Kingdom Hearts: Ceremony of Opposites

Kingdom Hearts: Ceremony of Opposites Chapter 3

Chapter the Third: To_Day Won't Go Down In History

And I wanted you to know, to-day won't go down in stone. Feel alive. And I wanted you to know, I never meant for this. Close your eyes.

Kirie sees Shuichi to his house. Smiling sheepishly, she tells the two Nobodies that it would be best if she goes alone. Neither of them argue with her. In fact, as soon as the girl leaves (with the promise to return soon) Zexion turns to Demyx and tells him that he'd rather spend as little time as possible with Kirie's boyfriend.

"I don't trust him," Zexion whispers.

Demyx grins. "Well, that's one thing you got in common, 'cause he doesn't trust you, either!"

"If he blows our cover..."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it."


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Kirie and Shuichi stroll down the deserted pavement. It's cracked, discoloured, and uneven. Kirie tries her best not to stumble and look like a fool in front of her boyfriend. Emerald blades of wiry crabgrass like tiny swords have begun to sprout where once was a flat plain of unbroken off-white.

They pass an old concrete building that has long since been abandoned. The cinder-blocks have begun to crumble, pitted as they are with age and weather. They look as though they would disintegrate with the lightest touch. Kirie is careful not to brush them with her shoulder as she passes. It has been like this ever since Kirie can remember. There are many empty buildings like this in town. The world has moved on, so it seems, leaving Kurozu-cho behind in its wake. It doesn't bother her; rather, she finds it rather romantic. She dares not share this with Shuichi, however, lest he find her a silly sentimental creature.

After the building, there is a row of old flat houses. They look virtually identical, as though someone had built them then copy-pasted the design. The flat roofs, the faded stucco the colour of Devonshire cream, the terraces...all the same. It doesn't bother her; it's been this way all her life.

She's always lived here, has always walked these winding, rambling streets. She'd know the place blind, knows exactly when the "Walk" sign will come on when crossing the street. She could almost give an exact count of the telephone poles in any given neighbourhood.

She can smell the sukiyaki from a neighbouring grill, and her mouth begins to water at the lusciously rich, meaty smell. It makes her realise that she hadn't had much to eat for lunch, having shared most of it with a friend.

Her stomach growls loudly, and she grimaces at the sound. Shuichi frowns down at her and she blushes.

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The pair are standing outside Shuichi's front door. It's a short, squat little thing with terracotta tiles for the roof nestled snugly between two similar houses. Kirie thinks it's cute. Shuichi does not.

A slight breeze kicks up a tiny whirlwind that swirls Kirie's skirt, wrapping it around her slim, shapely legs. She reaches down to free the material from her legs. She giggles sheepishly, but her boyfriend glowers darkly. Her smile fades at this.

"I don't get you, Kirie."

Her grey eyes widen. "Oh? What's not to get?"

"You can't just invite strange men to live with you like that."

She giggles. "They're not strange, Shuichi. They're the foreign exchange students. My teachers have been talking about them for months now." She smiles playfully, her eyes twinkling like stars. "You know, you'd have heard of them too if you went to my school."

Shuichi adjusts his glasses on his face and turns away. "You know why I can't do that." He turns and reaches for her hands, taking her by surprise. "Let's run away together and leave this place."

It's the same conversation they always have. Shuichi demanding that they leave town, for what reason, he never says, aside from him hating the place. It drives him mad, he says. Kirie has to explain that there is no future for two kids without an education, without money, without prospects. It seems...unnatural, for lack of a better word, that she's the one making these arguments, and he's the one who wants to go off half-cocked. It's an insidious kind of wrong feeling that pervades their relationship, no matter how much Kirie wants to ignore it.

She won't leave. Her friends are here; her family is here. The town is as much a part of her as she is of it. The darkened sea is her lifeblood. The briny air is her every breath. Shuichi can't even tell her where they would go were they to leave. Besides, it's quite unfair that Shuichi would abandon his family like that without a second thought. She would not dare to tell him this, however. Instead, she says, "I have to get going now, I promised Demyx and Zexion that I'd bring them to my house after I walked you home." She smiles, more a grimace than an expression of happiness, really. "I'm really sorry about this." She doesn't even know why she's apologising. She takes off, giving a quick wave back as she runs.


