Categories > Games > Kingdom Hearts > Dark Eyes
Chapter Three
0 reviewsRiku, seeing the school closed, seeks shelter from the rain at Sora's house.
0Unrated
It was downright pouring by the time Riku reached the wrought iron front gates of Destiny Island’s only public high school, and his thick, white hoodie had soaked through to the inside to stick to his skin uncomfortably. He’d debated taking it off, exposing himself to the wind and the rain and the elements but for an umbrella, then kept it on, thinking with the foresight that if he did his t-shirt would probably start sticking to his skin too—and once he reached the school there would be someone else with a raincoat or an umbrella to share, anyway.
He was wrong.
There was only one car parked in the exceedingly spacious black gravel of the teacher’s car park, and it was the sad Ute of a bomb which had yet to be toed away, after being abandoned there the week before. No one was huddling under the covered entrance area either. The gates were locked, meaning school had already started or was called off for the rain. Probably the latter, what with the stupid mandatory education system always overreacting to everything-- so what if Riku was a minor delinquent and never showed up, that didn’t mean they had to call his mum at work about it.
On that note, Riku’s mum was at work now, and wouldn’t be back till a bit after school finished. Riku didn’t have a spare set of keys, and never brought his mobile with him to school - it was worth a bit, it’d probably get stolen by some cheap lowlife - so there was no way of getting in at home unless he gambled the climb up the drainpipe.
Riku sighed, and promptly turned around. He’d have to go to Sora’s place: Kairi’s was the other option but she lived on the water on the rich side of town and he didn’t want to walk that far in this weather. (Selphie was also close, but the thought of having to spend the day stuck in a house with her was a horrid one… Riku didn’t know where Tidus lived, and Wakka had a tin roof, meaning that Riku’s ears would be bleeding to death on the sidewalk with the noise of the rain.)
By the time Riku reached Sora’s place, every exposed piece of him was completely and utterly drenched, and his sneakers were squelching with every step. Water was dripping into his eyes from his hair, so he had to keep pulling his fringe back, and his hands were numb, and unfeeling as he pounded the doorbell with his fist. When he looked, they didn’t shiver at all but shake.
A single eye moved to the door’s peephole to greet him. It wasn’t a brilliant blue jem of Sora’s but his one of mum’s chocolate brown orbs, which widened with surprise then narrowed with anger, and then there was an ominous click. The door was now locked.
Riku swore loudly and gave the stubborn woman the mental finger, proceeding to walk around the back of the house to throw stones at Sora’s window in hopes that the younger, kinder boy would appear at it to let him in. Sora didn’t, and Riku wasn’t about to wait for the old hag to suddenly hear and lock that entrance, so after a few minutes of nothing, he climbed through it and immediately shut Sora’s door.
Riku wasn’t sure where Sora was exactly, but he knew Sora’d understand him getting changed into some of his drier clothes there and then. Most of Sora’s clothing was pooffy, bright, highly accessorized and a bit small-looking for Riku, so Riku spent a good fifteen minutes or so clad only in his boxers, thumbing through for pants that didn’t have fifty million peace badges or fake pink pockets.
That was what he was doing when Sora entered.
“Umm, Riku…” said Sora. “What are you doing?” (But it sounded like ‘what are you doing here’.)
Riku may or may not’ve flinched at the sight, looking up. Water ran a line down his torso: Sora had just come out of the shower or bath, and similarly wasn’t wearing much. Just a towel around his waist and a confused grin on his face, but shit, Riku envied that figure, that gravity-defying hair, that consistently light tan there and then. How Sora even managed to keep it all lasting in the winter months Riku had no idea.
“I um,” Riku stuttered, trying to find Sora’s eyes, “got locked out of my house and stuck in the rain, and I needed to change into a dry set of clothes, I assumed you were out.”
“Mama actually let you in?” Sora’s tone was amused and he looked more relaxed than Riku had ever seen him. Umm. Unsexy thoughts. Unsexy thoughts… Wasn’t Sora still supposed to be all emo about Roxas right now?
“That’s the thing. She didn’t, and locked the door on me, and I had to climb through the window and I did and I think I might’ve broken it.” Technically it was the rocks that broke it, Riku mentally corrected.
“You think?” Sora’s face suddenly darkened. “Riku, do you have any idea how much munny it’ll cost to fix that break? Mama’s gonna chuck a spaz, and I’ll have to put up with cold drafts and rain all this winter, and— are you even listening?”
