar memory dulled by the passage of time. He can almost predict Darkness' movements, like he's been here before—but it's all he can do to keep up. It's like he's forgotten how to fight.
He fumbles.
One two Darkness' blades come smashing down, over and over. He thinks he should move his arm this way, but can't get himself to do it—and why can't he remember his spells? His mind feels like it's leaking out of his head.
A final strike, and Darkness brings him to his knees. Crying out, he looks up—and under Darkness' hood, he glimpses a shock of blond hair, and eyes so strikingly familiar he has to look twice. "Glad to see you dressed for the occasion, Sora," Darkness says.
Sora blinks—"What?"—and looks down.
He's in his boxers. White with hearts.
Darkness bursts into laughter.
Sora tries to cover himself, but Darkness is pressing down hard, laughing and laughing with eyes that gloat I win until he leaps awake, crying out, "Gimme back my clothes, damnit!"
"Sora—" Kairi is there, her hands on his face. "Sora."
"He stole my clothes!" he blurts helplessly.
"Sora," Kairi says sweetly, "you were dreaming again."
"I—…" His mouth hangs open. Looking around, he registers his room—their room, warm and quiet and safe. To his left, Riku grunts and rolls over.
Reality settles in at length, and Sora deflates with a sigh. "Man." He shoves his fist against his eye. "I hate that dream."
"I know," Kairi coos, settling back on her knees. "The one with—"
"Roxas!" Sora groans, flopping back against the mattress. "It seems so real. He's so much better than me, in the dream—and I can't remember how to fight or use magic or anything. And then…" He shudders, shifting his hips. "It's almost like he's doing it to me, like he's trying to make me feel like an idiot." He stares at the ceiling. "I feel like he's in my head, laughing at me."
"I would be, if I were him."
"Shut up, Riku." Kairi promptly pillow-smacks him.
Riku playfully kicks out, snickering, then rolls out of bed for the bathroom.
Sora watches his back, glaring. "He would, you know, if he were in my head."
"Sora, Roxas is not in your head." Kairi slides down next to him, chin on his shoulder. "He's in your heart. He's part of you again, like he always was."
"Yeah, but he was never a better fighter than me before."
The toilet flushes. "True," Riku says, shuffling back to the bed. "He was kind of a badass."
"I'm a badass!"
"Sure."
"Anyway, Sora." She can't quite cover her laugh. "Roxas isn't… It's just a dream. He's not…in your head, laughing at you."
"Even if he was in your head," Riku grunts slightly as he sits up on an elbow, his tone turning soft, "I don't think he'd be laughing at you. I think…he really wanted this, to be apart of you again. Without you, he was—"
"Nobody," the three say together.
They smile.
Sora looks between his two friends. "Okay," he says after a moment, "I guess you're right."
"Of course we are," Kairi smirks.
"You gotta man up, Sora."
"No, you."
"I'm way more man than you'll ever be."
"I may have to agree with that…"
"Kairi!"
Laughter and playful tussling overcomes the bed until the three settle against each other, all tangled up in arms and legs and sheets.
"Sweet dreams," Kairi breathes into Sora's neck, a soft tickle of air. It makes Sora's smile spread wide along his face.
"Don't let the Nobodies bite," says Riku into his hair.
Sora snorts a sleepy laugh. "G'night," he murmurs, drifting.
As he falls back to sleep, just before dreams take over, there's a little sound he's not quite sure he hears, distant and fleeting from the back of his mind: laughter.
To:lindskaba
From:tabitha_dornoc
Title: Warmth
Word Count: 969
Rating: PG
Notes: (Hee, sorry Linds! Stuck with me again! <3) Riku waiting for rescue. Sora/Riku/Kairi.
Riku wakes with a start; he hadn’t meant to fall asleep but the cold is making him drowsy. Crossing his arms, he no longer winces when his skin pulls over barely mended cuts, and he stares defiantly at the door on the other side of the room.
If he concentrates hard enough, he can feel the ripples of light shifting underneath the stone floor. He spent so long behind the doors of kingdom hearts, he can now recognise the shiver of rotating worlds and portals. The entire room is rushing between places, flickering to somewhere new with each of Riku's heartbeats. It’s clever, really. Sora may be able to open any lock, but even his key won’t work on a door that keeps moving.
Riku smiles and tastes blood. It’s been so long since they’ve had a clever enemy.
*
There’s a pattern to the world order. Riku realises this late in the second day. He leans against the stone wall and breathes in each world that flickers beneath it. The taste of sand and heat, the flash of rainforest, the breeze of salt water... the worlds start to loop and run into each, and slowly Riku forms a pattern to his prison’s rotating flight.
It’s simple since he knows what to look for. The heart of every world has its own distinct presence, its own signature. Each world a smudged fingerprint on the wide window that is the universe.
Tired, cold, and bleeding, Riku hums out his magic, trailing his own fingers across that window, connecting smudges. A blood smeared breadcrumb trail.
*
It’s dark but someone is trying to tug that away. Reveal the light by pulling on the woven shadow across his eyes. Naminé shyly smiles up at him.
“I never liked this,” she confesses, playing with the blindfold she has just tugged from his face. Her fingers are shaking, and she drops them to her lap where she clenches crayons to try and keep them still.
“We’re going to find you,” she whispers, and the promise is sharp and edged and not like her at all. He can hear Kairi in every word.
“This is a dream.”
“Yes. But have a rest. Have a dream. Stay with me.”
*
Riku wakes again, and when he sighs in frustration he can see his breath in the air. He rubs at his temples, smearing dirt and piercing the blisters on his fingers that had just begun to heal.
There’s a part of Riku (an arrogant voice in his mind that sounds like a fourteen-year-old, folded arms and cocky attitude) that tells him he shouldn't be leaving a magic trail to follow. That he shouldn't lead Sora into danger. Aren’t you being impossibly selfish? Besides, you should be able to get yourself out of this mess. You can take them.
You know nothing, he retorts to that adolescent voice. Sora will follow after Riku whether there’s a trail or not. Leading him properly means the advantage belongs to Sora. And Kairi will make sure he doesn’t do anything too foolish. Both parts of Kairi.
(We’re very close, Riku. Soon. Stay with me.)