***************************
She catches up with Zexion and Demyx rather quickly. Not surprising, since they haven't gone anywhere. "Oh, dear, I hope I'm not late!" She covers her mouth with her hand and blushes. The pair assure her that no, no she is not late. She heaves a sigh of relief and beams at them.

Again, the same narrow twisting streets and cloned houses that seem to have popped out of the ground like toadstools after a summer rain. Zexion could grow really sick of seeing this day in and day out. Still no sign of Heartless. A pity, that. Demyx could use the exercise.

He mentions this to the blond, who frowns. "Say, Zex, no offence, but have you heard of a little thing called 'relaxation?' You might wanna try it sometime."

Of course, Zexion has heard of relaxation. He's even done it a few times, believe it or not. That was when Axel wasn't trying to kill them, however. The fact that they have seen neither hide nor hair of him means little. Nor the fact that they have not seen either Sora, Riku, Kairi or King Mickey. This peace will not last for long, Zexion is certain. It never does. Surely Demyx knows this. Still, even Zexion must admit it would be nice if it does.

It's another unassuming house to which Kirie brings them. Zexion spots a large shed in the back, and a small, still pond with a glassy black surface. Dragonflies with delicate crystalline wings skim over the unmoving waters, and cat-tails bow weary heads. It's a perfect breeding ground for mosquitoes. How do you like your malaria?

Kirie sees Zexion staring at the scenery and beams. "Oh, that's my dad's pottery shed. He's a potter." Her smile turns bashful. "My family thinks he's pretty brilliant at it."

And everyone else? Zexion doesn't realise he's spoken aloud until he hears her twitter. (Not that Twitter)

"Oh, they just don't understand his genius, I'm sure. That's what mum says, anyway. " She turns away grimacing. "I think it's a bit weird, but that's probably because I don't 'get' it." She rubs her arm. "I'm not terribly clever, you know." She brightens again. "Oh, yes, you must come in and meet my family. They'd be delighted to have you." She laughs lightly. "After all, it's gotta be hard sleeping in that icky old lighthouse." She grabs them both by the hand before they get a chance to respond to this.

They interrupt an older woman washing dishes at the sink in the kitchen. She jumps and turns to look at the pair. She regards them with tired-looking dark brown eyes cobwebbed at the outer corners with networks of fine lines. Her black chin-length hair is done in a no-nonsense pageboy cut, and she's wearing faded blue denim bib cover-alls and a pale yellow shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She wipes her hands on a white floral dish towel flung over one of her shoulders.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you to show up so soon!" she exclaims. She smiles, making her seem ten years younger than she really is. "Oh, well, I already have the guest room made up for you two." She motions for the boys to follow her, which they do. Down a long hallway and to the left is a wooden door. She opens it for them. "I do hope you find it satisfactory."

Demyx and Zexion have no idea what to expect. It's a reasonably large room, with two beds, one on each wall, a white wicker bedside table in between, with a white milk glass lamp on top, one of those hurricane-type lamps. A large white wood wardrobe sits in one of the corners of the room, not that Zexion is overly keen on opening it at the moment. He and Demyx have had some rather...unpleasant experiences in Narnia, which he would rather not have to go through again. He'll leave the talking lions to the Pride Lands, thank you very much.

The duvets on the beds are rather plain, but serviceable, of some abstract pattern in various shades of blue and cream. Far from Zexion's favourite colours, but he can hardly complain. After all, this is from a woman who took no notice of their lack of luggage. He wonders whether they will be stuck in the same clothes every day. Wouldn't Shuichi just love that?

On the walls hang a few cheap framed prints, like refugees from a mid-priced hotel room. Generic, syrupy sentimental landscapes from a would-be Thomas Kincaid The walls themselves are a nondescript colour somewhere between cream and brown. Khaki, Zexion's mind supplies, though that means little to him. