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The Night	By : mewsomniac Category: Kingdom Hearts > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1695 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: NO profit is being made off this work. Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, and Disney belong to their rightful owners, and I do not claim ANY ownership over their properties. FULL DISCLAIMER BELOW.

Chapter List
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The Night
Chapter I: Ophelia

June 28th, 2024

            At least the sky never lies, thought Roxas; his blue eyes caught the creamsicle daytime, ears humming. Midday at Market Street. On a Friday, of course: the one day heavy noise of foot traffic and obnoxious crowd chatter manage to reach this crow's nest of his—a tall building, it's top just out of sight. It's the perfect view of the heavy crowd trailing in from Station Heights and the Tram Common. At this time of the day, most are normally coming home from work, some are there to enjoy the weekend, and few are trying to escape the chaos… like Roxas.

            He leaned toward the edge of his vantage point, which is just above his room. The only access to it is through his window, or the fire escape reaching up from the Back Alley. Here, he was high above the masquerade wading beneath him. His fingers dangled over the edge like those of a whimsical puppetmaster—trailing his little hollow figurines across fake lives with scowls that are masked by fake smiles. Fake laughter. Fake everything.

            Beneath each shell is a core of hypocrisy and dark secrets. It's a town that has poisoned itself with judgment; no smart man here would divulge even the lithest of truths. Rumors drop like ink bombs and are seen by every eye, heard by every ear, and stain every surface—forever marring, unforgiving, life destroying. At least his watchtower is safe, and at least he can do as he pleases here without a worry.

            Roxas' other hand languidly rolled a glinting blue orb against a cemented crack in worn brick. It’s his prized possession. His gaze lingered on it, and a rare smile crept across his face. This is one of four orbs pulled off of a trophy he'd won in a Struggle match; the poisonous town's favorite sport. The other three are in possession of his only friends: Hayner, Pence, and Olette. Their grinning faces and hearty laughter resonated in the reflection of the object, and Roxas clutched it. Behind his own smile was pain, and quietly he reconsidered his plans to leave. The plan was to run away at the end of this summer and never return. Within an hour, every loose end could be tied up, and he would never have to look back again.

            But something in his friends' pure eyes drove him to regret the very thought.

            "Hey-o!" Came a sarcastic drawl from behind, "You waiting for Romeo, miss Juliet?"

            Roxas rolled his eyes, and couldn't help the chuckle that shuddered out of his chest. As he turned, he laid a melodramatic hand against his heart, and romantically cooed. "Where for art thou… Hayner." Roxas bat his eyelashes in the girliest way possible, and Hayner doubled over in laughter.

            "I'm sorry ma'am, I thought you we're my dude-friend!" His torso heaved in giggles, and Roxas shook his head at the lameness of the comeback.

            "What are you doing up here anyway?"

            After having regained his composure, Hayner stood upright with his signature cocky smirk smeared across his face. "Pence, Olette and I haven't seen you around all day, so I volunteered to sniff you out. I figured, this is your 'almost-as-usual' usual spot, so I might as well check here. Detective Hayner strikes again!"

            Roxas wanted to say something about getting away with it and meddling kids; instead he shook his head and leaned back across his ledge to watch the still-loud sea of people. It didn't take long for Hayner to join him, and they stayed there for a while: staring down upon the blob of townsfolk and standing close enough where Roxas could feel the warmth resonating off his friend. Slowly, the static of the noise was driving Roxas insane, and Hayner's proximity was making him slightly uncomfortable. When he forced himself to glance over to his friend, Roxas noticed how sullen the other teen was.

            "So uh," He blurted out with sudden concern, "Is something wrong?" Hanyer's response was a look of confusion and Roxas pushed himself to obey their regular social norms; tip-toeing across the guidelines that were internally set for his friend. "Er… you seem slightly less obnoxious today. That's all." He flashed a crooked grin to lighten the mood, but Hayner's sudden dimness did not falter.

            Leaning his back against the structure, Hayner sighed. "The real reason I vouched to come find you is 'cause I need someone to talk to." He turned his somber brown-eyed gaze onto Roxas' blue concerned one. "It's about Olette."

            Of course, despite their seemingly polar-opposite personalities, Hayner and Olette are the perfect couple. They communicate well, work together easily, and are so deeply in love that it not even a fool could deny it. Of course, in any relationship, all it takes is one doubt…. especially in this town of poison.

            "I love her, and I want to be with her past high school—Hell, past college!" Hayner continued, "But I'm afraid I'll get tempted. You know me, man; I've got a hair-trigger in my brain, dude… if I see something I like I go after it. What if I do it while I'm with her?" He ran his fingers through his slicked sandy-blond hair, "I just gotta stop being tempted. I wanna get a taste, and never have to need it again."

            "Wait, are you saying," The disgust in Roxas' tone was very evident, "you're going to cheat on Olette now because you're afraid you'll do it later?"

            Hayner picked up on it quick, "Whoa, dude!" He reached over to grip Roxas' shoulder, "Listen, I'm a horny bi teenager, alright? You know it, I know it… fuck, it's so obvious even Olette knows it. Thing is, I don't want to fuck anyone, I just… well maybe… I dunno. I mean…" The deep scowl on Roxas' face jarred Hayner to continue, "I just want to get rid of this carnal desire. Like, do some sexy stuff, get it over with, and let my desire finally center Olette."

