Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ Tell me you love me ❯ Alleyways and Altercations ( Chapter 2 )

Flightworks: Ohayo! The illustrious lady flight here bringing to you another precious installment of TMYLM - it's a poor acronym I know. Either way thank you for watching us as we pull out all the stop into bringing you a fresh and warm boy's love story to make you melt in your shoes and a little hot under the collar - if we ever get that far.

 

Disclaimer: We own nothing -____-; Not even our own lives belong to us so the Kingdom Hearts series is way out of our league

 

 

Tell me you Love me

Written by Flightworks

Additional help provided by Kuroi Yuki

ACT TWO: Alleyways and Altercations

 

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Night swallowed the streets and blackened the sky, stars rendered obsolete by the glittering intensity of the city lights. It was March and as expected the nights still held fast to a dulled chill that reminded everyone of the winter that had passed. The air was too cold for the light jacket he had fled the house with but at this point they had likely figured out that he wasn't in his room, turning back wasn't an option. It wasn't unbearable, just inconvenient. His breath rose from his lips in hot plumes of smoke to swirl into the atmosphere and disappear. Roxas sort of wished he could do the same right now actually.

 

As he shuffled down sidewalk, moving along with the thinning crowd, he distantly berated himself for reacting to his every impulse. So far, listening to his instincts was leaving him with a number of unpleasant events to process and evade - or worsen as the case might be.

 

The boys at school, he could have ignored them, apologized for his attitude and left matters as they were. But instead, he had provoked them. The brawl in the Gym's equipment room had cost him; so much so that the satisfaction he received from beating them just didn't measure up. Not that he necessarily liked being the bad guy of all things, he just fit the bill.

 

At home he could have sulked in the comfort of his bedroom, and yet where was he now? Cruising the lamp lit streets of his neighborhood with no real destination in mind, freezing because he'd been too stupid to listen to anyone. If he ever returned (and that's a very big If) his mother would be livid, his brother would be disappointed and the punishment that was waiting to be doled out would undoubtedly be harsher.

 

Where had his life gone? What about all the goals he's set for himself? No college was going to take him for the reputation he had built within the first few months of his sophomore year, not to mention the disastrous first year of high school.

 

Glumly, Roxas set his gaze to the sky with its few misshapen wisps and felt the harrowing sting of tears behind his eyes welling up. He wouldn't cry damn it! The reason he was so disliked at school, the cause of his misfortune, it was all Sora's fault. If he wasn't so damn perfect all the time, he wouldn't always be compared to him. If his brother could be a little less wonderful, people might see Roxas for who he was as a person and not just as Sora's brother.

 

An ache crawled up into his chest, creating a vice around his lungs and choking him. He blamed the cold. Fervently rubbing his arm over his face to banish the tears threatening to fall, he breathed past them slowly. He knew he was wrong, he might not accept it but he was aware that none of what was happening was in fact, Sora's fault. His brother hadn't picked up the hockey stick and pegged a teenager in the back of his head with it. Sora hadn't even been the one to suspend him nor had he been the cause of the multitude of other incidents that had occurred. All of that had been his own doing, choices that he had made for himself. They couldn't be blamed on his fraternal twin.

 

His naked hands were feeling the bite of the cold even through the pockets of his jeans now. Sora had yet to find him - wait, why was he hoping for that? If his goody-two-shoes sibling found him then he'd have to endure the long walk home listening to a righteous tirade. He might not hate his brother but there was room for it to evolve.

 

Muttering an incoherent string of curses as he exited the quaint neighborhood and, on a whim, started heading toward the subway station. He didn't have his wallet on him and there wasn't exactly any place he could think to go, he wasn't even really thinking where he was going as he passed the convenience store that glowed on the corner. But his walk was immediately cut short, leaning against the far end of the building were the very same boys who had tried to corner him in the Gymnasium. All of them had black hair, a scruffy and unattractive bunch with bandages to show for their failed ambush.

