Summary: AU. We moved to get away from the craziness of city life. But Mom didn’t know that moving us out to the suburbs would land me with the hot Roxas, his psycho twin who wants to castrate me, and their freaky man-parents. (AkuRoku RikuSora Zemyx &more)
Disclaimer: Notice how this is labelled ‘disclaimer’, not ‘claimer’. Yeah. I don’t own it.
Rant: This is waaaay overdue. Don’t kill me. Please.
I was kind of uninspired…not as a whole, just in this particular fandom. I got sucked back into the Harry Potter fandom for the first time since I turned eleven, and I got an influx of plot bunnies for that fandom. Not Kingdom Hearts.
IT’S NOT MY FAULT!! Blame my school friend. I don’t even know how she dragged me in… I was the one who got her hooked on fanfiction. e.e; The irony is rather unsettling…
If anything, you guys should thank my kid sister for this chapter. She’s my slavedriver. She kinda gave me The Look and was like, “Oi, when’s the next chapter of “It’s Like Hell” going to be written, fool?”
D8 She does The Look very well. It’s terrifying.
Notes: Yes. Denzel is incredibly OOC. D: I didn’t intend for him to be like that! He sort of took over and became…weird… DX He’s out of control, just like everyone else. (Just more so.)
There’s a quote in there from Stargate SG-1. I’ll L-O-L if anyone recognises and points it out. :D
ONE MORE THING!! There’s a poll on my profile that is rather related to this fic. If you’re interested in seeing some of the real places that have inspired and been recycled into the fic, you should really vote!
And I swear, I would've uploaded this yesterday, but FF was being retarded and wouldn't let me sign in. D:

Started: April 21, 2008.
Completed: May 18, 2008.

It’s Like Hell
(…except worse.)
The Bright Side of Suffering
(…oh, wait…there isn’t one.)

We moved in to Radiant Garden on Wednesday, July 2nd. I spent most of Thursday and Friday catching up on sleep—goddamn time difference—and unpacking. The only time I ever saw the light of day was when some brat with a ridiculously long name and a longer nose was going door to door, trying to sell tickets to some lame puppet show.

Anyway, over my first weekend living here, I learned a few things. Most of which I really could have done without.

The first thing I learned was something I probably—‘probably’ being the key word—could have figured out myself in due time. This was that Zexion was one of those study-holics. That made a lot of sense to me in a stereotypical sort of way. Anyway, Zexion, being the study-holic he is, was signed up for this FSAT course over the summer. (You know what the FSAT is, of course. The Fucking Scholastic Assessment Test.) I think the irony of Zexion’s concern over his grades was the fact that he didn’t even need to crack books to get the goddamn 800 in each section.

The second thing I learned was that Zexion’s adoptive mother, this hot chick who was definitely young enough to be his sister, worked insane hours at the local pub, The Seventh Heaven. And because both Zexion and she disappeared for a few hours every Saturday to tend to their responsibilities, this left Denzel, Zexion’s temperamental little adopted brother, alone in the house. And this is where the babysitter enters the picture.

The third thing I discovered was that there was a rather bizarre monopoly on the babysitting business in Radiant Garden. There were only two babysitters. There was the respectable one, Miss Poppins, but she was really more of a long-term nanny than anything else, and, from what I understand, she didn’t really stray far from the family she was hired for. The second babysitter was anything but legit. In fact, the second was as far away from legitimate as humanly possible.

Yeah. That’s right. The only other babysitter in this entire godforsaken neighbourhood was Demyx.

DEMYX.

There’s a lesson to be learned here, children. Do not take Demyx’s offers to hang out over the weekend. Ever.

It’s tragic, really. When Demyx popped up at our house asking if I wanted to go with him to work, I thought he was a godsend. Reno had already left to work at the Cave of Wonders, and Mom was trying to sucker me into doing all of the rest of the unpacking for her. (I’d already done my work, so as far as I was concerned, I was done.) So, I agreed and bolted to go with Demyx.

“It’s really great that you wanna help out,” Demyx was saying, a gleeful look on his face. He adjusted the rather loaded duffle bag he was carrying. “Most people don’t have the patience or energy to do what I do, and it’s a job that really wears me out, you know? It’s always so nice to get a spare hand, especially when—”

I sort of tuned his voice out at that point. I was a little preoccupied with suspiciously eyeing that duffle bag. My mom had always warned me that if I saw someone ‘unstable’ walking around with a duffle bag, I was to promptly turn around and get my ass to the other side of the country.

The other part of my mind, the less paranoid and more lewd part of my mind, was busy trying to figure out exactly what Demyx did as a job. The way he described it, it didn’t seem too implausible that he was some sort of prostitute. It would certainly wear him out, anyway…

Obviously, I wasn’t paying too much attention, so it sort of struck my by surprise when I finally noticed that we were standing on the violet stoop of Zexion’s house and ringing his doorbell. (Thankfully, it didn’t blast some freaky Disney song on us, like Roxas’. It started screeching Dies Irae from Verdi’s Requiem, instead.)

“Demyx, what are we doing?” I asked nervously. The ghostly doorbell choir was fucking scary.

Demyx just grinned that stupid shit-eating grin at me. “You’ll see!”

There was the muffled sound of footsteps behind the door, then the starch white door creaked open to reveal a rather wide blue eye. “Password?” a soft voice frantically hissed from behind the door.

Demyx assumed a very sombre expression. “The best reaction a moogle can synthesise is in your pants.”

…what?

The door was quickly flung open and a pale boy with wild brown hair roughly grabbed Demyx and me by the wrists and dragged us in before slamming the door behind him and throwing himself against it, his chest heaving with exertion as he panted heavily, eyes flickering from side to side.

“Demyx,” the boy croaked as he relaxed slightly against the door, “you’re two minutes late.” He looked almost crazed in his comment, his breath rattling in his lungs.

Demyx smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Denzel,” he said. “It’s just that I was picking up a friend.” He gestured toward me and Denzel promptly threw himself back against the door, his eyes wider than before and a look of utter shock on his face as he saw me. It was like he hadn’t noticed me before.

If Demyx noticed the berserk reaction, he benignly chose to ignore it. Instead, he smiled widely. “This is Axel,” he told Denzel. “Your brother might’ve mentioned him, he just moved in to Ursula’s house.”

Denzel nodded, gazing over at me from beneath his bruised eyelids with scrutiny. “That witch,” he mumbled appreciatively. He slowly peeled himself from the door and gave me a wondrous look. “Why would you move into her house?” he mused. “It’s cursed.”

I managed a small grin. “That’s what Ven said.”

“Ven Seelenfreund-Quirke?” Denzel asked as he turned back to make sure all of the locks on the door were tightly fastened.

I snorted. “The one and only.”

Denzel nodded knowledgeably. “Ven is an incredibly intelligent individual,” he told me while gazing suspiciously out the peephole. “It’s quite remarkable how few people know the things Ven knows.”

I felt like screaming. Of all the kids Demyx could have introduced me to, it just had to be one that worshiped the ground that psychopath Ven walked on.

Denzel led us from the front foyer into the kitchen, mumbling beneath his breath about how Ursula had never liked him and how she used to give him dirty looks and cackle obnoxiously at him.

“Good thing she’s gone, then,” I said encouragingly. Denzel just nodded wearily in agreement. Then he blinked and studied my black eye. “What happened to you?” he asked curiously.

“I got punched.” Duh.

Denzel nodded knowledgeably, and Demyx leaned in closer to take a better look at the nasty purple bruise. “Ven?” he and Demyx asked at the same time.

“No,” I said, feeling lame. “Roxas.”

Demyx looked surprised. “Roxas?”

“You got your ass handed to you by Roxas? Our Roxas?” Denzel said slowly, a large grin spreading across his face. “Now that’s just sad.”

