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City of Dying Dreams	By : SephirothsStalker Category: Kingdom Hearts > General Views: 3172 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Disclaimer: If I owned Kingdom Hearts, I�d be so damn busy making CGI porno of all the sexy men that I wouldn�t have time to write fan fiction. Unfortunately, I do not own it. *sobs*

Author�s Note: Once again I have dragged ass. I apologize.

Warning: Beware of dogs. They will chase you down and bite you in the ass, bringing you horrible images of violence, yaoi, profanity, OOCness, drug use, and downright seedy behavior. This story is rated R for a reason.

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Sora took a deep breath and drew himself up to his full height, willing himself to concentrate. The air was cool, giving him a slight chill in the black tank top and loose-fitting gray sweatpants he wore. He knew that would change soon enough.
The training room was like a second home to him now, one that he hated. It was an immense space, seeming to swallow him up while he went about his daily exercises, the Spartan white walls only adding to the sense of being trapped in a box. The floor was gymnasium-styled hardwood, polished often enough to teach him the benefits of a good pair of Nikes. Halogen bulbs were embedded in the vast ceiling, from which rings of varying lengths hung on strong chains. Half of the room was always empty, reserved for impromptu sparring. The other half had already been set up for him.
Today�s training activity consisted of several dozen sturdy wooden posts of differing heights, a few of which almost reached the ceiling. Atop each post sat bowls, cups, plates and even a few vases. Ansem must be getting a new shipment of dinnerware, he thought with disdain. But it could be worse. While not something he especially cared for, this particular exercise was better than some. He had done it often enough to know that it would not take more than an hour of his time.
He had woken up to another dreary morning, a sorry excuse for sunlight filtering in through his windows amidst the drizzle. After dressing with the slow reluctance of people who would rather stay in bed, he�d decided to just have toast for breakfast. The hotel was still relatively quiet, and he knew that other than Ansem, he was probably the only one awake. Upon passing the training room he�d noticed that it had already been set up for him, meaning that Cid was awake as well. Damn it all. Still, it was better to get it over and done with. He�d carefully selected his instrument, choosing from the weapons cabinet a smooth aluminum pole, that was roughly his own height.
Now he stood, drawing on the strength Ansem was so sure he possessed. When he felt composed he moved forward, all of his steps blending into one, his movement fluid. His thought processes seemed to fade as he leapt, lashing out with his weapon. A cup shattered, and he spun quickly away, avoiding the spray of porcelain. Still moving, he leapt again, and swiped, sending a plate against the wall, where it rebounded in fragments. The game consumed him, and he was soon moving without effort, his body simply doing what he required of it. Instinctively, he dodged to avoid the glass shards, using the posts for shields and leverage. As he eliminated all of the low targets, he set his sights on those that were harder to reach, bracing himself against the walls and posts to get the necessary height. His senses took in the sounds of the shattering dishes, the crunch of the fragments beneath his feet, the swirl of the air as he spun. The room no longer seemed cool to him, his skin perspiring with tiny beads of sweat, his hair flattening against his head. Still he moved, his mind faraway, as his will bent to the sole purpose of destroying every target in his path.
Now only one remained. Pacing, he absently smashed larger fragments of fallen dishes that littered the floor as he assessed that the target was the highest of them all. Without a thought as to the level of skill one must possess to perform such a feat, he turned and leapt at the wall, running, propelling himself higher. When he felt his shoes begin to slip, he jumped, rebounding off a post. Instantly, he lashed out with deadly accuracy, shattering the vase on impact. Gravity returned to him, and he dropped to the ground, bending his knees to lessen the shock.
Standing, he shook the shards of the vase from his hair and let out a breath. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, brushing away any remaining porcelain fragments. That was intense. Cid definitely raised the height on some of the targets since the last time. Still, he�d finished. He knew Ansem would be pleased. Yesterday, he�d seemed so pensive, simply telling Sora that he had a surprise for him. Sora was somewhat leery of any surprises from Ansem, knowing that the man was prone to odd moods. I wonder what it is, though. I hope it�s not another personal trainer, he thought, opening his eyes.
Proudly, he surveyed the damage. The usually immaculately clean floor was practically covered with white shards, some pieces etched in the gold trim and roses that had been on the dishes. The air even seemed to be misted with porcelain dust, and Sora instinctively covered his mouth and nose as he walked over to the cabinet, and returned his weapon.