No. Riku’d stopped getting dressed, his face horror stricken for the sound of impending footsteps, from down the hall.
Sora freaked out, a little, quietly. “Shit! Give me those clothes – no, don’t worry about the pants – can you hide in the dresser?” Riku didn’t fit. “Never mind about that, maybe under the bed?” Riku’s leg was stuck behind an iron bar in the wardrobe.
Sora stood on his bed and grappled for a knob at the ceiling, while also trying to hold his towel up, and for a moment Riku thought he’d gone mad. Then he saw the step ladder spring down from a trapdoor.
Two knocks on the door. “Sora, are you alright in there?”
Somehow, Riku managed to free his leg from the wardrobe: he survived unscathed, but the mahogany clothes storage unit toppled in the progress. Sora rushed down to set it upright and Riku scrambled for the stepladder: they bonked heads, and fell backwards.
“Idiot.” Sora hissed, rubbing his forehead. More carefully, they detangled themselves of each other and crawled towards their appropriate destinations.
“Uh, yes mama, I’m just having a couple of issues with my floorlamp.” Sora finally answered. Oh god was he a horrible liar. “Just a minute.”
There was a heavy clunk like Sora pushing the wardrobe back up against the wall or being crushed by its wait. The former, Riku surmised, as he felt a He stuffed Riku’s remaining limbs up and slammed the door shut. Silence.
For a couple of seconds, Riku dared not to even move, even breathe in the possibility of being caught, but as a quiet banter of conversation resumed below (“What were you doing in here, moving furniture?” “No mama, I just left the clock radio on before my shower … when I was coming in I moved to turn it off … tripped on the lamp’s cord, knocked it over…”) he relaxed and let his brain reacquaint him with the world.
It was a disused, narrow, attic-sort place that Sora had shoved him into, full of cardboard boxes and old calendars and dusty teddy bears that didn’t get love anymore. There was a large, triangular window in the corner, facing the back of the house, and a rocking chair. Posters of famous army personnel, and some rockstars who had long since seen their time. Along one wall a bunk bed, with unmade bed sheets. A hammer.
Riku again froze before he turned to see the display cabinet with the shattered glass encasing, because he’d only just realized that this was Cloud’s room. Cloud's old room. The room he had before he reputably went mad and killed his father, the room he had before something'd made him run away from the world.
Suddenly paranoid, Riku pulled his arms around his knees, nervously waiting for Sora to reopen the trapdoor and give him the all’s clear for downstairs.
To Be Continued
He was wrong.
There was only one car parked in the exceedingly spacious black gravel of the teacher’s car park, and it was the sad Ute of a bomb which had yet to be toed away, after being abandoned there the week before. No one was huddling under the covered entrance area either. The gates were locked, meaning school had already started or was called off for the rain. Probably the latter, what with the stupid mandatory education system always overreacting to everything-- so what if Riku was a minor delinquent and never showed up, that didn’t mean they had to call his mum at work about it.
On that note, Riku’s mum was at work now, and wouldn’t be back till a bit after school finished. Riku didn’t have a spare set of keys, and never brought his mobile with him to school - it was worth a bit, it’d probably get stolen by some cheap lowlife - so there was no way of getting in at home unless he gambled the climb up the drainpipe.
Riku sighed, and promptly turned around. He’d have to go to Sora’s place: Kairi’s was the other option but she lived on the water on the rich side of town and he didn’t want to walk that far in this weather. (Selphie was also close, but the thought of having to spend the day stuck in a house with her was a horrid one… Riku didn’t know where Tidus lived, and Wakka had a tin roof, meaning that Riku’s ears would be bleeding to death on the sidewalk with the noise of the rain.)
By the time Riku reached Sora’s place, every exposed piece of him was completely and utterly drenched, and his sneakers were squelching with every step. Water was dripping into his eyes from his hair, so he had to keep pulling his fringe back, and his hands were numb, and unfeeling as he pounded the doorbell with his fist. When he looked, they didn’t shiver at all but shake.
A single eye moved to the door’s peephole to greet him. It wasn’t a brilliant blue jem of Sora’s but his one of mum’s chocolate brown orbs, which widened with surprise then narrowed with anger, and then there was an ominous click. The door was now locked.