*
His teeth almost chatter in time to the rattle of the lock on his prison’s door. Looking up, Riku pushes his matted hair from his eyes to see the person on the other side, but it does him little good. Kairi is so fast and quick that she’s in his lap before he can truly process that it’s her.
Kairi’s fingers trace over Riku’s cheeks, his jaw, under his eyes. They shake and are frantic, and feel so feverishly warm against his cold skin. When she finds blood she makes a dismayed noise inside her throat that Riku automatically tries to shush.
“Riku,” she says, somehow making an elegy out of two syllables. “They tried to use you to get at Sora. Can you imagine, Riku? Can you imagine such a thing?” She’s pressing up against him, pulling him tight to her. It’s not an embrace, but not anything so insignificant as a hold, with her heart beating so painfully fast against his chest.
He rests his own hands around her back, letting them fall to the edge of her waist, ignoring the way the cut on his shoulder hisses in protest. She makes another noise, but when she looks up at him her eyes are dry, though underlined with shadow.
Her eyes flicker to the side, and Riku’s follow.
They watch Sora, still gazing at the door they tore open. His lips are thin and tight in anger. Riku’s never seen the line of Sora’s jaw so prominent, skin stretched and aching over clenched bone. His friend is breathing quickly through his nose and his lungs still seem to be gasping for breath. Sora never did like having his friends used against him. Riku idly wonders what, if anything, is left of his captors.
“Must be getting tired of always looking for me, eh?” Riku asks, tightening his hands on Kairi’s back, looking up and over at Sora. In his mind he remembers a younger Sora, fresh and green to adventure, clinging to Riku’s knees and I looked everywhere for you. This Sora just blinks at him, exhales sharply at his words, and slowly unclenches his body. His nonchalant shrug seems forced, but his smile is genuine.
“Well, there are easier ways to play hard-to-get, Riku. S’all I’m saying.” Sora finally steps close to Riku, and his hands aren’t quite steady as they brush across Kairi’s shoulder. He tugs on her shirt so she can stand, giving Riku room to stand himself.
“Come on,” Sora says, finally grinning properly, extending a hand. (We’ll go together.) “Just like old times.” Riku reaches up and places his palm in Sora’s.
And then, finally, he feels warm.
To:tabitha_dornoc
From:crimsoncookie
title: a tale for her
word count: 349
rating: pg
notes: happy christmas, eiee. :3 i love you. ♥
Once upon a time.
Once upon a time, she says, there was a little girl who was looking for her best friend. All right, Sora, two friends. Two boys. Only a witch wanted to keep her for herself, because the girl was so pretty and sweet, like me. Hey, stop laughing! And the witch put all the roses to sleep, because they'd remind the girl of the boys. So the girl forgot everything, and slept in the witch's garden...
His boots crunch as he walks. Her arms are draped around his shoulders, chest warm against his back. Her voice is silent.
Let her sleep, he tells himself. She doesn't have to be awake. She's alive.
She slides in the sling of his arms; he stops, lets her body slip to the snow. Her skin is white, hair red, eyes glassy-blue and staring open straight at him.
...then they'd sing more sweetly, he says. She's looking at him, biting her lip – his story hangs unfinished. Her small hands clutch at his.
Ew, Sora says, and the spell is lifted. But she tells him later: if they can't see, I'll be their light. Then they won't be all alone.
His fingers hover over her eyes. He wonders if her lips would part, if she'd begin to sing. He traces cheekbones, lashes, the soft hollows of her face.
The ground is cold as he sits beside her, watches her chest rise and fall. She won't wake with a kiss. He's been those stories. He knows.
The snow hides his footprints. A faint few marks remain, steps of darkness through the storm. Almost as fleeting as a trail of–
Breadcrumbs, he says, and Sora stops mid-sentence. Didn't they have pebbles or something? Sticks? What a waste.
Maybe they didn't want to find their way home. Her voice is bright and sad. Maybe they thought they weren't wanted.
She's too fragile in his arms, shuddering beneath each breath, cheeks wet. She's not rose, not bird, not child.
She's Kairi, and fairytales aren't enough.
"Once upon a time." His voice breaks. "Once upon a time."
To:nirvana_falling
From:kashuarashi
It was unseasonably cold – which was, perhaps, an odd thing to say about winter, but there you have it. Winter in the Destiny Isles was chilly at best, whipped by winds and rainstorms, but easily warded off by the shelter of four walls, another layer of clothes, and maybe a space heater.
This year, it was cold.
Riku frowned a little and tugged the blankets further up under his chin. The frown turned to a smile as he felt Kari’s curves press against his back, cuddling closer for warmth – and then a dismayed yelp as she shoved the frozen tip of her nose behind his ear.
“Huh –wha- heartless where?” Sora started upright, robbing Riku of both his body heat and the blankets, much to the other boy’s dismay.
“No heartless,” Riku informed him, grasping desperately for the blankets. “Just Kairi’s cold nose.”
Blue eyes blinked, then the cold seemed to penetrate Sora’s consciousness and he flopped back down, pulling the blankets over them and snuggling back up against Riku’s chest. It was a sign of how cold it really was that – given this was Christmas morning, after all – he didn’t bound completely out of bed and start whining about opening presents. “Oh. Is that all?”
“Is that all? You try having a cold nose shoved against your shoulder.”
“My nose isn’t that cold.” Kairi protested, sleepy, burying her face in Riku’s hair.
“Yes it is!”
“It can’t be colder than anything else, Riku.” Sora countered, sticking his hands in the pockets of the other boy’s flannel pajamas – a surprise present from Goofy and Donald. At first the warm sleepwear had seemed ridiculous and the three teenagers had accepted them with baffled smiles. Now they were most welcome.
“That’s not saying much.” The pale haired boy grumbled, warming his own cold nose in Sora’s hair. “Honestly, it’s never this cold.”
“Or this quiet.” Kairi shivered and wrapped an arm around both of their waists. “I can’t hear the wind at all. It’s like the rest of the world drifted away and it’s just us.”
Sora went rigid in Riku’s arms. “You…don’t think…do you?”
Riku blinked in confusion as the other boy pulled back, blue eyes wide. “I don’t think what?”