I flushed and bit back the choice threats that were bubbling up in the back of my throat. “Shut up!” I said loudly, getting drowned out by the raucous laughter.

Their kitchen was a strange shade of lavender that reminded me of Easter eggs. Denzel, when he’d finally calmed down, opened the fridge and pulled two bottles of Wishing Well Water out and tossed them lifelessly at us. Demyx caught the curved throw easily, clearly anticipating the haphazard aim. I wasn’t so lucky. The bottle landed on my toe. I let out a very manly shriek.

Demyx gave me a concerned look. “You okay?”

I winced and picked up the bottle, smiling through gritted teeth. “Yeah…”

Denzel snickered into the back of his hand. Demyx gave him a reproving look and tugged him along into the living room, his duffle bag swaying dangerously as they moved. I followed after them, trying to disguise my limp as best as I could.

“You’ve done all your homework, right?” Demyx asked as he dropped his bag and started to unzip it.

“Of course!” Denzel said with a roll of his wide eyes as he collapsed on the purple-leather sofa. “Zexion would fillet me alive if I skived off my academics…” He snorted and nodded with his head toward the mantelpiece over the fireplace. It was laden with framed photographs, and Zexion’s silvery-blue hair and deep-set cobalt eyes were impossible to miss. Denzel studied a picture that featured a young Zexion, perhaps at age five or six, glaring malevolently into the camera. “He’s a scary guy when it comes to schoolwork,” Denzel remarked appreciatively.

“Is he really that smart?” I asked as I glanced at the ridiculous amount of framed certificates and trophies that had Zexion’s name printed neatly on them.

Demyx gave me a rather dry look. “Zex could become valedictorian without even going to school once. He knows everything. He aces stuff he’s never looked at. It’s inhuman.” He opened up the duffle bag and carefully unloaded a GameStation 2 with reverence, setting it in front of the television and busying himself with connecting all the necessary wires and cords, attaching one last wire to whatever was hiding inside his duffle bag.

Denzel straightened up in his seat on the couch and intently watched Demyx. “The usual, then?”

“You got it, man.”

I gave Demyx an anxious look. “The usual what?”

Demyx just grinned maniacally as he switched the GameStation and the television on and cranked up the volume. “You’ll see!”

Almost immediately, a loud, unearthly screeching wail penetrated the relative quiet of the room, and the photographs on the mantle began to treble unfaithfully as the horrible din was blasted from the television’s speakers.

I clapped my hands over my ears and shouted at the top of my lungs to Demyx, “Are you insane?! What the fuck is this game?!”

Demyx spun around and fixed me with a psychotically wide grin of uncanny euphoria. Strapped to his body and cradled loosely in his arms was a long, blue, plastic instrument the likes of which I could’ve never imagined in my most disturbing, elixir-induced dreams. The instrument was like some kind of giant, mutant guitar, standing taller than Demyx himself, its neck flowing into a gourd-shape.

Demyx pressed the differently shaded blue keys in quick succession, his fingers moving like blurs, each button giving way to a shriek more painful than the last. The noise was unbearable. But Demyx just kept standing there, hitting those goddamn blue buttons and grinning like a madman as his instrument-thing created sounds akin to dying cats in heat.

It took me a few minutes to realise that the horrific screeching of the instrument was actually a very liberal (to put it lightly) rendition of Utada Hikaru’s “Passion.”

Denzel and I just watched Demyx’s fingers fly across the instrument, me in dumb silence and Denzel with shouts of encouragement and the occasional cuss over a missed note. (Interestingly, when Demyx hit the wrong notes, instead of emitting the excruciating scream of the instrument, a sound was produced that sounded almost like real music.)

I didn’t even realise when the song had finished—I was slightly deaf after that performance. When I finally had a decent idea of what Demyx and Denzel were saying, I managed out a strangled, “What the fuck was that?”

Denzel looked surprised. “You guys don’t have this game in Junon?” His voice was slightly muffled to me and my apparent deafness. “We even knew about it in Sector Five! It’s, like, the most popular video game on the market after Castle Soul and those Super Bash Bros. games! You guys seriously didn’t have it?!”

I twitched. “No,” I said stiffly. “Midgar would’ve imploded a long time ago if we had that.” I gave them what probably looked vaguely like a homicidal glare. “What. Was. That.”

Demyx gave me an obvious look and tossed the hell-instrument at me. “It’s Sitar Hero! Duh!”

It’s by some miracle granted by the Big Lesbian Goddess above that I hadn’t completely lost my sense of hearing by the time Zexion returned, some two or three hours later.

Zexion strolled into the living room and gave me a half sympathetic, half amused look. “I imagine you were playing video games the whole day?” he asked as he tucked his house keys away into his pocket.

I stared blankly at him. “What?” I shouted. All sounds were kind of jumbled sounding and generally muffled—like someone had stuffed my ears with marshmallows. “What did you say?!”

Zexion looked a little annoyed, and I wisely chose to take my leave.

“Sorry, Demyx, but I have to get going!” I bellowed over the roar of Sitar Hero’s rendition of “A Whole New World”. Demyx didn’t even notice me shouting my lungs out; he was so entranced with hitting all those stupid buttons. “I’ll see you later!” I yelled, making an effort to avoid making eye contact with Zexion’s Death Glare. “Bye, Denzel! Bye, Demyx!” I turned to face Zexion. “Bye, Zexion!” I screamed in his face.

Zexion forcefully seized my wrist and threw me out on the stoop with strength that I wouldn’t have imagined a shrimpy person like him ever having. “Just get out of my house.”

I staggered away from the door and gazed at the house across the street—Roxas’ house—just in time to see the Seelenfreund-Quirke family trooping up their front walk to the house. I couldn’t see them perfectly, but it looked like they’d been dressed up nicely, like they’d just come back from church or something. From where I stood, I could just make out the matching blond heads of Roxas and Ven. One of them hung back to get the mail while the others walked in. I decided to take a risk and go over to talk to him, praying to the Big Lesbian Goddess that it was the more pleasant of the two.

When he noticed me approaching him, he turned slightly and gave me a small smile. “Hey, Axel,” he said as he riffled through the envelopes.

I smiled, feeling safer knowing I hadn’t stumbled across Satan Spawn. “Hey, Roxas,” I said jovially. “Haven’t seen you in a while. What’s up?”

(God, I sounded lame.)

Roxas shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, you know, the usual. Chores, surfing the internet, playing video games…” He briefly glanced up at me. “What about you?”

“I’ve been slaving away in the mountain of boxes my mom wants me to unpack,” I told him. “And then, today, I got stuck babysitting and going deaf with Demyx.”

He smirked and gave me a half-grin. “Poor baby,” he cooed.

I gave him the best indignant look I could muster without bursting into laughter. “No thanks to you,” I sniffed. “You weren’t here to save me from the horrors of Sitar Hero!”

Roxas scoffed. “What, am I your knight in shining armour, now?” he drawled sarcastically.

“Of course!” I exclaimed, then stopped and gave him a once-over. “No, wait, you’re not. You’re in a suit!”

And he was! It was a pretty casual one, but it was a suit, nonetheless! It was an impossibly dark shade of onyx, and the inside lining was made of a glossy white fabric.

Roxas flushed darkly and his eyes darted at me from beneath his spiked bangs. “Not. a. word,” he growled through gritted teeth.

I grinned widely, relishing in his embarrassment. “Roxas,” I purred in his ear, “why’re you so self-conscious?” I leered. “You look sexy.”

Roxas’ face turned purple and he elbowed me in the gut. I doubled over in pain and collapsed. He glowered at me. “You’re an idiot,” he muttered half-heartedly, cheeks still flushed as he made a show of turning away from me and continuing to look through the mail.

I pouted up at him. “You’re so mean!” I whined. “It was a compliment!”

