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The Long Weekend Away	By : neonabsinthe Category: Kingdom Hearts > Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 3950 -:- 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
- 6
- 7
- 8
Warnings: AU. Fairly OOC and cliché (with Rich Popular Riku and Shy Sora. But hopefully the actual storyline is less cliché). A lotta swearing, fluff alert and drug use; adult situations in later chapters.
Pairings: Riku x Sora, onesided Riku x Kairi, and other minor pairings – some which may become major in later chapters. Dunno yet.
A/N: I can’t believe I still have readers. Wow, what a miracle. Thanks, guys, for sticking with me. Sorry about my crappy updating skills and worse grammar. (potential betas PM me? My last beta attempt was pretty tragic, but this time I’ve decided I really really need one.)
So, sephiroth is so OOC it’s funny. Also, I completely guessed the French in this chapter (damn Lumiere for being a French candle thing). I don’t speak French, have never done any French and the extent of my French knowledge is limited to ‘oui oui’, ‘croissant’ and ‘escargot’. So any Frenchies out there, correct my online translator phrases please!!
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The Long Weekend Away
By: neon-absinthe
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-- PART I: Chapter 6 – But Be the Serpent Under’t –-
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Kairi’s manor was just as impressive as the Samuel estate of Hollow Bastion. Sora vaguely wondered if it had a grand name too.
As their limo joined the steadily moving line of black limosines up a long beautifully crafted driveway, Sora fidgeted uncomfortably in his new expensive custom tailored clothes that Riku purchased for him only days before. Riku had said that it would only a private dinner party, but it seemed his definition of ‘dinner party’ was vastly different from Sora’s own definition of the same term.
It was like the red carpet situation Sora had seen the rare few times on TV.
A long line of fancy limousines and elegant cars lined up to the bottom of a massive four columned entrance steps. As uniformed valets and attendants opened the car doors, the beautifully dressed high-class and influential people stepped out, with the attendants helping out the women and bowing to the men. They trailed one after another, like a procession of swans, up the steps and in through those large grand doors and into the building.
Sora swallowed nervously, feeling so incredibly out of place. How on earth was he meant to blend in here?
The brunet looked over at Riku, who was sitting quietly beside him, staring dazed out the limousine’s tinted windows. Riku would have no problem fitting in, he thought, or rather, he would outshine them all. Dressed in his own designer outfit of dark form-fitting tailored pants, fluid clean cut shirt and a dark grey-green jacket that accentuated his eyes, Riku looked gorgeous as usual – like a pin up model having stepped off the pages of a high fashion magazine.
Sensing his stare, the older teen turned to face his brunet lover, aquamarine eyes glowing with warmth.
“Ready for your first high-society event?” he teased, reaching over to grasp Sora’s hand.
“I think so?” Sora guessed, tracing the lines of Riku’s hands absently. Then shook his head. “Actually, I don’t know. I take it back, I don’t think so. What is it…like?”
“You’ll see,” Riku replied enigmatically.
“Seriously, Riku,” Sora whined, squeezing the sculpted pale hand he was holding onto. “I don’t know anything about these things. What if I make a fool of myself?”
“You won’t,” the silver-haired said matter-of-factly. “It’s just dinner, followed by some drinks and live entertainment. There could be some dancing involved too, but I’m not sure.”
Was he serious? Was that actually meant to calm him?
“Dancing!” Sora looked mortified. “Riku, I can’t dance. I’ll be horrible! I’ll trip over my own feet and fall on all important people and send them all falling down like a row of dominos!” Sora hadn’t even registered Riku’s laughing. “And then they’ll all get really angry and come after me with their scary bodyguard people and then I’ll have to change my name and possibly wear a wig for the rest of my life!” until he snapped out of his nightmare and looked at the older boy. His boyfriend’s aqua eyes twinkled with laughter, his lips drawn up in mirth.
“I hope it’s a blonde wig – that’d be kind of hot.”
Sora pouted menacingly, or as menacing as a pout could be, at him.
“Sora, you’re overreacting again,” the older teen sniggered. “Nothing that extreme is ever going to happened, I promise. In fact,” with a mischievous smirk, Riku suddenly yanked Sora towards him until they were almost nose to nose. “When people do start to dance,” Sora could feel every warm breath Riku took entwined with his own, “then you can be sure I’ll be having at least one dance with you. And nothing weird is going to happen,” he murmured softly to Sora’s lips, before settling back down in the seat.
“Riku,” Sora whimpered, trying to ignore his sudden woozy feeling and shortness of breath. “You’re ruining my concentration.”
The silver-haired responded with a chuckle. “How much concentration do you need to go to dinner?”
“Obviously a lot if dancing could be involved,” he retorted.
“Fair enough.” Riku’s brilliant green eyes softened, and he lightly drew swirling shapes onto the tips of Sora’s fingers. “But seriously, if you really hate it, we can leave. I’ve been to enough of these things to want to stay anyway. This is more just a formality to both my parents and Kairi’s parents.”
“And to Kairi?” Sora asked before he could bite the words back.
Riku just arched a brow and smiled. “Kairi hates these almost as much as I do. But the daughter of the hostess can’t very well not turn up, now can she?”
“I suppose not,” Sora replied, feeling utterly ridiculous at the flash of giddiness he suddenly felt.
As their limousine came to a stop before the grand front steps of the Cobra manor, a waiting doorman stepped forward and held the limo door open for them as they walked up the steps to the front entrance. Directly inside the front hall, a young sandy-haired man standing behind a tall podium desk paused in his writing as soon as he saw the two approaching figures. Two intimidating sharply dressed men in black suits with ear pieces wired along the side of their necks stood silently on either side of the guest-list attendant, waiting to stop and discharge unwanted or uninvited guests.
“Le Jeune Monsieur Samuel,” the young man greeted warmly, not even bothering to check the list. “Bonsoir! How pleasant that you have arrived.” He had a distinct foreign accent. French.
“It’s nice to see you again, Lumière,” Riku acknowledged, giving him a friendly nod. “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”
“A year and a half to be exact,” the man in question replied with a silly grin. “Wherein the manor was extremely uneventful et ennuyeux without your and Mademoiselle Kairi’s antics.”
“I find that hard to believe. Kairi’s not exactly boring and tame, now is she,” he smiled.
The other man returned an equally secretive smile, sharing a small inside joke. “Ah, Monsieur. But two non-boring and non-tame people are worse than one.”
“You have me there, Lumière. By the way, this is Sora,” Riku quickly introduced.
“Hi,” Sora said shyly.
“Enchanté, Monsieur Sora. Any friend of Monsieur Riku is a friend of mine.”
“Acutally, Lumière, Sora’s my boyfriend,” Riku corrected him without any hesitation or shame. In fact, dare Sora detect that tone as pride?
The maître d’ seemed a little shocked at first, but it immediately melted away. “Ah, then you must be special, Monsieur Sora, non? Le Jeune Monsieur normally doesn’t have boyfriends.”
Sora just smiled.
“Shall I inform la Jeune Mademoiselle of your and your plus one’s arrival? La Jeune Mademoiselle did request I inform her.”
“No need, Lumière,” Riku dismissed. “I’ll just tell her myself.”
“As you wish.”
“Say,” the silver-haired suddenly spoke up, waving off the two attendants who had approached to take their jackets. “Has…uh…my brother arrived yet?”
The sandy-haired male quickly looked down and scanned his list.
“Samuel…Samuel…Samuel. Non, le autre Monsieur Samuel has not yet arrived,” he finally concluded.
Riku breathed what seemed to be a sigh of relief, but Sora couldn’t be sure. “Thank you, Lumière.”
“Je vous en prie.”
They turned into a long elegant corridor peppered with an old-Victorian style and continued towards the sounds of music and laughter. Their expensive hard-soled dress shoes barely made a noise on the Persian carpet. Sora’s eyes were glued, however, on the displays of interesting art pieces as as they passed them. There were painted portraits depicting faces of middle eastern descent – obviously from the same family. Sora concluded they were probably of the Cobra family, whose descent had married Kairi’s mother. There were also a large variety of interesting and more contemporary art forms of canvas pieces, statues and installations.
“Kairi’s mother is an avid art collector, you know,” he told him. “If you’re impressed by these, you should see the mini-museum she keeps somewhere in this place. From ceiling to ceiling packed full of them.”
“I can tell,” Sora breathed in awe, the artist in him singing with joy. “These pieces are beautiful.”
“Not all of them,” Riku disagreed. “There are some rather strange contemporary pieces in there. Like that sawed in half shark encased in glass.”
“A real shark?” Sora looked horrified.
“Straight from the sea. The artist, Damien Hirsch, bought it off the fisherman who caught it for 50,000.”
“That’s…horrible.”
“It’s still art. Besides, I think Ariel, or rather Mrs. Cobra-Spencer, only bought it was because it was an expensive piece,” his boyfriend added casually. “They’re all originals. Ariel is rather extravagant in her expenditures. It’s pretty easy to see where Kairi picked up her compulsive shopping habit,” he laughed.
Abruptly, a hand reached out and grabbed onto his sleeve, stopping him in his track. Riku turned around eyeing the hand, before his questioning gaze drifted to the brunet attached to it.
“Sora?”
His eyes were hidden under a curtain of dark chocolate locks, his lips set in a straight line.
“Riku,” the younger boy began, his voice quiet and hesitant. “About Kairi…”
“What about her?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.
“I…” he paused, brows furrowing. “It’s just that she…” Sora seemed unable to spit it out. And with a soft sigh, the boy gave up. “Never mind,” he murmured, shaking his head softly.
Riku lips dipped into a frown at his boyfriend’s strange behaviour. In fact, if he thought about it, Sora had been acting strange for the better part of this week. Riku had first put it down to him struggling to come to terms with a new environment, but now, he wasn’t so sure. He was about to say ask him when a flash of silver appeared in his periphery vision.
Sora immediately sensed it when Riku stiffened and followed his hard gaze down the lengthy corridor. A few newly arrived guests were also making their way up towards the ballroom. But it was easy to see what had caught his attention – the three figures right at the very end.
There was a deceptively slender man with baby blue eyes and short messy blond spikes that seemed nearly as wild and uncontrollable as his own. He seemed a little out of place and overshadowed by his two companions. On the other side was a taller, muscular dark-haired man dressed all in black. He had a cocky grin on his face, a glint of a silver stud in his ear and the barest traces of a tattoo crawling up the side of his neck. He looked strangely dangerous but welcoming at the same time.
Despite their unconventionality, it was the one in the middle that demanded the utmost attention. Tallest of the three, nearly a head taller than the blond, he was like a life force of his own. The air seemed to bend around him, like time stopped at his feet as the world watched with baited breaths, singing with cold tension. Dressed in an impeccably sharp black suit, the hints of underlying muscle whispered of strength and danger. His long silver hair, like a river of moonlight, cascaded down his back, swaying fluidly with his movements.
He was one of the most beautiful people Sora had ever seen.
But the most prominent of his striking features were those glowing green eyes. They were so eerily intelligent and cold; the reminded him of the stare of a panther playing with its prey before the inevitable final kill.
Sora shivered despite himself. Those types of eyes he knew very well.
“Fuck,” Riku swore under his breath, lips set in a grim line. His gaze never wavered from the tall approaching man. “I thought he said the bastard wasn’t here yet.”
The beautiful man drew nearer to them, taking long even strides. He stopped but a few feet before them, towering over their heads, even over Riku’s already tall stature.
A small wry smile played on the stranger’s lips.
“Riku,” he acknowledged, voice a deep baritone with the same velvety quality the younger silver-haired had at times.
Riku’s darkened turquoise eyes narrowed as emerald pupils glowed with amusement.
“Sephiroth,” he growled through his teeth after a terse pause. “When did you get here?”
“But barely a moment ago,” the man called Sephiroth replied. “We were merely two limousines behind yours.”
Sephiroth? That sounded familiar. Sora struggled to pinpoint where exactly he’s heard the name and why the man’s face seemed so familiar.
Suddenly it clicked.
The small hidden photograph on Riku’s shelf – the one of his family. Sephiroth was his elder brother.
Sephiroth’s cool gaze quickly swept over to Sora, making him feel incredibly exposed and vulnerable.
“I believe you have met my personal assistant and my body guard,” he stated, not asked.
“Several times,” Riku snapped back. And like an invisible switch, the younger Samuel turned off his hostility towards his brother, and turned on his charm. “It’s nice to see you again Mr. Strife, Mr. Fair.” He smiled amiably in turn to each.
The slender blond man returned a polite smile and a slight tip of the head. “Please, it’s Cloud.”
“Yeah, don’t be so formal,” the spiky black-haired one said good-naturedly. “Or you’ll be next in line after Seph at holding the title of having the fun-loving nature of an abyss. It’s a party, so lighten up, toots.”
Cloud sighed and shook his head. Sephiroth just observed them.
“It’s called being polite, Zack,” Riku grinned. “You should try it sometime.”
Zack laughed.
Sora would have smiled along with him if it wasn’t for the hard gaze Sephiroth had fixated on him. Those frightfully intelligent orbs of intense smouldering green bored deep into Sora’s eyes, trying to snatch wisps of his soul. He quickly let his gaze fall, unable to hold such an acute stare, inwardly shivering. All the while, the other man hadn’t even blinked.
“Perhaps, Riku, you should put those manners you boast of into good use,” Sephiroth’s deep rumble smoothly interjected, eyes still trained on the brunet.
Riku immediately gave the taller man a seething glare, but complied nonetheless.
“Sora,” he said shortly, gesturing to each as he went: “This is Zack Fair and Cloud Strife. And this,” he reluctantly turned to the final of the three, a sneer tainting his tone, “is my brother, Sephiroth.”
So he was right. It was Riku’s brother. No wonder the two looked so much alike, like snapshots of a person at various stages of his lifespan. Sephiroth would have been a splitting image of Riku at the same age.
“Hello,” Sora shyly replied. He had never been good at meeting new people. He was always too intimidated by the possibility that they might not like him.
But Sephiroth, it seemed, had no such problem.