“That it’s gone. It’s just us.” Without waiting for the pale-haired boy to answer, Sora squirmed free from the arms holding him, threw back the covers, and bounded from the bed. Behind him, Riku and Kairi protested loudly as the cold air rushed in to the void and the covers fell akimbo, leaving them mostly exposed. Bare feet pounded hard enough that the carpet couldn’t muffle them as Sora rushed to the window and peered out. “No way…”
“What?” Riku asked, pulling the covers up to his shoulders and tucking them in. Kairi clung to his back for warmth. “It’s not really gone, is it?” He should, perhaps, have been more concerned, but he was too cold and cranky.
“It’s snowing!”
Somewhere outside a dog howled in protest of the assault on its eardrums.
“You’re kidding!” Kairi didn’t exactly sit up, but she did lift her head enough to meet Sora’s excited eyes over the curve of Riku’s head.
“No, come look! It’s snowing!” Sora bounded back over to the bed and tried to tug Riku’s arm out from the covers. “And-” his eyes doubled in size as his brain woke up and unfroze enough to realize – “It’s Christmas! Santa brought us snow for Christmas! This is the best thing ever!” He half ran back to the window, then stopped and took a few steps back toward the bed, torn between staring at the falling impossibility and getting his friends up. “We can have a snowball fight! Build snow men! A snow fort!”
“I’m not building anything until I have a warm room to come back to.” Riku scowled and buried himself deeper in the blankets. “You want me up, try turning on the heater doofus.”
Sora blinked. Twice. “Oh. Yeah, huh?” He laughed and scratched his head sheepishly, then trotted over to turn on the space heater dutifully placed in one corner of the bedroom. Then, job complete, he started bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet eagerly. “There! Come on guys, get up! After we play in the snow, we can open presents!”
With a sigh, Riku contemplated explaining that the room didn’t instantly heat up the second you turned the heater on. Normally Sora knew this, but apparently excitement had made him impervious to the cold. Stretching a little, Riku tried to think up a distraction that would keep them busy until the room was warm. “You know, I don’t think the snow was Santa’s real present to us.”
“Huh?” Sora stopped mid-bounce, expression shifting from excited to curious. “What else would it be?”
Riku freed a hand from the covers and crooked a finger in the cold air, smirking. “Come here and I’ll whisper it in your ear.”
Trusting as a puppy, Sora padded over to the bed and leaned down. Quick as he could, Riku flipped back the covers, reached out, and pulled the other boy back into bed, tossing the covers over them again before Sora had even fully landed. Sora yelped in surprise, then yelped again as Riku’s hand worked its way under the waistband of his pajamas.
“I think,” Riku purred, rubbing his nose against Sora’s ear, “that Santa wanted to give us an excuse to stay in bed longer.”
Behind them, Kairi laughed.
“I…but…” Sora squirmed half-heartedly, “What about opening our presents from each other?”
“I think Kairi and I can open ours right now.”
To:kashuarashi
From:str1
Title: Catching Zs
Word Count: 936
Rating: PG-13
"Xigbar, how much longer are we going to be out here?"
"Until we find him. Like the other thousand times you asked."
Demyx groaned and shifted his feet on the cracked dirt. "But we've been scouring this desert for days. There's nothing around here but vultures and that weird little cactus that ran off the moment it saw us."
"Your point, Demyx?"
"My point is that we're down to the vultures."
"It is a good point, Xigbar."
"See? Even Luxord agrees with me."
"Shut up, Demyx."
Xigbar wiped a drop of sweat from his eyepatch and flicked it away. He hated to admit it, but Demyx was right. They had followed their target across seven worlds without success; an appalling mark on his track record, really. "If the tip-off we got this morning is good, Sephiroth has to be somewhere around here."
"But why the middle of a desert?" Demyx asked.
"How the hell should I know, you twerp?"
Luxord raised his hand. "Wait. Do you two hear something?"
Xigbar fell silent, listening. He heard the faint sound of clashing metal. "A sword fight?"
"I think it's coming from over that hill," Demyx said. "Maybe it's him?"
II, IX, and X ran to the top of the nearby slope and peered down. At the bottom of the ravine, they saw their target – a swordsman with long silver hair and one wing, currently engaged in a duel with a man dressed in black. "It's him," Luxord said. "But who's the other one?"
"Doesn't matter," said Xigbar. "While Sephiroth is busy, we can—"
Xigbar's words were cut short as Sephiroth's opponent lunged forward and struck with surprising speed. Looking confused, Sephiroth glanced down at himself before collapsing into the dirt.
"—What the hell just happened?"
"…Sephiroth lost," Luxord said.
Demyx took a step forward. "Well, we can grab him now."
"Hold on." Xigbar grabbed him by the shoulder. "We're here to take Sephiroth's heart and his Nobody, right?"
"Well, yeah."
"But he was just defeated by someone - someone tougher, right? It'd be better to take this stranger's heart instead."
"It's good odds," Luxord said. "There's three of us and one of him."
"If you guys say so."
"Right," Xigbar said. "You go first."
Demyx blinked. "What? I thought we were attacking together."
"We are. If you distract him with your clones, I snipe him from up here, and Luxord rushes him, then this should end quickly and we'll be able to leave this barren shithole."
"Are you sure this is gonna work?"
"Would you rather we all charge down the hill like a bunch of idiots? Shut up and get to work before we lose our chance."
With a shove from Luxord, Demyx nearly tumbled as he took his first steps down the ledge. Readying his sitar, he began strumming, bringing form to some watery clones from the slight traces of moisture in the air. Behind him, Luxord shuffled a deck of cards and readied himself for a charge. Xigbar checked his guns and prepared to fire.
The sound of Demyx's music drew the swordsman's attention, and, as he looked up towards the source, the three Organization members saw the black mask that had been hidden by the flat brim of his hat. Luxord smirked. "An interesting choice."
"Should just make him fit right in with the rest of us," Xigbar said. "When Demyx gets—"
The masked man lunged forward and cut through the first wave of clones with a single sword stroke. After a second slash, he stood face to face with Demyx, who tried to defend himself from a quick barrage of slashes before taking a punch to the jaw, sending him to the dirt.
Xigbar scowled. "Forget that. Go get—"
In a blink, the man in the mask appeared next to Luxord, dispatching him in a similarly efficient fashion. As the gambler fell to the ground, Xigbar rolled to his feet and raised his guns when a quick jolt of blade against barrel forced them from his hands.
Xigbar glanced at his sore fingers and then up at the swordsman, who smiled back at him. "This certainly has been a day for unusual opponents. However, I have an appointment. If you'll excuse me."
Feeling the faintest breeze against his clothes, Xigbar caught a glimpse of a fist. The next thing he knew, he found himself lying on his back. Opening his one eye, he stared right into Demyx's face as the ninth member stood beside him with a foot raised, ready to deliver a kick.
"What. The hell. Are you doing?"
"Well, I thought you could use some help waking up."
"It didn't look like it to me," Luxord murmured, before uncrossing his arms from his chest. The movement revealed a letter "Z" slashed into the fabric of his robe.
"Luxord, where did you get that?"
"That man in black gave it to me – a parting gift, I'm sure. And the same for you and Demyx."
Xigbar looked down at his chest. Sure enough, his robe had been slashed three times, forming a Z. Putting a disgusted hand to his face, he looked down the ravine. "Where's Sephiroth?"
"Already gone when we woke up," Demyx said. "I couldn't find a trace of him anywhere."
"Fine. Just fine," Xigbar said. "Let's go."
"We're not going to keep looking for him, are we?" Demyx asked.
"No. We're heading back. I've had enough of this. And Demyx?"
"Yeah?"
"If you ever try to kick me again, I'll bury you and your ridiculous haircut in the sand."
"Would you prefer a kiss?"
"Shut up."
singwithinFrom:
sandy_rainTitle: Pay Off
Rating: G
Characters: Axel, Aerith
Word Count: 236
“You’re just setting yourself up to fail, y’know.”
She stops walking, feeling a smile crawl onto her lips, then stops herself and tries to frown.
“I can see that. You’re not very good at frowning at all.”
Again, she smiles. He knows her too well for someone who is mostly a stranger.
Aerith turns around, a basket of flowers in her arms, then looks him straight in the eyes (green, like hers, the same type of playfulness in them too).
“Neither are you, Axel,” comes out of her lips, playful and cheery in the dark alley.
Bright-red hair slips out of the shadows, gloved hands already lifting into the air in a “eh, whatever” position. He’s moving closer to her, the same lazy walk as always.
“Don’t avoid the question, Miss Flowers.”
All of the smiles drop, and she can feel herself being exhausted suddenly, like the worlds and truths are just too much to bear.
“Maybe so,” she replies, still staring straight at him, “but I’ll do what I can. Just like you.”
He’s surprised, she can see, and he goes back to his smiles and wise-cracks, jokes and playfulness.
Axel opens up a portal and starts walking back into it, waving as he says, “Yeah? Well, we’ll see if it pays off.”
She’s still staring after him, even after he’s gone, until the 10 o’ clock bell rings, and she goes back to walking.
Title: Anyone you want
Rating: G
Characters: Destiny Island kids
Word Count: 165
Selphie felt like changes were needed.
The adults wouldn’t listen and never remembered, but she and Wakka and Tidus eventually did. Starting when Kairi disappeared, completely restored when she came back (with, now she remembered, Sora and Riku).
Those three were heroes and villains and princesses. They saved the world and saved the worlds. And again. She had a gut feeling that they would again too.
But Destiny Island was not the home for super heroes and damsels in distress. You didn’t go there to become amazing.
“I could be a super hero,” she says quietly to Wakka and Tidus, lying down on the seashore of the little island, “but I could be just me too.”
“Maybe I could save the world,” Tidus starts, staring up at the sky, “but I’d rather stay here. I bet there’s no other place with blitzball.”
“We could be anything,” Wakka whispers, looking at the sea, “or anyone. Super hero, normal people, whatever, man.”
“We could be something more.”
To:
sandy_rainFrom:
osmandiasTitle: N/A
Recipient: sandy_rain
Characters: Donald, Goofy, hints of Max
Theme: General
Rating: General
Words: 770
Dear Minnie,
Whelp, it's been over a year since I've been gone from Disney Castle. There isn't anything new to report about the Darkness except that it's gone down since Sora and I closed the door. The young boy I'm travelling with, Riku, is right now staying with DiZ. I've been shadowing the Organization hoping to find a weak spot to infiltrate. I hope that…
"…you keep looking after yourself and that the nephews are doing well. Nobody better touch my stuff while I'm away." Donald quacked to himself, a sign that he was deep in thought, with pen in one hand and the letter on the flat hood of the Gummi ship. The muffled roar of space engines and the smell of fuel and greasy food filled the air. It wasn't the greatest of places to compose a letter, let alone think of how to write it, but it was the only place Donald had to use.
"Whatcha doing, Donald?" Goofy, finished with filling up the ship's energy cubes, hovered over the magician's shoulder. The trio, under Sora's suggestion, had stopped at a small diner located (or so the billboard said) on the other side of the galaxy. Eating a cooked and greasy meal was more appetizing than looking through the dry rations that wee stored for interplanetary flight.
"Writing Daisy a letter." Donald gave his friend a sheepish grin. "I didn't write one to her when we left to find the King. An' I promised her I would write when I had the chance." There was no reason why he shouldn't have sent a letter to Daisy. She hadn't let Donald hear the end of it after their year-long absence; just because he was off saving worlds didn't mean he couldn't write her a note between Gummi ship pit stops.
That was the polite way she put her argument to him. Donald remembered saying anything possible to please her and have the lecture stop.
"Goofy," the mage looked over his shoulder at his larger friend, "how does 'Love from Donald, Toots' sound as a closing line?"
Startled by the question, and looking away from a Gummi truck that was belching exhaust into the air, Goofy furrowed his brow. "Gwarsh Donald, Daisy is more than that to you. If you're gonna marry her you can't call her 'toots'. You should say 'sweetheart' or 'darling', maybe 'my beloved' for--" The knight stopped ticking options off on his fingers when he realized Donald wasn't listening.
Goofy leaned back against the ship, crossed lanky arms over a thin chest, and looked up at the stars through the haze of exhaust and other pollutants. This diner had seen better days, but Goofy remembered a vacation he had made with his family along this route. The same diner and an old reliable Gummi ship that had carried too many camping supplies. That had been a good vacation; fishing, seeing what could have been a Bigfoot, eating canned beans, teaching Max to start a fire.