            The pause that followed was more grating than the Friday bustle could ever be, but both boys bared it. Roxas heavily contemplated Hayner's words, and the only advice he could think to give was a punch to the face. Olette didn't deserve anyone going behind her back for any reason—and in this town, there really was no one Hayner could trust with his exploits without metaphorically shining a spotlight on himself and holding a flashing neon sign that says he cheated. At this point, he might as well post fliers across the Tram Commons with his scheme listed for the entire populous of Twilight Town to read.

            Seeing no positive outlook, Roxas hung his head, "You should really just keep it in your pants. There's no one here that you can really trust with something like that, especially in this awful place." He felt Hayner lift his chin, and his face got hot when he realized how close his brown-eyed friend suddenly was.

            "Well," Hayner said slowly, his smirking lips closer now than ever before. "I can trust you, can't I?"

            A ball of unease curled in Roxas' gut and rolled up his throat as he pleaded with Hayner to not put such a heavy burden on him, that this could ruin their friendship, destroy their lives, and that this town has unforgiving eyes. However, not a single word had actually passed his lips as Hayner pulled him in for a kiss. Roxas did not move or resist; how could he? After all, he wanted Hayner more than anyone else in this world. Most of his life he’d had a crush on the other man, but because he was tentative Olette had made a move before he could and he missed his shot.
  For the most part, he was able to put aside his feelings out of respect for the happy couple. Yet there he was, with Hayner's hands exploring him and delighting in every second of it. Suddenly, Hayner bit onto his neck while simultaneously grinding him; a low, surprised moan was Roxas' response as his eyes shut and his grip found the front of Hayner's vest for stability. A sudden agony filled him when he realized he was still holding the glinting blue orb, and in his head swam apologies as he imagined it dripping with ink. He pushed the pain down deep inside and somehow managed to pocket the object in the midst of Hayner’s rampant groping, using his now-freed hand to run his fingers through the other man’s hair; snagging locks to kiss him deeper. Hayner slipped his tongue between Roxas’ lips, and Roxas jut his own tongue to meet the advance halfway. It was all so much better than he ever imagined it: the taste, the feel, the sensation. He can taste the lingering bite of soda and sea-salt ice cream; it both revolts and entices him, like the flavor of innocence lost. It’s driving him mad. Hayner’s nails grip into his sides and, starving for more, he bites onto Hayner’s lower lip. The other man grinds their crotches together and he can feel Hayner’s hardness through his pants.
Though Roxas was already sure of it, now he knew Hayner never wanted to just kiss. He surprised himself by sticking his hand between them to grab the front of Hayner’s pants, gently stroking the apparent bulge there; Hayner responded by grunting and rocking his hips into Roxas’ hand. His body was on a sort of fervent sexual autopilot now, so lost in the moment that he wasn’t really aware of what exactly he was doing. Maybe, just maybe, Hayner honestly wasn't planning on taking it this far... but Roxas was already lost to his own desperation as his fingers fumbled for the zipper on Hayner’s stupid-ugly camo pants. If there was some shred of conscience left in Hayner, it was probably gone once Roxas’ hand was pulling his rock-hard erection out of his boxers. Picturing motions he'd seen in various pornos, Roxas’ hand experimentally stroked the shaft once or twice as their lips continued to move together, though now Hayner had paused to moan audibly against his mouth.
  Roxas didn't realize what he was doing next until he was already getting on his knees—and just then he was completely terrified… of himself, mostly. He was riding a wave of pure adrenaline and suddenly he's staring straight at Hayner’s dick. At some point they must have switched positions as now it was Hayner pressed against the bricks, looking down at Roxas anxiously, his hands gripping tight on the roof's ledge as if a little head would blow out both his kneecaps. Roxas, trying not to stare too awkwardly at his friend’s erection, only let himself hesitate for a second, knowing that overthinking would derail the bizarre sexual momentum he’d fallen into.
      So, once more thinking back to what he's learned from porn, he clamped his eyes shut and carefully leaned forward to wrap his lips around the head of the member. He could taste the bitter hint of precum as he gently swirled his tongue in a spiral, eliciting a twitch and moan from Hayner. He slowly moved his mouth further down the shaft, careful not to make himself gag or snag any skin on his teeth. As he moved forward, he teased the underside of the member by wiggling his tongue in the cramped space. Then, he began to bob his head back and forth in a careful rhythm, still cautious of his gag reflexes. Roxas kept working away with his tongue too and, once he was more comfortable, started to do a flourish where he quickly flicked his tongue over the tip when he came back to it. All that laboring began to strain the muscles in his throat, but he continued anyway through the discomfort.
      Though he wasn't sure how, he could feel Hayner’s cock getting harder in his mouth, and occasionally it would twitch and tickle the back of his throat in response to certain stimuli. The other’s man’s fingers were gripping his hair and soon, Hayner was starting to mildly buck his hips into Roxas’s mouth; it was obvious he was practicing some serious restraint with how carefully he was doing it. Hayner was also groaning in a way that made Roxas’ own erection start to strain his pants, and in an aroused daze he gripped Hayner’s shaft, pumping in sync with his sucking. The response was more frequent and strained sounds coming from above, which only made Roxas go to work harder despite his sore jaw.
      Then, all at once, he felt Hayner pull him away. When he looked up inquisitively, he saw the wild look in Hayner’s eyes.
      “Can we fuck?” Hayner hurriedly asked, but before a Roxas could say yes, the merry jingle of a cellphone breaks them out of the moment. Roxas recognized it as Olette’s custom ringtone, and Hayner didn’t hesitate to answer it despite Roxas kneeling inches from his softening cock. Suddenly jarred from his state of arousal, Roxas realized all of what just happened... and wants to vomit.
      A few rooftops away, somewhere along the skirts of the Tram Commons, there was a devious grin beneath a set of binoculars.
July 2nd, 2024