“Of course,” the man drawled, lips quirked in amusement. “The ‘little lamb’ our prodigal son herded back with him.”
“He has a name, Sephiroth,” Riku warned him, clearly unamused.
“Pardon me,” the elder Samuel smirked, obviously not at all. “Sora,” he amended.
Riku almost rolled his eyes. He hated Sephiroth’s drawling arrogance and his stupid intimidation tactics. It was bright and sunny day when Sephiroth had moved out of their home and into his own private estate back during Riku’s pre-teen years.
Once again, Sephiroth changed the subject abruptly. “It does make me wonder,” he feigned ignorance though the twinkle in his eye told otherwise. “How long until Mother and Father return from their trip?”
Riku picked up the sarcasm immediately. “You already know that.”
“And so I do,” he agreed, unabashed. “But the question is, do you?”
The younger Samuel brother knew exactly what he was hinting at. It was something he, too, had been dreading since touching down in Radiant Garden International Airport.
Fucking Sephiroth and his stupid cryptic messages.
“Yeah. I do.” Riku’s snarling affirmation only further entertained silver-haired man.
“Then perhaps it is unnecessary for me to remind you,” the older brother lazily enunciated each word, savouring them as they rolled off his tongue, “that Mother and Father do not share your same sentiments for keeping lost pets.”
He cocked his head slightly, gaze calmly regarding them, waiting for Riku’s reaction. There was none other than the already present deadly glare.
Sephiroth merely smirked. Giving a mocking tip of the head, “Well, Alice, Nala and I will be sure to visit once Mother and Father have returned. So until then, little brother,” Sephiroth said. “I have business to attend to. Pleasant meeting you, Sora.”
Sephiroth swept past them strode purposefully towards the lit ballroom, his two personnel voicing goodbyes and flanked his sides. Sephiroth’s exits were just as dramatic as his entrances. Always.
His obnoxious elder brother was the personified thorn cutting into Riku’s side – the pinwheel needle designed to sting and curse the innocent princess. Or in this case, prince. Sephiroth knew exactly where to dig at Riku to make it hurt – his warning was completely unnecessary as Riku had already had that same situation run rampant over the stressed planes of his mind. He knew it was coming.
“Well there you have it,” Riku said from beside Sora, sarcasm gnarling his words. “My lovely brother.”
Sora nodded silently. At least, now he knew why Riku would choose to hide his family portrait so far back behind all the other picture frames. He obviously didn’t get along with his brother.
Riku sighed in frustration. “And just when you think he could actually show compassion,” he muttered quietly under his breath.
Sora turned to his companion, suddenly mindful of something else. “Riku,” he asked, a little puzzled. “What did Sephiroth mean about your paren–”
A clear ringing alerted to an incoming call. It was Kairi. Seeing as they were late, Riku would bet his foot that she’s calling to ask why he hasn’t arrived yet to save her from her boredom.
“One second, Sora,” Riku retrieved his phone, slide it open and pressed it to his ear in one fluid movement.
“Yeah?” he said into the mouthpiece. A moment of silence while the caller spoke. “We’re here. In the entrance hall.” He paused again. “Alright,” and hung up as swiftly as he answered.
“Come on,” Riku grabbed his hand, all traces of his previous frown had been wiped away by a wide sunny smile. “The others are waiting for us,” he explained, and proceeded to drag a dazed Sora through the soirée.
“So were you going to ask?”
Sora thought for a moment. “Uh…I forgot.”
“Silly."
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--
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“Wrong fork,” Selphie whispered quietly out of the corner of her mouth, trying to be discreet but her flamboyant impersonation of James Bond sneaking around the enemy lair only making the entire situation as noticeable as possible. Even to the extent of drawing a few glances at her odd behaviour.
Sora flushed and put down the fork he held in his hand, reaching for the one next to it.
“That one’s not the right one either,” the green-eyed girl corrected him again as his hands hovered uncertainly above another one. “It’s the one closest to the plate.”
“Thanks,” Sora whispered back with relief, though he was feeling completely mortified at such a simple thing as using the wrong fork. Why? Because it was so natural for almost everyone else, he simply stood out.
“No problem,” she grinned kindly. “Those stupid cutlery rules are a pain, aren’t they? About as useful as a trapdoor on a life boat.”
Sora looked at her weirdly. “A trapdoor on a life boat?”
“Yeah. You know, because that would just defeat the purpose of a life boat. Because then, water would leak into via the trapdoor and flood and sink the lifeboat. And then the survivors in the lifeboat, provided they couldn’t swim, would then drown and die. It’s a metaphor, you see.”
“I get it,” Sora assured her. “I’ve never heard that one before. Someone I knew would used to say ‘a snooze button on a smoke alarm’.”