The glare that he cast me effectively shut me up. After a moment of silence, Roxas shuffled the mail into a neat stack and peered down at me, the pink stain on his cheeks almost gone. “Sorry about that,” he said awkwardly, averting his gaze as he offered me a hand. I accepted it and he quickly hefted me to my feet.

I shrugged and brushed imaginary dirt off my ass. “You really need to lighten up, Roxas,” I said easily.

Roxas frowned. “Maybe you just need to be less of a pervert,” he said without malice.

I sniggered, and Roxas rolled his eyes, muttering ‘idiot’ beneath his breath, a resigned grin on his face.

“So, what’s with the monkey suit?” I asked.

He bowed his head a little and tapped a flat, circular black hat that had been expertly pinned over his spikes. “I was at synagogue,” he said obviously, straightening a little and handing the wad of mail at me so he could loosen his tie.

I gawked at him. “You’re Jewish?”

He rolled his eyes. “No,” he said sarcastically. “I’m obviously Hindu.”

I snorted.

The front door of Roxas’ house swung open and Ven hopped out, flying down the path on a skateboard. He slowed to a halt when he got to the mailbox. He’d already changed out of his formal clothes, and was looking relatively Roxas-like with a passive expression replacing his usual scowl. “What’re you doing here?” he asked me blankly.

I stared at him. “I live next door, you know,” I replied. “Do I need a reason?”

Ven gave me a slightly manic grin. “Do I need a reason to decapitate you limb from limb?” When I let out a slightly hysterical giggle in response, Ven scoffed and flicked a dandetiger seed off his black ‘GO, GO, YAOI TEAM!!’ t-shirt. I privately wondered where he’d gotten such a shirt. It only seemed like it was encouraging him.

Roxas snatched the mail back from me and handed his twin two envelopes and a subscription to the weekly Shounen Hop. Ven daintily accepted them and sniffed primly when he glanced at the envelopes. Without a word, he crumpled one into a ball and chucked it at me.

“What was that?” Roxas asked over my sputters of protest.

A sour expression twisted Ven’s face. “An apology letter from Terra,” he said, looking thoroughly disgusted. “That’s the sixth one this week.”

I picked the wrinkled envelope off the road and gave Ven a thoughtful look. “Well, you won’t have to deal with a seventh, right? There’s no post on Sunday,” I said reasonably.

Ven grunted in agreement and headed down the street, presumably for town. As he left, I could just make out the picture of a paddle—the infamous ‘yaoi paddle’—on his back, inscribed with the word ‘Seme’. A chill ran down my spine as I gawked and turned to Roxas and gawked some more.

“Is he seriously a seme?” I babbled, eyes wide with horror.

Roxas gave me an amused smirk. “With an attitude like that?” he snorted. “Please.” He rolled his eyes and started up the walkway to his house.

“That’s not a goddamn answer!” I roared as I sprinted after him. “Crazy people like that shouldn’t be allowed to top!”

“Relax, Axel,” Roxas snickered. “You’re overreacting. It’s not like he’ll be banging you, anyway—you’re not his type.”

“THANK GOD!”

“Anyway,” Roxas continued as he opened the door to his house and wiped his feet on the Mickey Mouse welcome mat, “He’s only a figurative seme.”

“Say what? I’m not savvy to the gay dialect.”

“Did you say ‘gay dialect’—never mind.” Roxas stifled a sigh. “It means he’s manipulative—you’ve probably noticed. He’s definitely in charge of the relationship between he and Terra, it’s just that he’s not…physically dominant.”

I gagged dramatically at the thought, which made Roxas snicker.

“It’s like my aunt says, he tops from the bottom.” Roxas opened the door wide and stepped into the house. From where I stood, I could just make out a life-size cardboard cut-out of Walt Disney standing reverently in the corner by a glass table with legs that had been crafted to make the table look like a large platter held high above Mickey Mouse’s head. The infernal mouse, of course, was dressed up like a cheerful waiter.

Tearing my eyes away from the table, I looked at Roxas hopefully. “D’you wanna maybe go hang out and egg the Mom-mobile or something?”

Roxas set the mail down on the table and gave me a slightly remorseful frown. “I’d really like to chill with you, man, but I can’t right now,” he said slowly, watching me warily. “I’ve got work…”

“Oh.” I wilted slightly, feeling bummed. Roxas stared at me for a split-second before visibly brightening.

“I finish at five, today. If you want, we could meet up somewhere and I’ll take you around the town or something.” Roxas cast his eyes up at the ceiling. “Just an idea.”

I beamed at him. “Sick! It’s a date!” I said giddily, striking a dramatic pose befitting of a lovestruck prince swooning over his dearly beloved. “Until then, my love, you must find a way to persevere without my Herculean body or my gloriously addictive presence! Do try not to break your sworn oath of fidelity during my absence! I shall be most crushed if I find you have been with another!” I articulated with a classic drop-to-the-knees-in-despair. “So crushed that I may ask the Demon-Child Ven to indulge in his desire to rid the zit of my existence from the pubescent face of life! Please,” I pleaded, staggering over to him on my knees. “Do not let me give the dragon that much satisfaction! Such is blasphemy, and I would certainly be condemned to hell!”

The corners of Roxas’ mouth twitched slightly in amusement and he shook his head with a small sigh. “I’ll try my best,” he drawled, resigned to his fate of enduring a few hours without my awesomely sexy charisma. He gazed down at me, tapping his cheek with a finger in contemplation. “Although,” he murmured, playing along, “I’d feel awful denying my adorable brother the pleasure of watching your head roll down the street…” He gave me a scrutinising stare before flashing a half-smile. “He will have to make due with watching Terra’s innards strewn out over the back porch.”

I broke character and gave Roxas a horrified look. “Dude,” I said, “that’s just fucking nasty.”

Roxas chuckled and yanked me to my feet. “Just get out of my house.”

“But, but, but,” I stammered as he shoved me out the door, “How am I supposed to reach you so we can meet up?” I demanded.

“I’ll just call you,” he said dryly. “I have your cell phone number,” he said slowly and clearly, as if talking to someone very stupid.

“Ohhh…”

“Yes, ‘ohhh’. Now get out.” He shut the door.

I blinked, staring at the freaky Mickey Mouse peephole for a minute or two before relenting and heading back over to my house. It was only when I went inside that I realised that I’d never given him my phone number.

I should’ve known there was something fishy about the whole scenario. Since when did my mom like to hang out with me for no reason? That evil bitch… She knew I would be trusting, too! She hasn’t pulled anything like this since I was four! God damn it!

D’you know what she did? She abandoned me, that’s what.

She goddamn abandoned me in a fricking Moonbucks.

WITH NO MONEY!

I mean, it’s shitty enough that she ditched me in a town I don’t know jack about, but, nooooo… She had to leave me with no money, too! How the hell am I supposed to buy my fucking coffee, now?!

I twitched and fidgeted and pulled on my hair. The smell of coffee was sooo gooood… God damn it, I was going to LOSE IT.

Do you comprehend the meaning of that phrase?

Lose it…it means go crazy, nuts, insane, bonzo, no longer in possession of one's faculties, three fries short of a happy meal…WACKO!

Damn that stupid bitch! Damn her to the seventh layer of biblical hell to suffer a hell of biblical proportions! I hate her so much, I hope she falls into a hole with bad acoustics and dies a slow, miserable death with no television and no cookies! I hope she becomes fat as a whale! She’ll be so huge that people will watch IMAX on her! She’ll—

Something tugged on my pant leg. “Excuse me, sir, but we’re going to have to ask you to either sit down quietly or to leave. We’d really rather the cops not get involved.”

I blinked and looked down. I was standing on top of a table, my hands thrust up in the air. A Moonbucks employee (my bad, a barista) was giving me an amused look from beneath his green visor.

