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Title: What the Little Glass Box Holds

Authoress: moerikyo; SuspendedSilverWing

Pairing(s): RikuxSora [main], various others.

Chapter and Challenge: One; It Holds Nothing (one: black)

Summary: Sora has centered his life on trying to live peacefully, without any conflicts. Can a riddle, an amnesiac demon angel, and a little bit of pixie dust change the routine he made for his entire life?

Rating: Teen

Beta: No

Warnings: Language, something akin to violence, and maybe suggestive things later. Maybe.  AU.

 

Author's Notes: It's simple, really. How it's played out depends on the number of answers the question provokes. Or, the riddle as it says.

"What does the little glass box that can't be opened hold?"

--

What the Little Glass Box Holds

Answer One: It Holds Nothing

--

On the third day of rain in Metafalss he had replaced so many umbrellas because they kept mysteriously vanishing from his locked locker that Sora had to put several different locks and bolts on it just to keep the people with sticky fingers out. Adding to that, thanks to the rain he had a temperature running dangerously near one hundred two point eight Fahrenheit. At least, that was what he planned on blaming it on. There was no such use otherwise. The world had been depressed since Salamander day. Sea and sky were a single ash-gray for the clouds and the impending thunderstorms, and even the land seemed to weep as the rain fell to the earth. The sands of the beaches, which on Faura nights glimmered like powdered light and was the most beautiful thing Sora had ever seen, had become a phonetically stew of mud and grain.

The light was weak behind the gray clouds that poured in the rain, and Sora was forced once more to run through the drops without an umbrella. He silently swore to kill the first person he found stealing the next umbrella, and would not refrain from doing so if provoked. In the past he would have sat there timidly and watched them take his belongings, but his last remaining family member's death, mother Aerith, kicked him into overdrive and made him speed head first into the dirt. There was nothing more than the estate left to his name, her belongings, and everything else that belonged to her or the family. He had it all in the woman's will.

Aerith was a kind, strong woman, and it made Sora grieve in anguish at the loss of the brown-haired beauty who had given him life to such a trivial thing as a severe fever (what he currently had from over working himself). Before she died, she told him how his father Cloud Strife was a brilliant, strapping man, and could possibly still be alive somewhere out there, but Sora had learned not to get his hopes up too high. He had hair the color of gold, and eyes the color of the sky in the primavera. Apparently, Sora had Cloud's eyes and his hair style, the same messy spikes and big blue eyes.

And then she sang him a song of healing, but that song only healed physical wounds. It never healed his mentality, and he was already sure he would never get over the scars he had in his heart. There was no one there; no one was going to come back and welcome him home after school. No one would be there to make him dinner, or wake him, or even pick him up from school when he was ill. There was nothing and no one there but Sora and his memories; his precious, precious memories. Her song was one of those memories, and the numerous other songs she sung to him in that mystical language.

There was no one better than him to control what other things happened in his life. Originally, he had wanted to be a singer of some sorts and become big and famous so that he could move his mother away from Metafalss and to somewhere other than where the people forgot the lost song of the past, the true song. He wanted her to bloom and prosper more than anyone else in the entire world; hell, he was even willing to search for his father if it made her happy.

But, now he found himself in a world of despair and unspeakable pain that he felt no one other than him understood. Sora was determined to live his life without anymore problems; but those people who kept stealing his umbrella were going to get it. They were the only exceptions.

"Aw, you really are such an unfortunate child, are you not? It’s too bad; I thought that you would at least know what is in the little glass box that sits at the height of the world." A heavily accented voice asked from the shadows that Sora suddenly found his gaze snapping to at the mere power he sensed from there. A dark cloaked head jerked upwards slightly, and the brunet could almost see thin pink lips slipping into a sly smile. "So, you can understand me, little one? How wonderful!"

A brown brow rose in pure confusion, but he dared not to take a step forward. He knew what the people in the black cloaks could do; his mother always told him that they wore those cloaks to protect themselves from being fully and completely engulfed by the darkness as they went back and forth between the worlds and towers of the ever expanding universe. He had learned his lesson the last time he helped on of them, and knew exactly what they were going to do to him if he took that additional step or got too close.

He heard the person make a "tsk" noise before he found an invisible force pulling his body forward to the table the oddly small person was luring him to. Immediately he seen a card on the table, represented with a lavender, striped carnation, a poppy, a black and slightly blue rose, and a rhododendron. "Oh, such beautiful flowers; and yet, your soul is crying for deliverance! Must you go on with such negative feelings? Do you need help moving forward?" The cloaked person asked as they covered their mouth with a gloved hand, the power suddenly leaving them. "This is merely your present; however, I can show you both your future and your past if you please. Would you like to know what awaits you?"