Max.
Donald read his letter over the sound of a ship's coughing engine. "Dear Daisy, not much to say. We're at a diner right now getting some real food. The Gummi ship doesn't have much. This time I'll send you flowers, or I can get something nice for you in Agrabah." Donald quaked devilishly at the thoughts of the genie's treasure. I hope you keep looking after yourself and that the nephews are doing well. Nobody better touch my stuff while I'm away. Love, Donald."
Folding the letter into a white envelope, he spied around for one of the moogles that the group had seen earlier. Finding the small furball sitting near the soda machines, accepting peoples' packages that needed delivery, Donald was about to walk over until Goofy stopped him.
"Hey Donald, do you got a moment? I need to borrow some paper and a letter."
Donald asked the inevitable question when he had returned from their ship with the items. "What's it for Goofy?"
"I gotta make a letter myself. For my son, Maxie. He's got to know his father's going to be going away again." Hunching over the hood of the ship, Goofy chewed the pen's tip and thought about what he could say. It had to be understanding. It had to be a promise to Max that he would come back. He would be coming home and when he did, maybe they could take another vacation again. This time wherever Max wanted to go, even if it was to a rock concert.
"Dear Max, I'm sorry I can't give a next post of address…"
To:
osmandiasFrom:
fox_the_kitsuneRecipient:
osmandiasTitle: Untitled (because I suck =/)
Characters: Xaldin, Aurora
Word Count: 558
"Do you really think your Prince came here looking for love?"
This hooded intruder was beginning to make quite the pest of himself. He seemed amused at any biting responses she had for his prodding questions and remarks. More so, he seemed especially interested in her lack of an answer for this latest question. How could she have an answer when she'd never really thought of it? She had never asked Phillip why he'd come.
"I do not believe that is any of your concern," was her best answer.
"Have I angered you?" His tone was so infuriatingly suave and possessed just a touch of feigned innocence.
"Can you not tell that you have?" She was trying to get some spinning done now that spinning wheels were no longer a threat.
"It's really quite simple," he said softly, "If you know how to read people."
"And you do."
"Of course." He came and went as he pleased in the same manner as the Heartless, though he was quite obviously not a Heartless. As he had caused no harm, yet, the guards had given up trying to catch him. They were not aware of his whisperings to their beloved Princess.
"To what end?"
Within the space of a heartbeat, he was closer than she cared for and she had almost leapt from her seat in surprise. He was quite imposing and yet had a skulking feel to his manner. She could not honestly say that she hadn't feared for her life a few times as he seldom came to her when others were around.
"To whatever end I choose, Princess. And before you ask, that is for me to know."
These visits continued for some time. The snide little remarks here or there carried a great deal of weight. Tension built and finally overflowed.
"You are a foul, despicable and unscrupulous man and I would sooner have continued to sleep in enchantment than have any dealings with you." It was fair to say that she began ranting, recounting the entirety of his presence on her world as being like a boil on one's rump. Hearing his amused chuckle at her description only incensed her further and her tirade only stopped when she realized that in all the time she spoken to him, she had not gotten his name.
"It is Xaldin," he said politely when asked, "And if I may Princess, I must know: do you hate me?"
Though he was rather pleasing to the eyes, his personality left quite a bit to be desired. What sort of man sought to annoy a lady so much as this? Too angry to really think it through, she answered his question honestly.
"Yes, I do."
He laughed, a genuine, if hollow laugh, "Finally. I thought I was going to have to resort to senseless violence. It would seem my work is done here."
"Work?"
"Perhaps 'research' is a better word. I was sent here to find out if a Princess of Heart is capable of feeling hatred." He was still laughing slightly as he opened up a portal in the darkness and moved to step through it.
"You lie."
"Not entirely. But, as I said, my purposes here are for me to know." With that, he was gone.
'Why would he want to know if I could hate?'
To:
fox_the_kitsuneFrom:
lindskabaTitle: In My Head, Laughing At Me
Word Count: 740
Rating: G
Notes: Written for fox_the_kitsune, who asked for, among other things, voice-in-the-head Roxas or Namine. As I don't really believe that that's the way it works with Sora and Roxas/Kairi and Namine, I decided to sort of…put a little spin on the idea. And this was the result <3 Generally out of my usual scope, but I hope you enjoy, Fox!
He stands across from Darkness, preparing to fight.
His body is tensed near shaking, ready to move at any moment. His knees pump; his back sets; his fingers curl curl recurl the Keyblade's hilt. He licks his lips, two lines set against a face shadowed over. His blood beats in his ears.
Then Darkness strikes.
Two Keyblades crash down on his own, and he shoves them off with a grunt. Then they're moving, rushing, tearing at each other—duck, block, leap, parry, swipe. Their blades slice through the air until it cries. Darkness moves like an old friend, a familiar memory dulled by the passage of time. He can almost predict Darkness' movements, like he's been here before—but it's all he can do to keep up. It's like he's forgotten how to fight.
He fumbles.
One two Darkness' blades come smashing down, over and over. He thinks he should move his arm this way, but can't get himself to do it—and why can't he remember his spells? His mind feels like it's leaking out of his head.
A final strike, and Darkness brings him to his knees. Crying out, he looks up—and under Darkness' hood, he glimpses a shock of blond hair, and eyes so strikingly familiar he has to look twice. "Glad to see you dressed for the occasion, Sora," Darkness says.
Sora blinks—"What?"—and looks down.
He's in his boxers. White with hearts.
Darkness bursts into laughter.
Sora tries to cover himself, but Darkness is pressing down hard, laughing and laughing with eyes that gloat I win until he leaps awake, crying out, "Gimme back my clothes, damnit!"
"Sora—" Kairi is there, her hands on his face. "Sora."
"He stole my clothes!" he blurts helplessly.
"Sora," Kairi says sweetly, "you were dreaming again."
"I—…" His mouth hangs open. Looking around, he registers his room—their room, warm and quiet and safe. To his left, Riku grunts and rolls over.
Reality settles in at length, and Sora deflates with a sigh. "Man." He shoves his fist against his eye. "I hate that dream."