Now for that toast, he thought. But the rumbling in his stomach corrected him. After a workout like that, no mere toast would do. Which meant, that instead of simply sneaking into the pantry, he would have to go to the dining room and order a meal. Sora hated doing that. All his life he�d had people to wait on him, and it irked him that even here, in the city where hardly anyone had anything, he still wanted for nothing. What was the point of leaving everything you had behind if it came right back to you in the end?
Sighing deeply, he flipped the light switch, and left the training room, padding silently down the corridor. The floor appeared to be completely deserted. Good. Sora did not care much for the thought of company. Back at his home, he had always been a gregarious and outgoing person, the sort of kid who loved people and was loved by them in return. But here, in this place, he did not want to socialize. It was as though all the time he was surrounded by shape shifters, creatures who changed from humans to poisonous snakes, depending on the light. It didn�t bode well to be friendly with those types, although he made exceptions every now and then.
His sole true friend in Ansem�s organization was an extremely profane weapons specialist named Cid. The man was short compared to most of the other males, but he showed no fear, instead going about his business with an offensiveness that was unbearable to even Ansem. Sora had liked Cid from the start, feeling gratified to find someone who seemed as out of place here as he felt. The fact that he seemed like the only person who didn�t kill for a living helped.
Now he passed by Cid�s room, pleased to see that the door was open. Without bothering to knock, he ducked inside, peering around. The apartment was as much a contradiction against the rest of the hotel as Cid himself. In the sitting room, tacky plaid couches took up most of the space, the rest occupied by full magazine racks that contained publications that most would not consider appropriate for display. There was a brightly-colored snow cone lamp in each corner, and the walls were covered with 50�s pin-up posters, the women smiling brightly in their conservative swimsuits. Instead of a radio, Cid had opted for a jukebox, a huge glowing machine, with tubes of multi-colored water running over it in a high arc. At the moment it was silent, but Sora knew that was just a temporary state. Down here in the subbasement, Cid could usually have his music as loud as he wanted, since he was the only member of Ansem�s organization that refused to live in one of the elegant apartments on the higher floors. Sora loved Cid�s room, although his own apartment was far larger. This was the only room in the entire hotel where he truly felt at peace.
He was about to sit down when the beaded curtain at the other end of the room rustled, and Cid stepped out, his wiry tattooed body clad only in a yellow towel that he held up at his slim hips. �What the fuck are you fucking doing, sneaking up on a man taking a shower?!�
Sora quickly averted his eyes and stifled a snicker. �Only you would shower with your apartment door wide open, Cid.� The man�s foul mouth never failed to amuse him.
Cid scratched at his disheveled blond hair and shrugged. �Why the fuck not? I figure, I�m the only safe one in this shithole. All you assassins are the ones that have enemies coming out the ass. Shit, even the goddamn whores have prices on their heads these days, but not me. What type of fucking loser would wanna kill a smalltime weapons dealer like me, anyway?�
Sora frowned. �I�m not an assassin, Cid.� he protested softly.
Cid snorted. �Give me a fucking break. You know damn well that�s what Ansem is training ya for, so don�t even bullshit me, kid.�

