Kingdom Hearts 2 (Sora/Riku/Kairi)
Jul. 3rd, 2007 10:48 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kinkfestTitle: The Problems With Divine Interference, 1 of 2
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
reversedhymnal
Rating: R in this part
Warnings: VIOLENCE
Word count: 8,270~ in this part
Summary: Nothing ever goes according to plan.
A/N: The first 20 pages of what's closing in on 40 pages. Can't finish it all in time, so here you go. Excuse me for the raping of any and all greek mythology. Have a good read, ♥I'll get back to you on that title, :3
Ares’ entrance was as bold as his very existence. It was a clatter of heavy, golden hooves, and the creak of leather and the clang of armor, as well as the lingering scream of war crows and the scent of bloodshed. Hades knew it instantly, and was automatically looking for a way out.
Ares spotted him immediately, of course. He slid off his warhorse with a landing that shook straight through Hades’ subterranean cave of a kingdom, and said, “Uncle.”
Wincing, Hades collapsed dejectedly back into his throne, watching the other god with half-lidded eyes; the flames of his hair flickered and spat in agitation and nervousness, but stayed as calm a blue as Hades could make them. When he said, “Ares! How good of you to drop by,” it sounded like he was pleased, and he let that façade slide down over him, stretch a macabre grin over his face, and pull his tall body from his throne, up, not reluctant like what he really wanted to do was kill Ares, but, rather, like he was going to hug him in greeting, instead.
The fact that what Hades really wanted to do was to kill Ares – and who wouldn’t? Hades thought behind his lying smile. He’s an unmitigated prick – was only one unfulfilled dream amongst many. The fact that Ares probably would have taken off Hades’ arm was what stopped the god of death from giving him a literally rib-cracking hug.
Black eyes watched Hades from a glowing, tan face, and Hades bristled quietly that he had to look up at the young upstart, rather than down. Ares didn’t smile at him, but then, Ares rarely did.
“Ares, Ares,” he said, all hospitality. “Would you like to sit? A drink? To recount your most recent tales of blood shed and undoubtedly macho valor?” Ares’ horse snorted, and stomped one massive hoof. It cleft the smooth, dark gray of Hades’ stone interior flooring, and Hades eyed it; said through gritted teeth, “We have a new lot of alfalfa out back, for your…fine animal.”
For a moment, Ares looked pleased, and then suspicious. He asked, “Is it another crossbreed with Deadly Nightshade?”
“No, of course not!” Hades smiled, and smiled, and smiled, and zapped a quick note to his lackeys to beware of rampaging monstrosity. “It’s Belladonna.”
“Oh, well in that case.” Ares slapped his warhorse on the flanks, and it reared, gave a scream, and raced off. Very minutely, Hades twitched with the need to take it apart limb by limb. “And now,” Ares said, “to business.”
“Ah.” Hades walked in a cold slither of his robes around his large table, dragging his knotted fingers over the edge lightly. He was looking at his playing board, though to Ares, incompetent that he was, it would merely have been a barren expanse of table. “I see. You’re all grown up now and have no free time to play with your favorite uncle, hm? Oh, fine, fine, if you insist. So go on, lad, tell me: what do you want?”
When Ares cracked a very faint smile, Hades knew he was in trouble. The other god rolled his massive, overly muscled shoulders; his armor clanged, and shone even in the dank light of the Underworld. Hades glared back at the bright. “But Uncle,” Ares said, “I do want to play. You owe me after killing my last horse, you know. Do you realize how hard it is to talk Hephaestus into making me those?”
Hades gave a vicious chuckle, and said, just low enough that he knew he wouldn’t quite be heard, “As hard as it makes you to bone his wife, I would imagine.”
Ares narrowed his eyes in ever-present suspicion and a little uncertain curiosity. “What was that?”
“Oh, nothing!” Hades waved his hand in the air distractedly. He leaned against his table with the other one, watching pieces shift; then he looked up at Ares, and smiled with sharp eyes, and coyly asked, “What makes you think I’ll play with you, nephew?”
Ares shrugged. “I’m bored.”
At that, Hades stiffened in horror, and jerked his gaze back down at the table. Several pieces of his moved, now, because if there was one thing the world – and all the other gods – had to fear, it was a bored Ares. Hades’ hair flickered uncertainly, and he took deep breaths.
“What? Is Aphrodite busy?”
“Unfortunately,” Ares sulked. “We have a date in three weeks, and she said she needed to get ready for it. She takes forever to get ready.”
“Yes, yes,” Hades said dismissively, “Women always do. But what do you want me to do about it? It’s not very entertaining here, let me tell you.” Hades laughed, and his voice was a hiss, “Dim, dark, dank, full of a bunch of deadbeats – get it? Dead..oh, never mind, why am I asking you – and with horrible-”
“Dad’s always going off about you competing with his Coliseum. Hold a cup for me. With good contestants. Or, well,” he shrugged, and his smile was just a touch wider, a thin curve of blood lust. “I can always see how well the Underworld holds up in a war.”
Hades’ hair turned instantaneously red. “No.”
“A cup it is, then.” Ares hadn’t moved from his point of entrance the entire time, but now the war god walked forward in a meandering, confident stride, with a dumb, haughty look on his face. He sat in Hades’ chair, and Hades nearly blew his top. Ares fixed him with a dark look. “Don’t disappoint me Uncle. I want to play, and I only play fun games.”
He whistled for his mangy beast, and then disappeared in a clamoring flash. The minute he was gone, Hades screamed. “PANIC. PAIN. GET IN HERE.”
There were two puffs of smoke, and then his best lackeys were cowering before him.
“Y-yes, H-”
Hades had them both by the throat, and his eyes reflected the furious snap and crackling snarl of his flaming hair. “His horse had BETTER NOT BE DEAD.” Pain and Panic wailed pathetically in his grip from the force of his anger. “This will NOT. HAPPEN. AGAIN.”
Furiously, he threw them down, and strode back to his table in a dramatic swirl of his robe. He stopped in front of his game layout, and took a deep breath, holding it until his flames calmed down to blue. Then he let it go, and smoothed his hands down his robes, shaking himself lightly.
“All right, all right,” he muttered to himself. “You’re cool, man, you’re stone cold dead, you don’t have to let what that little bastard of a play boy said get to you. You just have to do this one little, small thing, and maybe not rip him apart and then mail him back to his father, nooooo. Bad idea.”
“H-hades,” Panic started timidly.
“Shut up,” Hades snapped. “Can’t you see I’m trying to convince myself? Bad idea!”
“B-but sir! Shouldn’t you, um, being trying to figure out how to get contestants strong enough to f-fight Ares in a cu-EEK.”
Hades blew on one smoking finger, not even bothering to look over where he’d just set Pain on fire. “Now, now, boys. Don’t you trust me?” The fire in his eyes cast his face in an unholy light; it caught his smile knife bright and threw him into even darker shadows. “I always have a plan. And this one? Oh, yes,” he chuckled, “It’ll be a real scream.”
*
In one particular circle of hell, the spirits have a motto that they have lived, died, and suffered by: The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Hades blew them kisses for the near-week he waited for his fish to catch his bait.
*
The Coliseum was up and running now, a large, shining thing, with towering spectator seats filled to the brim. Sora used his key to get through one of the side doors Hercules had shown him years ago, when that was the only way you could get in or out, thanks to the damage that had been done to it. Sora hadn’t been able to stop by and see it since they’d finished the repairs, so all he could do for several minutes was stop, and gaze in wonder.
The Coliseum was, if possible, even bigger now, still made up of high marble walls, with lots of bronze vases, and Grecian columns, with beautiful statues of heroes and former contestants. A rendition of Sora sat somewhere near Hercules, and Sora still swelled with pride to think of it. The entrance he’d taken was just off the side of the contestants warm up arena, and he breathed a sigh of relief that no one had spotted him using a non-regulation entrance.
Quickly he made his way through the arena, bypassing men dressed in ridiculous costumes of leather and fur, others with more blades than Sora was pretty certain they knew what to do with, and then past-
“Holy shit!” Sora stopped dead, neck straining up, eyes wide. He was gaping, and then he was pointing, as he said, “Do you eat your opponents, or something? You’re huge!”
Several of the contestants around them coughed, and sidled discreetly away. The man who Sora’d picked out – who was, in fact, colossal – stopped stretching, and looked down at him. It was a very, very long way down.
“Excuse me,” the giant said, sounding fussy and insulted. “Are you talking to me? Are you- Did you just call me fat?”
“Er.” Sora swallowed, and looked around him; everybody’s back was turned, trying to stay out of it. “Um. No! Of course not! I called you really freaking ta-”
“Did you just call me a freak?” The massive man quivered with indignation, and Sora felt the floor roll slightly beneath him. His quiet, “Oh shit,” was drowned out by the giant wailing, “I was born this way! I can’t help it if I’m fat!”
“No, no,” Sora rushed to reassure him. “Jeez, I didn’t mean anything by it, honest! I don’t think you’re a freak. Um. I’m sure you’re just, uh, big boned?” By then, the arena was very, very quiet, as if everyone was holding his or her breath to see if the little guy got squished. Sora grinned up at the giant, and gave him a thumbs up. “I bet it’s a great advantage in a fight!”
From very high, there came the sound of sniffling. Sora’s eyes went very wide, and his face went very white. He hated making people cry.
But, by then, a hero had come to save him. For such a little guy, Phil could out-shout just about anybody. “Don’t mind him,” he bellowed, stomping through the wall of contestants, to pat the giant on one big, beefy ankle. “He’s got a good heart, and he can fight with the best of them, but I think he lost his brain somewhere along the way.”
“Hey-!”
Phil turned on one cloven foot, and glared Sora into silence. “You, dumb butt, come with me. And apologize!”
“Er,” Sora scrubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry?”
The giant gave a dismissive sniff, and said, “Whatever,” before ignoring Sora quite haughtily. Sora shrugged, and followed Phil, who was now glowering at the wannabe heroes who had failed to come to Sora’s previous rescue, snapping things like, “And you call that gallant?” and “So what if he wasn’t a maiden?” and “YOU BIG SISSIES.”
Sora bit his lip on a snicker, and followed patiently behind, until they were out of the arena, into a corridor that led from the main entrance to the Coliseum. It was a different corridor from the spectator one, looping around to enter from the back. Phil drew him into an alcove, grabbed onto his shirt collar, and yanked him down to his level.
“Look, kid,” he gritted out, “That was a Titan. You don’t comment on a Titan’s size, got that? It’s a touchy subject!”
“Er, right.”
“Jeez,” Phil continued, releasing Sora and almost sending him toppling over. “And I thought we didn’t have to worry about you anymore!”
