Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ At the Psychiatrist ❯ Unfittingly Fluffy Cannibalism ( Chapter 3 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chapter Three, in which: Utada Hikaru scares the numbers out of Phil, King Mickey is still emo, Namine wants to eat Zexion, Jack wonders about unfittingly fluffy cannibalism, Sora is a dork in disguise, Riku wants to solve Sora's problems with a cookie, Roxas's eye wiggles, and Axel tells the blond to shut the fuck up.

Non Anime: Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Mystery / Romance | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 04.03.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 5.2K | Visits: 157 | Status: Completed

Jack: PLEASE BOTHER TO FLAME HER FOR ANY REASON, HOWEVER STUPID. UNLESS IT'S TOO STUPID TO EVEN BOTHER TO FLAME ABOUT.

TMES: I'm giving them credits for Wikipedia. Just love all its… fakeness.

Jack: BTW, credits from now on are in italic+underlined. I'M NOT A MARY-SUE! I DARE YOU TO CONTRADICT ME!

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At the Psychiatrist

-Chapter Three-

One of the many things at which Hikaru Utada was uniquely talented at is giving orders.

"Go. To. Bed."

In fact, with just three words (even Phil didn't have the courage to argue), she sent every patient to their rooms, bodies covered entirely with blankets and eyes shining in the dark with fear that she might peek through their bedroom doors' keyholes and start laughing like Orochimaru. Her grievous face would be as pale as a ghost fugitive of exorcism, and her vampire teeth would be so sharp that they could gouge out the roughest of flesh and betray their complexion with their own blood. But the most traumatic thing would be her decision to not use any sort of violence, because she would just decide to send them all to hell with a simple snap of her fingers.

Send the kids to bed right after dinner. No videogames, no TV, no staying up late. Right-o.

Despite this, various patients were outside their boarding territory. Zexion, for example, who had been thrown with the delicacy of an elephant by an infuriated Demyx. Sora, who had been hit by Zexion. Roxas, who had been hit by a kunai (thrown with the same delicacy by the same Demyx). Namine, who had been hit by Simba and his fangs (and a screaming Meg on his back). Axel, who said to the nurses that he was hit by his own chakrams (the additional note being that they were highly unconvinced). And finally, of course, Riku, who had fainted earlier at midday.

Also, note that the head of the hospital herself, Utada Hikaru, set up the room arrangements. Namine was to be sharing a room with Zexion, Sora undoubtedly with Riku, and, duh, Roxas with Axel. Pathetic.

“Pathetic,” Jack commented with acerbic disposition as he and King Mickey made their way to the boarding rooms. “You actually expect me to believe that, all this time, from when I left you with Rukia-san up `til now, you've been to the bathroom?”

King Mickey shrugged torpidly.

“And you actually expected me to stay in the room with that girl showing up drawings that have the ability to turn you blind?”

“Don't you use that tone with me,” Jack replied with a composed voice disguising the feelings in his words.

A large and unbefitting smirk decorated the mouse's face.

“Or else?” he lampooned simply.

“Or else,” continued the redhead with the same attitude, ignoring the other's rude behavior, “I could do something really nasty to you… and your friends… and your mentor.”

“Hmm…” King Mickey didn't seem in any way affected by his threat. “Do as you wish.”

Jack nodded impassively, “Alright.”

They kept walking quietly, neither of them seeming to consider the presence of the other. The sight of two of them walking together side by side along the white, wide, not-so-crowded corridors with occasional colourful posters was just… wrong. But then again, everything was wrong about King Mickey, thought Jack. It wasn't like he had never seen a talking animal (especially when he's been spending a great many years shopping in the Moogle's Attic here in Traverse Town); in fact, there were many variations of creatures from talking to non-talking, white to black, small to big all over the world. The trouble was that… shoot him, he didn't know what the trouble was. Maybe he felt terribly awkward in the presence of the King because the guy was oversized. And so were Queen Minnie, Donald, and Goofy. The rest of them he could deal with, but this group of queer beings chagrined him to no end - beauty was deeper than skin, in their case. Next idiosyncrasy being that the mouse had a sense of familiarity hanging around him.