It�s true. Sora had known from the beginning what Ansem wanted from him, but he tried not to think about it. He had never even killed anybody before. Well� Except for that guy that grabbed me one time� But that was an accident, right? He vividly remembered the look on the man�s face, the shocked widening of the eyes, the sickening crunch, and finally the limp dead weight of the body. Then later that night, the searing pain of the tattoo needle as the mark of his servitude was etched into the back of his neck, Ansem telling him proudly that he had earned it, that he was destined for great things�
�Hey? What the fuck is your problem, kid? You don�t look so hot.� asked Cid in a tone that might�ve been concern.
Sora shook his head, scattering the images to all corners of his mind. �Nothing. I�m just starving, I guess. That was quite a workout you set up for me today.�
Cid shrugged again. �You�re the fucking dummy that went and did it right away. Nobody told your ass to do the shit first thing in the morning.� Feeling absolved of any guilt for Sora�s hunger, he went over to the jukebox and began to press buttons.
Sora rolled his eyes. �Whatever. Like I want to do that shit in the middle of the day� Oh come on, Cid! Did you have to pick that song?!� The incredibly annoying and catchy song �Yakety Yak� was playing loudly from the machine.
Cid grinned. �There�s nothing wrong with it. It�s shitloads better than that garbage all you young motherfuckers listen to nowadays. You�re all, bitches and hoes this, suck my dick or I�ll pop a cap in your ass that.�
�I don�t listen to that stuff!� Sora argued. He almost never listened to popular music, instead preferring the classical and orchestral songs he had grown up on. He was well aware that this was Cid�s way of driving him out so that he could get dressed. �Alright, you win. I�m going to go get something to eat.�
�I�ve got some fucking Jack Daniels in the fridge over there, if ya want.� Cid teased. He knew that Sora couldn�t stand alcohol, nor would Ansem allow him to have it. �Make yourself a liquor and cheese omelet, or some shit like that.�
Sora gave him the finger. �Yeah, sure Cid. I�ll jump right on it. See you, later.�
�See ya, kid.� Cid said, returning the obscene gesture with both hands. His towel began to slip threateningly towards the floor.
Sora quickly left the room, closing the door behind himself. He could hear Cid�s raucous laughter behind him, and couldn�t help grinning as he headed for the elevator. He glanced wistfully at the huge pantry as he passed, but his stomach�s rumbling had long since turned into a steady roar, and the only way toast would help was if he ate the entire loaf of bread. As the gleaming elevator doors came into sight, he found his mind returning to the day before and his humiliating capture on the streets. What was that jerk�s name? It was Riku something or other, I think?
Frowning, he decided to forgo the elevator ride, instead pushing open the double doors to the stairwell and starting up. It�s only two floors anyway, and I can always use more exercise, he argued. He knew the real reason he didn�t want to get in the elevator. The ride down had been unsettling enough, he didn�t want to try it again just yet. It would be altogether too easy to remember his encounter, the feeling of complete helplessness as he was pinned to the wood-paneled wall, the cold golden bars pressing against his back, the feel of lips against his own.

Oh, give me a break! Sora groaned and quickened his pace. He�d rather think about the disappointed lecture Ansem had given him after he�d recovered from that dirty trick Riku had pulled, tripping him like that. What a prick.

Ansem had talked to him for over an hour, questioning him relentlessly. �You know you could�ve completely dismantled Riku, so why didn�t you?�

