Two Boys and a Volleyball, Ch. 1/1
Title: Two Boys and a Volleyball
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (Riku/Sora)
Rating: T, just to be safe.
Warnings: angst, shounen-ai, Sora and Riku acting manry like little girls.
Summary: Sora doesn’t know a thing about volleyball. Riku doesn’t either, and that’s part of why they play.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, as much as it pains me to admit it.
So, I know at least one or two of you are thinking right now, "What the hell is this? This isn't SchifferJacks! Since when does she like Kingdom Hearts?" Well, yeah. It's not SchifferJacks. This is something I wrote in the hopes of breaking my writer's block on a SchifferJacks fic. It didn't work. Also, the title (and concept) was an inside joke from something a friend and I had witnessed earlier that day (namely, two boys and a volleyball, walking down the street) and instantly decided needed to be a Riku/Sora fic. Thanks to zigren and NeuroticNut for the beta work.
At this point the author's note is almost longer than the fic itself, so I'll leave you to it.
( Read it @ Fanfiction.net )
Sora doesn’t know a thing about volleyball. Riku doesn’t either, and that’s part of why they play . It puts them on equal footing again; it makes them both look weak. Neither of them is weak anymore, but sometimes it’s just nice to feel that way.
The sand is like fire between Sora’s toes; sweat rolls down his back and the relentless sun beats against his skin. To his left waves roll and crash against the shore; on his right he can see Tidus, Kairi and Selphie wading in the waterfall’s pool with their pant legs rolled up to their knees. In front of him is Riku:
Riku, his hair tied in a ponytail, his chest and shoulders red from the sun, wearing yellow swim trunks with big tropical flowers on them. He’s taller now-a lot taller-but then again he’s always been taller than Sora. He’s always been bigger and better at everything than Sora, and now that that’s not true, now that Sora’s stronger-in one way, at least-things have been awkward between them. Sora doesn’t like it, but he knows if they talk about it things will only get worse. It’s because they’re guys, and guys don’t talk about their problems.
Riku jumps and tips the ball back over the net.
Sora dives for it, but the sand isn’t made for jumping. It isn’t like the cobbled streets of Traverse Town, or the paved alleys of Hollow Bastion, or the tiled floors of Castle Oblivion. The sand is as foreign to him now as any place ever was. It slides out from under his feet and he tumbles, rolling on the beach; the sand sticks to his back and hair.
He turns over onto his back and doesn’t get up. Above him the sky stretches blue and wide and cloudless, perfectly unbroken except by the glare of the sun . He’s sick of volleyball. He’s sick of fishing, he’s sick of swimming, he’s sick of racing down the beach. Everything they used to do, everything that he used to miss; he’s sick and tired of all of it.
He longs for the feel of cool metal in his palm, and calls up his keyblade out of habit. It doesn’t appear-because it never appears, it doesn’t belong to him anymore- and he feels tears sting his eyes and blinks them away before they can betray him.
Riku walks over , ducks under the net, and sits cross-legged next to Sora, but he doesn’t say anything. Sora can guess what he’s thinking about, since Sora’s thinking about the same thing.
“What are we doing here, Riku?” Sora asks. He keeps his voice low so the others won’t hear him, but they aren’t paying any attention to them anyways.
Riku doesn’t say anything, because Sora already knows why they’re there. He reaches out and grabs Sora’s hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth across the knuckles.
“Let’s run away,” Sora says, not for the first time, and Riku says “Yeah,” but they don’t get up, and they don’t leave.
Sora hears Kairi laugh and turns his head so he can’t see Riku’s face. She still belongs here. She hasn’t changed like they have; she’s lost her heart, but she’s got it back, and it’s just like new. She’s been split in two just like Sora, but she doesn’t know what it’s like to have half her suffering from the agony of loss. She’s never been swallowed by the darkness, like Riku. She’s never fought across countless worlds to find her friends. She’s never killed someone.
She still seems as carefree as she ever did, and Sora has to wonder if she even understands what happened to her-what happened to all of them.