 

His heart skipped a beat, its natural rhythm disturbed as he saw the trio who had yet to become aware of his presence. With any luck he could sneak over to the other side of the street - shit, one of them looked.

 

Roxas felt a nervous warmth rising from the pit of his stomach as the shortest of the teens looked up, mouth wide as he laughed and looking in Roxas's general direction. For a moment he seemed oblivious to the blonde-haired boy watching them, so engrossed in his friends that he even turned away from him and rejoined the conversation. Sadly, immediately afterward his gaze shot right back to him with a mixture of disbelief and fear. And like the pack animals they were the other two raised their faces and followed their friend's line of vision, pinning their eyes on Roxas who tensed beneath their gazes. He hadn't been afraid of them when they'd jumped him in the gym, now, outside of school, he felt greatly disadvantaged.

 

Hastily he crossed the street, completely ignoring the road signals and the fact that the light was green. He came two inches from being rammed by a sports car he didn't recognize sending the driver into a flurry of angry words as he broke into a gallop to escape oncoming traffic. But it was too late; the trio had seen him and was quickly closing in.

 

Whatever, he could lose these punks. He was well versed in the art of running away so evading capture would be easy enough.

 

Without further contemplation he broke his light jog and booked it.

 

The wind whipped his hair away from his eyes - or on the off chance into them, as he sprinted down the sidewalk barely avoiding an outright collision with startled pedestrians and the occasional animal. Pumping his arms in time with his strides, he spared a glance over his shoulder to see if the cronies were still on his trail. They were. Even the third guy who looked like he was about to have an asthma attack, was keeping pace with the others. Although instead of weaving within the crowd, they were carelessly mowing them down. He almost swore he saw the last one of them shove an old lady walking her mutt.

 

Growling to himself, Roxas picked up the pace. He knew that there was a street that bisected this one, a residential area where he could make a clean getaway. He saw the corner and turned sharply to duck into it. Problem, it wasn't the right corner. Roxas skidded to a halt finding himself not only on the wrong street, but a dark, dead end alleyway with a brick wall blocking his path. “Why does it always have to be a brick wall!?” he snarled loudly, fisting his hair and frantically turning around to escape the trap he'd led himself into. Second problem, the boys were at that end.

 

Their shadows stretched into the alley and he felt sweat trickle down his neck as he faced them.

 

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“Take it easy Red.” The store clerk hollered cheerfully waving one pudgy arm after the exiting customer who returned the gesture with a little less enthusiasm. “You too old man.” Was the nonchalant response from the teen, affectionately dubbed Red.

 

Tall and lanky, the youth was thin, the curves of his body emphasized by the black trench coat that hugged his frame. Sporting a pair of form-fitting blue jeans and a plain white T one couldn't necessarily judge by his attire his credibility - it was mostly his features that gave people the wrong impression. A slender face with narrow green eyes, a sharp nose hovering over thin lips and two purple teardrops beneath either eye. And his namesake red hair was a fashionable disarray of spiked locks that pulled away from his face and bobbed as he walked. In short most people thought he was a playboy, maybe even a worker at a host bar, on one occasion he'd even been mistaken for a thug. He still didn't know how that had come about.

 

Breathing in the cool night air he paused outside the convenience store and idly fingered the pack of cigarette's he'd just purchased, listlessly watching the slow-moving crowds pass him by. He could say honestly that this was possibly one in a handful of Friday nights where he had nothing to do. It was absurd. All his usual hook ups were either out of town, attending business or just not available. He didn't feel like surrounding himself with strangers and had no desire to get pawed at by tipsy club girls - or on the off chance guys.

 

Shrugging his collar up he opened the package and neatly popped the filter of one between his lips before he stashed the rest in his pocket, fumbling for a lighter. As he did the squeal of tires broke his concentration and like any other, sensible human being would, he looked up to see what had caused all the commotion.