            Roxas curls beneath his sheets, arm outstretched and hand still on the snooze button of his alarm clock. The touch screen readout displays 6:32 am, the buzzer having gone off about two minutes ago. Summer break or no, his alarm is still set for a normal school day; thirty minutes to shower, ten to make some food, another twenty on the tram to school. The train normally arrives at 7:20 am, but his father also wakes up quite some time before that; Roxas would rather stand in the station for a while than witness his hung-over dad pitifully lug himself around while using every spare breath to curse his son. Around sunset is when Roxas has deemed it safe to return home; by then his father is usually asleep on the couch, beer bottle in hand (hard liquor on a bad day), snoring to highlights of a professional Struggle match. Nights where his father is still up, glaring at the TV screen with glazed eyes, Roxas will fix him another drink and go to bed.

            Deciding he's better off getting out of the house as soon as possible, Roxas manages to sit up in his bed and ruffle his soft spikes. He gets up off of the mattress and out of the tangle of blankets; ignoring the fleeting lapse of dizziness caused by his urgency. He has a moment of pause before he kneels down next to his bed and immediately notices the shining object protruding from the underside of his mattress. He lifts the edge of the bed up, and counts the lustrous spheres of varying sizes; they cover every square inch of his solid bed base and reach a total of 21,050 munny. His heart aches at the amount; six summers of hard work that have crumbled away under the weight of life's expenses. His original goals for college seem further away every day. He remembers his predicted routine would result in 97,200 munny in his pocket; he figures it's better off this way because now he can graduate early, having paid for online classes that led to extra credits.

            He fits the mattress snugly onto the base and, after a quick check to make sure nothing else is poking out, looks underneath the bed. His hand disappears into the dark, box-filled chasm as he feels around it's contents: the backpack with his laptop hidden by extra clothes, the satchel holding his prepaid cell phone amongst train schedules and maps, and—

            Smooth, glossy wood greets Roxas' touch, and he sighs in relief.

            In the shower, underneath the rainfall spout, all Roxas can think of is Hayner and his antics. Massaging the shampoo suds out of his hair, he remembers Olette's sweet words and loving gestures toward the brown-eyed hooligan just hours after the rooftop incident. There's a terrible nausea attached to the memory of Hayner returning her gestures—Roxas smoothes conditioner onto his scalp—as if nothing had ever happened.

            Of course, the whole idea was to never inform Olette of her boyfriend's ridiculous misdoings, but it burrowed into Roxas' brain like some otherworldly guilt-worm. Roxas found out later that Hayner timed it the way he did because Olette was supposed to be busy for the entire day, and that last-minute cancellation of her plans came out of nowhere for both of them. But it was just as well, because once he had time to ruminate on the concept he realized what a terrible idea it would have been. The amount of regret he feels now would have been nothing compared to what he would have felt if they did end up having sex. Not to mention how difficult it would be to keep the truth from Olette… even so, his conscience was losing it’s metaphorical shit over the situation. He’d spent so much of his life trying to avoid becoming another charade of a person in this town. The feeling of contrition already hangs heavy in his chest, but there's something else that doesn't seem right about that day, something that he can't seem to shake. Glancing at the shower panel, Roxas curses; according to the projected screen he's off schedule.

            Sometime after toweling off and getting dressed—black shirt, white vest, cargos, sneakers—Roxas creeps his way down the stairs as quietly as possible. He's running late, and by now his father is most likely up and dragging his ass around the house. Surely enough, a slumped figure donning a stained bathrobe is reaching into the booze cabinet above the fridge. Taking advantage of the opening, Roxas briskly approaches the door across the hallway.

            "Good morning to you too, dipshit." His father's droning echoes down the hallway. Roxas can imagine the stinking breath and yellowing teeth gnashing in his direction. "Nice to see you're feeling so lively while your dad sits here dying, you ungrateful bastard."

            The words are hollow, and after all these years of desensitization, they stir no emotion in Roxas; all that's left of his father's voice is alcohol-scented white noise. There's a gulping sound, and Roxas chooses that moment to scoop up his skateboard and leave.

            As he closes the door behind himself, his father's biting words hiss through the crack, "I'm not done talking to you, ya little—"

            The shout is cut off by a combination of a slammed door and the skateboard clattering against the road. After a quick push, Roxas lets gravity do the rest of the work; his only objective to get as much distance between himself and "home" as possible.

            The wind blowdries his still-damp hair, Market Street passes in an orange-blue-yellow blur, and the faint bustle of the business day dissolves beneath his skateboard's rattle. The streets are empty with all the working townsfolk at Station Plaza, and all the students sleeping in for summer break. Stopping at the end of Market Street, Roxas contemplates his next destination. He considers visiting the Usual Spot, but his house sits right next to it and that goes against his initial plan of staying away from there. Plus, walking uphill sucks, and it's unlikely his friends are there this early in the day.

            Going to the Sandlot is out of the question, thinks Roxas with a look of disgust in it's direction; not at all worth the gamble should a certain guy somehow be there. That certain guy being Seifer: the most despicable person in a town full of despicable people. There should be an award for that. A smirk tugs at Roxas' lips. The image of a golden douche statue awarded to Seifer pops into his head, and he resolves to visit the Tram Common.