“Ha!” Selphie laughed. “That’s pretty useless too. Like a poopie-flavoured lollypop,” she added. “But I think I stole that from a movie.”
Sora made a disgusted face at the thought, making Selphie choke in a very un-ladylike manner on her champagne. However, as soon as Sora’s eyes suddenly darkened, Selphie also stopped smiling. Following his sightline across the long table, Selphie spied Riku. Sitting next to Kairi. But of course, what else would it be?
“You know what else is useless,” she asked him, a little more seriously now. Sora briefly tore his eyes away to face her. “Seating arrangements at dinner parties. As long as everyone finds a place at the table and is served in the end, it shouldn’t matter if you didn’t sit where your guest card says, should it?”
The corners of Sora’s lips lifted into a small smile. Glancing at the card with his name by his water glass, to the two cards propped up across the table, “Yeah,” he agreed. “You’re right, they really are.” Turning to her, “You know, you’re really nice, Selphie.”
Selphie was almost taken aback by the earnest compliment. Who the hell in this day and age actually genuinely say such things without either to fish for compliments or want something in return?
“What? Did I not come across nice in the first place?”
The brunet immediately became extremely flustered. “No!” he squeaked. “That’s not what I meant. Of course you came acro-”
“Whoa,” the green-eyed girl laughed. “Chill, maestro. I was only kidding.”
“Oh,” Sora blushed.
“But seriously, Sora. Compliments like that is only going to serve to make me blush,” she teased.
Even before this, Selphie had known almost immediately what was happening.
And they called her unperceptive, she thought with a self-satisfied smirk.
It was fairly obvious when Kairi had spent the entire week taking up Riku’s time with useless, trivial things, even more so than when they used to go out. Such as only an hour earlier when she called Riku ask where he was, even though the silver-haired barely late. And now with this, it was truly a wonder that Riku, as intelligent as he was, hadn’t picked it up yet.
Kairi had maintained it was a simple mistake on the part of their catering staff. That they had misplaced the guest cards wrongly at the table according to the original seating arrangements. Sora, the redhead had asserted, was meant to be placed next to Riku. But for some strange reason, the brunet’s name card had mysteriously appeared on the opposite side of the table, while Riku and hers were placed side by side, boxed in by the other guests. Tidus suggested that maybe he should ask the Braskas to move down a seat so Sora could be next to his date, but Kairi held that it was too late. The guests had already seated and it would be improper to move them for such a small thing, as it would involve moving the entire length of their side of the long hall-length dinner table.
And logically, Kairi was speaking the truth. But Selphie knew better. After all, Selphie had seen many of the manipulations and cruelties Kairi was capable of when she felt threatened in any sense of the word.
“What you’re doing is kind of mean, Kairi,” Selphie said quietly in the redhead’s ear after dinner had ended and the guests retired to the other rooms for socialising and live entertainment.
Kairi paused in what she was doing and calmly turned her head to face the brunette girl. Her gaze was still and unreadable. “And what am I doing?”
“Trying to break up Riku and Sora,” Selphie responded matter-of-factly. “Riku actually seems really happy with him, you know. You shouldn’t be interfering with his love life.”
Kairi didn’t show any sign of recognition or response that she heard her.
“Kairi,” the brunette continued in a low whisper. “If you ask me, you’ve already been down that road with Riku. Very far down. Don’t you think it’s time to let it go? To move on?–”
“Don’t!” Kairi’s furious hiss startled Selphie into clamping her mouth shut. The redhead’s dark blue eyes glowed lividly,“talk about that night like you know anything about what really happened. Don’t assume you understand even a slight part of it.”
“Maybe you should just tell me,” the green-eyed girl baited her. “It’s easier than us guessing.”
But Kairi’s rage had already disappeared as abruptly as it came, like candle snuffed out by a breath. Her calm composure was locked back into place.
Kairi turned and regarded Selphie coolly, the length of her stare made Selphie want to fidget uncomfortable, if only to disrupt the unbreathable tension. The redhead had never used her intimidation on her before, and now she realised why so many were reluctant to go up against Kairi Spencer. Those eyes, they were really very scary.
“I don’t ever recall asking for your opinion,” the socialite remarked. “Perhaps you should also stop interfering with other people’s personal lives, Selphie.” Kairi turned back to the party. “You don’t want to be a hypocrite, do you?”
Selphie felt taken aback. Since when did Kairi become so cruel to her own friends? Especially when she had the redhead girl’s best interest at heart.
The fawn-haired teen decided to leave Kairi to her brooding. Perhaps in time she’s realise what a fool she was being. But Selphie highly doubted that.
It seemed sometimes Riku brought out the best in Kairi. But other times, he brought out the worst.

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Gosh, Sora didn’t feel so well.
Duck liver, snails and congealed pig blood tended to do that to your stomach.