“Eh,” Sora grinned, shrugging. “You know me, always getting into trouble.”
“It’s a wonder you’re still alive,” Phil sighed. “Just like Hercules, I swear, headstrong and without the common sense to go with it.” Sora laughed, delighted, and laced his fingers behind his neck; he waggled his eyebrows at Phil, and said, “You think I’m like Hercules?”
“Shove it, kid,” Phil griped, though he was grinning, too. “Hero is a revocable title. You sure you’ve still got what it takes?”
“Of course!”
“Well, fine, fine.” Phil nodded. “I can see if I can squeeze you into the Cup, but it’s gonna-”
Which was ridiculously sweet of Phil, and told Sora more clearly than almost anything else how fond of him Phil was. Phil didn’t cut corners, and if you didn’t go through the long, legal way, then you didn’t get in at all – except, in very, very special cases. Sora felt all warm inside, and breathed in a happy sigh, before letting it out a touch dejectedly.
“Sorry, Phil,” he cut in. “But I’m afraid I’m here on business.”
“Wha- Business?” Phil scowled at him. “First time back when we’re running properly and you’re here on business? Bah!” Nettled, Phil turned and started stalking through the cool corridor; the corridors were the only things that weren’t open to the bright sky, and Sora was as happy for the relief from the heat as he was saddened by the lack of bright – he’d be getting plenty of dim and dark soon enough.
“Aw, c’mon, Phil! You know I don’t mean it like that!” Sora dogged his heels. “I’m sorry, man, I’ve just been so busy, and you guys haven’t even been up that long, come oooon. You should feel sorry for me! I’d much rather stay and hang out with you guys, but I’ve got to work.” For such a little guy, not only did Phil have large lungs, but also he had very quick strides. Sora cursed silently when he realized they were almost out of the corridor, and that if he didn’t convince Phil to stop before he went out to be judge and ref, then he was screwed.
“Look, Phil,” he tried. “I don’t want to go face down Hades with you mad at me. Please? At least tell me how Meg and Herc and Pegasus are!”
Phil stopped, abruptly, and turned to glare at him. “They’re fine. Meg’s pregnant with another little spawn,” Sora perked up, delighted, and made a mental note that he definitely needed to stop by and see how she was doing, “and Herc and Pegasus are off saving the day, somewhere, I’m sure. Now what do you mean, face down Hades?”
“Er…well, not so much face down as-”
“Where’re your girl and your boy?” Phil cut in. “Why don’t you have back up?”
“Gah,” Sora said, and laughed a little helplessly. “Relax, Phil! It’s just a standard recon mission, honestly. Jeez, you sound like Cid. He didn’t want me to go, either. It’s not like I’m alone! I’ve got Roxas with me, and he’s enough.”
“He is you,” said Phil flatly. “It doesn’t count.”
Sora rolled his eyes. “And Riku is on a mission for the King, and Kairi’s busy with some Princess work, so there’s, you know, me. And Jack is a friend,” Sora said, earnestly. He couldn’t help the worry that was sliding all through his eyes, because he couldn’t help the worry that clenched his stomach from being overwhelming. “Spirits are disappearing from Halloweentown, and we’ve managed to pin point it to the Underworld. And if I don’t do it,” Sora said gravely, “Then Jack is going to try. And I love Jack, and he might be the scariest Pumpkin King Halloweentown has ever known, but he’d be no match for Hades.”
“Hmph.”
“Please, Phil?” Sora asked, and tried giving him the eyes that always worked on Riku when he wanted his way. “I don’t want you to be mad at me. I promise, when Riku and Kairi get back, we’ll come visit, okay? Make a day of it.”
Phil gave him a hard stare, but then he sighed expressively, and rolled his eyes. “You heroes, too soft for your own good. C’mere, kid.” Sora grinned, and bent down so that Phil could ruffle his hair. “But you’d better make good on that promise, got me? And watch out, you don’t have any spirits of heroes long past to help you, or even a sidekick or two. You keep that mission recon. Hades seems to be in far too good a mood, lately. It makes me nervous.”
Sora nodded, and patted Phil enthusiastically on the back. “Got it, Trainer. Is the door to the Underworld still where we sealed it?”
“Yep,” Phil said, and shook himself out, straightened his shoulders, and tugged on his goatee. “How do I look?”
“Great,” said Sora, smiling.
“Hmph,” Phil murmured. “Was there any doubt. And you, hero-boy.” The look Phil gave him cut deep, and Sora leaned in, wiped most of his laughter from his mouth, and listened. “Keep this in mind: Even if they don’t keep it clean, you’d better keep it clean.” He paused, and then quickly added, “Well, I mean. Not at the cost of your life. Okay, Sora?”
“Gotcha, Phil.” Sora straightened, and waved. “I hope your Tournament is awesome! I’ll see you later!”
*
The seal Kairi’d put on the entrance to the Underworld was a beautiful, warm lock, and Sora enjoyed the feel of it until he had to break it beneath his own will. Even for him, Kairi’d made sure that it wasn’t a pleasant experience. A little taster to what was ahead.
Sora wished he’d listened to that warning better. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he told Roxas, who was a prickly point of agitation in the back of his mind, melding into his own emotions. “Let’s see, we took the Lost Road…and, uh, that’s probably where we messed up. Damn.”
Sora put his hands on his hips, and glared around at the dank caverns. He was still a little shaky after that first fall through the mists of the dead, into the Underground Caverns. There weren’t that many Heartless here, at least, because their diet wouldn’t have been a healthy one. No light, and certainly no hearts. A small blessing amidst a lot of annoyances.
“What if we head back, and take a left…”
“Huh. I guess they don’t build heroes the way they used to. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever get the hint and show up. And then you go and get lost.” Sora stiffened, and then turned on his heel to fix Hades with a nasty look.
“That’s creepy,” he told the god. “Don’t sneak up on people, jeez.”
Hades’ grin just widened, a menacing, vicious, skull-like smile. The flames on his head were a happy blue, and more of an indication to how much trouble Sora was in than anything. “Oh, but don’t you like surprises? Because I have plenty in store for you.”
“Uh…” Sora squinted at Hades, and decided that he was completely freaked out. “I’ll pass, but thanks!” Turning, Sora was ready to run for it – it really was just a recon mission, he could afford to turn tail – but Hades did that creepy, smoky, disappear-reappear in a pop of smoke thing, and he had Sora by the shoulder instantly. His fingers felt like a skeleton’s, and they dug in so hard Sora felt the bruises form deep down.
“Not so fast, my friend,” Hades said sweetly. “You’ve only just arrived. Why don’t you…stay for a spell, hm? It gets so lonely, down here, and, oh yes, I know! You probably want to see your friends, right? From Halloweentown?” His smile was as sharp as a reaper’s scythe, and Sora glared for all he was worth. Roxas’ anger was his anger, now, entirely.
Sora snapped. “What are you doing to them?”
“Oh,” Hades said nonchalantly. With his other hand, he buffed his nails on his dark robes. “Just tormenting them. You know the drill, eternal pain and suffering, yadda yadda.”
“Fuck you.” Sora jerked away from Hades’ grip, even though he almost dislocated his shoulder doing it. He turned and faced down Hades, toe to toe; his face was red, and he wished he could just beat Hades up and be done with it. “Give them back!”
“Mm, no.” Hades laughed at whatever expression Sora was wearing, and even though they were almost the same height by then, Sora felt about three inches high. It made him even angrier. “What? You really think I can just give them back to you? That’s not the way it works, chump.”
“Oh?” Sora said. He remembered Phil’s words, but asked, “And how does it work down here?”
Hades dipped his head down, and smiled, sinister and pleased. “It’s really very simple,” he said, spreading his hands as if to demonstrate. “A trade is the most commonplace, but you hear about the hand of fate and luck more often, and since I like you, kid, well. How about a bet?”
This did not sound good. Roxas, who didn’t need to speak as much as he used to in order to be heard, said, Kill him, but it was almost impossible to kill a god, and Sora figured there’d be something that happened, like the universe being thrown out of whack, and he’d really not like having to deal with that if it did occur.
So he said, “What kind of bet?” and his fate was practically signed, sealed, and stamped on the spot.
*
When Cid didn’t get word back from Sora - not even via text on his PHS - after four days, he knew he’d been right. He growled, put on tea, and then proceeded to chain smoke until Kairi and Riku came home. When there was no Sora, they’d know to go to Headquarters, and then Cid could send them on their way, after that god-damned fool of a boy.
*
“Yep,” Kairi said, eyeing her lover’s handiwork. “He definitely went this way. Thanks, Phil.”
“Hmph,” Phil grunted, looking worried. “You sure you’ll be all right, lass? I haven’t seen your other brat, yet.”
Kairi smiled, and laughed a little, and very carefully did not tell Phil that Riku wasn’t likely to come through this way. There were plenty of options for a keyblade wielder, especially one who didn’t feel like getting bitched out by a satyr that came up to his kneecap.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “He’ll be fine. And so will I! Cloud’s going to keep me company, since he was kind enough to offer.”
Phil bristled, and glared at Cloud, who had been standing unobtrusively in the back. He gave a quiet sigh, now, at being noticed. “I remember you,” Phil said sourly. “You would know your way around, wouldn’t you?”
“Seems that way,” Cloud murmured. Kairi could just barely see his bright gaze over the high red collar of his cloak.
“Hmph!”
“Right.” Kairi coughed, blushing slightly at how awkward all this was. “Thanks again for all your help, Phil. We’ll be fine, okay? See you soon!” Then she grabbed Cloud by his cloak, and started off, dashing quickly into the roiling black subspace that, once past the slime and skin prickling madness of Hades’ particular brand of oily darkness, led down the narrow staircase to the Underworld’s entrance.
An Underworld that needed housecleaning something fierce, ugh. Kairi wrinkled her nose in disgust, trekking quickly down the long flight of stairs, before realizing that not everyone was alive down there, and maybe they wouldn’t like the reminder of what a dump their eternal resting place was. She straightened her corset shirt, and cleared her throat, and did her best to keep her face pleasant, and empty of any misgivings.
She lasted nearly a minute, and then she had to ask. “It is supposed to smell like that?”
“…Like rotting flesh and sewer?” Cloud murmured from behind his high collar. Flicking a wry, commiserating glance at Kairi, he said, “Unfortunately. And try not to touch the walls. They puss, on occasion.”
“Oh. Gross.”
*
Riku stepped onto the little blue-green demon getting out of his boat. He flipped a coin at the driver, who moved with an odd, segmented kind of grace, making a sound like popping bones. Riku thought he saw a hint of dried skull and fossilized teeth chattering beneath its hood in thanks, before it pushed off from the ledge and was gone, trailing mists and spookiness.