            Unsurprisingly, it's vastly empty with a few early-morning and weekday shoppers dotting the scape. Despite major technological upgrades and remodeling recently done, it's always a very lazy place up until the weekend. The tram that trolleys through the area is empty save for the conductor—who's probably pretty bored—and a happy-looking older couple sitting at the back. The lack of energy in the place is especially apparent due to unenthusiastic or asleep shopkeepers neglecting their jobs.

            Just as Roxas reconsiders coming here, he spots something familiar out of the corner of his eye; none other than Olette and Pence looking over a large holoscreen ad on a nearby wall. A three-dimensional explosion, followed by obnoxious shining text earns a loud scoff from Pence. He watches them fondly, memories of their past swimming in his head. He remembers the few weeks after they all turned sixteen (Roxas very last) where Pence hit a crazy growth spurt and now towers three inches over Hayner, four over Roxas, and five over Olette. They bickered and argued as Olette counted the tickmarks of Pence's height every week for a good ten months. The result was the once-chubby boy suddenly having a healthy weight for his height; driving Roxas and Hayner to insanity trying to figure it out, despite Pence's explanation that it simply happens to all the males in his family. He observes how tiny Olette looks next to Pence, feeling small himself even at this distance. Giving a light push, Roxas coasts in their direction and the prattling is recognized by the two as they turn to him almost instantly.

            "Roxas!" Olette's light voice hits his ears, and he can't help but smile at how sweet she always sounds. Her voice carries sunshine in an otherwise darker place, along with her always-helpful nature. Olette only ever looks out for the ones she cares about, as if bound to a selfless conquest. "Fancy seeing you here." Roxas ignores the oncoming heartache that sends a twang through his chest, and does his best to find solace in her kind green eyes.

            "Oh thank god," Pence groans, "Save me Roxas, she's been dragging me all over!" He reaches toward the blond with a melodramatic expression of pain. "Kill me," Pence chokes out, "Kill… me…" His ridiculous act makes Roxas feel grateful for such unique friends; they're almost like the maskless rebels who crash the masquerade… fitting, being the only ones with such causality in a town so rigid you could snap it like a dead twig.

            "Seriously Pence," Roxas laughs a rare, hearty laugh, "Shopping can't be that bad. Look how upset you made Olette!" They both look in her direction, and the ray of sun that usually surrounds her demeanor turns into a storm cloud with as little as a scowl. Her glare reads Pence's death wish eagerly, and said boy gulps. It seems funny how easily such a larger man can somehow shrink under Olette's quiet wrath. "Uh, but anyway," Roxas attempts to cut through the sudden tension, "What are you shopping for?"

            The almost-instant shift in Olette's mood surprises Roxas as she claps her hands together and chirps, "A new outfit for a date, of course!" The loving smile on her face spreads throughout her features, "Hayner and I haven't had one for a while, so we're going out to dinner tonight!"

            The thought comes through without Roxas noticing: I'm sure there's something he's making up for. There's that feeling again… Roxas swallows back the guilt and forces a small smile to his lips. He begs himself to forget, to let it go. You'll tear yourself apart. Hayner never kissed you, and you certainly never…

            His lies feel empty as he remembers twisting his fingers into Hayner's hair and kissing him back, grabbing the bulge in his pants, kneeling down…

            Pence lets out a sarcastic "D'awwwwww you two are just so cute." He rolls his eyes, "Where to now, mistress?"

            The combined pout-glare that is directed toward Pence is both menacing and strangely cute. "Actually," She huffs, "since Roxas has come to your rescue, I can leave you here while I do some lingerie shopping." The taunting smile that curls her lips tells all: this is the part Pence was looking forward to.

            "But!" He cries, "If I stare at all the 3D posters without a girl there people think I'm creepy! Olette!" The girl had long since said her goodbyes and trotted off.

            As Pence whines, Roxas' gaze meets the holoscreen where a large spoon points in his direction. The advertisement reads directions to a French café just around the corner as various confectionary items fill the three-dimensional space. There is a low growl, and while relieved his stomach is churning from something other than guilt, Roxas is eager to make up for his skipped breakfast.

            "Why don't we go to this place?" He asks Pence, and said boy follows his eyes to the ad. "I could really go for some sweets right now." Anything to take his mind off of everything, even if that means putting himself into a diabetic coma over those delicious-looking macarons…

            As his mouth waters, Pence lets out a sly chuckle, "Yes, perfect for your sweet tooth." He drawls.

            Roxas is too hungry to call Pence a hypocrite.

            The outdoor café is eerily empty due to the weekday morning lag; more so than most places. It was almost a relief to have that extra unexpected bit of peace in a place meant to be chaotic. Pence's good company was especially relaxing, as per normal. Even if their little group did have its own unique chaos, it was almost like oil on top of water compared to the town. They worked with a harmonic pace, never having to lie or keep things from each other.

            Roxas takes a hard gulp from his water glass.

            Or so it seems.

            At least being with Pence is like meditating in a quiet space. In that respect, Olette would be the scenery and quiet birds chirping in the distance… and Hayner would be the firecracker someone decided it would be fun to light under your ass. Being with each one was always a different experience, but together was best. In the middle of questioning his own symbolic place in the zen garden, Pence brought him back into reality.