But they had such pretty names. Names you’d never pick for what the dish was actually made out of. Sora swore it was all a conspiracy. Even bigger than the Humpty Dumpty conspiracy where the King’s horses and men just happened to not be able to put him back together again. For some unknown reason, the chefs were plotting against him.
‘Foie Gras’ Selphie had called it. At least he thinks that was what she said.
It was even served so beautifully.
The smartly dressed waiters had entered in a perfect line, placing and replacing their food with the next dish on the course menu. Sora had been almost salivating when the waiter placed an absolutely ravishingly delicious-smelling dish down in front of him. It was a few pieces of tenderly browned slices of…something…arranged neatly at the centre of the large square black plate, drizzled with a light brown sauce and garnished rosemary and some other herbs Sora had never seen before, let alone know the name of. Granted, it was a very small dish for such a large plate, but he had figured that restricting the portions was how they could go through all those courses on the menu without their stomaches exploding from an overload of fancy haute cuisine (Selphie’s words).
Sora had hardly cared anyway; he was so hungry. In a flash, a knife and fork were tightly grasped in his hands (the right ones this time, mind you) and he was already cutting off a piece of the meat and shovelling it in his mouth. It had had a strangely chewy consistency, but he quite liked it. It was lovely and tender and the sauce complimented the taste very well. Sora had been about to go in for seconds when Selphie spoke those fateful words.
“How’s the liver?” she had asked casually. “You certainly seem to be enjoying it.”
Well that had certainly made Sora pause in his beastly attack of the meat. “What?” he had asked dumbfounded, suddenly the taste of the dish was turning sour in his mouth. “S-say what now?”
“I asked you how the liver was,” she had repeated, gesturing to the plate in front of him, unaware of his worsening thoughts. “I’m a vegetarian, you know. So I can’t eat it.”
“W-“ the words seemed to stick to the sides of his mouth. “What do you mean duck’s liver?” Sora had swallowed. “I thought you said it was called…um…Fwaa Graa.”
“It is,” the brunette had explained. “It’s a classic French dish of goose liver marinated in cognac.” At Sora’s sudden pale face, his fork cluttering to the table, Selphie suddenly realised what had happened. After all, there was a reason delicacies were called delicacies and why acquired tastes weren’t for everybody.
“You…didn’t know it was goose liver, did you?” she finally guessed.
Sora shook his head numbly.
Selphie pulled a guilty face. Muttering under her voice, speaking to herself, “I guess you also shouldn’t have had the escargot or black pudding.”
Sora hadn’t even wanted to know what those were.
“If it makes you feel better, everyone tells me they all just taste like chicken. So it’s not like they taste gross or anything.”
Yeah. Chicken. Chicken marinated in intestines.
And now Sora was struggling to find the nearest toilet so he could gain some of his composure or to throw up if he needed to. After all, those glossy mirror-like floors and beautiful traditional carpets were not made to be vomit containers.
And still, he lied to himself about the other reason, the more prevalent reason as to why he chose to run out of the ballroom, leaving all the happily chatting people behind, in search of a bathroom he didn’t really need.
He was just sick of seeing them being so perfect around each other, for each other.
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Kairi looked unimpressed. A bad sign. The muscular redhead blitzball captain turned on a little more of his charm.
“Did I ever tell ya tha’ ya the most beautiful girl I know? Not t’ mention the most intelligent, witty, determined…”
Completely tuned out of what he was actually saying, Kairi sneered at Wakka’s pathetic attempts to talk his way out of this.
“Ya know wha’?” his paused, countenance suddenly serious, “I’m just goin’ ta say it. I think I love you, Kairi,” he slowly leaned in with smouldering eyes, unconsciously licking his lips.
“Oh my god!” the redhead sputtered in frustration, vehemently pushing the blitzball player away, ignoring Selphie’s laughter. “I can’t believe you would get this high at my mother’s dinner function. This is getting way out of control, Wakka!”
“Wha’?” the other teen cried, countenance doing a complete one-eighty from the seducing one only a second ago, “O’ course I’m not fuckin’ high! I’m deeply offended by your suggestion, ya?”
One look into Wakka’s rapidly dilating, unfocused pupils and even a four year old would be able to tell he was lying. “I can practically smell the powder on you nostril, you junkie,” she hissed.
Wakka brown eyes widened comically and immediately began wiping his nostrils in a hazardous jerking manner, completely missing the fact that Kairi didn’t mean it literally. He suddenly stopped and brought his hand up to his face, intently inspecting his fingers like an old man without his glasses would squint at the morning paper. After a long while, he suddenly smiled and let out a relieved chuckle.
“Wha’ you talkin’ about,” Wakka laughed. “There’s nothin’ on my face, Kairi. Stop being such a kidder, girl. Ya so funny. Kairi, ya know you’re the funniest person I know, ya?”