"I know," Kairi coos, settling back on her knees. "The one with—"
"Roxas!" Sora groans, flopping back against the mattress. "It seems so real. He's so much better than me, in the dream—and I can't remember how to fight or use magic or anything. And then…" He shudders, shifting his hips. "It's almost like he's doing it to me, like he's trying to make me feel like an idiot." He stares at the ceiling. "I feel like he's in my head, laughing at me."
"I would be, if I were him."
"Shut up, Riku." Kairi promptly pillow-smacks him.
Riku playfully kicks out, snickering, then rolls out of bed for the bathroom.
Sora watches his back, glaring. "He would, you know, if he were in my head."
"Sora, Roxas is not in your head." Kairi slides down next to him, chin on his shoulder. "He's in your heart. He's part of you again, like he always was."
"Yeah, but he was never a better fighter than me before."
The toilet flushes. "True," Riku says, shuffling back to the bed. "He was kind of a badass."
"I'm a badass!"
"Sure."
"Anyway, Sora." She can't quite cover her laugh. "Roxas isn't… It's just a dream. He's not…in your head, laughing at you."
"Even if he was in your head," Riku grunts slightly as he sits up on an elbow, his tone turning soft, "I don't think he'd be laughing at you. I think…he really wanted this, to be apart of you again. Without you, he was—"
"Nobody," the three say together.
They smile.
Sora looks between his two friends. "Okay," he says after a moment, "I guess you're right."
"Of course we are," Kairi smirks.
"You gotta man up, Sora."
"No, you."
"I'm way more man than you'll ever be."
"I may have to agree with that…"
"Kairi!"
Laughter and playful tussling overcomes the bed until the three settle against each other, all tangled up in arms and legs and sheets.
"Sweet dreams," Kairi breathes into Sora's neck, a soft tickle of air. It makes Sora's smile spread wide along his face.
"Don't let the Nobodies bite," says Riku into his hair.
Sora snorts a sleepy laugh. "G'night," he murmurs, drifting.
As he falls back to sleep, just before dreams take over, there's a little sound he's not quite sure he hears, distant and fleeting from the back of his mind: laughter.
To:
lindskabaFrom:
tabitha_dornocTitle: Warmth
Word Count: 969
Rating: PG
Notes: (Hee, sorry Linds! Stuck with me again! <3) Riku waiting for rescue. Sora/Riku/Kairi.
Riku wakes with a start; he hadn’t meant to fall asleep but the cold is making him drowsy. Crossing his arms, he no longer winces when his skin pulls over barely mended cuts, and he stares defiantly at the door on the other side of the room.
If he concentrates hard enough, he can feel the ripples of light shifting underneath the stone floor. He spent so long behind the doors of kingdom hearts, he can now recognise the shiver of rotating worlds and portals. The entire room is rushing between places, flickering to somewhere new with each of Riku's heartbeats. It’s clever, really. Sora may be able to open any lock, but even his key won’t work on a door that keeps moving.
Riku smiles and tastes blood. It’s been so long since they’ve had a clever enemy.
*
There’s a pattern to the world order. Riku realises this late in the second day. He leans against the stone wall and breathes in each world that flickers beneath it. The taste of sand and heat, the flash of rainforest, the breeze of salt water... the worlds start to loop and run into each, and slowly Riku forms a pattern to his prison’s rotating flight.
It’s simple since he knows what to look for. The heart of every world has its own distinct presence, its own signature. Each world a smudged fingerprint on the wide window that is the universe.
Tired, cold, and bleeding, Riku hums out his magic, trailing his own fingers across that window, connecting smudges. A blood smeared breadcrumb trail.
*
It’s dark but someone is trying to tug that away. Reveal the light by pulling on the woven shadow across his eyes. Naminé shyly smiles up at him.
“I never liked this,” she confesses, playing with the blindfold she has just tugged from his face. Her fingers are shaking, and she drops them to her lap where she clenches crayons to try and keep them still.
“We’re going to find you,” she whispers, and the promise is sharp and edged and not like her at all. He can hear Kairi in every word.
“This is a dream.”
“Yes. But have a rest. Have a dream. Stay with me.”
*
Riku wakes again, and when he sighs in frustration he can see his breath in the air. He rubs at his temples, smearing dirt and piercing the blisters on his fingers that had just begun to heal.
There’s a part of Riku (an arrogant voice in his mind that sounds like a fourteen-year-old, folded arms and cocky attitude) that tells him he shouldn't be leaving a magic trail to follow. That he shouldn't lead Sora into danger. Aren’t you being impossibly selfish? Besides, you should be able to get yourself out of this mess. You can take them.
You know nothing, he retorts to that adolescent voice. Sora will follow after Riku whether there’s a trail or not. Leading him properly means the advantage belongs to Sora. And Kairi will make sure he doesn’t do anything too foolish. Both parts of Kairi.
(We’re very close, Riku. Soon. Stay with me.)
*
His teeth almost chatter in time to the rattle of the lock on his prison’s door. Looking up, Riku pushes his matted hair from his eyes to see the person on the other side, but it does him little good. Kairi is so fast and quick that she’s in his lap before he can truly process that it’s her.
Kairi’s fingers trace over Riku’s cheeks, his jaw, under his eyes. They shake and are frantic, and feel so feverishly warm against his cold skin. When she finds blood she makes a dismayed noise inside her throat that Riku automatically tries to shush.
“Riku,” she says, somehow making an elegy out of two syllables. “They tried to use you to get at Sora. Can you imagine, Riku? Can you imagine such a thing?” She’s pressing up against him, pulling him tight to her. It’s not an embrace, but not anything so insignificant as a hold, with her heart beating so painfully fast against his chest.
He rests his own hands around her back, letting them fall to the edge of her waist, ignoring the way the cut on his shoulder hisses in protest. She makes another noise, but when she looks up at him her eyes are dry, though underlined with shadow.
Her eyes flicker to the side, and Riku’s follow.
They watch Sora, still gazing at the door they tore open. His lips are thin and tight in anger. Riku’s never seen the line of Sora’s jaw so prominent, skin stretched and aching over clenched bone. His friend is breathing quickly through his nose and his lungs still seem to be gasping for breath. Sora never did like having his friends used against him. Riku idly wonders what, if anything, is left of his captors.
“Must be getting tired of always looking for me, eh?” Riku asks, tightening his hands on Kairi’s back, looking up and over at Sora. In his mind he remembers a younger Sora, fresh and green to adventure, clinging to Riku’s knees and I looked everywhere for you. This Sora just blinks at him, exhales sharply at his words, and slowly unclenches his body. His nonchalant shrug seems forced, but his smile is genuine.
“Well, there are easier ways to play hard-to-get, Riku. S’all I’m saying.” Sora finally steps close to Riku, and his hands aren’t quite steady as they brush across Kairi’s shoulder. He tugs on her shirt so she can stand, giving Riku room to stand himself.
“Come on,” Sora says, finally grinning properly, extending a hand. (We’ll go together.) “Just like old times.” Riku reaches up and places his palm in Sora’s.
And then, finally, he feels warm.
To:
tabitha_dornocFrom:
crimsoncookietitle: a tale for her
word count: 349
rating: pg
notes: happy christmas, eiee. :3 i love you. ♥
Once upon a time.
Once upon a time, she says, there was a little girl who was looking for her best friend. All right, Sora, two friends. Two boys. Only a witch wanted to keep her for herself, because the girl was so pretty and sweet, like me. Hey, stop laughing! And the witch put all the roses to sleep, because they'd remind the girl of the boys. So the girl forgot everything, and slept in the witch's garden...
His boots crunch as he walks. Her arms are draped around his shoulders, chest warm against his back. Her voice is silent.
Let her sleep, he tells himself. She doesn't have to be awake. She's alive.
She slides in the sling of his arms; he stops, lets her body slip to the snow. Her skin is white, hair red, eyes glassy-blue and staring open straight at him.
...then they'd sing more sweetly, he says. She's looking at him, biting her lip – his story hangs unfinished. Her small hands clutch at his.
Ew, Sora says, and the spell is lifted. But she tells him later: if they can't see, I'll be their light. Then they won't be all alone.
His fingers hover over her eyes. He wonders if her lips would part, if she'd begin to sing. He traces cheekbones, lashes, the soft hollows of her face.
The ground is cold as he sits beside her, watches her chest rise and fall. She won't wake with a kiss. He's been those stories. He knows.
The snow hides his footprints. A faint few marks remain, steps of darkness through the storm. Almost as fleeting as a trail of–
Breadcrumbs, he says, and Sora stops mid-sentence. Didn't they have pebbles or something? Sticks? What a waste.
Maybe they didn't want to find their way home. Her voice is bright and sad. Maybe they thought they weren't wanted.
She's too fragile in his arms, shuddering beneath each breath, cheeks wet. She's not rose, not bird, not child.
She's Kairi, and fairytales aren't enough.
"Once upon a time." His voice breaks. "Once upon a time."
To:
nirvana_fallingFrom:
kashuarashiIt was unseasonably cold – which was, perhaps, an odd thing to say about winter, but there you have it. Winter in the Destiny Isles was chilly at best, whipped by winds and rainstorms, but easily warded off by the shelter of four walls, another layer of clothes, and maybe a space heater.
This year, it was cold.
Riku frowned a little and tugged the blankets further up under his chin. The frown turned to a smile as he felt Kari’s curves press against his back, cuddling closer for warmth – and then a dismayed yelp as she shoved the frozen tip of her nose behind his ear.
“Huh –wha- heartless where?” Sora started upright, robbing Riku of both his body heat and the blankets, much to the other boy’s dismay.
“No heartless,” Riku informed him, grasping desperately for the blankets. “Just Kairi’s cold nose.”
Blue eyes blinked, then the cold seemed to penetrate Sora’s consciousness and he flopped back down, pulling the blankets over them and snuggling back up against Riku’s chest. It was a sign of how cold it really was that – given this was Christmas morning, after all – he didn’t bound completely out of bed and start whining about opening presents. “Oh. Is that all?”
“Is that all? You try having a cold nose shoved against your shoulder.”
“My nose isn’t that cold.” Kairi protested, sleepy, burying her face in Riku’s hair.
“Yes it is!”
“It can’t be colder than anything else, Riku.” Sora countered, sticking his hands in the pockets of the other boy’s flannel pajamas – a surprise present from Goofy and Donald. At first the warm sleepwear had seemed ridiculous and the three teenagers had accepted them with baffled smiles. Now they were most welcome.
“That’s not saying much.” The pale haired boy grumbled, warming his own cold nose in Sora’s hair. “Honestly, it’s never this cold.”
“Or this quiet.” Kairi shivered and wrapped an arm around both of their waists. “I can’t hear the wind at all. It’s like the rest of the world drifted away and it’s just us.”
Sora went rigid in Riku’s arms. “You…don’t think…do you?”
Riku blinked in confusion as the other boy pulled back, blue eyes wide. “I don’t think what?”
“That it’s gone. It’s just us.” Without waiting for the pale-haired boy to answer, Sora squirmed free from the arms holding him, threw back the covers, and bounded from the bed. Behind him, Riku and Kairi protested loudly as the cold air rushed in to the void and the covers fell akimbo, leaving them mostly exposed. Bare feet pounded hard enough that the carpet couldn’t muffle them as Sora rushed to the window and peered out. “No way…”
“What?” Riku asked, pulling the covers up to his shoulders and tucking them in. Kairi clung to his back for warmth. “It’s not really gone, is it?” He should, perhaps, have been more concerned, but he was too cold and cranky.
“It’s snowing!”
Somewhere outside a dog howled in protest of the assault on its eardrums.
“You’re kidding!” Kairi didn’t exactly sit up, but she did lift her head enough to meet Sora’s excited eyes over the curve of Riku’s head.
“No, come look! It’s snowing!” Sora bounded back over to the bed and tried to tug Riku’s arm out from the covers. “And-” his eyes doubled in size as his brain woke up and unfroze enough to realize – “It’s Christmas! Santa brought us snow for Christmas! This is the best thing ever!” He half ran back to the window, then stopped and took a few steps back toward the bed, torn between staring at the falling impossibility and getting his friends up. “We can have a snowball fight! Build snow men! A snow fort!”
“I’m not building anything until I have a warm room to come back to.” Riku scowled and buried himself deeper in the blankets. “You want me up, try turning on the heater doofus.”