“I really hate it here,” Riku sighed, and drove his heel into Hades’ lackey for good measure. “Now where’s the sign up?”
The creature – Pain? Torment? Riku couldn’t remember to save his life, and didn’t really care to try. Snot was as good a name as any – snapped itself back into its proper shape with a miserable groan, and flashed sharp teeth at him. “Stupid brat,” it whined, and Riku automatically punted it against a pillar.
“What was that?” he snapped.
“I mean…” Snotface wheezed, and scuttled. “Oh, most exalted wicked one, how may I help you?”
Riku arched an eyebrow. “That was pathetic. You should put more feeling into it. Your groveling isn’t quite realistic, and your choice of titles is, in a word, fucking lame.”
“…That’s two words.”
“Whatever.” Riku rolled his eyes. He had bigger fish to fry, anyway. “Just point me to the register, man.”
Snotface’s eyes bulged, and it’s strange, vicious hoarse-squeak of a voice tumbled all over itself in its urge to counteract that statement. “The- Register? No. No, no, don’t be stupid, you- Oh, most exalted, you don’t..no, no bad idea, bad bad bad idea, take my word for it!” Its eyes gleamed, and it gave a sneaky smile. “Besides, you’re too young to register.”
“Like hell,” Riku snorted. “I’m drinking age next month.”
With a haughty sniff, Snotface corrected him. “You must be two centuries dead, at least.”
For a long moment, Riku just kind of stared at the little demon, and then his arm exploded into a miniature tornado of dark tentacles that coalesced into armor all the way down from his shoulder, ending at his knuckles so that Riku could feel the minute tremors his keyblade made that he otherwise may have missed behind leather gloves.
“…what was that.”
Snotfaced squeaked, and tried to back peddle very quickly into the dark. Rather conveniently, it stumbled straight into someone’s heavy boots. When it tumbled back closer to the sickly light near Riku, Riku could see indentations from several boot buckles. He had to stifle a snicker, so he could focus on the newcomers instead.
“Who the fuck ar-”
“Well, hello to you, too, Riku.”
Riku shut up, very quickly, and narrowed his eyes. He knew that voice; it was a voice that sent his pulse racing, and his stomach fluttering, and made his entire being sit up and take notice and hope he was right. But he was in hell, and they lied by default, here. He drawled, “Kairi? That better be you.”
Her laughter reached him first, bright and airy even in the nasty gloom of the Underworld. Then she came forward in the dusty light, her smiling face open, free of her hair, her eyes steady and eager. Riku didn’t quite let his armor go, and, as always, reveled when Kairi didn’t so much as bat an eye at it; she just accepted.
A few feet away, Kairi paused, and the two took a lazy moment to size each other up with wry amusement; then they broke into easy grins, and Riku wished Sora were there, because he would have said something like, “Fancy meeting you here, pretty lady,” as if he was an old style cowboy from one of the westerns they used to watch back on the Island.
Instead, Riku just said, “You finished whatever you and Belle were worried about early, then? I thought it was going to take an extra week.”
Kairi shrugged, her movements fluid. That was when Riku took notice of the slightly taller, darker presence of the blonde man who came up beside her. Riku narrowed his eyes to a cat-likeness and stared. “Yeah, I finished it.” Kairi said, not smug, though she was proud. “It was a good warm up.”
That drew Riku back to Kairi, though, and he smirked at her, tilted his chin in invitation. “Care to dance with me, then?” He tried not to be smug about the way she lit up at the suggestion, but it was too much effort. He positively basked in it, instead.
“Of course!”
A polite cough from the man beside Kairi drew Riku’s eyebrows down again, and settled his mouth into a sneer. “What?” The blonde in the red cape pointed, and Riku blinked, before springing forward easily. “I don’t think so. You still need to give us directions.”
“Please,” Kairi interjected firmly, fists on her hips, though she didn’t protest the rough treatment Riku was giving Snotface, at the very least.
Snotface wailed dismally, and Riku took it as a resounding victory.
*
Hades’ chamber was not a very interesting place to be held hostage in. He could just see the sickly green of the Valley of the Dead down the dark staircase that lead to it, and out the windows…Sora really, really didn’t like that view. At all.
Besides that there was the table, with all the objects that shifted and moved whenever Sora glanced at it sideways. It made him sick to look at it for too long, though, and it was more fun to take down the old, heavy silk drapery that Hades had surrounded his throne in to make a pallet on that damned table with instead.
For the most part Sora slept, exercised, or otherwise sang, very loudly, and very off key.
Hades only came in long enough to offer Sora food with a mocking grin, and belittle him in a variety of ways. Sora was keeping count of each of their individual victories: seven times Sora had been left fuming, and with nothing to divert his anger at; five times Sora had sent Hades from his private chambers, furious and with his flame as red as a cherry.
Sora always threw the food out one of the windows, being very careful not to look out clearly and watch the souls being tormented. It was a good thing, he decided, that you were never very hungry in the Underworld. Even less so, when half your soul was missing.
Those days were the most uncomfortable of Sora’s entire life. He didn’t know how he could have stood it when he was young, when he hadn’t even realized he’d lost Roxas. Had he known himself so little? Really? Sora made a face as he realized how unbelievably lucky they had all been.
“I’ll just hold this portion as a safeguard, hm?” Hades had told him. “Not that I’d ever think you would cheat, Sora, but, well. Never hurts to be careful right? Well…never hurts me. This is going to hurt you quite a bit, actually.”
There was a barrier thrown up at the door out of Hades’ chamber, but Sora was pretty certain that he’d be able to make it out, anyway. He still had all of his ability, he just wasn’t at full power, was the way he figured it, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. His soul was still there – Roxas, he whispered, Roxas, Roxas, I’m not whole without you, damn it – just disconnected, trapped, like Hades had once trapped Auron and Meg.
“Fuck, Hades,” Sora had snapped at him, after he’d stopped screaming. Sweat trickled into his eyes, made his hair stick to his face, and he glared, with dulled eyes and a furious, panting scowl, as best he could. “A bet’s a fucking bet. It’s not like I can get out of this by running!”
And he couldn’t. Sora didn’t see a way out of getting his soul back from Hades. But Hades was sadistic, and probably bored, and just a plain old mean bastard, so he’d torn it in two, and told Sora, “Just think of it like a stroll down memory lane!”
It had been easiest for Hades to take the chunk of Sora that had already been taken away once before; that was still knitting itself back into the whole. “Damn it,” Sora muttered; lately, the monotony had changed: his heart had been aching with the sweetest ache he knew, for a while now. He needed to think up a plan; he had to. “Hang tight Riku, Kairi. I’ll get out of here, I promise. Meet you guys half way, or something.”
He sighed, and started working on that plan. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do.
*
There wasn’t a lot to do when you were dead, and Kairi had heard from very reliable sources that Hades’ humor was really only entertaining to him, so she wasn’t very surprised to find the locker rooms packed. There were two doors, one designating female entries, the other, male, and their small group paused in indecision before them.
“…I’ll be fine,” Kairi said.
“Well yes,” Riku gave her a slanted look, and a bare curve of a smile. “Still.”
Behind, and to Kairi’s right, stood Cloud. He shifted, the folds of his long red cloak moving in a near silent hiss-rustle-fall of frayed material. “I’ll go with Kairi.”
Well, Kairi thought, surprised. “Are you sure? I don’t know what we’ll find there. It could be pink and full of perfume.” For such a sweet offer, she couldn’t offer the silent swordsman anything less than the full truth. He gave her a wry look.
“After Aerith, the only feminine thing that scares me is leg wax. Bring on the lace, just not the leg wax.”
For a long moment, Kairi stared, and Cloud, with his quiet, glowing eyes, met her gaze steadily, though Kairi had the sneaking suspicion that, toward the end, he was starting to blush, just a little. It was rather charming, really, and she smiled, and said, “I always thought lace was way too itchy. And it gets caught in everything.”
Riku gave them a slow, cautious look. “…I…think I’m going to go now.”
“All right then!” Kairi stepped close, on tiptoe, and brushed the soft white layers of Riku’s hair from his pale, smooth cheek. The kiss was quick, but firm, and both their eyes shone. “I’ll see you soon.”
*
Soon, Riku realized, meant when Namine had cleaned out the entire slew of female contestants, and made her quiet, pale way over to the men’s locker room, Cloud an equally quiet, forbidding presence just behind her.
“Yo,” Riku said, giving Namine a puzzled look. She looked down demurely, before looking back up with a smile.
“Hello, Riku. How have you been?”
“Well enough.” Riku slanted a glance at Cloud, as if the other man would tell him anything. He didn’t, of course, just raised one eyebrow and shrugged. “Er. And you?”
At that, Namine blushed, and bit her lip. She wore a white version of what Kairi wore, low slung cargo pants and a spaghetti strap shirt. On Kairi it looked natural, comfortable; Kairi wore the bare arms and slice of hip and stomach, not like she was on display, but like she just wanted to feel good. On Namine it made her look a touch too vulnerable, and Riku took off his jacket, and laid it around her shoulders.
“Uh. T-thank you.” She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, and then looked back at Cloud, and giggled. “I’m fine,” she finally responded. “And, um. I’m having fun.” She looked back, blue eyes pure and, for once, impish. It was a Kairi look, and Riku found himself transfixed, for a moment.
“Having fun doing what?” All Riku had been doing was sulking in a corner, silently daring someone to start something just so he could have something to do. “They’re all stiffs. I think they forgot how to have fun.”
“Ah,” Namine said quietly, raising one pale finger teasingly, like she had a secret to tell. “But they haven’t forgotten how to gamble. Just how to gamble well.”
That…would take a moment to process, actually.
“What.”
Lightly, Namine shrugged, and then slid carefully out of Riku’s warm, if slightly beaten up, jacket, smoothing the material down as she gave it back to him. “Thank you again, Riku. But I still have games to play.”
“Games.” Riku’s voice was faint, and it felt sort of like his eyebrows were going to crawl off his face and commit suicide. Cloud shifted, and Riku realized that he’d been keeping Namine mostly out of the rest of the locker room’s line of sight, protecting them in their little corner. Riku swallowed his surprise, and gave the other man a bored look, saying, “Kairi is crap at card games.”
Namine’s eyes lowered again, and that soft, not quite sad, smile reappeared. “Once upon a time, in a great white castle,” she said softly, “when there wasn’t anything else to do, the Gambler of Fate would teach the caged bird a few tricks.” She fiddled with the long fall of her moonlight pale hair, and added, “Luxord was interesting. And his Gamblers were really very sweet. They used to have tickle fights with me.” She paused, and something flashed across her face like she was uncertain whether or not she needed to explain herself further. And then she settled her shoulders back, and met Riku’s stare directly with a smile, and reaffirmed, “I’m having fun.”