The passageway was becoming livelier in tone as they proceeded. At last, the figure of an opaque swinging door came to view. Jack pushed the door open, inviting King Mickey to enter first. The chamber they entered looked like a commodious, circular lounge; mahogany velvet sofas were arranged along the room's circumference with supplementary footstools and coffee tables of equal exorbitant quality. In the centre, there was an enormous gate-leg table with cushioned stools around it,

“Either you rest in here, or go straight to your room,” Jack pointed to the stairways at the back of the lounge. “Meanwhile, I'll go check up on your injured friends. Is that OK with you, Mickey-sama?”

King Mickey was too busy in concluding that he genuinely hated his name to attempt a reply.

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“Has anyone ever tried to put Namine and Zexion in the same sentence?”

This was the first thought Jack had when he set foot in the room where Namine and Zexion were lying on their beds. Oh, there's a sentence! `When I entered the room, I saw Namine and Zexion lying on their respective beds.' Perfect. He quickly wrote that in his notepad. Then… `Suddenly, Namine opened her eyes at a ridiculous width and started waving her arms around while singing “You're my Cuppycake.” Good one. `Unfortunately, she hit Zexion, who woke up brusquely and shook his head around blinking, possibly trying to recognize his surroundings.'

“Where am I?” the lilac-haired young men asked to no one in particular. “Why do I smell pasta?!”

Namine had now started laughing like a maniac.

“GO BACK TO SLEEP, BASTARD! GWAHAHAH!”

Zexion directed his semi-dormant eyes towards Namine and, with the voice of someone who didn't have a nose at all, slurred, “Why?”

“WE'RE GONNA HAVE LOADS OF FOOD! GWAHAHAH! WE'RE GONNA EAT LOADS OF ITALIAN FOOD! WE'RE GONNA HAVE A BIG DINNER! GO TO SLEEP SO WE CAN COOK YOU AND EAT YOU ALIVE! WE'RE HUNGRY!”

`No wonder she has eating disorders. And she said they're hungry.' That should sum it up.

“Who's hungry?” Jack asked.

Zexion turned to him. His eyes were now completely blank.

“The 13th Order,” he replied with his drowsy voice.

Namine instantly stopped laughing. Jack paused the curvy movement of his pen and made a quick reconnaissance of Zexion, his eyes narrowed.

“They're a bad group,” the doctor managed to murmur in the most careful way.

As in a trance like her roommate, Namine climbed out of her bed and treaded softly over to Zexion's. Jack didn't stop her.

“Bad or good,” she commented, her voice magically turning normal, “I don't know. And I don't wanna know.”

Jack licked his lips, “How so?”

“Because, asshole,” replied Namine with indifference, “They're a group of cannibals who want to eat you whole. So stop licking your lips. It's fuckin' disgusting.”

Like hell he was going to stop licking his lips. It wasn't his fault if they were always dry. How could anyone survive without licking their lips, especially if they were dry? And besides, eating lasagne at 10 `o clock in the morning was a more disgusting action than licking your lips. No, wait, how was licking your lips disgusting in the first place? If something were to be disgusting, it would be having your tremendously blonde hair simple and un-styled. It would be having your repulsively long eyelashes overlapping your repellently azure eyes all the time. It would be keeping your lips always pursed into a straight and expressionless line 24/7. It would be wearing your pyjamas in public. It would be being so slim that you could be easily passed as a spaghetto or two glued together. It would be having your pyjamas of a nauseating white color and of an equally nauseating size. It would be showing off your… Crap.

“I'm not tasty,” Jack frowned as he pushed away all his prior thoughts about Namine's… body.

“They don't care, they want to eat you anyway,” snorted the girl, oblivious to her physician's previously probing navy eyes. “To that end, they're desperately searching for something.”

Jack sighed.

“What?”

The blonde started to smirk, and snuck her hands around Zexion's neck. Jack immediately fished out his cellphone from his pocket.

“Kingdom Hearts,” snoozed Namine as she threw herself on Zexion.

Several nurses rushed through the door and into the room, running swiftly to the blonde lunatic and attempting to stop her from eating her victim. If Jack hadn't known Ms. Utada since 8th Grade, he would've thought that this was an impossible situation for five or six fragile little nurses to deal with. Fortunately, in his case, he knew his superior well enough to believe that she'd never employ a nurse, doctor, cleaning-lady, garbage-man, etc. without first being sure that they had taken karate lessons. If they hadn't, she'd supply the training facilities (luckily not being present in them herself or everyone would have been dead by now). And if they couldn't make it, they would have to forget the job.

Jack covered his ears and closed his eyes, refusing to absorb the violent sounds and images in front of him.