            "They have creampuffs and crepes? Oh man," He lets out a dramatic sigh, more to himself than anyone else. "Life's tough decisions."

            Enjoying the previous silence, Roxas makes no comment: his heart still set on the macaroons projected by the holoscreen earlier. Still, it feels odd to have such a strange sense of tranquility settle like this, almost mirroring how it was when they were children… when they were naïve. Roxas' mother would sing him to sleep on restless nights, he and his brother would sneak outside at midnight to watch the stars, and his little zen group had no worries; as all children should never have to worry over anything except for things that go bump in the night.

            Bump? Roxas thought. For some reason that didn't sound right. The night? That's the only real time of peace he was used to, when all the masked figures retire and he's free from their cruel eyes and even crueler tongues—free to find the light in such a dark world.

            He's the first to notice the unenthusiastic waitress return for their food orders, but motions Pence to go before him anyway. Pence orders raspberry crepes and Roxas asks for the macaroon sampler. While she jots down the order, Pence speaks up to her.

            "Where are you based out of?"

            "Excuse me?" The waitress asks, with an unnecessarily offended tone.

            "Er," Is that simple of a question really so hard to answer? Pence taps his chin. "That is, I know this café chain has been around for some time, but this is the only one in Twilight Town. Where is the restaurant based out of?"

            The waitress' look changes to embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry," She says, "Uhm, the chain tends to move around, but I know the manager comes out of Dusk…" She looks off into the distance, and both boys follow her gaze to see another server making a zipping motion across his mouth. "…I'll go put these orders in for you."

            She trails off toward the server and they proceed to quietly bicker while throwing haphazard glances in Roxas' and Pence's direction. After some furious hand gestures, they both storm off in different directions. Roxas' stomach groans and he hopes she's still going to put in the order, granted she hasn't been fired.

            "Did you hear that?" Pence's voice is low, mischievous, quiet; it's the kind of voice used when kids whisper test answers to one another in class. It's a common delivery method for secrecy in Twilight Town, and Roxas almost feels shocked to hear Pence, of all people, using it.

            Shaking off his disbelief, Roxas humors him anyway. "What?"

            Pence leans in close—God, Roxas hates when people do that—and with a curt smile whispers, "Dusk City."

            The way Pence says it makes Roxas feel like they're discussing a haunted house or some paranormal phenomena, which is actually very fitting. Even this town's monstrous people pale in comparison to the actual monsters that lurk Dusk City. The horrors that routinely arise from the godforsaken city are never few nor far between; the all-ye-who-enter-here-abandon-all-hope title is an earned one. Only one train a month goes in, and whoever may be on it is likely to never return. Most people flee from the city to Twilight Town, and thankfully they've long since created a system to keep any and all inhuman creatures out: the train only comes during the day, a blood sample must be taken, and anything trying to come in is sent back.

            Of course, that is all speculation. In a place flooded with lies, even if the truth surfaces it will ultimately drown. Only those who've seen Dusk City, or have ridden the crazy train, know the reality.

            But, no matter what, it will always be Roxas' trump card—the card he plans on using at summer's end.

            "So?" Roxas scoffs, reaching over to his drink. "A lot of businesses move in from there. I'm pretty sure they don't get many customers in a city crawling with ghoulies, ghosties and long-legged beasties."

            "Well, would you ever go there? I hear this month's train is leaving Thursday."

            Roxas' clutch on the condensating glass tightens. If only he could tell him everything: every scheme, plot and plan he has toward his goals. He could spill it as easily as this glass of water, and release all this weight that's been built up for so very long. The pact he made himself long ago, every little detail he's hidden from each of his friends, each small step toward freedom…

            "No," He dries his hand on the tablecloth, "No I would not."

            He lives in the town of liars and he is a liar.

            Suddenly, before him appears a plate with macarons. The cascade of pastel colors is comforting on his gaze, and he feels his mouth watering once again. Courteously, he waits a moment for Pence to receive his plate and admits it looks pretty damn good: a glossy burgundy sauce drizzled over the near-perfect crepe only makes him hungrier. Unable to spare another second, Roxas picks up a rosy-pink macaron and takes a bite. The crunch rings in his ears as the sweet flavor of the ganache envelopes his palette.

            "Jesus Fuck," Roxas mutters, savoring the extraordinary confection. "This is fucking… wow."

            As Roxas eats his way to sweet confectionary oblivion, Pence also enjoys his treat with a contented smile gracing his features

            "So Roxas," He pipes up about halfway through his crepe. "there's been something I've been meaning to ask you about." Already done with his plate, Roxas leans onto the table—noticing just then how small it is—and nods for Pence to continue. "It's about the Hayner thing."

            Roxas' stomach drops, though no emotion meets his face. The regret of stuffing his face with those macaroons appears alongside the fear his body will suddenly consider rainbow vomit to be necessary.

            "…I have no idea—"

            "Hey, hear me out," Pence interrupts him, "I know about the Struggle match." He looks at him with knowing eyes, and tilts his head ever-so-slightly in Roxas' direction. Roxas probably wouldn't notice if he wasn't gawking at Pence, but the taller boy's eyes flit toward the distance, and Roxas takes that as a cue to look behind him. Sure enough, the waitress from before is wiping down an already-clean table near them with an agonizingly slow pace. "I just want you to know two out of three isn't so bad. Hayner said you were pretty concerned about your technique, so he asked me to give you pointers." The waitress, obviously disappointed, slumps her shoulders before turning to leave; placing the bill on the table as she passes.