“All right,” said Riku easily enough. “Any particular reason why now, though?”
Namine gestured immediately up above him, and Riku turned, looking up to see what she was pointing at. It was a big, black, scrollwork banner, which read:
Kingdom Cup
100 Levels
Final Contestant: A Surprise!
Prize: One (1) Keyblade Master’s Soul
There was a design beneath it that, at first, Riku thought was a skull and crossbones. He looked closer, however, and saw that it was a dented crown, crossed with two battered keyblades.
“Stupid fucker,” Riku muttered, and then shifted onto his hip to give Namine a lazily vicious look. “I hope you take the house, babe.”
Kairi’s grins were blinding, like Sora’s, and the best thing Riku could liken them to was looking directly at the sun, all that bright joy and fierce light just rolling off of them; with Namine, it was a little different, less like the sun, and more like the moon. But it was getting brighter, Riku noted, watching as she stepped into the great crowd of male contestants, heading unerringly towards a makeshift card table, Cloud following her closely.
Good, he thought. That’s how it should be the longer they’re assimilated.
Quickly, Riku lost sight of her behind all of the much taller backs gathering to watch. But that was okay; she’d be fine, just fine. Humming slightly, in a much better mood, Riku reached inside himself with a mental hook, and swirled up some magic. The banner above him crackled in a very tightly controlled roll of black fire, and the ashes fell down around Riku like falling snow.
*
Eventually the tournament actually began, and Namine faded back into Kairi with a last sweet smile at the poor lost soul she’d just beaten for the third time in a row with a Full House spread across the table in front of her. Kairi stood up, and stretched, like she’d just woken from a nap. Her eyes shone, and the smile was transformed into a grin that was equal parts excitement and ferocity.
“What Level number are we starting off at?” she asked, after making her way easily through the crowd. Cloud looked up at the charred spot where the banner had once been, and in his voice was a curl of dark amusement, as he said, “Seven.”
“Perfect,” Kairi said. “We need to warm up, anyway.”
Riku, who had been eyeing the competition since he first walked through the door, snorted. “Better make it quick. I doubt it will take long to get to us.”
*
It didn’t take long at all, in fact, and then the three of them were there, in Hades’ bastardized version of the Coliseum. “Well,” Kairi murmured quietly, standing back to back with Riku, looking up at the dark, jeering, unfortunate spectators. “This is charming.”
Riku laughed, softly. “Yeah. Really puts you in a mood, doesn’t it?” Which could have been taken several ways, Kairi quickly decided. She stepped back, aiming to lean against Riku’s solid bulk for one quick moment. But something squished beneath her shoe; she lifted it, to see what she’d stepped on, and was suddenly glad she hadn’t eaten lunch earlier. “Oh, hell that’s disgusting.”
“What?” Kairi felt Riku look down, and pause. Then he snickered, “It’s all fun and games until-”
“Oh, shut up,” Kairi moaned. She wasn’t sure if she should put her foot down and scrape it off the bottom of her heel, or if she should just hope that it would fall and splatter- okay, you know what? Nevermind. She scraped it off on the broken marble tile of the arena.
And that was when the first wave of their fight began. Cloud noticed their opponents first, the slinking, scale like creatures slithering up towards them with red eyes. He went from quiet and patient, to a throbbing, menacing force, all high tuned power and huge, shining sword, with the ability to use it.
“Wow,” Kairi muttered, and then laughed when Riku said, “Yeah? Well watch this,” and busted out his keyblade with more flourish and fanfare than Kairi was used to seeing from him.
Her own weapon came forth in a burst of sweet light, and the scent of spring. She fitted her fingers around the hilt, the weight comfortable in her grip, and shifted into a ready position; said, “Oh, don’t be so jealous, Riku.”
“What? I’m not- Hey!”
Kairi, already hip deep in monsters, laughed in response, keyblade singing pure and clear with the thrill of battle.
*
“So you’re the soul?”
Sora jerked upright from where he’d been lightly dozing. He almost toppled off the desk, so instead he threw himself over it, rolled into a nice landing on the other side, away from the voice. He didn’t recognize it.
“Uh…who are you?” Sora peeked over the edge of the desk, and frowned, before yawning. “You’re another god, right? Sweet, you’re glowing like Hercules did, when we fought in the match!”
The other figure – a god, presumably – arched one thick black eyebrow, and did not smile. He stood with easy confidence, and wore nothing but leather and shiny plating. Sora tilted his head at the amount of thigh being shown off, and thought, Damn. I wonder what I’d have to sell to see Riku or Kairi in that get up.
“Hercules,” the god said, in a low rumble, “A decent opponent.” Sora shivered to hear the other man speak. No matter how calm and bland his voice may have sounded on the surface, underneath it was all potential violence, the bloody kind.
“Hey,” Sora objected. “Hercules isn’t just a decent opponent, he’s a great opponent. A true hero! And he nearly kicked my butt off-world.”
The god’s black eyes narrowed, and the expression on his broad, rugged face read as mildly perplexed. “But he didn’t.”
“Er. No. I beat him,” Sora grinned. “Fair and square. And with a lot of luck and desperation.”
“Desperation?”
“Yes,” Sora said, serious for a moment. “I needed to beat him. Had to. I had to see if I could be a hero. And I had to be a hero.” As he watched this god who’d appeared without warning in Hades’ private chambers, who smelled of violence, Sora was struck by the expression in his eyes. He looked like a child, uncomprehending.
“I had people I needed to save,” Sora clarified gently. He smiled, and stood up, and asked once more, “Who are you, what’s your name? And why are you here, of all places? Have any good ideas for escape, maybe?”
The stranger watched him for a moment, silent and dark and glowing in the thick, acrid light of the Underworld. Sora waited, hoping that maybe this god understood, that maybe he could find a way out. It didn’t quite work the way he wanted it to.
“I am Ares,” the man said, taller than Sora’s 5’11” by nearly five inches. “The God of War. And I’m here because I’m bored. And you, boy who needed to be a hero, are my entertainment.” He paused a moment, ignoring the way Sora was staring at him, flabbergasted. “Well, a part of it, at least.”
“…WHAAAT?”
*
Riku was only a little wounded; Kairi stood across from him and clutched her side, breath hitching slightly. The grin never left her face, however, and Riku laughed silently in a fierce joy to match hers.
He asked, “Where’s Cloud?”
“Gone to find us some drinks,” she replied. They were off in the corridor, taking breaks between the lot matches. They were having to fight more and more often, now that the weaker fighters were weeded out, and didn’t bother to go much farther than the small lounge room off the main hallway from the locker rooms to the arena.
Breathing deep, Kairi started stretching, trying to keep her muscles from seizing up. “He fights well, doesn’t he?”
“Who?” Riku yanked back his hair in an irritated jerk. “Strife?”
“Yes,” Kairi smiled, trying not to wince at the burn in her legs, especially her calves. Too much relying on High Jump, she sighed. I’ll have to do more Dodge Rolls, or something. “Sora fought him once, didn’t he?”
“Hm. And beat him.”
“He could fly, right? Like an angel.” Riku made a noise that sounded like he was throwing up, and Kairi startled into laughter; when she stopped, and straightened, wiping tears from her eyes, he was very innocently stretching out his arms. Riku didn’t do innocent very well, and Kairi snickered helplessly once more. “Well, he did.”
“So what? He can’t anymore, his pact with Hades ended.” Riku sighed, and stopped even trying to stretch, a dark cloud settling over his brow. Outside, in the arena, there were the sounds of screeches and yells, flesh being battered and other things oozing. He frowned out towards it, pensive, clenching his left hand tight to his side. “He doesn’t fit. He fights fine, but not with us. It’s like…trying to dance, but always stumbling on the third step.”
Kairi let out a low sigh, letting her entire body go slack, lax; roll back into a quietness that she rarely dared to don when on a mission. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know what you mean, but that’s why we’re here, right?”
Watching Riku, Kairi could see right through into him, all the dark fears and worries and all that roiling anger; and at the core of it, a hard, stubborn ball of light, steady and strong and hungry for theirs, unwilling to do anything but his best. Seeing the resolve turn his face sharp and edgy and wickedly capable, Kairi felt like they could do anything.
*
Pain was Sora’s new friend, and he wished that he meant the annoying red demon. He didn’t, though, and when he hit another of those really interesting, but really painful wall statues, he choked on his scream, and his vision went blurry. When he landed on the cold, hard ground of Hades’ chamber, he coughed up blood.
“Ow,” he muttered, and started pushing himself up onto his hands and knees.
“This is still boring,” Ares said casually. Sora jerked his head up, glaring through his bangs. The god was slumped dejectedly on Hades’ throne, not even a nick on him. Damn, Sora thought. This is so much harder than it should be. Sora knew he was better than this; he had to have been, to have made it to twenty years old.
Wincing, he got to his feet, tilting his chin up in defiance. He grinned, knowing it’d be bloody, and said, “You just need a better sense of humor. I know plenty of bad guys who would think beating me up is a blast.”
Ares gave him a bored look. “But I don’t know you, and all I really want is a challenge. You’re nothing.”
“Oh, burn,” Sora coughed. And then pushed off the wall, mostly steady on his feet. He called up his keyblades again, and wondered if he could manage Valor form, but really doubted it. He couldn’t reach the same depth of power that he normally could. He couldn’t find it, though he was scratching around inside for it. It wasn’t enough, but he needed it to be enough. He took a deep breath, and then started talking.
“You’re a boring son of a whore, and a lousy ass god who doesn’t know stars from your balls, let alone what a true hero is, you blood thirsty bitch, and-”
Ares’ eyes glowed when he was angry, and, just as Sora had thought, his pride was just as touchy as any macho man, despite the resume he came with. Sora braced himself, and looked for an opening, hating his plan.
Author:
reversedhymnalRating: R in this part
Warnings: VIOLENCE
Word count: 8,270~ in this part
Summary: Nothing ever goes according to plan.
A/N: The first 20 pages of what's closing in on 40 pages. Can't finish it all in time, so here you go. Excuse me for the raping of any and all greek mythology. Have a good read, ♥
Ares’ entrance was as bold as his very existence. It was a clatter of heavy, golden hooves, and the creak of leather and the clang of armor, as well as the lingering scream of war crows and the scent of bloodshed. Hades knew it instantly, and was automatically looking for a way out.
Ares spotted him immediately, of course. He slid off his warhorse with a landing that shook straight through Hades’ subterranean cave of a kingdom, and said, “Uncle.”