His attention was drawn to the frantic driver screeching to a stop to avoid striking a blonde teen who wildly stumbled across the road to the sidewalk.

 

`So it's true what they say, Blondes are total ditz's.' He laughed inwardly before watching three more teenagers darting across the street, closing in on the first. For a moment, he was almost able to assume that all four boys were friends and they were just horsing around - until he saw the frantic expression on the blonde kid's face that belied that theory.

 

Now, typical Japanese people might look at all the factors and determine that the youth who was being chased was in trouble. But they also wouldn't do anything about it. They would sooner turn a blind eye to the misfortunes of another person than risking their own neck to save them. Actually, most people could be like that, never mind just the Japanese.

 

Normally he'd just ignore all this with the rest of the law-abiding citizens, shirking off any moral obligation to see that wrongs were righted. But then again…He had been complaining about boredom, hadn't he?

 

Rolling the cigarette between his lips, he ambled with his usual slowness to the crosswalk and patiently waited for the light to change. No need to inspect the grill of an oncoming car as he tried to follow the four students playing their dangerous game of tag.

 

When the light flashed crimson he shuffled along with the other crossing pedestrians and headed down the walkway, becoming vaguely aware that his pulse had quickened and that he himself had begun walking faster. Excited and not sure why, he sped up and watched as the trio he'd spotted chasing the blonde duck into an alley and were swallowed by the shadows.

 

He had a choice, he could continue on this reckless path of citizen savior or he could do the smart thing and mind his own affairs and leave the kids to their violent games. It's not like he had a conscience to weigh him down, letting this kid get shanked wouldn't throw a wrench in his life whatsoever. And yet why were his legs moving forward? Why did his hand clumsily drop into his coat pocket to feel the cool metal of his cell phone? Why was he now staring into the alleyway, stalking the four teenagers and getting ready to alert the police? `Face it your just crazy, accept it and get on with it.' He smirked as he recognized yet another little flaw upon his already long list of imperfect traits.

 

The four were speaking but the length of the alley made it so he only received their words in muffled strings, all he knew was that the blonde being cornered wasn't looking so hot in front of them. The three aggressors were thick kids, if you wanted to be nice and leave them with a little bit of self-esteem. They were also bigger than their victim and although he didn't know what gripe they had with their outnumbered friend, he knew a few blows from those meaty fists would eventually start to hurt.

 

For whatever reason he was still lurking, some desire not to interfere until absolutely necessary holding him to his position. He stood rooted in place, eyes boring into the backs of the three students and eventually straying to the blonde who met his gaze just long enough to realize they had a spectator. Blue eyes, even in the gloom they shined in the darkness and met his own. They had a weight to them, an unspeakable kind of pressure that made his breath catch in his throat and then release when those eyes were forced away from him as one of the other boys lunged for him. With the connection broken he found he could breathe again and resigned to jumping into the fray now.

 

“A blonde in an alleyway on a dark night being attacked by three goons, sounds like one of those American films if ya ask me.” He piped, loud enough to draw the attention of all the combatants as he sauntered into their line of vision.

 

The boy who had been the first on the attack snarled and their red-haired intruder and somehow he couldn't help but find the expression funny. He looked like a bulldog he'd seen…

 

“Don't get involved, this hasn't got anything to do with you.” Said the most aggressive of the three, the other two looking unconfident but nodded piously. The blonde, though silent thus far, seemed to be saying the opposite. No doubt he didn't want to be left to these three as his eyes darted suspiciously between everyone in the alleyway and then past those in front of him to his potential rescuer.

 

Shrugging his lean shoulders and raising his hands to expose his palms, the red head tried to look as unthreatening as possible, a crooked grin flaring of his pale face. “Now, now, don't get the wrong idea I'm not getting in your way. I know not to get in the middle of something like this.” He agreed and as though to emphasize this began to retreat from the alley, lowering his hands and letting them fall into his pockets. “But,” he smirked, pulling out his phone and flipping it open with his thumb and pressing nine on the keypad. “I know some guys who don't share my morals about youth brutality.” And as he said this his finger glided over toward the number one and lingered there a moment before pushing the glowing key purposefully.