Sora wanted to smack the person in front of him, but chose not to for the sake of one less thing to have to deal with. He slowly sat down on the chair that was conveniently placed on the opposite side of the table and stared. "First, tell me you name...and then maybe I'll listen to what you have to say," he offered with half interest.

There was a very feminine giggle then and there, and the hood of the person before him was pushed off to reveal a heart shaped face framed by blond hair and a pale complexion. Bright, light blue eyes stared back at him, and thin lips were pulled into a genuinely kind smile. It warmed Sora's wounded soul immediately and he sunk in the chair, completely relaxed. "My name is Namine. I take it you had a run in with my boyfriend, Roxas?" She asked, gently reaching over to her deck and pulling out three more cards. "...and such a meeting was not a pleasant one, I am guessing?"

The brunet rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yeah, but I'd rather not talk about it. Can we get on with this? I need to get home...my mom is waiting for me there," he lied, immediately feeling the guilt welling up in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to hurl for telling such a ridiculous thing to the girl before him when she was being so kind to him, but he had to. For the sake of his sanity, he had to lie and get the hell out of there.

They were under a long blue canopy where the rain could not reach them, but the sudden glow that Namine's eyes took reminded Sora of the rain they were currently having. Seemingly endless and falling without ceasing. "Now, now...there's no reason to lie to me. I know that you have time to kill, so please; allow me to take your mind off of that death," she said, her voice dripping with such a tasteful sadness that Sora earnestly believed she wanted to heal him.

He nodded timidly and awaited the woman's fortunes.

"Now, do you speak the language of flowers?" She asked as she set the cards down. Sora shook his head at that. "Oh? Then I shall explain. Your present is consisting of five flowers, your past of three, and you future the same as the present. Currently, in the present, you have a lavender. That represents 'distrust'; this applies to your common belief that everyone is out to hurt you. And then you have a striped carnation, which means 'no', 'refusal', 'sorry I can't be with you', and 'wish I could be with you'." Namine glanced up at the boy with sorrowful eyes. "You want to be with you mother and family, but don't really wish to give up on trying to find your father."

Sora shifted uncomfortably in his seat and nodded. "I-I guess you could say that...I don't really understand that much," he confessed softly, his throat parched and dry.

The blonde merely smiled. "That's fine. Now, onto the poppy," she nodded to herself. "I see. This means 'eternal sleep', 'oblivion', and 'imagination'. However, there is a hint of white there that I see, so it also 'consolation'. You wish to find someone who understands you and will stay near you no matter how much you cry, hit them, or complain about everything. You want someone to love you for who you are, and are willing to commit an unthinkable sin, plunging yourself into a deep darkness in order to do it. Am I right?"

The boy shrugged. In truth, it was right. Everything she was saying so far was right.

"Your last present flowers are the black rose and the rhododendron. The rose means ‘death’ or a ‘farewell’. You’re trying to say good bye to your mother, but are finding it harder than you originally thought, and now the past memories are trying to eat what is left of your sanity.” She muttered as she casted a long stare up at Sora, smiling when he shifted uncomfortably once more.

“I’d say that’s it.”

“The rhododendron—it represents ‘beware’ and ‘caution’…you’re keeping people out of your life, and distancing yourself from society in order to protect yourself.”

Sora shrugged again. “It’s what needs to be done.”

"Do you wish to hear about your past, as well as your future?" Namine asked softly.

And he nodded. It would not hurt to hear a little bit more from her, would it?

Namine showed Sora the three cards she drew and pointed. "These are the flowers that represent your past. There are: a bittersweet, a white camellia, and a daisy," she stopped to croon the brunet in the seat across from her. "Aw, you were so cute."

Sora flushed a light red in comprehension and shook his head, looking away to avoid the embarrassment. "Sh-shut up! I was not cute!"

The blonde giggled. "I beg to differ," she then began the reading once more. "The bittersweet represents 'truth', your desire to always tell that truth no matter how bad it was. No matter the punishment you received for knocking over that expensive vase in the right wing of the mansion, you understood that it would have been ten times worse had you have lied and blamed it on the maid. You were such a good, truthful child."