Wincing, Hades collapsed dejectedly back into his throne, watching the other god with half-lidded eyes; the flames of his hair flickered and spat in agitation and nervousness, but stayed as calm a blue as Hades could make them. When he said, “Ares! How good of you to drop by,” it sounded like he was pleased, and he let that façade slide down over him, stretch a macabre grin over his face, and pull his tall body from his throne, up, not reluctant like what he really wanted to do was kill Ares, but, rather, like he was going to hug him in greeting, instead.
The fact that what Hades really wanted to do was to kill Ares – and who wouldn’t? Hades thought behind his lying smile. He’s an unmitigated prick – was only one unfulfilled dream amongst many. The fact that Ares probably would have taken off Hades’ arm was what stopped the god of death from giving him a literally rib-cracking hug.
Black eyes watched Hades from a glowing, tan face, and Hades bristled quietly that he had to look up at the young upstart, rather than down. Ares didn’t smile at him, but then, Ares rarely did.
“Ares, Ares,” he said, all hospitality. “Would you like to sit? A drink? To recount your most recent tales of blood shed and undoubtedly macho valor?” Ares’ horse snorted, and stomped one massive hoof. It cleft the smooth, dark gray of Hades’ stone interior flooring, and Hades eyed it; said through gritted teeth, “We have a new lot of alfalfa out back, for your…fine animal.”
For a moment, Ares looked pleased, and then suspicious. He asked, “Is it another crossbreed with Deadly Nightshade?”
“No, of course not!” Hades smiled, and smiled, and smiled, and zapped a quick note to his lackeys to beware of rampaging monstrosity. “It’s Belladonna.”
“Oh, well in that case.” Ares slapped his warhorse on the flanks, and it reared, gave a scream, and raced off. Very minutely, Hades twitched with the need to take it apart limb by limb. “And now,” Ares said, “to business.”
“Ah.” Hades walked in a cold slither of his robes around his large table, dragging his knotted fingers over the edge lightly. He was looking at his playing board, though to Ares, incompetent that he was, it would merely have been a barren expanse of table. “I see. You’re all grown up now and have no free time to play with your favorite uncle, hm? Oh, fine, fine, if you insist. So go on, lad, tell me: what do you want?”
When Ares cracked a very faint smile, Hades knew he was in trouble. The other god rolled his massive, overly muscled shoulders; his armor clanged, and shone even in the dank light of the Underworld. Hades glared back at the bright. “But Uncle,” Ares said, “I do want to play. You owe me after killing my last horse, you know. Do you realize how hard it is to talk Hephaestus into making me those?”
Hades gave a vicious chuckle, and said, just low enough that he knew he wouldn’t quite be heard, “As hard as it makes you to bone his wife, I would imagine.”
Ares narrowed his eyes in ever-present suspicion and a little uncertain curiosity. “What was that?”
“Oh, nothing!” Hades waved his hand in the air distractedly. He leaned against his table with the other one, watching pieces shift; then he looked up at Ares, and smiled with sharp eyes, and coyly asked, “What makes you think I’ll play with you, nephew?”
Ares shrugged. “I’m bored.”
At that, Hades stiffened in horror, and jerked his gaze back down at the table. Several pieces of his moved, now, because if there was one thing the world – and all the other gods – had to fear, it was a bored Ares. Hades’ hair flickered uncertainly, and he took deep breaths.
“What? Is Aphrodite busy?”
“Unfortunately,” Ares sulked. “We have a date in three weeks, and she said she needed to get ready for it. She takes forever to get ready.”
“Yes, yes,” Hades said dismissively, “Women always do. But what do you want me to do about it? It’s not very entertaining here, let me tell you.” Hades laughed, and his voice was a hiss, “Dim, dark, dank, full of a bunch of deadbeats – get it? Dead..oh, never mind, why am I asking you – and with horrible-”
“Dad’s always going off about you competing with his Coliseum. Hold a cup for me. With good contestants. Or, well,” he shrugged, and his smile was just a touch wider, a thin curve of blood lust. “I can always see how well the Underworld holds up in a war.”
Hades’ hair turned instantaneously red. “No.”
“A cup it is, then.” Ares hadn’t moved from his point of entrance the entire time, but now the war god walked forward in a meandering, confident stride, with a dumb, haughty look on his face. He sat in Hades’ chair, and Hades nearly blew his top. Ares fixed him with a dark look. “Don’t disappoint me Uncle. I want to play, and I only play fun games.”
He whistled for his mangy beast, and then disappeared in a clamoring flash. The minute he was gone, Hades screamed. “PANIC. PAIN. GET IN HERE.”
There were two puffs of smoke, and then his best lackeys were cowering before him.
“Y-yes, H-”
Hades had them both by the throat, and his eyes reflected the furious snap and crackling snarl of his flaming hair. “His horse had BETTER NOT BE DEAD.” Pain and Panic wailed pathetically in his grip from the force of his anger. “This will NOT. HAPPEN. AGAIN.”
Furiously, he threw them down, and strode back to his table in a dramatic swirl of his robe. He stopped in front of his game layout, and took a deep breath, holding it until his flames calmed down to blue. Then he let it go, and smoothed his hands down his robes, shaking himself lightly.
“All right, all right,” he muttered to himself. “You’re cool, man, you’re stone cold dead, you don’t have to let what that little bastard of a play boy said get to you. You just have to do this one little, small thing, and maybe not rip him apart and then mail him back to his father, nooooo. Bad idea.”
“H-hades,” Panic started timidly.
“Shut up,” Hades snapped. “Can’t you see I’m trying to convince myself? Bad idea!”
“B-but sir! Shouldn’t you, um, being trying to figure out how to get contestants strong enough to f-fight Ares in a cu-EEK.”
Hades blew on one smoking finger, not even bothering to look over where he’d just set Pain on fire. “Now, now, boys. Don’t you trust me?” The fire in his eyes cast his face in an unholy light; it caught his smile knife bright and threw him into even darker shadows. “I always have a plan. And this one? Oh, yes,” he chuckled, “It’ll be a real scream.”
*
In one particular circle of hell, the spirits have a motto that they have lived, died, and suffered by: The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Hades blew them kisses for the near-week he waited for his fish to catch his bait.
*
The Coliseum was up and running now, a large, shining thing, with towering spectator seats filled to the brim. Sora used his key to get through one of the side doors Hercules had shown him years ago, when that was the only way you could get in or out, thanks to the damage that had been done to it. Sora hadn’t been able to stop by and see it since they’d finished the repairs, so all he could do for several minutes was stop, and gaze in wonder.
The Coliseum was, if possible, even bigger now, still made up of high marble walls, with lots of bronze vases, and Grecian columns, with beautiful statues of heroes and former contestants. A rendition of Sora sat somewhere near Hercules, and Sora still swelled with pride to think of it. The entrance he’d taken was just off the side of the contestants warm up arena, and he breathed a sigh of relief that no one had spotted him using a non-regulation entrance.
Quickly he made his way through the arena, bypassing men dressed in ridiculous costumes of leather and fur, others with more blades than Sora was pretty certain they knew what to do with, and then past-
“Holy shit!” Sora stopped dead, neck straining up, eyes wide. He was gaping, and then he was pointing, as he said, “Do you eat your opponents, or something? You’re huge!”
Several of the contestants around them coughed, and sidled discreetly away. The man who Sora’d picked out – who was, in fact, colossal – stopped stretching, and looked down at him. It was a very, very long way down.
“Excuse me,” the giant said, sounding fussy and insulted. “Are you talking to me? Are you- Did you just call me fat?”
“Er.” Sora swallowed, and looked around him; everybody’s back was turned, trying to stay out of it. “Um. No! Of course not! I called you really freaking ta-”
“Did you just call me a freak?” The massive man quivered with indignation, and Sora felt the floor roll slightly beneath him. His quiet, “Oh shit,” was drowned out by the giant wailing, “I was born this way! I can’t help it if I’m fat!”
“No, no,” Sora rushed to reassure him. “Jeez, I didn’t mean anything by it, honest! I don’t think you’re a freak. Um. I’m sure you’re just, uh, big boned?” By then, the arena was very, very quiet, as if everyone was holding his or her breath to see if the little guy got squished. Sora grinned up at the giant, and gave him a thumbs up. “I bet it’s a great advantage in a fight!”
From very high, there came the sound of sniffling. Sora’s eyes went very wide, and his face went very white. He hated making people cry.
But, by then, a hero had come to save him. For such a little guy, Phil could out-shout just about anybody. “Don’t mind him,” he bellowed, stomping through the wall of contestants, to pat the giant on one big, beefy ankle. “He’s got a good heart, and he can fight with the best of them, but I think he lost his brain somewhere along the way.”
“Hey-!”
Phil turned on one cloven foot, and glared Sora into silence. “You, dumb butt, come with me. And apologize!”
“Er,” Sora scrubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry?”
The giant gave a dismissive sniff, and said, “Whatever,” before ignoring Sora quite haughtily. Sora shrugged, and followed Phil, who was now glowering at the wannabe heroes who had failed to come to Sora’s previous rescue, snapping things like, “And you call that gallant?” and “So what if he wasn’t a maiden?” and “YOU BIG SISSIES.”
Sora bit his lip on a snicker, and followed patiently behind, until they were out of the arena, into a corridor that led from the main entrance to the Coliseum. It was a different corridor from the spectator one, looping around to enter from the back. Phil drew him into an alcove, grabbed onto his shirt collar, and yanked him down to his level.
“Look, kid,” he gritted out, “That was a Titan. You don’t comment on a Titan’s size, got that? It’s a touchy subject!”
“Er, right.”
“Jeez,” Phil continued, releasing Sora and almost sending him toppling over. “And I thought we didn’t have to worry about you anymore!”
“Eh,” Sora grinned, shrugging. “You know me, always getting into trouble.”
“It’s a wonder you’re still alive,” Phil sighed. “Just like Hercules, I swear, headstrong and without the common sense to go with it.” Sora laughed, delighted, and laced his fingers behind his neck; he waggled his eyebrows at Phil, and said, “You think I’m like Hercules?”
“Shove it, kid,” Phil griped, though he was grinning, too. “Hero is a revocable title. You sure you’ve still got what it takes?”
“Of course!”
“Well, fine, fine.” Phil nodded. “I can see if I can squeeze you into the Cup, but it’s gonna-”
Which was ridiculously sweet of Phil, and told Sora more clearly than almost anything else how fond of him Phil was. Phil didn’t cut corners, and if you didn’t go through the long, legal way, then you didn’t get in at all – except, in very, very special cases. Sora felt all warm inside, and breathed in a happy sigh, before letting it out a touch dejectedly.
“Sorry, Phil,” he cut in. “But I’m afraid I’m here on business.”