Sora knew it was true. He could�ve easily beaten Riku, even in the alley. So why didn�t I? He thought that somewhere down deep inside, he wanted to lose, to prove to Ansem that he wasn�t the prodigy he thought he was. That he was unfit for this life. Maybe if he thought Sora was useless, Ansem would� What? Let me go home? Not that I want to. Sora would never go home again, he couldn�t bear it. Where would I go then? Anywhere but here, sounds nice. He sighed, knowing it was a dream. Ansem wasn�t the type to just let his employees up and quit, especially not the ones who had been branded.
Sora opened the doors to the stairwell and stepped out, into the blinding light of the hotel lobby. He blinked several times, hating the gaudy brightness of the chandeliers that were on, even when the curtains were open. Hurriedly, he crossed the floor, relieved to see that the place seemed deserted. He turned a corridor and saw the entrance to the dining room ahead. Disturbed, he paused for a moment, as the sound of voices floated back to him. Who the hell is awake at this hour? He shrugged, figuring it was probably just the kitchen staff chit-chatting, and walked into the dining room.
Even larger than his training room, the dining room yawned out before him. The golden walls and maroon carpet swallowed the senses, the cranberry curtains open to let in the dismal sunlight. The chandeliers were not nearly as elaborate as those of the hotel lobby, but they were close, spreading electric light so strong, it generated heat. The room was filled with cherry wood banquet tables, all of which except one, closed, the expensive dining chairs resting upside down on top of them, the silken tablecloths no doubt folded and stored someplace safe. At the head of the table that was set up, Ansem was seated, a large amount of food laid out before him. A few chairs down on his left, sat the one person Sora was not expecting to see.
Immediately, Ansem looked up, a pleased expression on his face. �Good morning, Sora. We�ve been expecting you.�
Riku turned around in his chair, his turquoise eyes fixing Sora with a look that made him feel like fleeing from the room. �It certainly took your ass long enough. Ansem wouldn�t let me eat until you got here. I was afraid I�d turn into a skeleton first.�
�Too late.� Sora snapped, his mind reeling. What the hell is he doing here?! He simply stood, unable to comprehend the situation.
�Excuse the hell out of me, if some of us have to work for a living, and don�t have the time to lay around and put on weight.� Riku snapped back. Ignoring Sora, he turned to his full plate and began to eat. It�s too early for this shit.

Ansem sighed, and motioned to Sora to come over. �Now gentlemen, let�s not create a scene. Sora, come. Sit beside me, so that I may explain all of this to you. I know that you must have a vast amount of questions that will need answering.�
Reluctantly, Sora obeyed, crossing the room and taking the chair to Ansem�s right. He was surprised to see that his favorite breakfast of bacon and eggs had already been set up for him, with cinnamon swirl French toast set beside it on a smaller plate. Hesitantly, he reached for one of the carafes of orange juice and poured himself a glass. He glanced at Ansem. He didn�t care much for people eating while he was trying to talk to them.
It was a rule Riku had either forgotten or was studiously ignoring, judging from the sounds he made as he inhaled his food.
Ansem nodded. �Feel free to indulge yourself, Sora. I was able to hear your exercise session this morning. I am quite sure that you must be famished.� His eyes slid to his left. �Riku, on the other hand, is merely a common barnyard swine.�
Riku made no sign that he had heard the insult, drinking a glass of apple juice with incredible relish. Whatever.

�Now, I suppose that you are doubtlessly wondering why Riku is still in the building?� Ansem began, his voice mellow.
Sora nodded, taking a sip of his juice. The thought has crossed my mind.

Ansem leaned back in his chair, apparently unconcerned with the plate of steak and eggs in front of him. �I assure you that I have the best intentions in this latest endeavor to turn you into the man whom you are destined to become, Sora.�

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, Sora thought, but said nothing.
Reading his silence, Ansem continued. �It will be hard for you to conceive at first, but I am confident that once you get used to Riku, you will understand my plans.�

Get used to him?! �You mean he�s not going away?� Sora asked, alarmed, his meal forgotten.
�Not for a long time.� Riku muttered. Shit, does he have to sound so upset about it? I�m not that bad! And why do I care anyway, I can�t stand him, either. �I�m your new teacher, kitten.�
�The hell you are!� Sora snapped, clenching his fork. I can�t believe this shit! �I�d rather jump off this roof!� he yelled
�That can be arranged!� Riku shouted back. Fuck you, too! �Jump, or be pushed, what�s the damn difference?�
�I wish you would lay another hand on me!� hissed Sora. �I�ll break it off, and shove it so far up your-�
�That will be quite enough.� Ansem raised a hand, signaling for peace. �Fighting will solve nothing, gentlemen.� He leaned forward in his chair, ensnaring both of them in his golden gaze. �This is not an idle request. Riku, you will instruct Sora in all those areas that I deem necessary. Sora, you will accept this instruction and learn from it. Now, as far as I am concerned, that is the end of the matter.� His tone invited no contestation.
Sora sighed in frustration, and crammed a forkful of scrambled cheese eggs into his mouth. He stared determinedly at his plate, refusing to meet either of their eyes. I can�t believe this! Ansem must be crazy, thinking that I can learn anything from that jerk! That must�ve been the surprise he had for me. Oh man� He crunched bitterly on his bacon, wishing that he was back in his room, away from this madness.
Riku gave up trying to eat his waffles, and leaned back in his chair, somewhat hurt by the vehemence of Sora�s protests. What�s the big deal? So, I�m probably not as polished and refined as his other instructors. Did he have to pitch such a fucking fit? He hated to admit it, but after he had gone home last night and said goodbye to his ramshackle apartment, he had stopped feeling angry about the situation. He had realized that Ansem was right.
Riku slept in a place that should probably be condemned, he lived off of hotdogs from street carts, and he paid his rent through stealing wallets. There was no use denying that those long cold nights would get a whole lot colder, and when they would, he�d be running back to his old habits, the truly dangerous ones. Drugs were expensive, they couldn�t be paid for in wallet change alone. For that kind of money, he�d have to resort to selling himself again, and that was not a price he was willing to pay. Under his ragged mattress, he�d kept a revolver with just one bullet. That was his medicine, for when those nights got a little too cold, and he found himself dialing the numbers of his old clients. Before he�d become a whore again, he�d take his medicine. It would be bitter, but it would cure what ailed him, permanently.
This job that Ansem had offered him was his only way out. He�d get to sleep in a warm bed, dine on the finest foods, and he�d never have to worry about money. Still� He wondered how long it�d be before his pride and self-disgust would drive him back to the streets from which he came. He never could stand this lifestyle for long. He�d grow sick of it eventually, and when he�d lost it all, his medicine would be there, waiting for him to come and take it. You can�t run away from yourself.

Riku sighed heavily. I�m feeling way too morbid today. It must be the weather. Fucking rain. Forgetting his company, he pulled a cigarette from his jeans pocket and lit it with his cheap blue lighter. It felt right against his lips, almost soothing.
Immediately Ansem snatched it from his mouth, his expression disapproving.
�Do you mind?!� Riku asked, exasperated. His body was practically crying out for the sweet caress of nicotine.
�Yes, I do indeed mind.� Ansem replied smoothly. He snubbed out the cigarette on the corner of Riku�s plate, and left it there with an air of finality. �While under my current employment, you will break this vile habit, and so many others.�
�Oh come on,� Riku complained. That wasn�t part of the deal. �I haven�t had a cigarette since yesterday!�
Ansem waved a hand, dismissing his plea. �Do not whine, Riku. It is not befitting of someone your age to caterwaul like a starving infant.� He frowned in distaste. �Besides, if God meant for man to smoke, He would have set him on fire.�
Riku rolled his eyes at the idea of a single religious thought entering Ansem�s twisted mind. �You believe in God?� he scoffed. �I find that hard to believe.�
Ansem bestowed a glance upon Riku that was insufferable in it�s patience and compassion. The look had �Shut up, you poor fool� written all over it, but what he said instead was, �Any thinking man should believe in God, Riku. For if nature has shown us anything, it�s that balance is key. Equal distribution lies at the root of every relationship.�
�And what does that have to do with whether or not there�s a God?� Riku asked, not following the train of thought.
To Riku�s surprise, it was Sora, not Ansem, who answered. �You can�t have absolute evil without having absolute goodness.� He spoke quietly, his eyes never leaving his plate.
Ansem smiled at him warmly, the expression seeming foreign on his usually emotionless face. �My thoughts precisely, Sora.�
Riku scowled, jealousy picking at his brain. Why should I be jealous? And who am I jealous of, anyway?! �So what makes you think that absolute evil exists, in the first place?� he argued, sure that there was a hole somewhere in such logic.
�It might have something to do with the fact that it�s standing right behind you.� Sephiroth answered, his voice low.
Riku felt each nerve in his body flare into brilliant awareness as he received the scare of his life. Staunchly, he remained seated, refusing to run or even turn to meet his fear. Dimly he noticed that Sora also seemed to be struggling with his brain for the right to remain at the table.
�Ah, speak of the Devil.� Ansem said with obvious amusement. �Good morning, Sephiroth. And how is the perfect incarnation of evil today?�
�Quite well.� Sephiroth answered, casting a glance around without seeming to do so. �Although, I must say that I am somewhat perplexed as to what my bastard child is doing here still? I didn�t think that you were in need of domestic help.�
Riku willed himself to remain calm and ignore Sephiroth�s taunts. Although his lifelong fear of the man helped to silence his lips, it was not the sole factor behind his compliance. Everything that fucker does, he does for a reaction. He would not give him the satisfaction. Not today, and not in front of Sora. If he won�t crack, then I won�t crack.

