Disclaimer: I wish...

Beta: impish-nymph. Who kicked my ass a lot with this chapter. THANK YOU. No idea what I would do without you.

A/N:Ahaha. Er. Well, this chapter took a lot longer than expected. I had a frustrating case of writings block, and then real life and just blah. But! Here it is, finally. Please enjoy and leave me your thoughts!

Also, some of this story had to be edited so it could be posted on this site. Mainly links and email addresses. If you would prefer to read the unaltered version, you can find it posted at fullrefund on LiveJournal.

Minus 13

HipsDontLie is currently offline.

Roxas stares at his screen blankly, vaguely wondering when his left eye had developed an uncontrollable twitch and how to stop it before it becomes permanent. The world is out to get him, Roxas realizes grimly. There is no other explanation. None. Nothing comes to mind. The world hates him and enjoys watching him get worked up and then pulls everything out from under him with a sadistic grin. It really isn’t fair.

With an indignant huff, Roxas shuts down his laptop and throws himself back on his bed, glaring up at the ceiling. It had taken him ten entire minutes to convince himself that adding HipsDontLie to his messengers wasn’t the end of the world. Even though it had felt like it. And for what? He wasn’t even online. All the talk about adding him straight away and he wasn’t even there. Roxas isn’t stupid. That email wasn’t there when he first checked his email. It had come after he had read the only Organization email.

Surely HipsDontLie didn’t sign off ten minutes after sending the email? Roxas scowls darkly, turning on his side to glare across his bedroom. It isn’t all that hard to imagine. It seems like something the bastard would do. Send the email, demand action, and not be there for when he does. Unless… Unless HipsDontLie is invisible? Waiting to see if he adds him and what he does after it. Maybe it is some kind of test?

Roxas’s eyes go wide. Cursing, he hurriedly sits back up and turns the cooling laptop back on with more force than he intends. If that is it, if he is waiting for Roxas to message him and make the first move, to speak first… Roxas types his password in furiously, fingers moving swiftly and the keys make loud clanking noises as if they are protesting the rough treatment. Impatiently, he glowers at the screen as it loads and his messengers pop up, logging him in automatically. He scans his contact list, double clicking on the offending screen name and types the first thing that comes to mind.

SeaSalt: If you are invisible, I’m sending a highly malicious virus to your email.

Hitting the enter key with satisfaction, Roxas waits, eyes fixed at the bottom of the IM window. Waiting for the indication that HipsDontLie is invisible and playing a stupid game with his head. He’s convinced that this must be a stupid test from Minus 13 and he has almost failed.

Roxas waits for ten minutes before giving up and switches off his laptop with an irritated sigh.

---

Roxas had the sense of mind to set his alarm before he fell asleep. In fact, he had been extra cautious and set the alarm on his cell phone as well.

At exactly 7:05am two sets of alarms wake him from his deep sleep and dreams of becoming a world renowned Internet hacker. He fumbles blindly to switch them both off, mind disorientated and his limbs half asleep and clumsy. Roxas slides off his bed with a muffled thump, landing on his hands and knees with his blankets cocooning him and shielding the bright sunlight from reaching his eyes. He presses his forehead into the soft carpet, wishing he could crawl back into his warm, comfortable and very tempting bed.

Breathing softly, he closes his eyes, simply kneeling there for awhile. Roxas almost dozes back off, body shuddering back awake with a start. Wiping his hand over his eyes, he forces himself to his feet, shrugging the blankets off and stumbles around his bedroom. He changes into clean clothes and runs gel coated fingers through his hair, movements practiced and he barely needs to pause and think. By 7:15am, he is making his way downstairs and grunts a greeting at his mom as he collapses into a kitchen chair and drops his bag by his feet.

“Rough night?” she asks with a laugh, pushing a plate of buttered toast in front of him. “I slept like a baby.”

Grunting again, Roxas methodically picks at his food and eats it slowly. He watches his mom as she moves around the kitchen, her nightgown tied loosely around her waist and her hair mussed up from sleep. She smiles at him when she catches his gaze.

“I have to go to the library to get some books. I can drop you off to school this morning, if you want,” she continues speaking cheerfully as she makes herself a bowl of cereal and a mug of coffee. “It’s a shame that I didn’t need to go yesterday, hmm? You wouldn’t have been late to school, then.”

Roxas chokes on his toast, coughing until his mom walks over to him and pats his back roughly. She passes him a glass of water and gazes down at him appraisingly. “Chew before you swallow, Roxas.”

After finishing the glass of water and drying his mouth on the back of his hand, Roxas hastily stands up and takes his plate and glass to the sink. “I think I’ll walk, Mom, but thanks.” Roxas flashes her a forced smile. He snatches up his bag and backs out of the room. ”See you later!”

“Bye, Roxas,” she calls, sounding amused.

---

Outside, Roxas takes a much needed deep breath and shakes his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walks down the street swiftly. There is no way that he’ll be late for school today. He has left with more than enough time to catch the bus to school. He’ll probably end up with a good extra fifteen minutes loitering by the bus stop but that is better than missing the bus again.

Roxas muses over the previous night, wondering if he’ll have better luck this afternoon. Snorting, Roxas rolls his eyes. Luck? He isn’t even sure he wants to talk to HipsDontLie. He would be lucky if Mr. Thrusty Hips never logged on and he would be assigned a replacement mentor.

“Yo!”

Roxas stops walking after a moment. His thoughts freeze completely, frosting before icing over and finally cracking and melting away. Slowly, he turns around, not quite believing that the world insists on throwing more arrogant males in his direction. Briefly, he contemplates on devoting his day to sending bogus chain emails to get rid of his 500 years of bad luck.

“Why am I stuck with the annoying, irritating bastards?” Roxas growls at the smirking face of Axel.

Axel has the nerve to laugh. “Well, it might be that adorable pout of yours.”

“Shut up!” Roxas snaps. He takes a step towards Axel, bunching his fists together tightly in his pockets and resists the urge to pull them out so he can hit the smirk off the older male’s face. “Why are you here?”

“I thought I was walking but I could be confused,” Axel replies smoothly, not pausing and continues to walk past Roxas. “Unlike you, I have places to be.”

“We went over this yesterday. I have school which is very important.” Roxas starts walking again, speeding up so he overtakes Axel, not willing to let him beat him. Not that it was a competition, he tells himself, but he can’t help reacting that way.

“I recall calling you lazy.”

Roxas glares at Axel over his shoulder. “You’re very wrong.”

“This is coming from the guy who is catching a bus to school.”

“It is a long walk,” Roxas protests. “It would take over an hour by foot.”

“It’ll get rid of that puppy fat. Not that I’m complaining or anything.” Axel throws him a smirk. “You have very cute round cheeks.”

Roxas gapes, indignant retorts dying on his lips as Axel overtakes him for the second time. Roxas stares at his back for a moment. Finally, he retorts angrily, “I don’t have any fat!”

“You will if you spend all your time sitting in a bus.”

For a moment, Roxas doesn’t know how the hell he is supposed to respond. It crosses his mind that this conversation is the most pointless conversation he has ever had. Roxas walks forward quickly, grabbing Axel’s arm roughly and jerks him to a halt. “You rode a bike. That isn’t walking,” he says smugly, yanking on Axel’s arm lightly.

Axel cocks an eyebrow and flicks the tip of Roxas’s nose. “Wanna see my leg muscles, Blondie?”

“What?” Roxas exclaims, letting go of Axel as if burnt. “No!”

Axel’s grin is razor sharp. Roxas takes a step back without being conscious of doing so. When he realizes what he is doing, he glowers and spins on the heels of his feet, stomping away from the laughing red head. “Annoying, irritating bastard,” he mutters, kicking a clump of grass growing from a crack in the pavement.

It seems like Axel isn’t going to follow him and he begins to relax, not bothering to watch where he is going and just stares at his feet, frowning heavily. Roxas isn’t even sure why the older male bothers him. Sure, he had made him buy him breakfast but Roxas had broken his bike, even if it was just an accident. That isn’t enough to give him reason to dislike Axel and be rude. (Although being rude or just short tempered isn’t something new for him but he likes to pretend that it’s not a part of his personality.)

And yes, some of the things Axel says are weird and make him somewhat uncomfortable but he is entertaining, just in a very strange way. It is probably because Roxas isn’t used to interacting with people like Axel. Not even where he used to live. There were people who looked even stranger than Axel but Roxas had never approached them. Roxas vaguely recalls seeing a group of teens sporting about twenty piercings in their faces, leaving any other piercings on their bodies to the imagination. They spent all their time playing acoustic guitars while smoking something that wasn’t tobacco and dancing around together. Roxas had made an effort to stay away from them.

In Twilight Town, Axel sticks out like a rusty nail. Roxas forces his mind away from the thought that he wants to hammer Axel into proper shape. Thinking like that just brings distressing images to mind, images that he is half certain that he’d never consider before he met Axel and suffered his uncomfortable comments.

“Glad to see you followed my advice, Roxas,” Axel remarks as he appears by his side again, interrupting Roxas’s thoughts. Roxas darts a glance up at Axel’s face and immediately looks away again, scowling darkly.

“I’d rather walk into a wall than follow any advice you could give.”

“Oh please do,” Axel says with a chuckle, nudging Roxas. “I haven’t had my dose of humiliation induced entertainment yet.”

Roxas glares and side steps slightly, adjusting his bag on his back. “Not going to happen. Now, go away. I have a bus to… ” His words trail off as he looks around at his surroundings, slowing to a stop as he turns in a full circle. Facing Axel again, he pokes his chest with a finger and scowls up at him accusingly. “You purposely let me walk past my bus stop, didn’t you?”

Axel backs away with a grin, lifting his hands up in what is supposed to be an innocent gesture. “Now, would I do that? No, of course not. You really do think badly of me, don’t you?”

“What on earth gave you that impression?” Roxas retorts sarcastically. With one last huff, Roxas pushes past Axel and walks back in the direction they had both just come from. He glances at his watch, sighing in relief. The bus won’t arrive for a few more minutes, if it is running on time, so he shouldn’t miss it. If he somehow does, Roxas knows where Axel works and he will quite happily take himself over there to have a word with his employer.

“What, no goodbye hug for poor little me? You wound me, Roxas. You truly do.”

Roxas doesn’t dignify that with a response and continues walking.

---

“Roxas!” Hayner calls from the back of the bus, waving at him. Roxas flashes him a grin and makes his way towards the back, stepping over a few bags piled on the floor. “We saved you a seat just in case you dragged yourself to school today.”

“Thanks guys,” Roxas replies awkwardly, taking the free spot between Pence and the window. He belatedly realizes that it is the side that faces the pavement. He grimaces as the bus starts moving and he turns away from the glass, not wanting to see Axel again.

Olette leans forward, touching his arm lightly and smiles at him. “Were you sick?”

Roxas pulls a face, feeling nervousness bubbling in his stomach but he shakes his head. “No, I just missed the bus …and was tied up with something else.”

“Oh?” Olette’s fingers wrap around his arm. “Anything important? We were assigned our projects yesterday; the ones that are worth 40 of our total grade. Did you forget?”

Hayner slowly drags his finger across his throat, pretending to choke and gag, falling against his window with his tongue hanging limp out of his mouth. Roxas wants to hit him but tries to ignore him instead.

“Ah… Yeah, I did actually.”

Olette is a nice girl, sweet, but she does have a mild temper that flares up when certain triggers are mentioned. Missing school or not handing in school work is one trigger that Roxas learnt fairly quickly after spending some time with them.

Roxas can still remember Olette berating Hayner for an entire hour when she found out he skipped two days of school to practice Struggle fighting. It isn’t something you could easily forget. She had only stopped lecturing Hayner because she got a call on her cell from her mother about her elder sister going into labor. It was like Olette was suffering from a serious case of split personality. The lecturing fearsome beast transformed into a mass of uncontrollable girlishness, something that squeaked and squealed over the phone and promptly hugged all three of them, then left them all in a state of shock. Olette is definitely going to make a very intimidating wife one day, Roxas thinks and remembers deciding that he is never introducing her to his mom.

“Aren’t you going to elaborate, Roxas?” Olette presses, her smile kind and terrifying at the same time. “The teacher wasn’t very happy that you were absent. She had told us the day before to make sure we were at school yesterday.”

“I had breakfast with… an old friend. I completely forget about it,” Roxas replies weakly. He had forgotten about the assignment. It was very lucky the school didn’t mention it during the call to his mom.

“From where you used to live?”

“Yeah,” Roxas pauses as Olette removes her hand. He feels a sense of relief settling over him and he relaxes, resting his head against the window and he closes his eyes. “They were the reason I missed the bus. Figured that we might as well spend some time together since there was no way I’d get to school on time.”

“Still, you could have simply come late and told your friend that you’d talk to them later,” Olette tells him practically, a note of disapproval in her voice. “You’ll have to explain to the teacher now. Hopefully you won’t get any marks deducted.”

Tiring of the lecture, Roxas hums, agreeing even though he doesn’t mean it. Lying isn’t right, he knows this, but he is aware that in the last two days he has lied to two different people. Roxas wonders if this is Axel’s fault. Not that there is any reason to blame him but it is easier to do so. It is becoming an interesting bad habit.

Olette sighs and starts talking to Pence, leaving Roxas in peace. He opens his eyes, catching a glimpse of red out of the window and he grimaces, feeling an uncomfortable urge to shift in his seat and stare out of the window behind him. He resists. It doesn’t matter.

The rest of the bus ride is quick and Olette doesn’t try to pry or lecture him about school. They don’t know each other well enough yet to press further, to push each other the way like friends that have known each other for years do. Roxas is relieved by this and enjoys the silence around him. The soft murmurs of conversation a few seats away and the noise of the students at the front of the bus drift down towards him. It lulls around him, relaxing him, and he gradually tunes it all out as he stares at the town outside; the small clutter of shops, the people strolling around, greeting each other with smiles and handshakes, the long familiarity of knowing each and every person for years.

It begins to get too much to watch and Roxas turns away, gazing up at the ceiling of the bus and he counts the bags resting in the holders. Safe and secure. Roxas tightens his hold on his bag, pressing it firmly into his chest.

“Roxas, are you free this weekend?” Hayner asks, poking his shoulder not so gently. Roxas blinks, staring at Hayner blankly for a moment. Hayner shifts in his seat, looking somewhat unnerved by Roxas unwavering gaze. He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck – an uncomfortable gesture that Roxas recognizes immediately. “Roxas? Any one home in there?”

“Ahh sorry,” Roxas apologizes, frowning as he rubs his face. “Yes… Yeah, I’m free. Why?”

Hayner grins widely, puffing up proudly and almost bounces in his seat. “My parents are going out of town for the weekend and since the Struggle is on Friday, thought it was a great time to host a celebration party for my inevitable win.”

“I still don’t think this is a good idea, Hayner,” Olette intervenes, looking both concerned and exasperated. “Do you remember what happened last time someone tried to have a party?”

Hayner snorts, waving his hand dismissively “They publicly announced that there would be alcohol. I’m not stupid, you know.”

“What happened last time?” Roxas asks, vaguely curious.

As far as he knew, Twilight Town really isn’t the place to host parties. The town is too small and there really aren’t enough places to go. People seem content to not go on vacations. Roxas doesn’t know how they can be happy simply living here and not go exploring or visiting other places. The adults must live very dull lives.

Both Hayner and Olette shift uncomfortably. They share a glance before both looking at Pence at the same time.

Roxas leans forward, nudging Pence. “Pence?”

Pence laughs, shuffling in his seat and scratches his chin, a thoughtful expression coming over his face. “Apparently some of the adults took over the party and were slightly embarrassing.”

“’Slightly embarrassing’ my ass,” Hayner interrupts. “You didn’t seeyour parents dancing and drinking themselves blind. I still can’t get the image of my parents practically eating each other’s faces out of my mind.” The blond shudders and screws up his face.

Olette nods and Roxas notices a slight pink tinge to her cheeks. “Was there anything else, Olette?”

“Hmm? What?” Olette meets Roxas eyes, looking startled but quickly hides it behind an unconvincing grin. “Oh no. I think that was it. I’m almost definitely sure that was it.”

“I don’t know how to say this politely but you can’t lie for shit, Olette,” Roxas informs her with a small smile. She really can’t. Everything about her screams “I’m lying. I’m lying!” and it just makes Roxas more curious.

This is probably the most fascinating piece of information he has heard about the town and its adult occupants. Maybe they didn’t need to go on vacations and spend lots of money exploring different countries. They probably held secret parties away from their children’s eyes. There is no way that he is letting the conversation drop until he knows everything that happened.

It takes a little while, a lot more probing and coercing but he eventually breaks Olette down to admitting she had walked in on her parents doing a bit more than making out on the dining room table. She told them that she still had trouble looking at her parents directly when they were together.

“Its worse when they kiss or something,” Olette grumbles, smacking Hayner’s head in attempt to get him to stop laughing. “Hayner, shut up! It’s not funny. It could have easily been your parents.”

“Yeah but it wasn’t. It was… It was your p-parents,” Hayner chokes out. His eyes are watering and he’s constantly wiping them, his hand shaking wildly. “I just… Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Because I knew you would react like this! It’s embarrassing.”

Pence and Roxas glance at each other, eyebrows raised and they shrug helplessly. It’s amusing to watch the two go at each other. Both their faces are flushed, one with embarrassment, the other with laughter.

“I hope your party will be just as entertaining, Hayner,” Roxas offers with a smirk. “Who knows who’ll be doing what in who knows where in your house. Maybe Pence could set up a few video feeds?”

Roxas immediately regrets saying that as both Pence and Hayner look like they have been hit with an amazing, incredible and brilliant idea. “Guys… I was joking.”

“Imagine the content. The raw material.” Hayner’s eyes glaze over and he turns to Pence. “Do you think you could set something like that up?”

“I can’t see why not. I can borrow a few of the school’s cameras and set them up on Saturday morning.”

Roxas looks over at Olette and she quirks a brow at him, shrugging a shoulder as if to say: you suggested it. You deal with it.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, guys,” Roxas says. His words go unheard and he slumps back in his seat. The weekend is definitely going to be an interesting one, he realizes grimly.

---

Thankfully, the rest of the day goes fast and Roxas manages to convince Hayner and Pence that having twenty video cameras planted around Hayner’s home is a touch excessive. Eventually, they agree. Instead they decide on fifteen cameras and a few microphones inserted into plants and pillow cases. Roxas gives up, vaguely horrified.

He questions whether he wants to risk going now that he knows it is most likely everything will be captured on film. There are plenty of sites the footage could end up on and he really doesn’t want to be seen on YouTube any time soon.

Roxas cringes at the thought as he walks through the school gates, imagining the various innocent looking situations that could be easily taken out of context with Pence’s video editing skills. Not that he thinks Pence would intentionally do it, but if Hayner is there encouraging it, who knows what may end up happening. There are still a few days to decide whether he is going to go. It is just a shame Sora and his friends won’t be there for it because they would probably enjoy the social aspect more than he would.

Roxas isn’t the best at socializing, preferring his own company and only talking to those he knows. He feels more relaxed talking freely online with a screen between him and everyone else. It might have something to do with the fact he can sign off or block whoever he is talking to if he gets sick of them. He has a bad habit of doing that.

Then there is Axel.

Axel. Roxas stops walking, ignoring the irritated comments directed his way from the people who have to swerve not to walk into him. He doesn’t know what he thinks of the eccentric red head. The times when they have crossed paths he has annoyed Roxas, but there is something in his personality that tickles him. Axel is interesting because he is different and doesn’t seem to hold back.

Most people take one look at him and leave him after he tells them he’s not interested in friendship. It must have something to do with whatever expression he has on his face at the time or how he talks to them that puts them off. It hadn’t worked on Axel, though. It didn’t seem to bother him at all.

Roxas starts walking again, frowning down at his feet as he thinks about it more, and he gets on his bus without really thinking about it. He ignores Olette when she calls to him from the back of the bus. Instead he sits down near the front, resting his forehead against the cool glass and watches the streets flash by.

It bothers him that Axel isn’t discouraged by his attitude. Roxas suspects that it would take a lot more to annoy Axel to the extent that he would stop talking. For some reason, Roxas can’t bring himself to contemplate what he may need to do to have that sort of lasting impact. He realizes suddenly, so suddenly that he rocks forward abruptly and hits his head on the window, that he doesn’t want Axel to stop talking to him. It shocks him. Roxas sits there, rubbing his forehead gingerly, and stares at his translucent reflection in the glass.

As much as Axel has irritated him the last two days, he feels amusement under the annoyance and Roxas finds him to be entertaining to be around. Maybe not when he has to buy Axel food or when Axel laughs at him for doing something stupid and embarrassing. But the way he talks and carries himself is so different, so out of place, that it calls to Roxas and he can’t help but be fascinated by it.

The normalcy in this town, all the boring sameness that has become his everyday life has been breached and ripped apart by an insane red head. Perhaps things might turn out to be somewhat more interesting around town.

Roxas realizes with a jolt that he is about to miss his stop. He quickly gets to his feet, grateful that he decided to sit near the front, and calls to the bus driver to stop and let him off. The driver grumbles irritably, muttering under his breath but Roxas ignore him as he hurriedly stumbles down the steps.

“Thanks,” he mumbles to the closing bus door, still lost in thought.

---

HipsDontLie: call me ‘Thrusty’.

SeaSalt: No.

HipsDontLie: What, you’re going to know me very intimately from now on, Salty. An intimate name is necessary for my position over you.

Roxas stares at the screen, a look of horror coming over his face and he shakes his head.

The curser hovers over the block button - blinking. It would be so easy, so simple, and he could pretend that he never bothered instant messaging HipsDontLie in the first place.

The man is a pervert. For some reason, he has always thought that HipsDontLie was young but it is possible that he is an old, horny pervert who preys on innocent teenage boys. Roxas shudders and decides he’ll give the man another chance to hopefully prove that he is normal and plans to take this seriously.

SeaSalt: Hips will be fine, thanks.

HipsDontLie: Aww, you’re no fun, are you? I think I lucked out with you. Thought you’d be a fun newbie who I could enjoy mentoring thoroughly. All the ins and outs. You know what I mean. Guidance and all that exciting shit.

HipsDontLie: With the possibility of cybering on the side. ;)

Roxas closes his eyes, breathing in and out. The block feature is very helpful, he thinks fondly. The ominous click makes him feel much better.

---

-

From: SeaSalt. Trinketkeyblades(at)gmail(dot)com

To: Organization. Organization(at)minus13(dot)com

Subject: Request for a new Mentor.

I demand a different mentor. HipsDontLie is requesting cybering. I did not apply for that.

SeaSalt.

-

Sitting back, Roxas closes his eyes for a moment and stretches his arms over his head. He makes a soft sigh of satisfaction as his muscles pull. The dull ache from sitting at his laptop for over an hour without a break gradually lessens.

It would be easy to simply just switch the laptop off and crawl into bed but it is still too early. There is still dinner and a few pages of homework to at least attempt before he can even think of dozing off for the rest of the night. Roxas yawns and glares at the monitor for a moment but no reply email pops up. What a waste of time, he thinks. He slides off the bed and walks over to his bag, removing the necessary school books and his pens.

The next hour ticks by slowly, the text in front of him blurring and confusing him more often than it makes sense. Finally, Roxas caves and closes the heavy book with a snap, pushing it as far away from him as possible. It is useless. He hasn’t got the concentration to focus on this work. His mind keeps flicking back to the email and the short conversation with Mr. Thrusty Hips. Roxas wonders if there is a reply yet, if everything has been resolved, and if maybe he won’t have to talk to his ‘mentor’ again.

Roxas eyes his laptop critically and pulls it towards him, running his finger quickly over the touchpad to turn off the screensaver. He drums his fingers before refreshing his browser and he scans his inbox but there are no new messages. Roxas scowls darkly and exits out of the window.

“Roxas?” his mom calls. “Dinner’s ready!”

“Coming, Mom!” Roxas shouts back.

With a snap, he closes the laptop lid and carries it to his desk, dumping his school books next to it with a thump. Maybe after dinner there will be a reply. Roxas scowls, annoyed with himself. The only person he should be annoyed at are the other moderators for making this more difficult than it needed to be. If they had just assigned him someone more responsible and sane, there would be no trouble at all and he would be happily terrorizing new members of the forum. It just better be worth it in the end.

Maybe he’ll get to work under TheBrainGame. He seemed a bit stiff and always came off like he thought he was better and smarter than everyone else, even to the other moderators, but at least he wouldn’t try to be suggestive towards him. The conversation would most liking be boring and serious but at least it would be over and done with without any hassle. They could both just get on with what they had to do instead and probably forget they ever worked together. If he had to work with HipsDontLie, he highly doubted that he would be able to forget the experience, ever. Especially not if the term ‘cyber’ was going to be tossed around so easily.

Roxas dismisses the thoughts with a sigh. He can think about this stuff after dinner or even in the morning, deciding that he’s had enough of his laptop for the night. As he leaves his room, he gets a whiff of dinner and his stomach grumbles loudly. He pats it as he quickly walks downstairs, wandering into the kitchen. He hovers over his mom’s shoulder, looking down at the food she is in the process of dishing out.

“…Soup?” he asks incredulously. It hadn’t smelt like soup from upstairs. It had smelt like something much more appealing and satisfying. The soup looks green and overly lumpy. Roxas feels his stomach shrivel in protest and no longer feels hungry.

“It is a stew, Roxas,” his mom corrects him, nudging him away. “Can you set up the table, please?”

Roxas opens his mouth, preparing a weak protest but his mom gives him a look and he backs down immediately, not even daring to sigh in defeat. Finding safety in the cutlery drawer, he grabs spoons without looking and sets them down on the table, followed by placemats that have cheerful cat faces stamped over them.

“How was school?”

“It was okay,” Roxas says with a shrug, pulling out his chair as his mom passes him his bowl.

“Nothing interesting happen?” she asks, dipping her spoon into the stew. Roxas watches as various sized lumps are stirred around before replying.

“Well, Hayner is trying to organize a get together for Saturday.”

“Hmm.”

They are silent for a few minutes, the only sound coming from the spoons knocking against the bowls. The stew isn’t as bad as Roxas suspected – in fact he actually finds himself enjoying it.

“I’m not sure you’ll be able to go, Roxas,” his mom says abruptly, placing her spoon on the table and looking up at him. She looks serious.

“Is something wrong?” Roxas asks, startled.

“You could say that,” she says, frowning. “I had another phone call from your school today. A rather different phone call from yesterday’s. I was hoping that you would say something but…”

“A… phone call?” Roxas repeats faintly, and he places his own spoon on the table and pushes his half empty bowl to the side. “I guess it wasn’t about me receiving best attendance, then?”

“You’re grounded, Roxas. For two weeks, unless I think you are behaving. I never thought I would have to do this. In fact, I never thought I would get a call from your school saying you skipped a day.” She looks at him, shaking her head. “I’m disappointed in you.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “It wasn’t planned or anything. I actually spent most of the day doing work in the library.”

His mom sighs, standing and collecting both their bowls. “That isn’t the point. Now… Go do your homework, and no laptop tonight, Roxas. Good night.”

Roxas watches his mom’s back as she disappears into the kitchen, feeling guilty and rather stupid. After a moment, he stands and hovers outside the kitchen door, debating whether to enter and apologize again, or just leave it until tomorrow. He hears the sound of running water and dishes being scraped and moved around.

“Night, mom,” he mutters, frowning, and then slowly makes his way back to his room.

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