“TAKE THIS, BIATCH! HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Namine instantly blacked out and harshly fell on the floor. Jack tottered to Zexion and rested a reassuring hand on the pale boy's shoulder.

“Don't worry, Zexion-kun,” he beamed at Zexion with one of his most genial smiles, “I'll send Demyx-kun here first thing tomorrow morning, okay?”

He then shot a look of impure antipathy at the unconscious girl and ran out of the room.

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Sora won't talk to Riku. Riku won't talk to Sora. This never-ending cycle was beginning to bother both boys, but no one seemed to prevent it from prolonging. Riku wanted to, but couldn't find any way to do so. Usually, in cases like this (which happened all the time between him and his best friend Mickey), he'd mentally consult all the movies, reality shows, and books he watched and read to understand how to act when you wanted to reconcile with someone. With Mickey, those solutions never worked nor were needed since they always made peace in the most abrupt, peculiar and unexpected way (like that one time when he was super angry at Mickey because he wouldn't give him a cookie, but calmed down when he saw that, in the end, he gave it to a very persisting Sora; Riku didn't have any reason to raise his wrath then, so he went up to Mickey and said that he had done the right thing). But Sora wasn't Mickey, therefore they weren't best friends (boyfriends? Go figure!) and Riku highly doubted that if he gave Mickey a cookie Sora would come up to him and tell him that he did the right thing.

Riku widened his sheer aquamarine eyes.

That's it! Person A is angry at person B, so person B gives a cookie to a third-party person (C) so that person A comes up to person B and tells him/her that he/she did the right thing and they're friends again. So… what are the variations? Mickey is angry at Riku, so Riku gives a cookie to a third-party person (Sora) so that Mickey comes up to Riku and tells him that he did the right thing and they're friends again. A voice deep into the deepest deeps of his very deep mind told him that something was wrong with this speculation. Then what about: Riku is angry at Sora, so Sora gives a cookie to a third-party person (Mickey) so that Riku comes up to Sora and tells him that he did the right thing and they're friends again? It sounded realistic at first, but how was he going to convince Sora to give a cookie to Mickey? Maybe he should replace Mickey with someone else - someone Sora would die to give a cookie to, or possibly someone who would die to have a cookie… Namine?

“YOU'RE MY HONEYBUN, SUGARPLUM, PUMPKY-YUMPKY-YUMP-KIN, YOU'RE MY SWEETY PIE! YOU'RE MY CUPPYCAKE-”

Yep, that was definitely Namine he was hearing from the other room.

“She's high on amphetamines again.”

Sora seemed to talk to himself rather than Riku. The silver-haired boy took this occasion to his advantage.

“What?” he asked, intending to start a conversation that would (propitiously) lead to the friendship that never was.

Sora sighed.

“Long-term amphetamine abuse can induce psychological effects like mental states resembling schizophrenia,” he stated very formally.

Riku gaped at the brunet; he never knew that Sora and Jack-sensei were related. Before he could reply in any way, Namine's high-pitched voice was heard again.

“GO BACK TO SLEEP, BASTARD! GWAHAHAH!”

Sora dilated his eyes towards the ceiling.

“… And, in some cases …” he continued bleakly, while black, clambered marks started to become visible under his eyes, “… It may generate insomnia.”

The door hastily opened with a BANG! and closed again with a second BANG!. The two boys, scared shitless, made out the familiar figure that just entered to have carmine red locks flying with the wind and intense indigo eyes full of anxiety gazing from behind them.

“Riku…” Jack panted heavily and sprinted over to the said boy, “You're alive!”

Riku thought that if it wasn't an issue of his, it was some supernatural power Jack-sensei was controlling him with, making him blink his eyes every time they talked.

“Say wha?” he mumbled, perplexed.

Jack sunned him with a heartening smile, “And I who thought that the nurses had killed you already!”

Riku regretted for asking him that question. Next time, he'd keep his mouth shut and make other people keep their mouths shut as well, so that that bitch of a fate won't decide to make their every word come to life.

“Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiku-kuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!”

A number of nurses rushed past Jack and violently glomped the mentioned boy. Riku thought he lost several limbs at the process, and it amazed him, almost in a fascinating way, the fact all he felt at the moment could actually be described with a four-lettered simple word which began with `PA' and ended with `IN'. Figures that he'll always platonically love Jack-sensei for saving his (and that shitty little bastard of Roxas's) ass every time with his camera, despite his very frustrating and eerie power to make people blink.

“Ladies,” Jack cleared his throat while giving the dirty-minded nurses a gentleman smile, “May I kindly ask you to leave this room? Ms. Utada will be visiting any moment.”

Jack took another photo of the nurses, this time with their faces showing the utmost look of excruciating horror.

“I'm sorry,” Jack apologized after all the terror-stricken nurses had exited, “I had to bring about the name of my boss, or you would've died. So it may rejoice you to know that it was a lie. And… well,” Jack grinned sheepishly at the two, scratching his hair, “I got to go. See you tomorrow, Sora-kun, Riku-kun.”

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Ms. Utada will be terribly happy to glue this new photo on the blank page beside that picture of Ansem I already gave her, thought Jack.

Next room? Ah.

The couple of the couples. The dream of every matchmaker. Every shounen-ai/yaoi fangirl's favorite meal. Jackwell Greengrass Productions are proud to present: AKUROKUTION!

… If only this enthusiasm didn't go ignored by the protagonists of the show.

“I still don't think it's the kunai that's making my eye wiggle!”

“But your eye never wiggled before!”

“Actually,” Roxas contracted his sapphire eyes in order to focus on his memories, “Now that you mention it, I think that I did feel it squirming like a worm one time or two…”

Axel seemed to be surprised to hear this new information. In any way, Jack was; eye-wiggles? And no, it wasn't as if Jack never heard of anyone whose eyes wiggled (`Oh my gosh! Eyes! They wiggle! Wow! How gross!'). What stunned him was that Roxas said that his eye, singular, the one that was hit by the ever-popular kunai, a.k.a. his right eye, was the only one wiggling. The kunai had not stabbed the eye; it had merely made contact with it with its unsharpened end. Eye wiggling was, in most circumstances, a disease.

“What about your other eye?” Axel inquired, inclining his head towards the petite blond, attempting to have a good look at his left eye.

Roxas blinked, “Oh, that. I never told you before, did I?” he grinned with great pride. “It's made of glass.”

Jack retreated more into the shadows of the corner of the room until he was sure he had camouflaged himself completely, but still being aware of his two patients' actions.

“Wow! It looks real,” continued the redhead at the other side of the room as he traced his thumb under Roxas's glass eye, “It's the same color of the original one.”

The blond nodded enthusiastically, “I know! Mr. Ansem gave it to me that time when that Riku-bastard took Sora's key and… stuff. Remember?”

Axel's vibrant green eyes darkened until they turned into a somber shade of emerald. Jack could only presume that Axel was going to beat the shit out of Riku for having used Sora's key to… do something to Roxas's eye (and he didn't feel like knowing what it was that he did). Roxas seemed to understand his best friend's intentions too. He promptly started to speak at a speed, as if to cover up his earlier words.

“Er, to be honest, I like this new eye, you know!” he exclaimed in a fretted attempt. “It's more comfortable than the other one! It doesn't wiggle! It looks cuter! It looks better! It never cries! It will never need any lenses! It never decays! It will never catch any eye-disease! It's fluorescent! It can look clearly even in the dark! It's like Mad-Eye Moody's eye! It's cooler that the Byakugan and the Sharingan put together! It-“

Axel reached to him with his long, emaciated-looking arms and austerely pushed the younger male into his chest.

“Just…” the towering man whispered with ardour into the soft dirty blond spikes pressing themselves to his face.

His graceful palms landed softly on each side of the waist of the porcelain creature finding shelter into his body, bestowing protection upon him.

“Just… shut the fuck up, Roxas.”

Roxas instantly abandoned the trail of his voice and befell immobile. He whimpered.

“… Ok.”

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Authoress's Notes: +112 more than the Prologue, 3014 words. Shorter than expected since I cut the last part and added it to the beginning of the next chap…

TMES: Credits go to a few people. Jo, I love you for making Dumbledore gay, but I hate you for not mentioning so in the books. Whatever, thanks anyway. Mr. Director (sorry, forgot your name), you did a great job with the HP fifth movie in comparison to that fourth piece of shit. Mr. Director Gore Something-inski, you rock big time, and so does Jack Sparrow. Thanks to all of you for inspiring me. Oh, by the way, I love you too, Leo.

Jack: Leo who? Your ex? Or Leotordo (Pigwidgeon's name translated in Italian)? I hope the latter… Either him or the ninja turtle.

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