Riku swore loudly and gave the stubborn woman the mental finger, proceeding to walk around the back of the house to throw stones at Sora’s window in hopes that the younger, kinder boy would appear at it to let him in. Sora didn’t, and Riku wasn’t about to wait for the old hag to suddenly hear and lock that entrance, so after a few minutes of nothing, he climbed through it and immediately shut Sora’s door.
Riku wasn’t sure where Sora was exactly, but he knew Sora’d understand him getting changed into some of his drier clothes there and then. Most of Sora’s clothing was pooffy, bright, highly accessorized and a bit small-looking for Riku, so Riku spent a good fifteen minutes or so clad only in his boxers, thumbing through for pants that didn’t have fifty million peace badges or fake pink pockets.
That was what he was doing when Sora entered.
“Umm, Riku…” said Sora. “What are you doing?” (But it sounded like ‘what are you doing here’.)
Riku may or may not’ve flinched at the sight, looking up. Water ran a line down his torso: Sora had just come out of the shower or bath, and similarly wasn’t wearing much. Just a towel around his waist and a confused grin on his face, but shit, Riku envied that figure, that gravity-defying hair, that consistently light tan there and then. How Sora even managed to keep it all lasting in the winter months Riku had no idea.
“I um,” Riku stuttered, trying to find Sora’s eyes, “got locked out of my house and stuck in the rain, and I needed to change into a dry set of clothes, I assumed you were out.”
“Mama actually let you in?” Sora’s tone was amused and he looked more relaxed than Riku had ever seen him. Umm. Unsexy thoughts. Unsexy thoughts… Wasn’t Sora still supposed to be all emo about Roxas right now?
“That’s the thing. She didn’t, and locked the door on me, and I had to climb through the window and I did and I think I might’ve broken it.” Technically it was the rocks that broke it, Riku mentally corrected.
“You think?” Sora’s face suddenly darkened. “Riku, do you have any idea how much munny it’ll cost to fix that break? Mama’s gonna chuck a spaz, and I’ll have to put up with cold drafts and rain all this winter, and— are you even listening?”
No. Riku’d stopped getting dressed, his face horror stricken for the sound of impending footsteps, from down the hall.
Sora freaked out, a little, quietly. “Shit! Give me those clothes – no, don’t worry about the pants – can you hide in the dresser?” Riku didn’t fit. “Never mind about that, maybe under the bed?” Riku’s leg was stuck behind an iron bar in the wardrobe.
Sora stood on his bed and grappled for a knob at the ceiling, while also trying to hold his towel up, and for a moment Riku thought he’d gone mad. Then he saw the step ladder spring down from a trapdoor.
Two knocks on the door. “Sora, are you alright in there?”
Somehow, Riku managed to free his leg from the wardrobe: he survived unscathed, but the mahogany clothes storage unit toppled in the progress. Sora rushed down to set it upright and Riku scrambled for the stepladder: they bonked heads, and fell backwards.
“Idiot.” Sora hissed, rubbing his forehead. More carefully, they detangled themselves of each other and crawled towards their appropriate destinations.
“Uh, yes mama, I’m just having a couple of issues with my floorlamp.” Sora finally answered. Oh god was he a horrible liar. “Just a minute.”
There was a heavy clunk like Sora pushing the wardrobe back up against the wall or being crushed by its wait. The former, Riku surmised, as he felt a He stuffed Riku’s remaining limbs up and slammed the door shut. Silence.
For a couple of seconds, Riku dared not to even move, even breathe in the possibility of being caught, but as a quiet banter of conversation resumed below (“What were you doing in here, moving furniture?” “No mama, I just left the clock radio on before my shower … when I was coming in I moved to turn it off … tripped on the lamp’s cord, knocked it over…”) he relaxed and let his brain reacquaint him with the world.
It was a disused, narrow, attic-sort place that Sora had shoved him into, full of cardboard boxes and old calendars and dusty teddy bears that didn’t get love anymore. There was a large, triangular window in the corner, facing the back of the house, and a rocking chair. Posters of famous army personnel, and some rockstars who had long since seen their time. Along one wall a bunk bed, with unmade bed sheets. A hammer.
Riku again froze before he turned to see the display cabinet with the shattered glass encasing, because he’d only just realized that this was Cloud’s room. Cloud's old room. The room he had before he reputably went mad and killed his father, the room he had before something'd made him run away from the world.
Suddenly paranoid, Riku pulled his arms around his knees, nervously waiting for Sora to reopen the trapdoor and give him the all’s clear for downstairs.
To Be Continued
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