I stared at him blankly, swallowed, and thickly asked, “Did I just say all that out loud?”

He laughed and nodded heartily. “‘Fraid so,” he said. “You better get down from there before people actually start to notice…”

“What? Whadd’ya mean ‘before they notice’?” I gazed out over the rest of the small café and was dumbstruck at what I saw. Nobody else in Moonbucks seemed to have noticed my random outburst and was still languidly sipping their iced coffees and fappuccinos. I climbed down off the table and continued gaping at the other customers.

The barista looked mildly confused by my surprise and his blue eyes flickered over to follow my own. A small grin played at his lips. “Surprised?” he asked jokingly.

“Incredibly,” I replied honestly. “Is everyone deaf or something?”

The barista snorted. “They might as well be,” he told me. “It’s just that we deal with explosions like yours pretty frequently. I guess people have just learned to ignore it all.”

I stared at him. “What do you mean—?”

He cut me off with a rather haggard look. “Have you ever heard of a kid named Ven Seelenfreund-Quirke?”

My eyes widened in understanding. “I just moved in next door to him.”

The Moonbucks barista sombrely took off his visor—releasing some slightly flattened dark spikes near the back of his head—and gave me a small bow. “You will be in my prayers,” he said gravely.

I twitched. “Thanks for the support.”

The barista frowned and shoved the visor back over his head and spiked hair. “You’ll need it,” he scoffed. “Trust me, man, I’ve known Ven since I was five—he pushed me into the sandbox at kindergarten—and he’s not someone to be on the wrong side of.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Take it from somebody who knows—” here, he paused and winced, “—from…repeated experience—that it should be a huge priority to remain on Ven’s good side. He’s actually a pretty damn valuable friend, but he’s also completely capable of being a thousand times more horrifying than your worst nightmare.”

I gave the guy a look of disbelief. “Somehow,” I said, “I can’t see Ven ever being someone worth keeping around.”

Strangely enough, the guy looked mildly annoyed when I said this. “Ven is actually one of the greatest guys I know,” he snapped. “He’s just…” he paused, apparently struggling for an accurate word to describe the enigma that was Ven. “…temperamental.”

“More like homicidal, if you ask me,” I told him as I seated myself. He looked like he wanted to argue, but relented, looking weary.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said with a bit of an exasperated nod. “I got my first white hair because of him, you know. He really causes a lot of stress for me…” Suddenly, his face screwed up like he was going to cry his eyes out. He collapsed into the chair opposite mine and looked fully prepared to brood as he was finally reduced to tears. “God,” he moaned as he tearfully buried his face in his arms, “Why do I even bother?!” he wailed. “It’s clear that he’s not putting the same effort forth as I am! Am I the only one who wants this to work or something? Why do I put myself through this?! Am I a masochist? Why can’t he be more affectionate? Why—”

Just like the now sobbing barista had done for me, another barista—a relatively young woman with wavy golden brown hair and concerned, pale blue eyes—gently laid a hand on his arm and opened her mouth to comfort him.

“Why the hell are you wasting your time whining, you sorry excuse for a man?!”

…maybe not.

The woman throttled the depressed barista by the neck, shrieking her head off at him. “What the hell are you doing, emo-bitch?! There are still customers to be served, goddamn it! Get off your ass!” She turned to regard me with a large, slightly crazed smile. “Sorry, sir,” she said to me, still strangling the teen. “You really shouldn’t have to see things like this.” She then turned back to her angst-ridden barista and continued to curse his lack of testosterone.

I watched in silent horror at the abuse. Then, the door to the washroom flew open, revealing Aqua standing in the doorway clad in the typical green Moonbucks uniform and a face mask, a toilet plunger raised triumphantly over her head.

“I’ve unclogged it!” she announced, to a smattering of applause from some bored looking customers. (This was probably the most interesting thing they’d seen all afternoon.) Then Aqua saw the chaos taking place at our table and leapt to the aid of the asphyxiating barista, throwing herself at the woman.

“Lightning!” she cried, and I instinctively looked out the window, confused. It was a perfectly sunny day. She dragged the woman away, leaving the dark-haired teen gasping for breath and very distraught.

“Aqua!” he moaned, eyes filled with tears, “Why didn’t you let Lightning kill me that time? Then I wouldn’t have to deal with this anymore!!”

The woman made another furious attempt to attack him, but Aqua held her back, glaring over at her co-worker. “Oh, stop it!” she reprimanded in a way befitting of an elementary school teacher. “We go through this every month, and you always end up pulling through. You’ll be fine.”

He sniffled and wiped at his tears. “You think so?” he asked in a tiny, hopeful voice.

The light-haired woman looked enraged. “Aqua, don’t encourage him!”

Aqua ignored her, tugged down her face mask, and smiled reassuringly. “I know so.”

A small, watery smile spread shyly across his face and he nodded happily. “Yeah!” he agreed. “You’re right, Aqua.” He sighed contentedly and leaned back in his seat. “I feel much better.”

The woman groaned and threw her hands up in aggravation. “Damn it!” She rounded on Aqua. “Aqua!” she roared, “I told you not to interfere anymore! I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to fire this bozo for years!”

The barista looked hurt. “But I’ve been working here since I was fifteen!”

“And he’s been dating Ven since he was fourteen,” Aqua muttered beneath her breath. “That means he’s been giving you plenty of opportunities, Lightning.”

I blinked. “Wait,” I said, and they all jumped, as if just noticing me for the first time. I pointed at the now-calm barista. “You’re dating Ven?”

He gave me a withering look. “We’re taking a break,” he hiccupped.

I stared at him. “So, you’re Terra?”

He nodded, his eyes flashing as he charged me and threw me against a wall. “You know my name? How do you know my name?” His breath quickened. “Was Ven talking about me? Was he… Was he—”

Aqua gently pried Terra’s iron grip off me and sat him back down in a chair. “Terra,” she said calmly, “Just breathe. He’ll be back before you know it. You know how he is.”

The woman scowled. “I know how Ven is, too,” she interjected. “And I know this’ll just happen all over again in a matter of weeks.” She stormed back to her post behind the counter. “It wouldn’t be the first time!” she shouted, pointing imperiously at Terra. “I’ve seen it happen over and over and over!”

Aqua frowned. “We’ve seen it just as many times as you have, Lightning, and they do always end up back together.”

“Only to break up again!”

“Could you two please stop talking about my love life?” Terra looked as though listening to these two women dissect his relationship was making him physically ill.

The woman waved him off then pointed an offending finger at me. “You!”

HOSHIT! She’s fucking scary!

I quaked under her intense glare. “Yes?” I squeaked. (Don’t give me that look, bitches! It was a manly squeak!)

“You’re the son of Kairi, aren’t you?” she boomed as she set about making coffee like a woman on fast-forward.

I nodded hastily. Holy crap! How’d she know that?!

She nodded slowly, eyeing me like a steak. “You’re a bit on the scrawny side,” she commented, not unkindly. “Kairi was rather thin as a child, too, but never this…gangly.” She studied me for another second before shrugging. “You get it from your father, I expect.” She handed me her finished cup. She gave me a knowing look. “You’ll be needing that.”

I stared at her. “Um, who are you?”

She looked taken aback, and someone in the corner of the café snorted into their coffee and yelped in surprise. “I’m Lightning,” she told me with a raised eyebrow. When she saw the expression on my face, she glowered. “My parents were hippies!” she barked. “All of us—both of my brothers and my sister and I—were named after obscure things in the sky.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, “But that still doesn’t explain how—” I was cut off by the chiming of my cell phone. It was a number I didn’t recognise. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was five o’clock. Something warm flared in my chest. It was Roxas!

I looked back up at them embarrassedly. “Sorry, I need to take this…”

Aqua didn’t seem to be listening. “Your ringtone is ‘Someday My Prince Will Come’?” A smirk was slowly forming on her face.