Kairi rolled her eyes.
“Next time, wait until after we leave the house, ya?” She threw back at him mockingly. “Now try not to do anything stupid. We’ll leave soon enough, okay?”
Kairi quickly fixed his slightly crooked tie and straightened his hair, unconsciously playing of a girlfriend though it was not at all her intention. What it did earn her were some poisonous glares from the two model-esque girls, one blond and one brunette, who were hung off Wakka’s arm like leeches only moments earlier.
Who did they think they were, showing such hostility and disrespect towards her? Don’t those lower-class losers realise they were guests in her home?
Speaking loud enough for the two females to hear, and accompanied with a sly side glance at them to certify that it was them she was talking about, “Alright. Behave now, Wakka, and keep yourself and any whore you may come across under control.”
Wakka suddenly remembered the two girls he was pawing. “Oh, I’ll keep ‘em under control, alright.” And he left with a sly grin, escorting them out of the ballroom, in search of somewhere more private.
“Just not in my room,” Kairi called after him, before lightly rolled her deep blue eyes and turning back to Riku and Selphie and some of their other friends. “That man-whore,” she muttered fondly under her breath.
A gentle bump on her shoulder startled her into looking up. “I guess some things don’t change, do they,” came Riku’s amused whisper from her left, before he returned his attention to the conversation at hand. Kairi felt so much better after seeing his calm smile.
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--
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Well it definitely wasn’t the bathroom. Bathrooms usually don’t have expensive carpeting and a king-size four-poster bed and various other furniture and items around the room that look like they could feed an entire family for a full month. Each.
It seems Kairi’s manor was just as enormous, windy and confusing as Riku’s. Sora wondered if all the manors of these upper-society families were like this.
He safely concluded ‘yes’.
In his search to find the bathroom, it seems Sora had stumbled into an extravagantly lavished bedroom. And on look at the photos along the wall and desks, the brunet realised it wasn’t just anyone’s room. It was Kairi’s room.
Sora immediately berated himself at the surge of uneasiness and jealousy he felt. It was ridiculous. Kairi had done nothing wrong; it was all just in his stupid insecure head. Besides, Riku loved him.
Didn’t he?
Not taking that thought any further, Sora quietly padded across the carpet and closer to the walls, where along it hung photos and pictures and posters. He inspected them silently – a few famous faces of celebrities, some paintings and sketches (one particularly caught his attention – an ink drawing of an abstract rose with its petals withering away. It dated and signed with a K. Spencer. Who knew Kairi was such an artist. Her mother’s art fascination must have been genetic.) and photos of her friends. They were basically identical to the set of photo’s Riku had all over his room, but on closer inspection, there were simply more of Riku and Kairi, either smiling happily together or pulling crazy faces surrounded by friends. Sora pushed down a strange wallowing feeling. After all, they were best friends long before he entered the picture.
Glancing around over his shoulder, Sora suddenly felt paranoid at being caught in there. He knew he should stop what he was doing and leave before he invaded more of Kairi’s privacy, but something urged him to stay. He wanted to know more about her, and thereby, help him know more about Riku.
Even after all these months, Sora, sadly, still could not say he knew much about Riku at all. Well, that was a lie. Sora knew Riku – knew him deep down like the back of his hand. But all the events that led to develop his boyfriend’s personality and habits and other idiosyncrasies, he was kept completely in the dark. Riku rarely talked about his past and Sora never asked.
It was the little things he noticed amongst Kairi’s possessions that really did it. Like how Riku’s favourite band, Sebastian and the Atlantica Banshees, also had a large, well-stocked proportion on Kairi’s CD and records rack. Or the chain of Christmas and birthday cards from close friends hung down in an artistic display on a sheet of wire.
Sora tentatively reached forward to grab a hold of a simple, sophisticated one where he could see Riku’s handwriting on its interior. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to know what Riku had written, but so desperately wanted to know at the same time. Thankfully, the decision was made for him when he accidentally felt something knock to the floor from Kairi’s desk.
Sora involuntarily took a step back and looked down. It was a beautiful dark blue ring box encased with velvet – so simple and plain in its design, yet so stunningly masterful. But it was what was inside the open box which intrigued Sora the most. Glinting like a lighthouse beam out to the dark open sea, a beautiful diamond ring rested among black silk. The band was a strange shade of white gold that entwined so intricately around the slightly pink-tinged diamond, cut in the shape of a tear drop.
Sora bent down to pick it up and put it back onto Kairi’s desk, but hesitated. He felt entirely unworthy to touch such beautiful things, having never seen such refined objects before. His life was a far cry from what he had seen in Radiant Garden, and this ring was only another reminder of the vast gap between his and Riku’s life.
However, before his fingers could touch the velvet covering, Sora sharply turned his head in fear. He could hear rapid footsteps headed straight for this room from down the corridor.
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--
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Riku was getting nervous. Not that he didn’t enjoy spending time with his much-missed friends, it was just…where did Sora go?
The younger boy seemed to have disappeared right after dinner. Riku frowned when he realised he didn’t know when exactly his little brunet had left, or where he had gone to. Did he really pay so little attention to Sora? It certainly wasn’t like him. It just, the aqua-eyed teen had completely forgotten how much attention and participation Kairi required at all times, not that he minded, mind you. She was his best friend.
And especially since that stupid dinner table placement mix up, Riku found it hard to keep tabs on Sora. The last he had seen of his boyfriend, he was happily chatting to Selphie, so Riku just assumed Sora was having a good time. But now, looking across the chatting socialites to where Selphie was talking to some good-looking boys and Sora was nowhere to be seen, he felt much less certain.
“Tidus.”
The blond stopped his conversation with Scarlet, a girl from Tidus’ economics class whose family invested stringing into Riku’s family’s company, and made a sound of acknowledgement.
“Have you seen Sora?”
Tidus wrinkled his eyebrows. “No,” he replied slowly. “I thought you would know where he’d be. I think I saw him with Selphie earlier.”
“Well he’s not there anymore,” Riku frowned, and Tidus shrugged.
“So, who exactly is Sora anyway?” the Scarlet interjected with a sly glint in her eye that told him she had heard the all the stories and knew exactly who he was to him. Manipulative. Now Riku remembered why he dropped the beautiful blond girl after only a few weeks.
Riku ignored her and instead tried to think of where Sora could be. After all, how much trouble could the soft-spoken boy possibly get into in merely an hour?
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--
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Oh No! What to do?!
If he was caught there in Kairi’s room, of all rooms, what would they all think? What would Riku think? That he was there snooping through the hostess’ and ex-girfriend’s bedroom, assessing personal photographs and touching expensive rings? Like a stalker? Or an insane jealous lover?
Sora’s breathing increased sharply and his heart rate went through the roof and he frantically looked around the room for places to hide. For such a large space, there weren’t a lot of places for a boy lost on the way to the bathroom to conceal himself.
In the walk in closet? No, it’s on the other side and they’ll see me.
Under the bed? No, too obvious.
Behind the ornamental vase on the pedestal? So they can see a quivering mass of spiky hair over the top?
Behind the curtains? Is your brain even turned on today, Sora?
Looking to his right, Sora saw an open door. Of course! The bathroom.
Making a quick dash over to the bathroom as silently as he could to keep his shoes shuffling on the carpet or polished floor surfaces, Sora threw himself into the large en-suite, thanking God for inventing private bathrooms.
Sora held his breath as his eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting of the en-suite. He could barely make out the large pristine Jacuzzi tub and marble-topped vanity and sink. He was careful to sit in the shadow just by the door, and not in the light streaming from the bedroom as footsteps stepped into the other room.
“Hm?” He could hear the intruding person, a woman, making a surprised sound.
Sora slowly edged himself to the edge of the door frame until half a brilliant blue eye peeked out.
It was a maid, and not Kairi herself, which is what he had feared. Sora let out a small sigh of relief at that thought.
The maid crossed the room, and pulled shut the long silky curtains and straightened the sheets on the bed. She then did another quick scan of the room before shrugging to herself. Flicking the lights off and closing the door softly behind her, she left as quickly as she came.
And the world plunged into darkness.
Dark.
Sora couldn’t see a thing – the curtains were pulled shut and the door closed tightly, ejecting all light.
His heart sped up.
If he waved his hand out in front of his face, he couldn’t even detect the movement.
His breath turned ragged and detached.
Darkness. He hated the dark. The worst things happened when the world was deprived of light.
What was that?
Did he just hear something? Or was it his imagination playing up again?
A shiver tore through his body.
Gasp. Did something just move? Out of the corner of his eye?
A choked whimper escaped his lips.
Eyes. Eyes were suddenly everywhere. Beady, yellow and evil. Piercing right through to his very soul, coldly stopping his heart.
His small body trembled with fear.
Shrieks and cackles resounded in his ear, fading in and out of the room. Whispers of evil caressed him neck like the tip of a blade.
Frightened gasps sounded from him until they began escalating.
Bodiless shadows moved in and out of the darkness, getting closer with every crucial second.
Don’t! Stop! PLEASE!!
And closer, and closer.
GO-AWAY-ORI’LLSCR–
A terrified scream tore from his throat as Sora lost all sense of time and place. All he could see around him was a sea of monsters with horrifying gleaming yellow pupils and monstrous voices. And that familiar constricting feeling began rising in his chest.
…Please…
…Just leave me alone…
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A/N: Thanks for all your feedback so far. Keep the reviews coming.
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The Long Weekend Away