            "Vultures," Roxas hisses, "Nothing but buzzards in a desert picking at everyone's sanity."

            "What's this I hear about a struggle match?"

            An agonizing crawling sensation meets Roxas' skin, and Pence sighs in annoyance.

            Of all days I don't accidentally run into him, Roxas grits his teeth. Seifer has to come to me instead.

            "I believe that's none of your business." Pence speaks up, "All there is here is friendly advice."

            Then, Seifer laughs. He laughs that awful, evil, breathy laugh that shudders in Roxas' head and makes him want to disappear. The rage pounding in his skull makes everything topsy-turvy, every part of him is screaming to wring the man's neck but every logical part knows he'd never succeed.

            "So Pudgeball is giving Rucksack advice on Struggling," He leans on the table between the two of them and grips the edge. "Seems suspicious to me."

            An unease creeps through Roxas' nerves, and Pence holds his ground, "Good job using old insults, Seifer. Plus, Struggling is this town's favorite past-time, I'm pretty sure I know enough to give some advice."

            Roxas has to give props, Pence has some serious balls. Of all people willing to stand up to Seifer, it's usually Hayner. Somewhere along the line, Pence must have taken up the mantle in the brown-eyed warrior's absence. Still, it hurt Roxas to not be able to step up after winning that Struggle trophy a couple years ago. Ever since then, it seems like Seifer holds a heavy grudge against Roxas; a constant pining to get even upon his undefeated winning streak being broken.

            But is that it? The thought feels strange in Roxas' head. Why would he agonize over something like that for so long? I'm not a strong person, I just got lucky. His heart sinks, I can't even stand up for myself, and I'm letting Pence defend me.

            "Whatever losers," Seifer's snort was overtly obnoxious, "Enjoy your date." He saunters off in his own trademark haughty way, but something feels off.

            He wasn't there very long…

            There is a pause filled with multiple "vulture" checks before Pence clears his throat and leans in close again.

            "Listen," Pence's voice is more sincere than secretive, "Hayner told me about everything: loving Olette, wanting to hook up with other people, and even the thing between you two."

            What happens next is more shocking than what was just said. Roxas feels Pence's delicate touch gracing his leg; the soft strokes of his thumb admittedly comforting, but all the while terrifying. The touch travels further and further up Roxas' leg and he is at least relieved he doesn't have to worry about a girlfriend or something.

            "Pence," he finally speaks up; in his head he can't stop thinking Not you too. "Why are you—"

            "Please," Pence's voice takes a soothing tone, "I just want to say, I'm sorry it had to come to that. He tried to make a move on me too, but I shot him down. It was just a kiss, right? Just try not to worry about it, okay?" His hand caresses Roxas' thigh, and the blond inadvertently shudders.
            “Just a kiss”? Roxas’ throat tightens, Hayner didn’t tell him the whole truth...
  His face feels hot, and what's worse is Pence motions him closer. Unsure, Roxas leans in as much as he can and right away feels Pence's lips on his ear. "Besides," Pence's breath makes gooseflesh out of Roxas' skin. "He'd never out you like that, especially not to save his own ass. He only told me because he knows he can trust me."
  Two painful thoughts flit across his consciousness: Apparently not, Pence… but I’m not going to tell you what happened either.

            Moving back slightly, Pence graces his lips over Roxas' cheek, and stops at the corner of his mouth. Their gazes lock, and Roxas is caught like a deer in the headlights; especially when Pence captures his lips so delicately it feels like one big, strange dream that lasts for only a few seconds. Pence leans back and everything continues its normal pace, as if it was all stuck in slow motion before. He gives Roxas' thigh a squeeze before withdrawing his hand and stretching in his chair.

            "How long does lingerie shopping take anyway?" Pence pulls out a cherry-red phone, "Might as well give Olette a call and let her know where we are."

            Shock floods Roxas' veins like an icy morphine and he feels a pseudoparalysis, gauged by his fleeting thoughts, envelop him. Why would Pence kiss him? They are both very comfortable with one another, and closeness is never an issue in their friendship…

            Abruptly, a strange batch of memories passes through Roxas' mind.

            While menial then, the memories reveal gestures and signs that seem obvious now: the way Pence sent gentle smiles when no one was looking, brushing skin with him very tenderly in passing, his lingering touch at the pat of the back… every little signal of affection that once went over Roxas' head is throbbing in his brain; all he can think of is every noncommittal kinesthetic he accidentally returned. Every smile he returned, every touch he leaned into, every possible scrap of misleading motion that could have sent the message of flirting. This social situation is strange. Only once has Roxas ever put forth his effort to show infatuation with someone, and that ended in…

            No, Roxas scolds himself, Don't think about that. Just forget it.

            His heart slowly begins to sink. It hurts to not be able to reciprocate Pence's feelings, as much as he would want to. What Roxas once perceived as love died a long time ago, but at least a civil kindness still exists.

            He looks up at Pence with glassy blue eyes and internally apologizes to his beloved friend: the friend who has changed more from so long ago than maybe even Roxas himself. He watches as Pence chats away on his phone so casually, despite the situation from moments before, and the scene reminds Roxas all too much of Hayner's lack of care just days ago. The burning sensation of bile accompanies his feeling of disgust.

            What's up with all his friends, anyway?

