Masters of the Dark
Nov. 2nd, 2006 03:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonsheenno ffxii and no pw makes alex a dull girl.
“Oh, man,” said Sora, oozing over the table in the little inn he’d found in this particular town in this particular world. “Fifty gazillion worlds. Not a Riku in sight. And now I can’t find Kairi. Some hero I am.” He stared miserably at his hands. “She didn’t have to run off like that though, geez. Wasn’t it supposed to be five minutes? Didn’t she say that? It’s been, like, five hours!”
“Or three.” The man sitting across from him tipped his head somewhat sympathetically. Sora sighed dramatically and pushed himself up again. He couldn’t exactly remember when the guy had showed up again or why it now seemed so okay to talk to him, but then Sora was used to being chatty and anyway he was lonely and damnit Kairi. Did Donald and Goofy have to go with her, too?
“Or three. You’re right,” Sora mustered a grin. “She’s Kairi! She’ll find her way back! If she has to do it with sticks.” His face faltered only slightly. “… just wish she’d do it sooner.” He sighed again.
The man sitting across from him reached out a broad hand and tapped a finger against the grains in the table. Sora guessed he could’ve looked a bit suspicious—in his experience guys in black coats that talked funny were, but he hadn’t been attacked yet. So it seemed okay. “Some drinks,” said the man, to a passing waitress. Sora realized then he’d met him twice now and still hadn’t asked for his name. “Fine wine is good for the spirit. We’ll be having--”
Sora jerked up quickly. “Oh, uh! Just juice for me!” The man blinked at him, and amended the order. “Sorry,” Sora said, sheepishly. “Thanks a lot, but I’m not allowed to have that stuff yet. My mom’d kill me.”
His companion seemed to take that without too much offense. He smiled. It was the first time Sora could remember seeing him smile. It made him look very fond and very tired, like a good memory from a long, long time ago. “Ah, would she?” he asked quietly. “Yes. That’s the sort of thing Amé would say isn’t it.”
“You know my mom?” asked Sora, blinking.
“In a fashion.”
The waitress returned with the drinks. “No fair!” cried Sora, whatever that weary thing in this guy’s eyes was, it must’ve been contagious. Sora found himself fighting it with every ounce he had. It was an effort. His chest felt heavy, and soon he was leaning into the table again. “Nooo fair. You know my mom’s name, and I don’t even…” He was cut off by a yawn.
“Ashley.”
“… huh.” Sora stared at him through the distortion of his glass of otherworld-fruit-he-hoped-was-orange juice. “…was kinda hoping you’d tell me your name.”
“That is my name.”
“Oh.”
Ashley, as he was apparently called, raised his eyebrows and took a sip of his wine. It seemed there was very little that could offend him. He simply stared down at Sora nearly melting off the table and stated the obvious: “A little past your hour,” he said, “Daresay even the mothers of Keyblade Masters set bedtimes, hm? Rest.”
Hey, Sora wanted to say. I’m old enough for that! But as suggestions went it wasn’t a bad one, and he was so tired that he could feel the edges of Roxas frowning on his consciousness, and his cheek was resting on his wrist anyway so…
When he woke up the guy was gone, there was one cup on the table, Kairi was back and pinching him, Donald was arguing with someone, and his face had developed the imprint of the new keychain that had been draped over his head at some point while he was out. He had no idea where it had come from, but his heart told him its name was Fandango. Which like a weird name for a keychain, but hey, he wasn’t going to complain.
“Oh, man,” said Sora, oozing over the table in the little inn he’d found in this particular town in this particular world. “Fifty gazillion worlds. Not a Riku in sight. And now I can’t find Kairi. Some hero I am.” He stared miserably at his hands. “She didn’t have to run off like that though, geez. Wasn’t it supposed to be five minutes? Didn’t she say that? It’s been, like, five hours!”
“Or three.” The man sitting across from him tipped his head somewhat sympathetically. Sora sighed dramatically and pushed himself up again. He couldn’t exactly remember when the guy had showed up again or why it now seemed so okay to talk to him, but then Sora was used to being chatty and anyway he was lonely and damnit Kairi. Did Donald and Goofy have to go with her, too?
“Or three. You’re right,” Sora mustered a grin. “She’s Kairi! She’ll find her way back! If she has to do it with sticks.” His face faltered only slightly. “… just wish she’d do it sooner.” He sighed again.
The man sitting across from him reached out a broad hand and tapped a finger against the grains in the table. Sora guessed he could’ve looked a bit suspicious—in his experience guys in black coats that talked funny were, but he hadn’t been attacked yet. So it seemed okay. “Some drinks,” said the man, to a passing waitress. Sora realized then he’d met him twice now and still hadn’t asked for his name. “Fine wine is good for the spirit. We’ll be having--”
Sora jerked up quickly. “Oh, uh! Just juice for me!” The man blinked at him, and amended the order. “Sorry,” Sora said, sheepishly. “Thanks a lot, but I’m not allowed to have that stuff yet. My mom’d kill me.”
His companion seemed to take that without too much offense. He smiled. It was the first time Sora could remember seeing him smile. It made him look very fond and very tired, like a good memory from a long, long time ago. “Ah, would she?” he asked quietly. “Yes. That’s the sort of thing Amé would say isn’t it.”
“You know my mom?” asked Sora, blinking.
“In a fashion.”
The waitress returned with the drinks. “No fair!” cried Sora, whatever that weary thing in this guy’s eyes was, it must’ve been contagious. Sora found himself fighting it with every ounce he had. It was an effort. His chest felt heavy, and soon he was leaning into the table again. “Nooo fair. You know my mom’s name, and I don’t even…” He was cut off by a yawn.
“Ashley.”
“… huh.” Sora stared at him through the distortion of his glass of otherworld-fruit-he-hoped-was-orange juice. “…was kinda hoping you’d tell me your name.”
“That is my name.”
“Oh.”
Ashley, as he was apparently called, raised his eyebrows and took a sip of his wine. It seemed there was very little that could offend him. He simply stared down at Sora nearly melting off the table and stated the obvious: “A little past your hour,” he said, “Daresay even the mothers of Keyblade Masters set bedtimes, hm? Rest.”
Hey, Sora wanted to say. I’m old enough for that! But as suggestions went it wasn’t a bad one, and he was so tired that he could feel the edges of Roxas frowning on his consciousness, and his cheek was resting on his wrist anyway so…
When he woke up the guy was gone, there was one cup on the table, Kairi was back and pinching him, Donald was arguing with someone, and his face had developed the imprint of the new keychain that had been draped over his head at some point while he was out. He had no idea where it had come from, but his heart told him its name was Fandango. Which like a weird name for a keychain, but hey, he wasn’t going to complain.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-02 08:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-02 09:38 pm (UTC)M, all starry-eyed with glee.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-02 11:45 pm (UTC)Should have mentioned this before but I think you are a terrificalfantastic writer, please publish a novel someday omg ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-05 04:06 am (UTC)