Disclaimer:: If I owned Kingdom Hearts, don't you think there's be more RiSo moments?

"Mr. Austerlitz, you have a phone call."

I looked up from the paperwork strewn across my desk. My personal butler was standing in the doorway, his hands folded politely in front of him.

"Ah, thank you, Vexen. You can go now." I shooed him away with my hand

and picked up the receiver, pressing the flashing button on my office phone to take the call. It was amazing how my work seemed to drown out the rest of my life. "Riku Austerlitz speaking."

"Riku, darling!!"

"…" I can avoid all of this just by hanging up.

"Riku Leighton Austerlitz, don't you dare think about hanging up on me!"

"… Hello, Mother," I said, defeated. I should've realized that I wasn't going to get out of this quite that easy. It was my mother we were talking about. He never let someone out of his clutches once he set out to do something, and if he caught you, you could be as sure as hell you weren't getting out any time soon.

Oh, wait, did I forget to mention? My mother is a man. She happens to be the infamous Marluxia Austerlitz, married to the not as famous, but still well-know Xemnas Austerlitz. Maybe you've heard of them.

Before you jump to conclusions, no, my man of a mother did not get pregnant with me, no matter what he tells you. I'm adopted.

"Oh, Riri! I knew you loved me! It's an undeniable fact of li- Xemnas! Turn the volume down on the TV! … I said turn down the volume!" I could hear the phone being set down followed by a crash and a muffled scream. Knowning my mother, she'd just hit my father over the head with a vodka bottle.


See? There's no way I'm related to them.

Don't get me wrong, they're my family, and I care deeply about them. It's just sometimes… Well, I'll give you some examples. My mother is a gay transvestite who just happens to be gender confused and who just happens to feel the need to constantly set me up with a variety of women from her social groups. My father, even at his age, can't keep it in his pants when said women are around, or anyone/anything aesthetically pleasing, really. That includes (by his standards) the pool boy, the floor lamp in the living room, anyone wearing knee socks, and sometimes even the glass pitcher we use at breakfast time for orange juice (hence my loathing towards any citrus).

The crème de la crème has to be my older brother, Demyx, however. He's… he's a piece of work, let's just say. Even though he's also adopted, you'd think he's related by blood what with the way he acts. He's a 1980's reject, to put it nicely. Demyx refuses to join the rest of us here in the 21st century and still has a poorly styled mullet and countless Ziggy Stardust-esque outfits. And the sad part? My mother encourages it. The man's 32 years old for God's sake! But I can't expect much from my mother, now can I? He wakes up and warms up to Lady Gaga. (Just so you know, seeing your mother of all people wearing nothing but stick-on rhinestones telling you he "wants to take a ride on your discostick" as he practically pole dances in front of you is a VERY traumatizing experience. Almost as bad as the orange juice. Almost.)

"Riri, are you even listening to me??"

"Er, yes, Mother, what is it?" I said, putting a mental block on anything related to either of those incidents.

"Well, I have someone I want you to meet!"

I groaned internally. This was the third girl this week.

"Now, before you go and say you aren't interested, hear me out!" He said, realizing the silence he'd heard was never a good sign. "She's got fantabulous credentials. Graduated top of her class from NYU, majored in design, blah, blah blah… Ooh! She's having her collection showcased next week! You should go, Riri! You and me! It'll be our bonding time! We never talk anymore, Riri. It makes Mommy sad that we don't talk anymore…"

In the 27 years of my life, I'd learned two very important things about my family. One, how to get out of watching Labyrinth with Demyx for the umpteenth time, and two, how to drown out my mother. Both were incredibly helpful tools. Now was an opportune time to use the latter. As my flamboyant mother rambled on, I responded every now and then with a simple "That's very interesting, Mother" or "I see", not really paying attention to what it is he was saying as I made an effort to finish the rest of my paperwork. Halfway through what he was saying, there was a low beeping coming from the receiver, meaning there was a call waiting.

"Mother, it seems I have another call on the other line," I said, glad for any escape route.

He gasped audibly. "You're hanging up on me to talk with some stranger? What happened to blood is thicker than water??"

"I'm a businessman, Mother. This could be quite important."


"Goodbye, Mother." I hung up and pressed the flashing button on the phone that said "Call Waiting". "Riku Austerlitz speaking," I said. At this rate, I was never going to finish the business deals this week, let alone by tomorrow.

"Riku! Wassup?"

I knew that voice. It haunted me in my dreams, along with the Goblin King.

"What do you want, Demyx?" I asked. Why was my family suddenly calling me all at once?

"Is that any way to talk to your older bro?" Demyx was whining yet again. The man could win a metal for it.

"I'm a busy man, Demyx. Spit it out."

"All right, all right, God…" He said, muttering something I couldn't make out. "Anyway, you know how Mom thinks you're never going to find a wife and you're going to die a cold and lonely death?"

"Your delicacy about the situation is amazing," I said, sarcasm radiating out of his receiver.

"Moving on! You know how she keeps setting you up with all these different girls?"

"… Demyx, you do realize our mother is a man, right?"

"NO SHE ISN'T! … Anyway, you're gonna love me for this!"

Oh, dear God.

"Demyx, what did you do?" I looked up from my desk upon hearing the double doors open with a click. A figure in a soft pink sundress stood in my doorway, head bowed and hands folded quietly in front of them.

"Meet your new wife!"

I couldn't breathe, but I could feel my face becoming red.

"Well, what do you think?" Demyx asked. My mind had completely frozen over, the phone still glued stupidly to my ear. Once I'd picked my jaw off the floor, I started trembling.

"Demyx…" I said, trying my best to keep calm. "I understand your intentions were nothing but benign, but I think you've overlooked one minor detail."

"Oh?" He said. "What's that?"


"What??" Demyx practically screamed. "That's not what the website said!"

"Website?" I said, practically breathing fire now. "You got this… this man off the internet??"

"It said that Sora was a mail-order bride!" Demyx said defensively.

"Sora? Who's Sora?"

"Your new wife!"

I could feel my blood pressure escalating. "Demyx, I had no say in this, so let me make one thing clear: HE IS NOT MY WIFE!"

"B-but… But look at her! She's so pretty! Or in her language, Ikegami-san wa kirei desu!"

"Demyx…" I said, shaking. "I don't care how kirei the freaking Emperor is! What compelled you to go and-"

"A-Ahsuteritsu-sama," came a voice from the front of my office.

"What?" I snapped, looking up. I took a quick breath in. Sure, I'd seen the person to walk into my office, but I hadn't really looked at him. Hair the color of dulce de leche, but in spikes like a medieval torture device. A pair of baby blue eyes were hiding under his mocha tresses, a light pink blush on his cheeks. My frustration immediately melted. There was something so… so innocent about the man in front of me.

"Hey, Demyx?" I said into the receiver. "I'll call you back."

Without waiting for him to respond, I hung up and walked over to the pink dress-clad man (who was most certainly not my wife).

"Um, Sora, correct?" I asked, not sure what to do in a situation like this. I could feel a cold sweat forming on my forehead. This was not good. There was a tap on my forearm. I looked down, only to see that Sora was handing me a letter, bowing as he held it out to me with both of his hands. I accepted the letter and proceeded to open it. I was expecting it to be pink and girly, what with the "mail-order bride" business.

What I wasn't expecting was the sudden surge of strong, floral perfume raging war against my nostrils. Trying not to breathe in the taste of Yardley English Rose, I pulled the letter out of its pink envelope. The letter itself was pink as well.


Ha, you love me, don't you? Admit it, I'm awesome. Not only did I get you a hot trophy wife, but Mom won't bug you ever again, if you think about it! Haha. You like that? That's my "I'm totally awesome" laugh. I've been working on it. Anyway, treat your new wife right, otherwise she just might get her green card and leave you! Just kidding. (Or am I?) Oh, and that reminds me, I should probably give you some background info 'bout your new boo, huh? Her name's Sora Ikegami, she's 25, and she doesn't speak a word of English! At least she can't nag you like Mom does, eh? Plus, she's pretty hot, if I do say so myself. Don't worry, I won't try to steal your wife or anything. Haha.

Cowabunga, dude!


I was going to kill him.

I was going to kill him, throw his body to the wolves, and then burn his remains.

But I had to admit… Sora was decent-looking… for a man.

Something was off, though. The brunette just seemed so… sad. It was then that I started to regret my decision to take Mandarin instead of Japanese in middle school. I could hold an eloquent conversation in about four languages, minus English, but I'd never felt the need to learn Japanese.

I was going to kill him, but after I found out what was making this young la- er, man, so sad.

Rifling past the pie charts and sales data littering my desk, my eyes couldn't locate the small blue book anywhere. I opened the drawer, only to see that, lo and behold, there it was.

Stop complaining: Monku iuna

Shut up: Damare

Go away: Acchi ni ike

No, this wasn't what I was looking for. Helpful, yes, but not what I was looking for. I flipped a couple pages, thankful that finally the Japanese phrase book I'd bought originally intended for a business trip that never happened was being of use. I skimmed the pages until I found what I was looking for.

"Um… doushita no?" I asked, wincing as I completely butchered the pronunciation.

Sora looked up at me with a surprised look, but then looked down again and shook his head. "Moushiwake arimasen deshita… Ome ni kakarete kouei desu, dema takushii o yonde kudasai."


Sora's shoulders began to tremble as he started crying. I may be a bit withdrawn, but even I'm not heartless enough to turn away someone crying for reasons beyond my comprehension. That's just plain mean.

… Of course, being the withdrawn person that I am, I had no idea how to deal with crying people.

Oh, well. Here goes… everything.

"Uh… Th-there, there," I said awkwardly, avoiding looking directly at him.

Stupid, go give her a hug!

I blinked. That voice sounded too familiar for comfort.

Don't just stand there. Move it!

I wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but I obliged. Or at least, I thought I was going to, until there was about four inches separating us. I hesitated. Should I really listen to this mysterious voice that seemed to be born out of thin air? For as long as I could remember, I'd never taken orders from formless beings. Would now be a good time to start?

"Riri, come on! Your wifey is crying! Console her!"

I could feel the vein in my forehead pulsing. Of course. This voice was no sentient being. In fact, it was the farthest thing from it.

"Demyx, get out from behind my ficus."

The blonde closed his eyes. "If I can't see you, you can't see me! Bahaha! Where do you think I am now, Rir-"

I threw the nearest blunt object, in this case, the Japanese dictionary already in my hand, at Demyx. It hit him square in the forehead, leaving a nicely sized bruise.

"Aw, fu-!" He cut himself off and glared at me as he rubbed his head. "You should be glad there's a lady in the room; otherwise I would've totally owned you with my leet ninja skills!"

"I'm not even going to ask," I said, rolling my eyes. It wasn't worth the trouble. Getting out from behind the ficus, Demyx walked over to the crying Sora and knelt down to be eye-level with him.

"Mou nakanaide, ne?" Demyx said with a smile. "Genki o dashite! Hazukashigaranaide!"

"H-hai…" Sora said, smiling a little as he wiped his eyes.

"Uweh, kawaii desu!" Demyx squeeled, giddier than a schoolgirl. I arched my eyebrow at them. What were they talking about? And how'd Demyx, the King of the Oblivious, know exactly what to say?

"Mr. Austerlitz?" Vexen said, interrupting my thoughts by sticking his head into the room again, the rest of him outside in the hallway. "Your mother and father are here to see you."

"What?" I seemed to be saying that a lot today. "Send them up." Vexen nodded and left the room to go fetch my parents, leaving me to ponder at what could've compelled them to visit me right here, right now. I glanced over at Sora and Demyx. The two of them were talking rapid-fire in Japanese, identical goofy grins on their faces.

"Riri!" Demyx called me over, and I realized that I'd been staring at them. I walked over to the pair, a bit flustered, but kept my cool.

"Be nice to her, now, okay, Riri?" Demyx said, wagging his finger at me. This was ridiculous.

"Well, of course I'm going to be nice to him, but-"


The air was squeezed out of me as my mother picked me up and hugged me. My father just stood off to the side and looked around my office.

"Marly, dear, I don't think he can breathe."

"Oopsie!" He said, dropping me. I inhaled deeply and straightened myself out. "Sorry 'bout that, Riri! I'm just so glad to see you're healthy and everything! Oh, and that reminds me, you'll never guess who your father and I ran into on our way here!"

I grimaced. Please… Not… Not her.

"Larxene!" My mother said happily. "I remember how you said you loved your date last time, so I went ahead and set you guys up for Friday!"

"M-Mother..." I stuttered, the mere thought of the blonde making my knees weak. To be quite honest, Larxene Rousseau scared me, that one. There's just something scary about a ballerina, of all people, who sharpens her nails to a point and paints them black. I needed a scapegoat. Something. Anything.

And then I remembered something very, very important.

"I can't go on a date with Larxene, Mother," I said. This was probably going to come back and bite me later, but as they say, Carpe diem!

"And why is that?" She seemed a little surprised. Like she'd thought I actually wanted to go to dinner with Larxene.

I walked over to Sora and put my arm around his waist. "Mother, I'd like you to meet Sora, my wife."

A/N:: Ohemgee, Chapter One is actually finished! I think I had the most fun writing the bits about Marly more than anything. xD Anyway, thanks to my lovely beta, Tellyounolies, for editing this and giving me lots and lots of suggestions! [Especially the dress bit! xDDD]