            "So, Olette's almost done and she should be here relatively soon." Pence returns his phone to its hiding place before continuing, "Meantime, I got the check. I know you're usually strapped for cash, so don't worry about it."

            Roxas envisions the underside of his mattress and thinks differently.

            A humble silence falls upon the two as Pence places munny on the bill, but Roxas' head feels noisy. What he wouldn't give to forget everything that happened over the past few days… it was supposed to be easy to step on that train next month, leaving behind only somber goodbyes and good memories. Now, leaving this place with so many loose ends will only make it all the more complicated.

            Was leaving the best idea in the first place?

            The thought left Roxas' mind hollow. It was an option he had never taken into consideration.

            He looked at Pence again, and imagined what life would be like if they were together. It was a brief image that brought a strange warmness to Roxas' heart.

            As if possessing some insane telekinesis, Pence very plainly, but hopefully, asks "So, maybe we should do this again sometime. Like, uh… just you and me. On a…" He bites his lip and lowers his voice, "You know… a date."

            Of course it has to get worse.

            Roxas' urge to repeatedly slam his head into the table is almost unbearable—this is almost too much to bear. He wants to say yes so very badly but August is encroaching fast, and if he wants to keep his initial plan he simply can't.

            But should I keep that plan?

            Another lapse of a hollowed mind. He can easily afford the Community College that Hayner, Pence and Olette are going to after senior year. It certainly is more affordable than the 67,101,720 munny a year he would have to pay for the initial college he chose. He can still skip senior year, like he planned on, and use it to work. Roxas could definitely make enough money over that time to cover the community college costs, on top of what he has left, and transfer the credits. If he can't make up enough money for his originally chosen college by then, there are numerous other ones that have already begged for his admission.

            But all that, just to go out with Pence?

            Ideally, it would be to stay with all of his friends, but what if things fall through? What if he regrets changing his plan? He'll ultimately have to stay with his dad for another god-awful year; he can't exactly afford getting another place if he'll be saving up for tuition, even though he's 18.

            Roxas glances over to Pence, and sees that determined gleam in his brown eyes. Roxas only sees that look when Pence is so set on something he can't possibly back down.

            Well, Roxas considers, I do have a whole month to decide whether or not to change my plans.

            "That…" Roxas mutters, "Sounds like a good idea." For once, he smiles at Pence first. Pence smiles back, and reaches over the table to grasp Roxas' hand—

            "Still here, ladies?" Seifer's hideous drone reaches Roxas' ears more aggressively than usual. Something seems different… more hostile… competitive, even? "You must be quite doe-eyed this evening." Seifer's grasp assumes its previous position, albeit more roughly than before, and Roxas' suspicions become more prevalent. There's something that's upset the tough blond; just about everything seems off with him today.

            "You really seem to need some context." Pence's gaze is unafraid, especially now that he can rival Seifer's height. "Two hungry teenagers waiting for a friend to show up decide to have some food and chill out." Pence slowly stands, unwavering. "Is that example better for your intellect?"

            Suddenly Seifer is upright and in his face; all illusions of self-satisfactory humor have vanished. The look in the man's blue eyes say murder, and Roxas swears he can see electricity shooting between them.

            "Listen here, Pence." Seifer's tone is more serious than Roxas has ever heard it before, "Know your place. You both should." A twisted, sickening smirk curls at the man's thin lips. "After all, there are plenty ways to decimate a loser… besides force."

            They stand there for a moment, and Roxas fearfully moves his gaze. He notices Seifer is holding something, but before he can further examine it, the tall blond turns and leaves without another word.

            Pence relaxes back into his chair with a sigh of relief. "Oh man, same height or not, that dude is still scary as hell."

            Roxas, feeling somewhat useless, mutters out "I'm sorry." When Pence throws him a questioning look, he continues. "I just feel like I can't stand up to Seifer like I used to. Suddenly he's much more aggressive, and I end up avoiding him rather than just facing him like you or Hayner can."

            Pence reaches over and grasps his hand, "Roxas, please," His voice is soothing, but encouraging. "Maybe now it's just better to avoid conflict. One day, when you feel like you can stand up to Seifer, I'm sure you'll kick his ass six ways from Thursday!"

            A warm smile adorns Pence's face, and it's contagious. "Yeah," Roxas responds, "One of these days I'll find that strength… but for now you just gotta be my bodyguard," He chuckles, "Or hiding spot, since you're so damn tall…"

            Pence laughs and pulls his hand away just as Olette is upon the scene, hands adorning various shopping bags.
After that, Roxas had accompanied Olette and Pence on their shopping-spree across the still-nearly-empty Tram Common. Pence and Roxas resolved to keep their new "relationship" a secret, so as to avoid any backlash or problems. Pence had stolen a peck here and there, or even managed to get a hold of Roxas' hand, somewhat like a ninja; Roxas could have sworn the taller man had previous experience with this or something. It was almost fun being so sneaky, and the thrill of it brought a refreshing excitement Roxas had not felt for a long time. Never once did he kiss first, though, for fear his own lack of ninja skills would get them screwed over. The enjoyment he had felt slowly dissipated the negative emotions stirring in him, and the Hayner incident was nearly forgotten.

            A couple hours into their trip, Olette had stumbled upon a pretty dress for a low price. "In my favorite color too!" She exclaims, holding the creamsicle colored, halter strapped sundress against her petite figure. "It's perfect for tonight!" Her delight radiates around her, and her shopping companions can't help but feel happy for her.