“Wha- Business?” Phil scowled at him. “First time back when we’re running properly and you’re here on business? Bah!” Nettled, Phil turned and started stalking through the cool corridor; the corridors were the only things that weren’t open to the bright sky, and Sora was as happy for the relief from the heat as he was saddened by the lack of bright – he’d be getting plenty of dim and dark soon enough.
“Aw, c’mon, Phil! You know I don’t mean it like that!” Sora dogged his heels. “I’m sorry, man, I’ve just been so busy, and you guys haven’t even been up that long, come oooon. You should feel sorry for me! I’d much rather stay and hang out with you guys, but I’ve got to work.” For such a little guy, not only did Phil have large lungs, but also he had very quick strides. Sora cursed silently when he realized they were almost out of the corridor, and that if he didn’t convince Phil to stop before he went out to be judge and ref, then he was screwed.
“Look, Phil,” he tried. “I don’t want to go face down Hades with you mad at me. Please? At least tell me how Meg and Herc and Pegasus are!”
Phil stopped, abruptly, and turned to glare at him. “They’re fine. Meg’s pregnant with another little spawn,” Sora perked up, delighted, and made a mental note that he definitely needed to stop by and see how she was doing, “and Herc and Pegasus are off saving the day, somewhere, I’m sure. Now what do you mean, face down Hades?”
“Er…well, not so much face down as-”
“Where’re your girl and your boy?” Phil cut in. “Why don’t you have back up?”
“Gah,” Sora said, and laughed a little helplessly. “Relax, Phil! It’s just a standard recon mission, honestly. Jeez, you sound like Cid. He didn’t want me to go, either. It’s not like I’m alone! I’ve got Roxas with me, and he’s enough.”
“He is you,” said Phil flatly. “It doesn’t count.”
Sora rolled his eyes. “And Riku is on a mission for the King, and Kairi’s busy with some Princess work, so there’s, you know, me. And Jack is a friend,” Sora said, earnestly. He couldn’t help the worry that was sliding all through his eyes, because he couldn’t help the worry that clenched his stomach from being overwhelming. “Spirits are disappearing from Halloweentown, and we’ve managed to pin point it to the Underworld. And if I don’t do it,” Sora said gravely, “Then Jack is going to try. And I love Jack, and he might be the scariest Pumpkin King Halloweentown has ever known, but he’d be no match for Hades.”
“Hmph.”
“Please, Phil?” Sora asked, and tried giving him the eyes that always worked on Riku when he wanted his way. “I don’t want you to be mad at me. I promise, when Riku and Kairi get back, we’ll come visit, okay? Make a day of it.”
Phil gave him a hard stare, but then he sighed expressively, and rolled his eyes. “You heroes, too soft for your own good. C’mere, kid.” Sora grinned, and bent down so that Phil could ruffle his hair. “But you’d better make good on that promise, got me? And watch out, you don’t have any spirits of heroes long past to help you, or even a sidekick or two. You keep that mission recon. Hades seems to be in far too good a mood, lately. It makes me nervous.”
Sora nodded, and patted Phil enthusiastically on the back. “Got it, Trainer. Is the door to the Underworld still where we sealed it?”
“Yep,” Phil said, and shook himself out, straightened his shoulders, and tugged on his goatee. “How do I look?”
“Great,” said Sora, smiling.
“Hmph,” Phil murmured. “Was there any doubt. And you, hero-boy.” The look Phil gave him cut deep, and Sora leaned in, wiped most of his laughter from his mouth, and listened. “Keep this in mind: Even if they don’t keep it clean, you’d better keep it clean.” He paused, and then quickly added, “Well, I mean. Not at the cost of your life. Okay, Sora?”
“Gotcha, Phil.” Sora straightened, and waved. “I hope your Tournament is awesome! I’ll see you later!”
*
The seal Kairi’d put on the entrance to the Underworld was a beautiful, warm lock, and Sora enjoyed the feel of it until he had to break it beneath his own will. Even for him, Kairi’d made sure that it wasn’t a pleasant experience. A little taster to what was ahead.
Sora wished he’d listened to that warning better. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he told Roxas, who was a prickly point of agitation in the back of his mind, melding into his own emotions. “Let’s see, we took the Lost Road…and, uh, that’s probably where we messed up. Damn.”
Sora put his hands on his hips, and glared around at the dank caverns. He was still a little shaky after that first fall through the mists of the dead, into the Underground Caverns. There weren’t that many Heartless here, at least, because their diet wouldn’t have been a healthy one. No light, and certainly no hearts. A small blessing amidst a lot of annoyances.
“What if we head back, and take a left…”
“Huh. I guess they don’t build heroes the way they used to. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever get the hint and show up. And then you go and get lost.” Sora stiffened, and then turned on his heel to fix Hades with a nasty look.
“That’s creepy,” he told the god. “Don’t sneak up on people, jeez.”
Hades’ grin just widened, a menacing, vicious, skull-like smile. The flames on his head were a happy blue, and more of an indication to how much trouble Sora was in than anything. “Oh, but don’t you like surprises? Because I have plenty in store for you.”
“Uh…” Sora squinted at Hades, and decided that he was completely freaked out. “I’ll pass, but thanks!” Turning, Sora was ready to run for it – it really was just a recon mission, he could afford to turn tail – but Hades did that creepy, smoky, disappear-reappear in a pop of smoke thing, and he had Sora by the shoulder instantly. His fingers felt like a skeleton’s, and they dug in so hard Sora felt the bruises form deep down.
“Not so fast, my friend,” Hades said sweetly. “You’ve only just arrived. Why don’t you…stay for a spell, hm? It gets so lonely, down here, and, oh yes, I know! You probably want to see your friends, right? From Halloweentown?” His smile was as sharp as a reaper’s scythe, and Sora glared for all he was worth. Roxas’ anger was his anger, now, entirely.
Sora snapped. “What are you doing to them?”
“Oh,” Hades said nonchalantly. With his other hand, he buffed his nails on his dark robes. “Just tormenting them. You know the drill, eternal pain and suffering, yadda yadda.”
“Fuck you.” Sora jerked away from Hades’ grip, even though he almost dislocated his shoulder doing it. He turned and faced down Hades, toe to toe; his face was red, and he wished he could just beat Hades up and be done with it. “Give them back!”
“Mm, no.” Hades laughed at whatever expression Sora was wearing, and even though they were almost the same height by then, Sora felt about three inches high. It made him even angrier. “What? You really think I can just give them back to you? That’s not the way it works, chump.”
“Oh?” Sora said. He remembered Phil’s words, but asked, “And how does it work down here?”
Hades dipped his head down, and smiled, sinister and pleased. “It’s really very simple,” he said, spreading his hands as if to demonstrate. “A trade is the most commonplace, but you hear about the hand of fate and luck more often, and since I like you, kid, well. How about a bet?”
This did not sound good. Roxas, who didn’t need to speak as much as he used to in order to be heard, said, Kill him, but it was almost impossible to kill a god, and Sora figured there’d be something that happened, like the universe being thrown out of whack, and he’d really not like having to deal with that if it did occur.
So he said, “What kind of bet?” and his fate was practically signed, sealed, and stamped on the spot.
*
When Cid didn’t get word back from Sora - not even via text on his PHS - after four days, he knew he’d been right. He growled, put on tea, and then proceeded to chain smoke until Kairi and Riku came home. When there was no Sora, they’d know to go to Headquarters, and then Cid could send them on their way, after that god-damned fool of a boy.
*
“Yep,” Kairi said, eyeing her lover’s handiwork. “He definitely went this way. Thanks, Phil.”
“Hmph,” Phil grunted, looking worried. “You sure you’ll be all right, lass? I haven’t seen your other brat, yet.”
Kairi smiled, and laughed a little, and very carefully did not tell Phil that Riku wasn’t likely to come through this way. There were plenty of options for a keyblade wielder, especially one who didn’t feel like getting bitched out by a satyr that came up to his kneecap.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “He’ll be fine. And so will I! Cloud’s going to keep me company, since he was kind enough to offer.”
Phil bristled, and glared at Cloud, who had been standing unobtrusively in the back. He gave a quiet sigh, now, at being noticed. “I remember you,” Phil said sourly. “You would know your way around, wouldn’t you?”
“Seems that way,” Cloud murmured. Kairi could just barely see his bright gaze over the high red collar of his cloak.
“Hmph!”
“Right.” Kairi coughed, blushing slightly at how awkward all this was. “Thanks again for all your help, Phil. We’ll be fine, okay? See you soon!” Then she grabbed Cloud by his cloak, and started off, dashing quickly into the roiling black subspace that, once past the slime and skin prickling madness of Hades’ particular brand of oily darkness, led down the narrow staircase to the Underworld’s entrance.
An Underworld that needed housecleaning something fierce, ugh. Kairi wrinkled her nose in disgust, trekking quickly down the long flight of stairs, before realizing that not everyone was alive down there, and maybe they wouldn’t like the reminder of what a dump their eternal resting place was. She straightened her corset shirt, and cleared her throat, and did her best to keep her face pleasant, and empty of any misgivings.
She lasted nearly a minute, and then she had to ask. “It is supposed to smell like that?”
“…Like rotting flesh and sewer?” Cloud murmured from behind his high collar. Flicking a wry, commiserating glance at Kairi, he said, “Unfortunately. And try not to touch the walls. They puss, on occasion.”
“Oh. Gross.”
*
Riku stepped onto the little blue-green demon getting out of his boat. He flipped a coin at the driver, who moved with an odd, segmented kind of grace, making a sound like popping bones. Riku thought he saw a hint of dried skull and fossilized teeth chattering beneath its hood in thanks, before it pushed off from the ledge and was gone, trailing mists and spookiness.
“I really hate it here,” Riku sighed, and drove his heel into Hades’ lackey for good measure. “Now where’s the sign up?”
The creature – Pain? Torment? Riku couldn’t remember to save his life, and didn’t really care to try. Snot was as good a name as any – snapped itself back into its proper shape with a miserable groan, and flashed sharp teeth at him. “Stupid brat,” it whined, and Riku automatically punted it against a pillar.
“What was that?” he snapped.
“I mean…” Snotface wheezed, and scuttled. “Oh, most exalted wicked one, how may I help you?”
Riku arched an eyebrow. “That was pathetic. You should put more feeling into it. Your groveling isn’t quite realistic, and your choice of titles is, in a word, fucking lame.”
“…That’s two words.”
“Whatever.” Riku rolled his eyes. He had bigger fish to fry, anyway. “Just point me to the register, man.”