Sora pulls his hand away from Riku, stands up and starts walking home before the anger can take hold of him again. He hates being mad at Kairi; it isn’t her fault that she isn’t suffering with him. That she isn’t clinging to a past that only brought pain. She’s moved on, which is the healthy thing to do. The normal thing. Still, Sora can’t help but feel a little betrayed .
He can hear Riku following him, but he doesn’t acknowledge him. He knows he’s being distant with Riku, and that none of this is Riku’s fault either. Not the restlessness he feels; not the longing he has for his old life; not the discontent of knowing he has nowhere else to go. Except that, in a way, it is Riku’s fault. It’s all his fault. If he hadn’t-
But Sora stops himself before that thought can develop any further. He stops walking, turns and looks at Riku. They’re halfway home by now, out of earshot and eyeshot.
“Sora,” Riku says, but Sora doesn’t let him say any more.
“I can’t take this anymore, Riku,” Sora says. Riku still has the volleyball, Sora notices. “I can’t just pretend like nothing happened.”
“You don’t have to,” Riku says.
Sora laughs, but there isn’t anything funny about it. He can feel the tears slipping out, pooling in the corners of his eyes. He feels crazy. Maybe he is.
“I do, though!” he says. “We all do! We’re supposed to forget it all and move on with our lives.” The tears are sliding down his cheeks; he stares at the ground because he can’t bring himself to look Riku in the eyes. “I can’t just get over it.”
Riku drops the volleyball and takes Sora’s face in his hands, wipes away Sora’s tears with his thumbs. He kisses Sora’s forehead and whispers, “It’s alright, it’s okay,” but Sora only cries harder. He wraps his arms around Sora’s shoulders and Sora presses his face into the crook of Riku’s neck, hugs him around the waist. Riku has a sunburn, but he lets Sora hold him anyways.
Riku has always been there for Sora. Even when it seemed like he was the enemy, the thing that kept Sora fighting was Riku, and the thought of bringing Riku home with him. Now that they’re home, the only thing he wants is to leave and take Riku with him.
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (Riku/Sora)
Rating: T, just to be safe.
Warnings: angst, shounen-ai, Sora and Riku acting manry like little girls.
Summary: Sora doesn’t know a thing about volleyball. Riku doesn’t either, and that’s part of why they play.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, as much as it pains me to admit it.
So, I know at least one or two of you are thinking right now, "What the hell is this? This isn't SchifferJacks! Since when does she like Kingdom Hearts?" Well, yeah. It's not SchifferJacks. This is something I wrote in the hopes of breaking my writer's block on a SchifferJacks fic. It didn't work. Also, the title (and concept) was an inside joke from something a friend and I had witnessed earlier that day (namely, two boys and a volleyball, walking down the street) and instantly decided needed to be a Riku/Sora fic. Thanks to zigren and NeuroticNut for the beta work.
At this point the author's note is almost longer than the fic itself, so I'll leave you to it.
( Read it @ Fanfiction.net )
Sora doesn’t know a thing about volleyball. Riku doesn’t either, and that’s part of why they play . It puts them on equal footing again; it makes them both look weak. Neither of them is weak anymore, but sometimes it’s just nice to feel that way.
The sand is like fire between Sora’s toes; sweat rolls down his back and the relentless sun beats against his skin. To his left waves roll and crash against the shore; on his right he can see Tidus, Kairi and Selphie wading in the waterfall’s pool with their pant legs rolled up to their knees. In front of him is Riku:
Riku, his hair tied in a ponytail, his chest and shoulders red from the sun, wearing yellow swim trunks with big tropical flowers on them. He’s taller now-a lot taller-but then again he’s always been taller than Sora. He’s always been bigger and better at everything than Sora, and now that that’s not true, now that Sora’s stronger-in one way, at least-things have been awkward between them. Sora doesn’t like it, but he knows if they talk about it things will only get worse. It’s because they’re guys, and guys don’t talk about their problems.
Riku jumps and tips the ball back over the net.