            Now that their little adventure is over, Olette makes her way home to further prepare for her date, and Pence offers to walk Roxas to his house before accompanying Olette for even more help. They had stopped beneath the bridge beside the hole in the wall at the Tram Common.

            "No, I'm okay," Roxs responds, leaning his back against the brick, "I'll just cut through the Sandlot and take the Back Alley way home," This way he can use the fire escape to retire to his "almost-as-usual" usual spot, as Hayner called it. "Maybe after you're done helping Olette, we can hang out again." The words came out so easily, Roxas is almost surprised—normally he's never first to initiate social activities. Even Pence seems surprised at Roxas' notion, as his face reads slight bewilderment.

            After recomposing himself, Pence replies, "Well, I have a couple errands to run in Sunset Terrace where Olette and Hayner are having their date. If you're not busy, I'll be there until about nine o'clock, so feel free to come find me.

            Roxas couldn't help but smile in another short lapse of excitement. "It's a date th—"

            Suddenly he is cut off when Pence swoops down and captures his lips in an aggressive kiss. The taller man grips Roxas' hips and pulls him close while simultaneously pressing him up against the wall. Roxas is in a bit of shock, but finds himself kissing Pence back and resting his hands against the brunet's nape for some support; he forces back the sensation of déjà vu, and the guilty memories of Hayner are slowly replaced with new, enticing memories of Pence. The taller man's hands roam up Roxas' back and said blond grips eagerly at Pence's shoulders, letting out a soft noncommittal moan in the process. One of Pence's hands stray from the path and quickly snakes down to give Roxas’ ass a firm grope that makes him squeak in surprise. Roxas is disappointed when Pence breaks away, but the feeling quickly disappears when the brunet starts to leave a trail of nips all across the blond's exposed neck. Roxas sighs, and feels himself arching into Pence while running his fingers through the tall man's soft brown hair. Eventually, Pence pulls away, leaving Roxas clearly flustered and highly aroused.
  "Sorry," Pence smiles, "I had to get that out of my system while I still had the chance for today." He gives Roxas a pat on the cheek, and a quick wink. "I find you quite irresistible."
  Roxas laughs, "I don't mind, I enjoyed it."
  There's a bizarre chirp, and Pence takes out his phone. He groans, and Roxas immediately understands it's an impatient text from Olette. "I gotta go," Pence sighs, "but hopefully I'll see you sometime later, if possible."
  He gives Roxas another peck and quickly jogs out of sight. Still flushed, Roxas takes a moment to bask in the long-lost sense of serenity he thought was gone forever. After a peaceful moment, he begins his stroll through the Sandlot; feeling good enough to walk rather than skateboard. He's ready to enjoy the rest of this day, knowing it won't last, as he savors every last feeling of harmony.
  Stopping near the entrance to the Back Alley, he takes a moment to reflect. He mulls over his plans to leave, his newfound feelings for Pence, and the strange events that have seemed to follow him lately. It's all slightly bizarre, and he put into question the worth of his plan: skip senior year, flee to Dusk City, make some insane munny, go to the college of his dreams, and finally be free of Twilight Town's tyranny. The overview seems flawed, but each intricate detail he's placed between the lines over six years is nearly flawless. Work odd jobs every other day plus all weekend, save all money under mattress, buy a laptop that no one knows about, get a basic Wifi plan, take online credits to skip senior year, get a prepaid cell phone no one knows about, pack old clothing items for a quick leave, save all upcoming or current train schedules plus maps, make a keepsake box no one knows about, prepare a leaving note—
  He feels a slight drop in his stomach. Saying goodbye shouldn't be that easy; not even to his father, and especially not to his friends. He planned to make each note simple and relatively heartfelt, so as not to come off as a suicide note or something of the like. It had to be vague, so no one would go looking for him, but reassuring, to leave room for hope on his return. Roxas was never a writer… most attempts led to him making some sort of origami figure with his writing material. While it channeled his frustration, it still didn't get the job done.

  Roxas wonders whether he should write a collective letter for all three of his friends, or one for each individual friend. What would he say to Hayner? Would he chastise him for his dumb actions, or reflect on their better times? He would probably never leave such bitter words for such a great friend, so the latter seems ideal. What would he say to Olette? Would he divulge Hayner's infidelity? Definitely not, Roxas thinks, I don't want to leave them in such a bad condition… they'd probably think I'm even worse of a friend than they might already be thinking. Then there's Pence… going about the odd little "fling" they had would be the most difficult of all to write about. He didn't even know where to start—

  A cold chill runs down Roxas' spine, and a bad feeling pools in his gut.

  Suddenly, he feels a tight grip on the back of his head—strong fingers ensnaring his hair—and a hand presses against his mouth just as he yelps. Roxas is reeled back, and he watches in vain as his vision accelerates toward the wall closest to him.

  After an explosion of pain in his skull, everything goes black.

Exeunt

A/N: I know the whole Pence and Roxas thing is a bit bizarre, but chill out and try to imagine Pence as this tall, attractive dude who doesn't look too bad with Roxas. Better? No? Well, shit. At least you're through it now right?

Final note for any confused readers: This IS a SoRoku fanfiction! At this point in time, I'm focusing on character and story development, so when you get to the point where Sora and Roxas meet, the plot focus can remain on them.
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Happy Halloween!
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Please favorite, follow, and review! I will also happily take positive constructive criticism! I am always looking to improve my writing. Thank you!
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The Night