Snotface’s eyes bulged, and it’s strange, vicious hoarse-squeak of a voice tumbled all over itself in its urge to counteract that statement. “The- Register? No. No, no, don’t be stupid, you- Oh, most exalted, you don’t..no, no bad idea, bad bad bad idea, take my word for it!” Its eyes gleamed, and it gave a sneaky smile. “Besides, you’re too young to register.”
“Like hell,” Riku snorted. “I’m drinking age next month.”
With a haughty sniff, Snotface corrected him. “You must be two centuries dead, at least.”
For a long moment, Riku just kind of stared at the little demon, and then his arm exploded into a miniature tornado of dark tentacles that coalesced into armor all the way down from his shoulder, ending at his knuckles so that Riku could feel the minute tremors his keyblade made that he otherwise may have missed behind leather gloves.
“…what was that.”
Snotfaced squeaked, and tried to back peddle very quickly into the dark. Rather conveniently, it stumbled straight into someone’s heavy boots. When it tumbled back closer to the sickly light near Riku, Riku could see indentations from several boot buckles. He had to stifle a snicker, so he could focus on the newcomers instead.
“Who the fuck ar-”
“Well, hello to you, too, Riku.”
Riku shut up, very quickly, and narrowed his eyes. He knew that voice; it was a voice that sent his pulse racing, and his stomach fluttering, and made his entire being sit up and take notice and hope he was right. But he was in hell, and they lied by default, here. He drawled, “Kairi? That better be you.”
Her laughter reached him first, bright and airy even in the nasty gloom of the Underworld. Then she came forward in the dusty light, her smiling face open, free of her hair, her eyes steady and eager. Riku didn’t quite let his armor go, and, as always, reveled when Kairi didn’t so much as bat an eye at it; she just accepted.
A few feet away, Kairi paused, and the two took a lazy moment to size each other up with wry amusement; then they broke into easy grins, and Riku wished Sora were there, because he would have said something like, “Fancy meeting you here, pretty lady,” as if he was an old style cowboy from one of the westerns they used to watch back on the Island.
Instead, Riku just said, “You finished whatever you and Belle were worried about early, then? I thought it was going to take an extra week.”
Kairi shrugged, her movements fluid. That was when Riku took notice of the slightly taller, darker presence of the blonde man who came up beside her. Riku narrowed his eyes to a cat-likeness and stared. “Yeah, I finished it.” Kairi said, not smug, though she was proud. “It was a good warm up.”
That drew Riku back to Kairi, though, and he smirked at her, tilted his chin in invitation. “Care to dance with me, then?” He tried not to be smug about the way she lit up at the suggestion, but it was too much effort. He positively basked in it, instead.
“Of course!”
A polite cough from the man beside Kairi drew Riku’s eyebrows down again, and settled his mouth into a sneer. “What?” The blonde in the red cape pointed, and Riku blinked, before springing forward easily. “I don’t think so. You still need to give us directions.”
“Please,” Kairi interjected firmly, fists on her hips, though she didn’t protest the rough treatment Riku was giving Snotface, at the very least.
Snotface wailed dismally, and Riku took it as a resounding victory.
*
Hades’ chamber was not a very interesting place to be held hostage in. He could just see the sickly green of the Valley of the Dead down the dark staircase that lead to it, and out the windows…Sora really, really didn’t like that view. At all.
Besides that there was the table, with all the objects that shifted and moved whenever Sora glanced at it sideways. It made him sick to look at it for too long, though, and it was more fun to take down the old, heavy silk drapery that Hades had surrounded his throne in to make a pallet on that damned table with instead.
For the most part Sora slept, exercised, or otherwise sang, very loudly, and very off key.
Hades only came in long enough to offer Sora food with a mocking grin, and belittle him in a variety of ways. Sora was keeping count of each of their individual victories: seven times Sora had been left fuming, and with nothing to divert his anger at; five times Sora had sent Hades from his private chambers, furious and with his flame as red as a cherry.
Sora always threw the food out one of the windows, being very careful not to look out clearly and watch the souls being tormented. It was a good thing, he decided, that you were never very hungry in the Underworld. Even less so, when half your soul was missing.
Those days were the most uncomfortable of Sora’s entire life. He didn’t know how he could have stood it when he was young, when he hadn’t even realized he’d lost Roxas. Had he known himself so little? Really? Sora made a face as he realized how unbelievably lucky they had all been.
“I’ll just hold this portion as a safeguard, hm?” Hades had told him. “Not that I’d ever think you would cheat, Sora, but, well. Never hurts to be careful right? Well…never hurts me. This is going to hurt you quite a bit, actually.”
There was a barrier thrown up at the door out of Hades’ chamber, but Sora was pretty certain that he’d be able to make it out, anyway. He still had all of his ability, he just wasn’t at full power, was the way he figured it, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. His soul was still there – Roxas, he whispered, Roxas, Roxas, I’m not whole without you, damn it – just disconnected, trapped, like Hades had once trapped Auron and Meg.
“Fuck, Hades,” Sora had snapped at him, after he’d stopped screaming. Sweat trickled into his eyes, made his hair stick to his face, and he glared, with dulled eyes and a furious, panting scowl, as best he could. “A bet’s a fucking bet. It’s not like I can get out of this by running!”
And he couldn’t. Sora didn’t see a way out of getting his soul back from Hades. But Hades was sadistic, and probably bored, and just a plain old mean bastard, so he’d torn it in two, and told Sora, “Just think of it like a stroll down memory lane!”
It had been easiest for Hades to take the chunk of Sora that had already been taken away once before; that was still knitting itself back into the whole. “Damn it,” Sora muttered; lately, the monotony had changed: his heart had been aching with the sweetest ache he knew, for a while now. He needed to think up a plan; he had to. “Hang tight Riku, Kairi. I’ll get out of here, I promise. Meet you guys half way, or something.”
He sighed, and started working on that plan. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do.
*
There wasn’t a lot to do when you were dead, and Kairi had heard from very reliable sources that Hades’ humor was really only entertaining to him, so she wasn’t very surprised to find the locker rooms packed. There were two doors, one designating female entries, the other, male, and their small group paused in indecision before them.
“…I’ll be fine,” Kairi said.
“Well yes,” Riku gave her a slanted look, and a bare curve of a smile. “Still.”
Behind, and to Kairi’s right, stood Cloud. He shifted, the folds of his long red cloak moving in a near silent hiss-rustle-fall of frayed material. “I’ll go with Kairi.”
Well, Kairi thought, surprised. “Are you sure? I don’t know what we’ll find there. It could be pink and full of perfume.” For such a sweet offer, she couldn’t offer the silent swordsman anything less than the full truth. He gave her a wry look.
“After Aerith, the only feminine thing that scares me is leg wax. Bring on the lace, just not the leg wax.”
For a long moment, Kairi stared, and Cloud, with his quiet, glowing eyes, met her gaze steadily, though Kairi had the sneaking suspicion that, toward the end, he was starting to blush, just a little. It was rather charming, really, and she smiled, and said, “I always thought lace was way too itchy. And it gets caught in everything.”
Riku gave them a slow, cautious look. “…I…think I’m going to go now.”
“All right then!” Kairi stepped close, on tiptoe, and brushed the soft white layers of Riku’s hair from his pale, smooth cheek. The kiss was quick, but firm, and both their eyes shone. “I’ll see you soon.”
*
Soon, Riku realized, meant when Namine had cleaned out the entire slew of female contestants, and made her quiet, pale way over to the men’s locker room, Cloud an equally quiet, forbidding presence just behind her.
“Yo,” Riku said, giving Namine a puzzled look. She looked down demurely, before looking back up with a smile.
“Hello, Riku. How have you been?”
“Well enough.” Riku slanted a glance at Cloud, as if the other man would tell him anything. He didn’t, of course, just raised one eyebrow and shrugged. “Er. And you?”
At that, Namine blushed, and bit her lip. She wore a white version of what Kairi wore, low slung cargo pants and a spaghetti strap shirt. On Kairi it looked natural, comfortable; Kairi wore the bare arms and slice of hip and stomach, not like she was on display, but like she just wanted to feel good. On Namine it made her look a touch too vulnerable, and Riku took off his jacket, and laid it around her shoulders.
“Uh. T-thank you.” She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, and then looked back at Cloud, and giggled. “I’m fine,” she finally responded. “And, um. I’m having fun.” She looked back, blue eyes pure and, for once, impish. It was a Kairi look, and Riku found himself transfixed, for a moment.
“Having fun doing what?” All Riku had been doing was sulking in a corner, silently daring someone to start something just so he could have something to do. “They’re all stiffs. I think they forgot how to have fun.”
“Ah,” Namine said quietly, raising one pale finger teasingly, like she had a secret to tell. “But they haven’t forgotten how to gamble. Just how to gamble well.”
That…would take a moment to process, actually.
“What.”
Lightly, Namine shrugged, and then slid carefully out of Riku’s warm, if slightly beaten up, jacket, smoothing the material down as she gave it back to him. “Thank you again, Riku. But I still have games to play.”
“Games.” Riku’s voice was faint, and it felt sort of like his eyebrows were going to crawl off his face and commit suicide. Cloud shifted, and Riku realized that he’d been keeping Namine mostly out of the rest of the locker room’s line of sight, protecting them in their little corner. Riku swallowed his surprise, and gave the other man a bored look, saying, “Kairi is crap at card games.”
Namine’s eyes lowered again, and that soft, not quite sad, smile reappeared. “Once upon a time, in a great white castle,” she said softly, “when there wasn’t anything else to do, the Gambler of Fate would teach the caged bird a few tricks.” She fiddled with the long fall of her moonlight pale hair, and added, “Luxord was interesting. And his Gamblers were really very sweet. They used to have tickle fights with me.” She paused, and something flashed across her face like she was uncertain whether or not she needed to explain herself further. And then she settled her shoulders back, and met Riku’s stare directly with a smile, and reaffirmed, “I’m having fun.”
“All right,” said Riku easily enough. “Any particular reason why now, though?”
Namine gestured immediately up above him, and Riku turned, looking up to see what she was pointing at. It was a big, black, scrollwork banner, which read:
Kingdom Cup
100 Levels
Final Contestant: A Surprise!
Prize: One (1) Keyblade Master’s Soul
There was a design beneath it that, at first, Riku thought was a skull and crossbones. He looked closer, however, and saw that it was a dented crown, crossed with two battered keyblades.
“Stupid fucker,” Riku muttered, and then shifted onto his hip to give Namine a lazily vicious look. “I hope you take the house, babe.”
Kairi’s grins were blinding, like Sora’s, and the best thing Riku could liken them to was looking directly at the sun, all that bright joy and fierce light just rolling off of them; with Namine, it was a little different, less like the sun, and more like the moon. But it was getting brighter, Riku noted, watching as she stepped into the great crowd of male contestants, heading unerringly towards a makeshift card table, Cloud following her closely.
