Greetings! I hope you all are doing well. As you can see, story number five has made its way into my little collection, and Mamma hopes her baby can get along well with all the other little children in the class room. ;3

I wrote this after deciding that Riku's eyes were so attractive they simply had to be written about properly. I played around with the idea for a while, and quickly decided that a few thousand words about Riku's "orbs" (Oh I do HATE that word...) would not do. So, Viola, another apartment fic. I know what you're saying. I have added another one into the pot of apartment fics stew that is already on the verge of overflowing, but I've changed my writing a little, and used my noodle, so maybe mine is more of a soup? Haha!

At any rate, I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own the rich cup of steaming hot chocolate that is Kingdom hearts, but if I did, I'd drink every drop ;3

Give Way

"Sora, I've spent far too much time looking for the perfect one for you to back out now!"

"Maybe it's not such a good idea. Maybe I should just unpack everything and move back at home. Mom probably has dinner ready, and I really—"

"Sora!" Kairi gripped the sides of his face. "You are moving out, and that's final!"


"No buts! Do you really want to be that creepy thirty year old that lives in his parents' house, watching the neighborhood kids through the window?"

He looked at her incredulously. "What? What creepy thirty year old?"

"The point is, you're going, and I'm going to help you load the car."

Sora sighed, pushing his hands in his pockets. It was the big day, the one he had dreamed about for years.

He was moving.

He had decided a while ago that he was reaching the age where parental supervision wasn't necessary anymore. Kairi, several months his junior, had already fled the nest and she was urging him to do the that less than subtle way of hers.

"Sora! You're just standing there!"

His parents hadn't been too bothered by the idea, in fact, Sora ventured to say they encouraged him. He didn't quite know if he liked their reaction, as making a big deal out of their baby boy tearing himself from the warmth and safety of Mommy and Daddy's embrace was what he was kind of looking forward to.

"I'm coming!"

But no, they patted him on the back and handed him the newspaper. What kind of parents casually ejected their precious son out of the home like some house guest that had overstayed his welcome?

But none of that mattered right now, because here he was, standing out on his front lawn, possibly seeing it the last time for a long while.

It was nearly traumatizing.

"How do you know I'll even like it?" He shuffled toward a box marked "Things I should have thrown away a long time ago, but didn't" and heaved it into the back seat. "What if you're wrong this time?!"

Kairi wiped a bit of perspiration from her forehead and hefted another box. "Sora, I've known you better than you've known yourself since we were three. You'll love it, just like you loved the pictures I showed you. Besides, if you don't like it—which you will—you have only yourself to blame."

"I thought I explained that already."

Kairi smirked, ready to open the can of worms Sora had packed himself into. "Oh you did, quite well, actually. The thought of looking for your own apartment gave you a nervous breakdown, so I had to do it for you."

Sora shrugged. So maybe the whole "looking for a suitable place to live" wasn't his forte, however he did give the search an honest try.

He had tried as hard as he could to look for an apartment. He had a little red pen and the newspaper in front of him, ready to attack any possible availability. However, that was about as far as he got, because after a few circles, he did have that aforementioned nervous breakdown. "Not in so many words..."

"If I remember correctly, I believe the move was your idea anyway. Didn't you say something about how it was 'time to make your mark in the world,' or, 'real men don't live with their parents. They make their own rules.'" She smirked.

Sora quickly busied himself with locking and unlocking the door with the remote. "I don't remember that conversation."

"Of course not. Your Y chromosome erases any and all unflattering memories you may have. That's why you'll love your room mate. You both have the same birth defect."

He stuck his tongue out at her and Kairi smiled sweetly. "Come on, you have another half dozen boxes and a closet full of clothes that still need to be loaded in."

When the final box had been secured—and, importuned by Sora, buckled in—it was late in the evening. Kairi was absolutely shaking with excitement, and Sora was just shaking.

"That's the last of it!" She said with a grin. Now, get your skinny butt in that car and get out of here!"

His little blue car sat out on the side of the street, as the driveway had been occupied with Sora's belongings. It looked so sad, so depressing.

The moment he closed that driver's seat door, he would be closing out the sunshine, the childhood memories and the familiarity that he held so tightly in his heart. It was like sitting inside his own coffin...

Never again would his eyes see the same blade of grass as he was seeing it now, so perfect, so welcoming. Sure, he could come back, but it just wouldn't be the same. That blade of grass would grow, then get hacked off by his father's lawn mower, only for it to grow back again. The cycle would continue without him!


Kairi rolled her eyes. "Sora, if you don't stop thinking so loud I'm going to go deaf. I can tell just by looking at you you're having another crazy string of thoughts." She frowned. "And stop staring at the grass like that!"

What was it about women and their lack of sentiment? He acknowledged her with a groan. "Just let me say goodbye to my parents, alright?"

"No!" She shoved him toward the car door. "You've said goodbye to them each time you went in the house to get something else to load. They know you're leaving!"


"Yes, put it in the car!"

His lower lip jutted out and Kairi patted him on the head. "Look, just call me if you need anything, alright?"

He nodded. "Okay." He gave the yard one, final loving prod. " guess I'm outta here. Bye...jerk."

"So long, loser!"

And with that, he started the car, and it inched down the road, several miles under the speed limit. Kairi shook her head. She supposed she'd expect the first phone call in a few hours.

Sora had just driven out of the residential area before he made the first call. The second was when he nearly missed his exit on the highway. The third was during his panic attack, induced after discovering that the gas station where he was didn't carry peach soda like the one at home did. It was about here that Kairi threatened to rip the phone from the jack if he ever called her again.

It took a lot of effort on his part not to call her anyway.

The phone sank deep in his pocket as he leaned against the car while filling it with gas. The gas he really didn't need, but the break that went with it was tempting enough.

He had read the papers over and over again, seen the picture of the apartment so many times that it had become dog-eared. It was clean and perfect, just how he hoped it would be...but...

It was so far away! Going to the grocery store half a block from his house was an adventure to Sora, so a place that wasn't even in the same town was like a trip to the moon. He wouldn't be with his parents anymore. He'd be living with some stranger...a Riku something-or-other, who could have been an axe-murderer for all he knew.

Here he was, on this lonely stretch of road, headed for what he would soon call home. He entertained the thought of going back, just to see his old house; maybe peek in and check up on things, get in a last goodbye, well, another last goodbye.

After all, he wouldn't be returning soon, so he wanted to make sure every inch of the place was burned into his memory. The livingroom, the kitchen, his bedroom. His bedroom...His bedroom! He had been gone only a few hours and already he thought he had forgotten what his old room looked like!

How many posters did he have on the wall?

Was the carpet manilla, or cream?

Did his door still squeak when he closed it at night?

He couldn't forget his old room. It was where he did everything, in fact...wait, when did it become an old room? It was still his. They were trying to take it away from him, make it part of the past! He wasn't ready for it to be old; he hadn't even seen his new bedroom yet!

It was as though his trip was tearing a rift in the space-time continuum. The more miles he put behind him, the bigger the hole until it sucked down his house; the livingroom, kitchen and his bedroom with it's squeaky door and cream (or was it manilla?) carpeting.

Sora was certain another panic attack was going to set in. He rummaged around in his pocket for the cell phone he shouldn't have been using. After retrieving it, he squeezed it hard in his hands, flipped it open and dialed the first three digits.

Then he felt something wet on his shoe.

Looking down with a start, he realized he had overfilled the car and gas was trickling down the side of the car and onto his feet.


Sora flipped the phone closed and put the nozzle back in the cradle. Maybe he'd wait a little longer before he called again.

Hours had gone by, and light was scarce. The dull hum of traffic on either side was monotonous, and the temperature inside the car was moderate . It was under these conditions that most drivers would have a hard time staying awake, but not Sora.

He didn't need a half liter of espresso or a few capsules of no-doze to keep him awake. No, he had the distinct aroma of gasoline wafting about his person to staunch any and all ideas of sleep before they even entered his subconscious.

It was about the time that the smell of gas had started to annoy him that he entered the only residential area he had seen since he had left home. Apartments lined the side of the road like vanilla candles that had just been lit. The yards were prim and clean, just how Sora liked them, and there wasn't a blemish on a single welcome mat.

Maybe Kairi was right—she usually was. Sora might like this neighborhood after all.

Unfurling the crumpled stack of papers he reviewed the address and the picture of the apartment. It should be another block over, he thought.

There, a particularly vanilla-candle-esque looking building sat on the corner. The dim porch light was sophisticated, yet welcoming. He had mixed feelings. It wasn't too late to go back home...well, actually it was, but it seemed like an appropriate thought.

The parking lot he drove in had a series of small garages, unmarked and ownerless. Perhaps it was a sort of first come, first serve basis, which made him wilt a little, as most residents had probably claimed one.

There, in the corner, almost hidden from view was a space, which Sora thought little about using.

He shifted his little blue car in park, and made his way to the entrance to get his paperwork situated with the landlord.

All too quickly the golden key had been dropped into his palm, with the number 173 etched eloquently onto the front.

This was it, here he was. The elevator zipped him up to the proper floor and by then, his legs were shaking.

Precariously, he made his way down the hall, 170, 171, 172. Then he was standing in front of it, his own white door with gold numbers. His own door with squeaky hinges, his own shade of off-white carpeting, the name to which he could have a proper mental argument over.

With all the courage he could muster, which—quite frankly wasn't much—he lifted his heavy fist to the sturdy wood and gave it a quick rap before plunging the key in the hole and twisting. The door opened, and like a portal of light cutting through darkness, the room was revealed and his roommate sat casually on the couch.

"Hey," He said without turning around. "You must be Sora."

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