The brunet recalled the memory fondly, allowing a light, brief smile to cross his lips. It was a precious memory he dug deep into his heart. He remembered his mother very calmly asking him what happened after he had knocked over that light blue vase with the calming waves and the red rhodora on it. He had looked over at the fearful maid and shrugged, finally grinning up at the brown-haired woman with such brightness that even she let a squealing noise come out. Sora very maturely said that it was his fault, and that he was very sorry for not watching where he was going.

The witch before the other lightened the mood successfully. "I see...that was such a peaceful and kind time for you, wasn't it?"

"Yeah..."

"Do you miss it?" Namine asked kindly.

"Yeah...not a day goes by that I don't think about it a little bit. Each day that passes I miss her a little bit more than the one before and less than the one after."

"Mm," the blonde hummed. "There's also a white camellia...it means that you were adorable in the past as I thought. I bet you were the most bouncy, bright child in the neighborhood."

Sora laughed.

"And, finally, the daisy...'innocence', 'loyal love', 'I'll never tell', and 'purity'. You truly, with all of you heart, miss your mother, don't you?"

"I do..." Sora admitted out loud, enough for his mind to deny it once more. He was unwilling to accept the cruel reality that she was gone, and was not going to be willing to accept it for a very long time down the road. He was sure that even when he too was in his grave in a thousand years or so that he would be unable to take it in and let it sink in in enough time. He refused to believe it anymore than he believed that his father was still alive out there in that big world he had yet to explore.

Namine sighed deeply, her sigh being carried on the wind as if it were a soft whisper. “Now, as for your future…” She pulled out three last cards, laying them on the table for Sora to see. Her blue eyes brightened considerably and she smiled up at the brunet. “The sweet pea, a leaf rose, a red rose, a Christmas rose, and a lily of the valley; you have obtained such wonderful flowers for your future.”

The brunet smiled; for some reason, knowing that the woman in front of him was happy made him slightly happy as well. It was a spectacular feeling, filling him with something akin to warmth.

“Now, as for the meanings…” She began but was cut off by a sudden bolt of lightening. Her small form shot out of the seat and she looked as though she were going to panic and zip out of there immediately. “She’s here!”

Vaguely, Sora wondered who ‘she’ was, but brushed it off in favor of getting out of his seat as well. “Do I run?” Oh, why was he asking? Of course he should run! He should run far, far away and go home.

The blonde nodded. “Yes, go home and lock all of your doors. Do not allow anyone inside of your house until tomorrow morning; not even me if I show up. You never know what will happen!” Namine shouted in a hushed sort of tone.

Sora grabbed his bag and took off down the street in a sprint. Do not allow anyone inside of your house! What did she mean by that? It was not like anyone would want to go inside of his house, that depressing mansion; not unless they are there to collect payments. It seemed as if he would have to hole himself in there for the rest of the day. He thanked whatever God there was that he had food in the fridge and pantry.

He ran down every street he needed to, his blue sneakers hitting the pavement cruelly as he wandered all the way home. Nothing was making sense, and nothing was adding up in his head. What was going on, he had no idea, but he was sure to understand when it came down to the winding point.

Those last flowers—he wondered what they meant.

However, he never had time to ponder that thought as he walked up to his mansion and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of something in the middle of the courtyard, groaning—or someone to be more precise. The brunet had to go very close to see that it indeed a person, a young man, lying face down in the mud, who, in spite and wicked awe of his tremendous efforts, was unable to get up in seemed. Sora thought that his large wings were the things impending him—both covered in mud and rain—but made no move to step forward.

Was it smart to move forward and help that person? They could be nothing short of an angel, and Sora could get in trouble for touching him. He shook his head and decided that it would not matter if the angel died. Oh, but his heart hurt; he wanted to help that angel. He would have to clean him and check for wounds, but…

Go home and lock all of your doors. Do not allow anyone inside of your house until tomorrow morning; not even me if I show up. You never know what will happen!

“Yeah, but…I’m sorry! I can’t just leave him here to die!” Sora shouted as he lunged forward and ran across the courtyard, swiftly opening the large, silver door to his house. He then ran back over to the muddy winged angel and slowly, careful with the other’s wounds, lifted him up and carried him over to the mansion. He was going to get in so much trouble with the maids later, but he had no other choice.

It was against the law to let an angel die there in the presence or knowledge of a human. That was what his mother told him. The human was to do whatever was in their power to help that angel recover, whether it be bathing them, feeding them, or dressing them.

The angel that treaded in his courtyard was lucky his mother told him a divine law.

--

 


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