Ansem glanced sideways at Riku before returning his attention to the assassin. �Yes� Well, I had a rather innovative idea yesterday.�
Sephiroth pulled out a chair, and seated himself beside Ansem, his silver hair falling gracefully into place against his back. �Do tell.� he said, with obvious interest.

He�s only asking about it to humiliate me. Riku stifled a groan, and set to work on finishing his breakfast. The sooner I get out of here, the better.

Ansem folded his hands. �There is not much to tell, really. I merely decided that Riku might make a good companion for Sora. I think that he might be able to teach Sora many things.�
Sephiroth�s eyes lit up, and his voice positively radiated with sadistic glee. �Oh, I think that he has already started.�
Riku felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as he realized that Sephiroth was undoubtedly remembering the elevator incident. He�s going to tell Ansem! He shot a panicked look in Sora�s direction, only to find that Sora was studiously ignoring the entire lot of them, lost in his own world.
�Why do you say that?� questioned Ansem, his expression neutral.
�Only because I found the two youths in a rather compromising situation yesterday, when I was in need of the elevator. Alas, they had already put it to far better use.� Sephiroth sighed as though it were paining him to say such things. �No doubt, Riku�s naturally perverted nature enhanced by his prostitute past, reared it�s unsightly head. Although, I daresay that Sora did not so much as protest. He might have even initiated the encounter, for all I know. A fine teacher, indeed.�
Riku opened his mouth to argue, but the outraged roar that erupted from Sora stunned him back into silence. What the fuck?!

At some point between pretending he was alone in his room, and wishing sudden death upon everyone sitting at the table, Sora�s mind had been penetrated by Sephiroth�s insinuation. Not one to care for being talked about in any light, Sora�s temper had sparked, and from there his rage blew up. The next thing he knew, he was on his feet, bristling splendidly, and garnering the full attention of the three men. �How dare you! How fucking dare you!� he growled.
With deliberate slowness, Sephiroth rose to his feet, drawing himself up to his full height. �I beg your pardon?� His calmness was infuriating, and his voice was steeped in condescension as he spoke. �Are you perchance, talking to me?�
Riku shot a worried glance at Ansem, who simply observed, impassively. �Be still,� that look said. �Watch and see what will happen.�
Sora drew himself up to his own height, his blue eyes as hard as glass, meeting the challenge. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, and although he knew he couldn�t beat Sephiroth, he found that he was frighteningly eager to fight him. For the first time in his life, he was completely without fear, and it was a heady feeling. �I didn�t see any other cat-eyed assholes in here. So, I guess that I was talking to you after all.�
Sephiroth glanced at Ansem, who nodded slightly. That was all the permission he needed.
In the space of seconds, Sora found himself wrapped into some inconceivable position that sent pain throughout his entire body. One arm around his neck was like concrete, crushing his windpipe, as the other arm seemed to be folding him in two. Sephiroth�s hold on him was unbreakable, the pressure being applied to his bones unbearable. His breath came in gasps, and his vision clouded. He�s killing me! Instinctively, he lashed out, determined to free himself from that horrible grip. His own strength surprised him, and for one awful and beautiful moment, he was free.
Quickly, Sephiroth recovered from his momentary lapse, and enfolded Sora into a grip even more painful than before. Surprised that he broke loose� For even a second� But what of it� He is just a boy� He applied greater pressure to his captive, sinking with Sora to the carpet, unrelenting in his purpose.
Sora�s struggles weakened, his eyelids fluttering. I can�t even breathe. Every bone in his body felt like it was about to break, and consciousness was rapidly eluding him. Faintly he could hear Sephiroth talking to him, as though from someplace far away.
�The next time you take it into your putrid little adolescent mind to speak to me, I would suggest that you address me with all due respect.� Sephiroth�s voice lowered to an intimate whisper that was meant only for Sora�s ears. �After all, Ansem will not always be around to protect you. It would do you well, to remember that.� Just a boy�

Sephiroth�s words ringing coldly in his ears, Sora fell into darkness.
Immediately, Sephiroth released his hold, and there was a muffled thump as Sora�s body collapsed limply. Sephiroth stood, sweeping his hair back effortlessly, and returning to his seat. �Now, where were we?� He plucked a few errant fluffs of maroon lint off his black pants, as though nothing had happened.
Riku�s entire being was trembling with an emotion that he wasn�t sure how to define. It was sympathy for Sora�s humiliation. It was fear of Sephiroth�s power. It was disbelief that Ansem would allow such a thing to happen to the person who was supposedly his heir. Underneath all of it, there was an undeniable rage, fierce and protective in nature. How fucking dare he, indeed! His brain was rapidly sending signals to his vocal cords, that would send words to his lips, that would undoubtedly result in his ending up unconscious on the floor next to Sora. But if that was the way it was going to be, then so be it. A man has got to stand up for something. He opened his mouth, fully intent on letting out some foolish and rage-inducing insult to Sephiroth.
�Riku.� spoke Ansem, his voice firm. �Please escort Sora to his chambers.�
Riku blinked, his insults momentarily forgotten. �What?�
�Escort Sora back to his chambers.� Ansem insisted. �He very well can�t do it himself, now.�

I don�t get it. Riku stared at him for a long moment. You don�t want me to piss off Sephiroth and get fucked up. But why? Finally, he relented. No man could know what went on in Ansem�s brain. �Fine. Whatever.� He stood, and walked over to Sora, and kneeled onto the soft carpet. Gingerly, he tried to lift him as he rose to his feet, and realized that he could just barely do it. It would be a struggle, but he could make it, if he took the elevator. Fucking elevator. Fucking Sephiroth. He allowed himself to glare fully at the man, and was enraged further to see that the assassin didn�t even seem to notice.
Sephiroth had poured himself a large glass of grapefruit juice and was taking his sweet time, sipping at it, decidedly unconcerned with either Riku or the unconscious burden he now carried.
As Riku passed behind him, he felt a strong urge to slap the back of his head, and make him drink his juice through his nose. It would be a beautiful thing to witness. Yet, he knew that it would be the last thing he would witness, as not even Ansem could persuade Sephiroth to suffer such an indignity without bloodshed. He also knew that despite his relaxed appearance, Sephiroth was never truly off his guard. He would likely be expecting that sort of childish act, and Riku would merely end up with a broken wrist, and a face full of grapefruit juice for all his trouble. Fuck this entire world� Resigned, and disgusted with his uselessness, Riku carried Sora out of the room.
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City of Dying Dreams