 

The threesome paled simultaneously, one of them looked like he was going to be sick at the thought and didn't wait for clearance to begin running past the others and out of the alley. Down to two wasn't much of a disadvantage but there was the person with the phone ready to call the police so that left the other two hooligans with little choice but to flee. The last one out gave the red-head a vicious shove and said some choice words to the victim before disappearing into the thinning crowds.

 

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Roxas felt all the air rush out of him, he'd been ready to get his ass handed to him just a second ago but now he was standing in a foul smelling alley watching his attackers making a hasty get away. And his savior? Some red-headed punk rocker with the figure of a toothpick. Not what he'd been expecting at all but he'd take what he could get and run with it.

 

One of his would-be assailants gave the man a shove upon exiting, either the guy wasn't expecting it or was as weak as he looked because his back smacked against the wall and he slid down to the floor. Then there was nothing, nothing but the cool drone of the city events and their breathing filled his head.

 

“Hey kid you okay?”

 

Roxas jolted out of his stupor, tensely regarding his rescuer and giving the man what he hoped was an intelligent nod but he wasn't too convinced in his appearance right now. His skin was on fire; his palms were wet with moisture and forehead had developed a thin sheen of sweat. His blood was a constant pulse in his head and he swallowed convulsively, fighting back the fear that had gripped him upon being cornered.

 

“Man, what'd you do to piss that bunch off, huh?”

 

Roxas wasn't sure if the man was trying to be conversational or if he was genuinely interested as to why the three stooges had tried to murder him in plain sight. He clammed up, something that never happened anymore and reflexively he looked to the ground - the same reaction he gave his mother when he didn't want to look her in the face and tell her just how messed up inside he was.

 

“Fine, don't tell me. You're just lucky that worked.” The man muttered with an enigmatic grin that snared his attention for an instant. There it was again, that strange feeling of being anchored to something truly solid. It had happened just a few minutes ago when their eyes had met. It was like he could finally feel the ground beneath his feet, an unfamiliar security that had no basis at all.

 

“Wha…?”

 

“I mean I haven't bought a phone card this week. I got no minutes.” He said swinging his phone by its strap with another smile as he began sauntering out of the alley.

 

“Stay outta trouble kid.” He bayed as he rounded the corner and entered the flow of people.

 

With the presence gone from the immediate area Roxas was able to realize a few crucial details. First of all he was on the brink of a heart attack considering it was throwing itself at its boney barricade in his chest. Second, he hadn't been any sort of coherent during that conversation and hadn't thanked the man. Not that he made a habit of thanking people even when they deserved it. And lastly, it was eleven at night. He was so fucking screwed when he got home.

 

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Flightworks: Yatta!! Second chapter is finished and the introduction of both our couples has come about. Now I get to screw with everything *evil laughter followed by series of coughs* Anyways, read it! Review it! Keep me interested in completing this story! Want more give me feedback X3 Ja Ne!!!

 

Kuroi Yuki: Banzai!

 

Flightworks: << Are you jumping out of a plane or something….?

 

Kuroi Yuki: No. Isn't that for celebration? I thought it was. Should I say “Yatta!” instead?

 

Flightworks: It'd make more sense. Hey wait! Get back to the topic! We just finished another chapter anything you want to say Ms. I-do-homework-while-Flightworks-actually-makes-the-story?

 

Kuroi Yuki: Hey! I actually have to get that done and get some sleep so that I can function in school the next day! As it is, I keep falling asleep in class and missing things! ><

 

Flightworks: …and this has what to do with the ending of Chapter two? Ah, forget it and go sleep on the couch already, watch some black cat or that prince of tennis thingy. >P Anyways, we're done here, hope you enjoyed it now GTFO.