I glared at her and quickly flipped my phone open. “Hello?”

“Axel?”

I felt a small sense of unexplainable satisfaction. “Yeah, Roxas?”

Terra’s eyes widened. “Roxas? You’re talking to him?”

“So, you still up for gallivanting through the town?” he asked, sounding anxious.

“Yeah!” I said gleefully, ignoring my company. “Uh, but I’m kind of lost and I can’t navigate for shit… D’you think you could find me…?”

Roxas chuckled. “Sure, sure, it’s no problem. Where are you?”

“I’m in a Moonbucks.”

There was an aggravated sigh. “Axel, seriously, there’s like three Moonbucks in each square kilometre. Be specific!”

I took a sip from the coffee and choked. It was fucking saturated in sugar and caffeine. “I’m in the Moonbucks that Aqua and Terra work at,” I coughed. Terra rubbed my back comfortingly.

“Aqua and Terra? Oh! Dude, you’re on Postern. That’s where most of the town is, y’know.”

I wrinkled my nose and stared suspiciously down into the coffee cup. “Is it too much for me to ask you to come get me?”

“Nah, I’ll be there in just a minute. Stick tight, man. I’ll fish you out before someone kills you.”

I glanced over at a homicidal-looking Lightning. “You better hurry, Roxas. The probability of death is looking pretty damn high.”

Roxas snickered and the call ended. I pocketed my phone and looked up to see three expectant faces. I blinked dimly at them. “…what?”

Terra looked mournful. “Some people don’t have to work at all,” he said forlornly as he staggered off to the cash register.

I watched him go with a raised eyebrow. I turned to Aqua, who was carefully shielding her mouth with an elegant hand. “What was that about?” I asked her.

She gave me a sly look and pulled her face mask back into place. “Terra’s just making predictions,” she said lightly. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go get rid of this plunger…” She scurried away, leaving me feeling very confused.

I took another sip of the coffee and promptly choked. I spun around to Lightning, who was brewing another pot of caffeinated sludge. “What the fuck did you put in this?” I demanded as my legs started jittering uncontrollably. “Adrenalin, maybe?”

A slightly lewd expression spread across Lightning’s face. “I heard ahead of time from Sora—”

“You know Sora?”

“DON’T INTERRUPT ME!!”

“Don’t interrupt her,” Terra advised, watching us cagily. “She’s pretty temperamental herself. Time of month and all.”

“I’m right here, you know!” Lightning said loudly. “And you!” she rounded on Terra, who cowered behind the cash register. “Just because you’re gay does not mean that you can gossip about my personal business with everyone!”

Terra looked mildly perturbed. “What does gossip have to do with being gay? That’s so stereotypical! I’m not everybody’s confidant!”

Aqua nodded in agreement as she reappeared from the back closet. “He’s right, you know. Everyone confides in Demyx.”

I stared. “Demyx?” I echoed. “Is that a joke? I’d sooner trust Ven—” Terra winced “—with my deepest, darkest secrets than Demyx.”

Aqua smirked. “You and I may be the only people who think so,” she remarked, patting me warmly on the back.

“May I finish?” Lightning growled. We all quickly silenced ourselves and she continued, now looking like a teenage girl with an exceptionally juicy bit of dirt to spread. “Anyway, I heard ahead of time from Sora that you and Roxas were getting along well, and—”

Roxas burst into the café, a chequered backpack hanging off him. Lightning immediately shut her mouth and watched as Roxas hurried over to my table. “Sorry that took me so long,” he said, the words toppling out of his mouth in a rush. “My boss wanted me to finish a project, but I managed to convince him to let me go…”

“You didn’t whore yourself off to him, did you?” Lightning demanded from behind the counter, her icy blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You can do a lot better than that slut, Jack Sparrow…”

Roxas jumped back in surprise when he saw the woman leaning precariously over the counter, giving him a scrutinising look. “Auntie Lightning!” he exclaimed, rushing over to meet her.

(I spun around to face Aqua, my eyes wide. “She’s his aunt?!”

Aqua snorted derisively. “Of course,” she sniffed. “Sora and Cloud are plenty sensible. Where else do you think Ven could’ve gotten all the crazy from?”)

Roxas didn’t seem to be listening to us, though, and neither did Lightning. “How’ve you been? How’s the mister? What about Larxene?” Roxas asked, shooting questions like rapid-fire.

Lightning smiled wryly. “I’ve been lovely,” she told him. “My man’s as whipped as ever, and Larxy is just peachy.”

Roxas nodded with a lopsided grin. “Larx’s at camp, right?”

“That’s right. She went to Technician Camp. You know how she is—she likes working with all those gadgets and gizmos. It makes sense, I guess. Both my husband and I were pretty into tech when we were kids.”

(“Who’s Larxene?” I asked Terra and Aqua. They exchanged dark glances before Aqua replied that she was, and I quote, ‘Ven’s female counterpart.’)

“Anyway,” Lightning said, peering over at me from beneath her auburn fringe, “Roxas, sweetie, you better get your man out of here. Otherwise he’ll scare away all my customers with his antics.”

I felt sort of offended by that, and was sorely tempted to point out that her staff—with the exception of Aqua—was already scaring off customers. (The fourth person who worked at the Moonbucks had misplaced one of her shoes and had done nothing but crawl around the café looking for it.)

Roxas cast a sheepish look in my direction. “Yeah,” he agreed, “We should probably get out of here.” He nodded at me and jerked his head toward the door. “C’mon, Axel.”

I nodded eagerly, only too eager to leave this insanity behind me. Far, far behind me. But on our way out the door, Terra hopped over the counter and stopped us.

“Roxas,” he said, eyes wide, “How’s Ven? Is he all right? Does he miss me? Is he with another—”

Roxas quickly shushed him. “Ven’s more tetchy than usual,” he replied slowly, clearly choosing his words carefully. “He’s always in a foul mood when you two aren’t together, after all…” His voice trailed away and he gave me a desperate look. I nodded, catching his message and pushing the door open so we could make a quick getaway.

“Wait!” Terra latched onto Roxas’ wrist. “There’s one more thing,” he licked his lips nervously. “Did he get all my letters?”

I coughed. “He got them, all right,” I muttered.

Terra caught what I said and looked hopeful. “Did he read them?”

Roxas looked panicked. “Er…”

I quickly kicked the door open, wrenched Terra off Roxas and waved exaggeratedly at the Moonbucks staff. “It was a pleasure meeting all of you, and we really, uhh, must do this again sometime!”

They all stared at me incredulously. I laughed nervously. Then I grabbed Roxas and dragged him away from Terra and down the block, and we didn’t stop running until we were a good four blocks away.

“That…Terra…” I gasped, clutching at the stitch in my side. “He’s a…fucking…wreck!”

Roxas nodded emphatically, his face was flushed and his breathing was laboured. “It always…gets…like this…when…he and Ven…break up!”

It was then that I remembered something funny and burst into painful laughter.

“What…are you laughing…at?”

I wiped a tear from my eye as I hacked out my lungs. “Your aunt…the one…who said that…thing…that was Lightning!”

Roxas raised an eyebrow at me, before straightening slightly. (He’d almost caught his breath.) “What about her?”

I looked over at Roxas, the grin stretched across my face threatening to tear me in two. “She was right!”

“About what?”

“Ven tops from the bottom!”

For our little excursion, Roxas had decided to take us into a part of town called the ‘Marketplace.’ It really wasn’t an open-air market, like its name suggested. It was really just more of an area where there was a high concentration of grubby restaurants and small shops that sold junk. Really cool junk.

I pressed my nose against a glass window, practically salivating. “Oh. My. God.”

Roxas sighed and sidled up behind me, looking into the window. “What?” he asked, sounding bored. “What’s the big deal?”