Sora blinked. Twice. “Oh. Yeah, huh?” He laughed and scratched his head sheepishly, then trotted over to turn on the space heater dutifully placed in one corner of the bedroom. Then, job complete, he started bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet eagerly. “There! Come on guys, get up! After we play in the snow, we can open presents!”
With a sigh, Riku contemplated explaining that the room didn’t instantly heat up the second you turned the heater on. Normally Sora knew this, but apparently excitement had made him impervious to the cold. Stretching a little, Riku tried to think up a distraction that would keep them busy until the room was warm. “You know, I don’t think the snow was Santa’s real present to us.”
“Huh?” Sora stopped mid-bounce, expression shifting from excited to curious. “What else would it be?”
Riku freed a hand from the covers and crooked a finger in the cold air, smirking. “Come here and I’ll whisper it in your ear.”
Trusting as a puppy, Sora padded over to the bed and leaned down. Quick as he could, Riku flipped back the covers, reached out, and pulled the other boy back into bed, tossing the covers over them again before Sora had even fully landed. Sora yelped in surprise, then yelped again as Riku’s hand worked its way under the waistband of his pajamas.
“I think,” Riku purred, rubbing his nose against Sora’s ear, “that Santa wanted to give us an excuse to stay in bed longer.”
Behind them, Kairi laughed.
“I…but…” Sora squirmed half-heartedly, “What about opening our presents from each other?”
“I think Kairi and I can open ours right now.”
To:
kashuarashiFrom:
str1Title: Catching Zs
Word Count: 936
Rating: PG-13
"Xigbar, how much longer are we going to be out here?"
"Until we find him. Like the other thousand times you asked."
Demyx groaned and shifted his feet on the cracked dirt. "But we've been scouring this desert for days. There's nothing around here but vultures and that weird little cactus that ran off the moment it saw us."
"Your point, Demyx?"
"My point is that we're down to the vultures."
"It is a good point, Xigbar."
"See? Even Luxord agrees with me."
"Shut up, Demyx."
Xigbar wiped a drop of sweat from his eyepatch and flicked it away. He hated to admit it, but Demyx was right. They had followed their target across seven worlds without success; an appalling mark on his track record, really. "If the tip-off we got this morning is good, Sephiroth has to be somewhere around here."
"But why the middle of a desert?" Demyx asked.
"How the hell should I know, you twerp?"
Luxord raised his hand. "Wait. Do you two hear something?"
Xigbar fell silent, listening. He heard the faint sound of clashing metal. "A sword fight?"
"I think it's coming from over that hill," Demyx said. "Maybe it's him?"
II, IX, and X ran to the top of the nearby slope and peered down. At the bottom of the ravine, they saw their target – a swordsman with long silver hair and one wing, currently engaged in a duel with a man dressed in black. "It's him," Luxord said. "But who's the other one?"
"Doesn't matter," said Xigbar. "While Sephiroth is busy, we can—"
Xigbar's words were cut short as Sephiroth's opponent lunged forward and struck with surprising speed. Looking confused, Sephiroth glanced down at himself before collapsing into the dirt.
"—What the hell just happened?"
"…Sephiroth lost," Luxord said.
Demyx took a step forward. "Well, we can grab him now."
"Hold on." Xigbar grabbed him by the shoulder. "We're here to take Sephiroth's heart and his Nobody, right?"
"Well, yeah."
"But he was just defeated by someone - someone tougher, right? It'd be better to take this stranger's heart instead."
"It's good odds," Luxord said. "There's three of us and one of him."
"If you guys say so."
"Right," Xigbar said. "You go first."
Demyx blinked. "What? I thought we were attacking together."
"We are. If you distract him with your clones, I snipe him from up here, and Luxord rushes him, then this should end quickly and we'll be able to leave this barren shithole."
"Are you sure this is gonna work?"
"Would you rather we all charge down the hill like a bunch of idiots? Shut up and get to work before we lose our chance."
With a shove from Luxord, Demyx nearly tumbled as he took his first steps down the ledge. Readying his sitar, he began strumming, bringing form to some watery clones from the slight traces of moisture in the air. Behind him, Luxord shuffled a deck of cards and readied himself for a charge. Xigbar checked his guns and prepared to fire.
The sound of Demyx's music drew the swordsman's attention, and, as he looked up towards the source, the three Organization members saw the black mask that had been hidden by the flat brim of his hat. Luxord smirked. "An interesting choice."
"Should just make him fit right in with the rest of us," Xigbar said. "When Demyx gets—"
The masked man lunged forward and cut through the first wave of clones with a single sword stroke. After a second slash, he stood face to face with Demyx, who tried to defend himself from a quick barrage of slashes before taking a punch to the jaw, sending him to the dirt.
Xigbar scowled. "Forget that. Go get—"
In a blink, the man in the mask appeared next to Luxord, dispatching him in a similarly efficient fashion. As the gambler fell to the ground, Xigbar rolled to his feet and raised his guns when a quick jolt of blade against barrel forced them from his hands.
Xigbar glanced at his sore fingers and then up at the swordsman, who smiled back at him. "This certainly has been a day for unusual opponents. However, I have an appointment. If you'll excuse me."
Feeling the faintest breeze against his clothes, Xigbar caught a glimpse of a fist. The next thing he knew, he found himself lying on his back. Opening his one eye, he stared right into Demyx's face as the ninth member stood beside him with a foot raised, ready to deliver a kick.
"What. The hell. Are you doing?"
"Well, I thought you could use some help waking up."
"It didn't look like it to me," Luxord murmured, before uncrossing his arms from his chest. The movement revealed a letter "Z" slashed into the fabric of his robe.
"Luxord, where did you get that?"
"That man in black gave it to me – a parting gift, I'm sure. And the same for you and Demyx."
Xigbar looked down at his chest. Sure enough, his robe had been slashed three times, forming a Z. Putting a disgusted hand to his face, he looked down the ravine. "Where's Sephiroth?"
"Already gone when we woke up," Demyx said. "I couldn't find a trace of him anywhere."
"Fine. Just fine," Xigbar said. "Let's go."
"We're not going to keep looking for him, are we?" Demyx asked.
"No. We're heading back. I've had enough of this. And Demyx?"
"Yeah?"
"If you ever try to kick me again, I'll bury you and your ridiculous haircut in the sand."
"Would you prefer a kiss?"
"Shut up."
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