Sora dives for it, but the sand isn’t made for jumping. It isn’t like the cobbled streets of Traverse Town, or the paved alleys of Hollow Bastion, or the tiled floors of Castle Oblivion. The sand is as foreign to him now as any place ever was. It slides out from under his feet and he tumbles, rolling on the beach; the sand sticks to his back and hair.
He turns over onto his back and doesn’t get up. Above him the sky stretches blue and wide and cloudless, perfectly unbroken except by the glare of the sun . He’s sick of volleyball. He’s sick of fishing, he’s sick of swimming, he’s sick of racing down the beach. Everything they used to do, everything that he used to miss; he’s sick and tired of all of it.
He longs for the feel of cool metal in his palm, and calls up his keyblade out of habit. It doesn’t appear-because it never appears, it doesn’t belong to him anymore- and he feels tears sting his eyes and blinks them away before they can betray him.
Riku walks over , ducks under the net, and sits cross-legged next to Sora, but he doesn’t say anything. Sora can guess what he’s thinking about, since Sora’s thinking about the same thing.
“What are we doing here, Riku?” Sora asks. He keeps his voice low so the others won’t hear him, but they aren’t paying any attention to them anyways.
Riku doesn’t say anything, because Sora already knows why they’re there. He reaches out and grabs Sora’s hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth across the knuckles.
“Let’s run away,” Sora says, not for the first time, and Riku says “Yeah,” but they don’t get up, and they don’t leave.
Sora hears Kairi laugh and turns his head so he can’t see Riku’s face. She still belongs here. She hasn’t changed like they have; she’s lost her heart, but she’s got it back, and it’s just like new. She’s been split in two just like Sora, but she doesn’t know what it’s like to have half her suffering from the agony of loss. She’s never been swallowed by the darkness, like Riku. She’s never fought across countless worlds to find her friends. She’s never killed someone.
She still seems as carefree as she ever did, and Sora has to wonder if she even understands what happened to her-what happened to all of them.
Sora pulls his hand away from Riku, stands up and starts walking home before the anger can take hold of him again. He hates being mad at Kairi; it isn’t her fault that she isn’t suffering with him. That she isn’t clinging to a past that only brought pain. She’s moved on, which is the healthy thing to do. The normal thing. Still, Sora can’t help but feel a little betrayed .
He can hear Riku following him, but he doesn’t acknowledge him. He knows he’s being distant with Riku, and that none of this is Riku’s fault either. Not the restlessness he feels; not the longing he has for his old life; not the discontent of knowing he has nowhere else to go. Except that, in a way, it is Riku’s fault. It’s all his fault. If he hadn’t-
But Sora stops himself before that thought can develop any further. He stops walking, turns and looks at Riku. They’re halfway home by now, out of earshot and eyeshot.
“Sora,” Riku says, but Sora doesn’t let him say any more.
“I can’t take this anymore, Riku,” Sora says. Riku still has the volleyball, Sora notices. “I can’t just pretend like nothing happened.”
“You don’t have to,” Riku says.
Sora laughs, but there isn’t anything funny about it. He can feel the tears slipping out, pooling in the corners of his eyes. He feels crazy. Maybe he is.
“I do, though!” he says. “We all do! We’re supposed to forget it all and move on with our lives.” The tears are sliding down his cheeks; he stares at the ground because he can’t bring himself to look Riku in the eyes. “I can’t just get over it.”
Riku drops the volleyball and takes Sora’s face in his hands, wipes away Sora’s tears with his thumbs. He kisses Sora’s forehead and whispers, “It’s alright, it’s okay,” but Sora only cries harder. He wraps his arms around Sora’s shoulders and Sora presses his face into the crook of Riku’s neck, hugs him around the waist. Riku has a sunburn, but he lets Sora hold him anyways.
Riku has always been there for Sora. Even when it seemed like he was the enemy, the thing that kept Sora fighting was Riku, and the thought of bringing Riku home with him. Now that they’re home, the only thing he wants is to leave and take Riku with him.