I spun around and gaped at him. “Roxas, do you know what this is?!” I exclaimed pointing dramatically up at the squat building.

Roxas raised an eyebrow. “It’s the C’leenix building,” he said simply. “Didn’t you know they have a branch of their studio based here?”

I returned to drooling at all the collectibles on display. “No,” I said dreamily. “But this just made the town go up a few hundred thousand points, in my book.” My eyes hungrily took in the posters for upcoming games. “Look, Roxas!” I grabbed him and forced him to look at a poster featuring a skinny boy with dark, spiky hair and a huge pair of blue headphones. “It’s their upcoming game! Look! The World Terminates with You!”

Roxas groaned and shoved me away. “Goddamn it, stop being such a fanboy!”

I gawped at him. “But! But! But! Looook!” I pointed excitedly.

“Dude, I hear about C’leenix every day.” Roxas rolled his eyes. “My Pop works there.”

My jaw dropped open. Wait! Wait! What?!

“Sora works there?”

Roxas nodded indifferently and forcefully led me down the block, away from the studio. “Yeah. He was part of the head staff behind the Castle Soul series.”

HOLY SHIT.

“Yeah,” Roxas went on, “He’s very proud of Castle Soul. It was largely his idea, you know. Oh, but I’m sure you knew that already.” He laughed. “All the Disney stuff in the games was due to his influence.”

“SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!” I exclaimed, digging my heels into the pavement. Roxas turned and regarded me with raised eyebrows. “If your pop’s that influential and important and shit in C’leenix, doesn’t that mean that you get spoilers and all the prototypes or whatever?”

Roxas looked amused. “Pop doesn’t believe in giving spoilers. He’s very proud of his work and always wants to see us generally surprised.”

“But do you guys get all the games before they come out?”

“Well…yeah, but I don’t see why this is so important to y—”

I grabbed him in a bone-crushing hug. “Roxas, I’ll love you forever if you let me play the über new games when you get them! I’ll do anything! Please!!” I begged, bordering on hysterics.

Alarmed, Roxas quickly started working to detach himself from me. “You’re such a freak,” he said with an exasperated groan. “You don’t have to do anything; I would’ve let you know, anyway…”

“Have I ever told you I love you?”

The look I was giving him was meant to be one of adoration, but I think it must have turned out pretty disturbing, judging from the nauseous look that passed over his face.

“Just get off me.”

I finally separated myself from Roxas, but not before I got a whiff of something that smelled like cake mix. I blinked and sniffed again. The smell was definitely coming from Roxas. He gave me a quizzical look. “What the hell?”

I stared down thoughtfully at him. “Where’d you come from before you went to get me?” I asked.

“I told you, I was at work.” He looked a little self-conscious. I felt something evil stirring in me. “What’s it matter?”

I scratched my chin. “Where do you work?”

Roxas looked vandalised. “I don’t need to tell you that!” He hefted his knapsack into a more comfortable position, his right eye twitching slightly. “You’d laugh at me.”

Now I really wanted to know what he did. “No, I wouldn’t,” I said as earnestly as I could. Roxas pulled off a very impressive rendition of my mom’s ‘bitch, please’ look. I gave him a wounded look. “I’m being serious!”

“Che, my ass you are.”

“C’mon! I’ll tell you something about me that’ll probably make you laugh.”

He perked up a bit, looking intrigued. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”

I looked upward, trying to think of something not too personal, but something that still sounded sort of retarded, so he wouldn’t feel so insecure if his job really was just that lame. “‘Kay,” I said slowly. I lowered my voice so the little pigtailed brat down the street wouldn’t hear us over her wails for ‘kitty!’.

“You know those Backstreet Boy CDs from the other day?” I whispered conspiratorially. “The ones that you were helping me sort?”

Roxas quirked an eyebrow. “Kind of hard to forget,” he snorted.

I chose to ignore that comment. “Well, you remember how I told you they were my mom’s?”

Roxas smirked. “Actually, you told me they were your sister’s. Then you told me they were your mom’s.”

“Do you want me to fucking tell you my secret or what?!” I snapped. Roxas held up his hands as a gesture of peace, but his face still carried that smug expression. Bastard.

I swallowed, and looked around to make sure people weren’t eavesdropping on us. “Well, those CDs…they weren’t actually my mom’s. They’re mine.”

Roxas stared at me blankly for a moment before obnoxiously saying, “And?”

I blinked. “And what?”

He looked almost pissed. “And what’s the big secret?”

“That was the secret!” I sputtered. What, is he deaf or something? I wondered derisively.

Roxas gave me a rather blasé look. “That’s not really much of a secret, you know,” he told me with an arrogant roll of his eyes.

“Excuse me?!” Goddamn it, I’ll kill this punk! “I’m out here, bearing my soul to you, and all you have for me are complaints?!”

“Stop being so dramatic. You sound like Ven.”

OUCH.

“That,” I said shakily, thoroughly horrified by his statement, “was uncalled for.”

“Whatever.” Roxas waved a hand flippantly. “You can embellish that all you like, but it really was obvious. I mean, come on. I figured that out the first time I saw those discs.”

I glowered at him. “Well, tough! I already told you something, so now you have to tell me where you work. You can’t back out, you bastard.”

“Fine.” Roxas leaned forward and I bent slightly, so we were almost nose to nose. An oddly calm smile spread across his face. “I work in a bakery.”

I felt like smacking him. “I’d already guessed that!” I growled. When Roxas cocked his head in confusion, I continued. “I smelled cake mix on you.”

Roxas gave me a slightly disturbed look. “Why were you sniffing me?”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” I hissed, tugging on my hair. “I just caught a whiff of it!”

Roxas gave me a last doubtful look before shaking his head. “Whatever, man. Anyway, the point is that you gave me a crappy secret, so I gave you a crappy answer. We’re even.”

“No, we’re not!” I insisted. “I gave you fucking specifics! You weren’t specific! You didn’t say which goddamn bakery you work at!”

“Figure it out! You have a brain—right?” A smirk wormed its way onto his face, and I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across mine.

“Shut up, asshole!” I returned with an affectionate swat. “There’s, like, a million bakeries on Postern alone. How am I supposed to find yours?”

He shrugged nonchalantly and started strolling back down the block. “That’s not my problem,” he said happily. He peered over his shoulder and tossed a bright smile at me. A smile that was a little to sweet to be natural. “C’mon, Axel!”

I stomped after him, muttering darkly under my breath.

A couple stores down was an unusually wholesome setup. The shop was a pale shade of frosted pink and seemed to glimmer amidst the mismatching stores. Its glass windows had a strange cellophane-like appearance to them in how light reflected off in waves of transparent rainbows. I wandered to the window, staring at my slightly distorted reflection in a state that treaded the line between awe and stupidity. Roxas followed me to the display window, a bemused grin on his face.

“I dunno, Axel,” he said dubiously as he moved to stand beside me. His blue eyes were light with humour. “Although some of these dresses are very pretty, I don’t think they’re really right for you. And besides, everyone knows how goddamn expensive Andalasia Fashion is…”

I glared sourly at him. It was true. I was gaping at the window of a dress shop. I must’ve looked like some sort of aspiring cross dresser… (Insert facepalm.)

“Shut up, asshole,” I said hotly, glaring back into the window and scowling darkly at the blush on my reflection. Stupid glass must be dirty. “I was just admiring the artistry put into the embroidery and beading.”

Roxas smirked. “I’m sure you were.”

“You know,” I turned back to him, a wicked look on my face. “Only real men can walk into a chick’s clothes store without feeling a particularly vicious stab to their masculinity,” I told him, eyes carefully blank.

His eyes narrowed. He probably saw where this was going. “What are you saying?”

I smiled pleasantly at him. “Why don’t we browse a little?”

Roxas smiled wanly back up at me. “Sounds lovely.”

We both stomped into the store, a silver bell tinkling as the door swung open and shut. The second the door closed, a huge, white, sparkly pouf came flying at us.

“Hello!” the pouf gushed, putting extra emphasis on the ‘llo!’. Its voice was oversaturated in sugar. I could practically feel my teeth rot as it spoke. “It makes me so happy that you two handsome young men have found an interest in our store!”

Me and Roxas exchanged uncertain glances before looking back at the pouf. The pouf was actually a young woman in an elaborate and rather…poufy white gown. Her bright blue eyes were freakishly large, and her hair was red, but not my kind of red. It was that strawberry-blonde sort of red. Her hair had a gentle wave to it and had been done up with a dainty silver tiara perched on top of her curls. She looked like a princess. Albeit an oddly cheerful one.

“My name is Giselle of Andalasia,” she told us with joyous precision as she curtsied. “Will you be my friends?”

Roxas gave me a startled look and I cracked a small, slightly distressed grin at her. “Suuure…” I said uneasily, just a little bit freaked out. Giselle looked ecstatic and clapped her hands in delight.

“Wonderful!” she cried, her face lighting up. “This is such a pleasure! What, may I ask, are your names?”

“Uh, I’m Roxas of Radiant Garden and he’s Axel of Junon.”

Giselle curtsied again, her face glowing in humble adoration. “I am most honoured, good Sir Roxas and kind Sir Axel.” Her eyes shone with hope as she brought her trembling hands to her mouth. “Have you perhaps come to rescue me?”

Roxas scratched his head, and a small cloud of flour and cake mix floated into the air. “From what?” he wondered. “Minimum wage?”

Giselle giggled, demurely covering her mouth. “You’re so funny!” she cried, and Roxas quirked an eyebrow. “No, no, Sir Roxas. I’ve got a curse on me!”

I smiled. “You don’t say.”

She nodded emphatically, eyes wide. “Oh, I’m afraid so! I cannot leave my post in this charming store until my prince—my One True Love—comes and sweeps me away and we are wed!” She sighed dreamily, swooning into the arms of a mannequin wearing a royal blue satin dress that was rippled with silver beads. “Only then will I be free, once we partake in True Love’s Kiss. And then,” she smiled euphorically, “we’ll live Happily Ever After.”

I was about to cut the charade and laugh at the loon, but I stopped when I saw the expression on Roxas’ face. It was the strangest thing. He was smiling. Not that evil Ven smile—that one that signifies instant death and utter destruction. Not that ‘haha, you’re such an idiot!’ one, either. This one was just…generally happy. And so I decided not to do anything stupid that might make it go away.

“That sounds wonderful, Giselle,” Roxas said sincerely, that same smile lingering on his lips.

Giselle beamed at him. “Oh, but doesn’t it?” she gushed, her arms snaking through the air in oddly sporadic, yet, graceful movements. “I can hardly wait!” she told us.

“But how will you know when you meet your prince?” I asked, genuinely curious about her adamant beliefs.

She just smiled brightly at me. “I’ll just know,” she said simply.

Roxas closed his eyes, that same, soft smile still there. “I hope that day comes soon for you, Giselle.”

The girl smiled and straightened, prying herself away from the mannequin. “I hope it does, too, Sir Roxas. I pray it does with all of my heart,” she told him, her hands lying over her chest. “And I pray that your prince comes for you, too.”

Roxas’ smile cracked and a tick formed in his left eye.

Wait. His prince? I snickered.

“I hope that, too, Roxas,” I told him loudly, thumping him on the shoulder. He glared hatefully at me. “Don’t worry, though. You’re pretty hot, so your unfathomably sexy prince’ll definitely come for you,” I drawled, loving the flustered and mortified looks that passed over his face with the innuendos.

“Drop dead, Axel. Drop dead.”

Giselle looked slightly distressed. “Oh, please don’t fight! You two are comrades! You mustn’t fight!”

I nodded solemnly. “I agree, Giselle. Roxas really should work out his issues.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Precisely!” she cried, doing that weird thing of hers where she put emphasis on a specific syllable. She smoothed out her intricate ball gown and looked at us expectantly. “So, my noble sirs, now that we are all well-acquainted; how may I be serving you today?”

I stared at her in dumb silence for a moment. “We’re not here to buy anything, you know.”

Giselle looked rather confused. “I don’t understand,” she said slowly, furrowing her brows in thought. “Why would you two be in here, then? Surely you desire one of our fine gowns? We had a study done—there’s a twenty-one percent greater chance that your dreams will come true while you’re wearing one of our dresses…” She made a vague gesture to all the detailed costumes around the room. She looked concerned. “Are they, perhaps, not of a high enough quality to suit your occasion? That’s it, isn’t it?!” She looked ready to cry. “I’m terribly sorry! The animals and I have tried our best, but it really gets rather difficult when all your fabric comes from old draperies and carpets! It’s been absolutely ghastly trying to find good cloth! We’d have to pay for it from our salaries, and we already had to let go of two of our best mice last Thursday, and we really can’t afford to—”

“It’s not that they’re not beautiful,” I said hastily, cutting her rant off. (Animals? Mice? What the fuck was she talking about?) “They’re gorgeous, it’s just that…” I looked desperately at Roxas.

“It’s just that…” Roxas’ hands writhed nervously as he tried to shush the girl and stop her tears. “It’s just that they don’t look like…they’d fit us!” he finished quickly, his face flushing as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Giselle’s tears immediately ceased flowing. She peered up at us through thick lashes, eyes sympathetic. “Well,” she said slowly, her voice wavering slightly, “I could always take your measurements and custom design them for you, if you’d like. That way they’d definitely fit.”

I felt like screaming. “Giselle, we don’t want dresses.”

“Well, certainly not for a young lady, I’m sure. But, I think this sapphire one would look absolutely gorgeous on Sir Roxas.” She scurried over and pulled out a glittering, flowing gown with puffed sleeves and a jewel-encrusted corset; the skirt was made up of gauzy, angular cuts of blue fabric that had been layered into opacity, and shaped into a smooth, full skirt, expertly stitched with different shades of blue and silver beads. She showed it to us, holding it up against Roxas. “Look, it’s perfect! It matches his eyes!” She pushed it into Roxas’ hands. “It might fit, since you’re not bulky and have a rather gentle, lithe shape, but I can always adjust it if you want!” She looked incredibly excited with her find. “You’ll look magnificent in it! Would you like to try it on?”

Roxas’ eyes (which, interestingly, did match the colour of the dress superbly) were wide and practically falling out of his head. I glanced at the dress being held against him, briefly imagining him in it. I smirked a little inwardly. Giselle was right. It would look good on him. (And I was being completely serious—NO JOKE.)

“Um,” Roxas stammered, still looking totally shell-shocked, “we’re not here to buy dresses for ourselves. I don’t…I don’t wear dresses…”

“You don’t?” Giselle blinked owlishly at him, uncomprehending. “But how else do you expect to attract a prince?” she wondered, looking completely confused.

“You know,” I said slowly, trying to smother my snickers, “You really shouldn’t have upset Giselle like that, Roxas. She looked like you broke her heart when you told her you wouldn’t buy the dress.”

Roxas swerved around, death glare well in place. “Screw you,” he snapped spitefully. “You didn’t seem too thrilled when she asked you what size you wanted.”

I twitched. “Don’t change the subject. You know that was completely different.”

Roxas grinned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. My bad.”

We turned the corner and headed into our cul-de-sac. It was close to eight o’clock, and the sun was starting to dip behind the trees, staining the sky with strawberry pink and burnt orange. The lighting gave off the impression that Roxas’ and Marluxia’s houses were on fire. I mentioned this to Roxas, and he told me I had an overactive imagination.

I was about to turn and head up my front walk, when Roxas grabbed me by the arm. “Dude,” he said. “Where’re you going?”

I stared, caught off guard. “Uh, back home?”

“I don’t think so.” A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he led me away and toward his own house. “I have something to show you.”

I let him take me away, and we slunk along to his side yard, just beneath his bedroom windows and Roxas proudly presented the drainpipe to me. “Up you go,” he said brusquely. “We’ve gotta get up there quickly, or we’ll miss it.”

“Miss what?”

Roxas gave me an annoyed look. “Don’t ask questions, damn it. Up you go!”

I recoiled. “No way!” I exclaimed. “What if I fall?”

“I’ll be down here to catch you, princess,” he said snidely. I glared at him. “C’mon, Axel. You’re gonna miss it at this rate! Up you go!”

“Hell no,” I said firmly. “There’s no way this is safe.”

“Fine, then!” He threw his arms in the air, exasperated. “I’ll go up first.” And Roxas went scaling up the drainpipe with an ease that betrayed lots of practice. He climbed up until he could reach his left windowsill and perch on it, using it as a sturdy foothold; then he flipped the window open and crawled inside. He poked his head out, his blond hair glowing in the afternoon light. “C’mon, Axel!” he bellowed. “Up you go!”

I groaned and reluctantly started clamouring up the drainpipe, not wanting this incident to be retold to Ven as a point of further humiliation. The drainpipe was, thankfully, very sturdy and held up my weight with no protest as I worked my way up. When I finally made it to the window, I let out a sigh of exhaustion as Roxas leaned out to help me in. “Is there any particular reason why we couldn’t have used the front door?” I asked grumpily as I wiped my sweaty palms on the thighs of my jeans.

I looked around the bedroom. It was small and completely unlike what I’d expected. From Roxas’ pretty subdued dress style and all the black and white cheques, I’d been predicting something of that nature. This was from the complete opposite side of the spectrum. The walls and ceiling were painted butter yellow and spattered with orange sponge prints, and the room as a whole was very bright and welcoming. Roxas’ desk was buried beneath piles of clutter and crumpled papers and sheet music. His bookshelf was home to a clashing collection of works, varying from the classics to modern thrillers to sudoku books. Heaps of laundry littered the floor, and a white t-shirt was draped over a feebly glowing, star-shaped lamp. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that the shirt was from Disney World and would fit a small child, and the humongous autographs that adorned it were from none other than the Disney characters themselves. I fought back a snicker. Roxas glanced over at me and rolled his eyes.

“I got that at Disney World when I was three,” he told me. “My pop was on a mission to make sure that Ven, Naminé, and I all got everyone’s signatures.”

I carefully lifted the shirt, examining the autographs. “I’d say you were pretty successful.”

Roxas snorted. “Yeah? Well, we take those t-shirts back every year and hunt down any new characters and harass them until we get their signatures.” He smiled fondly. “Pop wants us to frame the t-shirts, but Dad always manages to prevent such humiliation from happening.”

I laughed and replaced the t-shirt. I looked back over to where he was. “So,” I said, “You never answered my earlier question: why couldn’t we use the front door?”

“This is faster,” Roxas explained as he moved to his other window and unlocked it. “Besides, I figured you’d want to avoid any confrontations with Ven. And, geez, if we ended up meeting my parents…” He shuddered. “We’d be stuck talking to them until the next Castle Soul game came out.”

I bemoaned the slow development of C’leenix and fell back into the mess of Roxas’ unmade bed, sinking into his orange comforter and sheets. Roxas chuckled as he opened the window. He jerked his head at me. “Stop being such a drama queen, and get your ass over here.”

I sauntered over. “Geez, Roxas, I thought we agreed I was a princess…”

“My bad. You can’t be queen until I marry you.” He crawled out the window and disappeared from view.

I nodded sagely. “That’s right.” I stuck my head out the window. Roxas had climbed from his window onto the roof, which was a plateau beside his window, and sloped outward beneath this level. He was standing tall on the roof, looking over at the horizon line. When he saw me looking, an annoyed look passed over his face.

“Hurry up, Axel,” he said loudly. A smirk formed. “Up you go.”

I frowned at him and heaved myself out the window and onto the roof, standing beside him. I looked around. “What’re we looking for?”

Roxas sighed and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look in the direction of the sunset. “That is what we came here for.” He dropped his hand and I stared at the mix of colours, jaw falling open.

“Oh…”

In Midgar, you couldn’t really see the sun. It was so heavily polluted, you know? In all honesty, this was probably my first sunset—the first one I’d bothered to watch, anyway. And it was…amazing. There were no clouds—the sky was completely empty, yet overflowing at the same time. The orange was only a thin film around what was left of the sun, clinging to the golden ball for light. And that same strawberry pink had spread and was slowly fading into pale lavender before deepening into violet and navy, before completely extinguishing into black, pinpricks of twinkling stars glittering overhead.

I drank it all in, that sight, admiring how it never stayed the same, the colours changing and deepening and blending with each passing second, the stars shining brighter and brighter.

“Whoa,” I mumbled, eyes wide.

Roxas shifted beside me. “It’s a lot nicer in Twilight Town,” he muttered absently, toeing the roof. “But, y’know, I thought you might like it… I mean, Dad told me that since you’d grown up in Midgar, you probably didn’t get to see many sights like this, and, well, I guess that—”

“Roxas?”

He blinked and looked up at me, his golden hair illuminated in the dying light. His eyes were hesitant. “Yeah?”

I loosely threw an arm around him. “Thanks.”

The Afterword: HEYY! It’s finally done! XD That took a long time, eh?

Well, it’s a relatively long-ish chapter…does that appease you momentarily? :hopeful:

A lot of this stuff (meaning the whole chapter) wasn’t planned. A lot of the events and elements that arose were sort of spur of the moment. Like, that whole Andalasia Fashion thing, for example. I just saw Enchanted last night, and I was like “WAO, these guys hafta be incorporated! 8D ”

I think the only thing that I’d had the general idea of was the Moonbucks setting. I’d had the people who worked there all figured out… Uh, but Terra was never going to be that…melodramatic… XDD

The ending hadn’t really been planned, either. I just wanted it to end…nicely, I guess. Not the same sort of crack-ish ending as the first, but something a little warmer, I guess. I mean, these two are gonna get hitched eventually, eh? :D

:0 Honestly, a lot of the stuff that gets included in these chapters is there because they came along into my life while I happened to be writing the chapter. Like The World Ends with You (to them, The World Terminates with You) and Enchanted. :P I wouldn’t be surprised if the crew from Narnia showed up in the near future. 8D I just saw Prince Caspian last night after my school district’s concert of extreme awesome (I think I did a pretty sick job on bells and keyboard XD ), and OH MY GOD. XDDD :fangirls: The Pevensies are HOT!! XDDD

:regains composure: So, yeah, just don’t be surprised if they pop up in the next chapter or so. XD My belief with this fic is that if I can fit an element of Disney or Final Fantasy or whatever in, I will. XD ‘Cause I’m a retard like that.

Um, so… in other news, there’s an “It’s Like Hell” related poll in my profile. Basically, if you’re curious to see some of the details behind the inspiration—pictures of places, floor plans, music, etc.—you should go vote. It’s like, I got asked by a few people “how’d you come up with this shit?” And truthfully, the answer is that you can’t make this shit up. XP A lot of this is based off real life. I grew up in a pretty funky place, and it clearly made some sort of an impact. (But you’ll see more of that much later on. I have a KH high school-type AU in the planning, but I don’t intend on writing that out until I’m done with this one.) Anyway, if you vote to see the stimuli, you’ll get some amped up power point or something… :0

So, yeah. There you have it. This chapter is FINISHED. 8D (Finally!)

Hm… I think that’s all I have to say. :D Hope you guys enjoyed! Tell me what you thought! :D