Good, he thought. That’s how it should be the longer they’re assimilated.
Quickly, Riku lost sight of her behind all of the much taller backs gathering to watch. But that was okay; she’d be fine, just fine. Humming slightly, in a much better mood, Riku reached inside himself with a mental hook, and swirled up some magic. The banner above him crackled in a very tightly controlled roll of black fire, and the ashes fell down around Riku like falling snow.
*
Eventually the tournament actually began, and Namine faded back into Kairi with a last sweet smile at the poor lost soul she’d just beaten for the third time in a row with a Full House spread across the table in front of her. Kairi stood up, and stretched, like she’d just woken from a nap. Her eyes shone, and the smile was transformed into a grin that was equal parts excitement and ferocity.
“What Level number are we starting off at?” she asked, after making her way easily through the crowd. Cloud looked up at the charred spot where the banner had once been, and in his voice was a curl of dark amusement, as he said, “Seven.”
“Perfect,” Kairi said. “We need to warm up, anyway.”
Riku, who had been eyeing the competition since he first walked through the door, snorted. “Better make it quick. I doubt it will take long to get to us.”
*
It didn’t take long at all, in fact, and then the three of them were there, in Hades’ bastardized version of the Coliseum. “Well,” Kairi murmured quietly, standing back to back with Riku, looking up at the dark, jeering, unfortunate spectators. “This is charming.”
Riku laughed, softly. “Yeah. Really puts you in a mood, doesn’t it?” Which could have been taken several ways, Kairi quickly decided. She stepped back, aiming to lean against Riku’s solid bulk for one quick moment. But something squished beneath her shoe; she lifted it, to see what she’d stepped on, and was suddenly glad she hadn’t eaten lunch earlier. “Oh, hell that’s disgusting.”
“What?” Kairi felt Riku look down, and pause. Then he snickered, “It’s all fun and games until-”
“Oh, shut up,” Kairi moaned. She wasn’t sure if she should put her foot down and scrape it off the bottom of her heel, or if she should just hope that it would fall and splatter- okay, you know what? Nevermind. She scraped it off on the broken marble tile of the arena.
And that was when the first wave of their fight began. Cloud noticed their opponents first, the slinking, scale like creatures slithering up towards them with red eyes. He went from quiet and patient, to a throbbing, menacing force, all high tuned power and huge, shining sword, with the ability to use it.
“Wow,” Kairi muttered, and then laughed when Riku said, “Yeah? Well watch this,” and busted out his keyblade with more flourish and fanfare than Kairi was used to seeing from him.
Her own weapon came forth in a burst of sweet light, and the scent of spring. She fitted her fingers around the hilt, the weight comfortable in her grip, and shifted into a ready position; said, “Oh, don’t be so jealous, Riku.”
“What? I’m not- Hey!”
Kairi, already hip deep in monsters, laughed in response, keyblade singing pure and clear with the thrill of battle.
*
“So you’re the soul?”
Sora jerked upright from where he’d been lightly dozing. He almost toppled off the desk, so instead he threw himself over it, rolled into a nice landing on the other side, away from the voice. He didn’t recognize it.
“Uh…who are you?” Sora peeked over the edge of the desk, and frowned, before yawning. “You’re another god, right? Sweet, you’re glowing like Hercules did, when we fought in the match!”
The other figure – a god, presumably – arched one thick black eyebrow, and did not smile. He stood with easy confidence, and wore nothing but leather and shiny plating. Sora tilted his head at the amount of thigh being shown off, and thought, Damn. I wonder what I’d have to sell to see Riku or Kairi in that get up.
“Hercules,” the god said, in a low rumble, “A decent opponent.” Sora shivered to hear the other man speak. No matter how calm and bland his voice may have sounded on the surface, underneath it was all potential violence, the bloody kind.
“Hey,” Sora objected. “Hercules isn’t just a decent opponent, he’s a great opponent. A true hero! And he nearly kicked my butt off-world.”
The god’s black eyes narrowed, and the expression on his broad, rugged face read as mildly perplexed. “But he didn’t.”
“Er. No. I beat him,” Sora grinned. “Fair and square. And with a lot of luck and desperation.”
“Desperation?”
“Yes,” Sora said, serious for a moment. “I needed to beat him. Had to. I had to see if I could be a hero. And I had to be a hero.” As he watched this god who’d appeared without warning in Hades’ private chambers, who smelled of violence, Sora was struck by the expression in his eyes. He looked like a child, uncomprehending.
“I had people I needed to save,” Sora clarified gently. He smiled, and stood up, and asked once more, “Who are you, what’s your name? And why are you here, of all places? Have any good ideas for escape, maybe?”
The stranger watched him for a moment, silent and dark and glowing in the thick, acrid light of the Underworld. Sora waited, hoping that maybe this god understood, that maybe he could find a way out. It didn’t quite work the way he wanted it to.
“I am Ares,” the man said, taller than Sora’s 5’11” by nearly five inches. “The God of War. And I’m here because I’m bored. And you, boy who needed to be a hero, are my entertainment.” He paused a moment, ignoring the way Sora was staring at him, flabbergasted. “Well, a part of it, at least.”
“…WHAAAT?”
*
Riku was only a little wounded; Kairi stood across from him and clutched her side, breath hitching slightly. The grin never left her face, however, and Riku laughed silently in a fierce joy to match hers.
He asked, “Where’s Cloud?”
“Gone to find us some drinks,” she replied. They were off in the corridor, taking breaks between the lot matches. They were having to fight more and more often, now that the weaker fighters were weeded out, and didn’t bother to go much farther than the small lounge room off the main hallway from the locker rooms to the arena.
Breathing deep, Kairi started stretching, trying to keep her muscles from seizing up. “He fights well, doesn’t he?”
“Who?” Riku yanked back his hair in an irritated jerk. “Strife?”
“Yes,” Kairi smiled, trying not to wince at the burn in her legs, especially her calves. Too much relying on High Jump, she sighed. I’ll have to do more Dodge Rolls, or something. “Sora fought him once, didn’t he?”
“Hm. And beat him.”
“He could fly, right? Like an angel.” Riku made a noise that sounded like he was throwing up, and Kairi startled into laughter; when she stopped, and straightened, wiping tears from her eyes, he was very innocently stretching out his arms. Riku didn’t do innocent very well, and Kairi snickered helplessly once more. “Well, he did.”
“So what? He can’t anymore, his pact with Hades ended.” Riku sighed, and stopped even trying to stretch, a dark cloud settling over his brow. Outside, in the arena, there were the sounds of screeches and yells, flesh being battered and other things oozing. He frowned out towards it, pensive, clenching his left hand tight to his side. “He doesn’t fit. He fights fine, but not with us. It’s like…trying to dance, but always stumbling on the third step.”
Kairi let out a low sigh, letting her entire body go slack, lax; roll back into a quietness that she rarely dared to don when on a mission. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know what you mean, but that’s why we’re here, right?”
Watching Riku, Kairi could see right through into him, all the dark fears and worries and all that roiling anger; and at the core of it, a hard, stubborn ball of light, steady and strong and hungry for theirs, unwilling to do anything but his best. Seeing the resolve turn his face sharp and edgy and wickedly capable, Kairi felt like they could do anything.
*
Pain was Sora’s new friend, and he wished that he meant the annoying red demon. He didn’t, though, and when he hit another of those really interesting, but really painful wall statues, he choked on his scream, and his vision went blurry. When he landed on the cold, hard ground of Hades’ chamber, he coughed up blood.
“Ow,” he muttered, and started pushing himself up onto his hands and knees.
“This is still boring,” Ares said casually. Sora jerked his head up, glaring through his bangs. The god was slumped dejectedly on Hades’ throne, not even a nick on him. Damn, Sora thought. This is so much harder than it should be. Sora knew he was better than this; he had to have been, to have made it to twenty years old.
Wincing, he got to his feet, tilting his chin up in defiance. He grinned, knowing it’d be bloody, and said, “You just need a better sense of humor. I know plenty of bad guys who would think beating me up is a blast.”
Ares gave him a bored look. “But I don’t know you, and all I really want is a challenge. You’re nothing.”
“Oh, burn,” Sora coughed. And then pushed off the wall, mostly steady on his feet. He called up his keyblades again, and wondered if he could manage Valor form, but really doubted it. He couldn’t reach the same depth of power that he normally could. He couldn’t find it, though he was scratching around inside for it. It wasn’t enough, but he needed it to be enough. He took a deep breath, and then started talking.
“You’re a boring son of a whore, and a lousy ass god who doesn’t know stars from your balls, let alone what a true hero is, you blood thirsty bitch, and-”
Ares’ eyes glowed when he was angry, and, just as Sora had thought, his pride was just as touchy as any macho man, despite the resume he came with. Sora braced himself, and looked for an opening, hating his plan.
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Date: 2007-07-04 03:06 am (UTC)~“Once upon a time, in a great white castle,” she said softly, “when there wasn’t anything else to do, the Gambler of Fate would teach the caged bird a few tricks.”~ this line strikes me for some reason. So Namine. Sad, wistful, and glad to have something to tell Riku. I'm definetely interested in seeing where you take this piece, so please finish it.
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Date: 2007-07-04 08:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 03:31 am (UTC)I haven't even read it yet and I think I've had a small heart attack.
... Out of joy! I mean- oh god... OVER 8000 WORDS.
*zips back to the top to read*
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Date: 2007-07-04 08:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 05:25 am (UTC)I'm not reading YET 'cause I want to read it complete, but you, darling, deserve my respect. You had like six SPK more than I did and you wrote over 8000 words of this PLUS the amazingness that it's going to be the rest.
YOU ROCK! *is amazed*
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Date: 2007-07-04 08:06 am (UTC)DEATH BY PLOTBUNNYSPLOSION!! D:
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Date: 2007-07-04 08:15 am (UTC)... shit, that sounds painful. And I'm probably going to die of that one of these days DDD= *clings and pets and pulls over to an island were bunnies can't get*
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Date: 2007-07-04 09:43 am (UTC)but yay good for my ego, omg, i feel so special 'cause YOU ROCKIN' and you like meeeee i feel honored, ♥B-but. You know that we would miss our rabid plot bunnies. ;_; I AM TOO MASOCHISTIC I'M SORRY.
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Date: 2007-07-04 07:46 am (UTC)♥ ohhh man this is so wonderful. I'd say more but it's 15 till four and my brain is pretty much fried. <3 Lovely job, can't wait to see what happens next~!
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Date: 2007-07-04 08:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 08:11 am (UTC)stalksyourlj]no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 09:39 am (UTC)Ooh~ And just about to post the second - and last! - part of this, fyi!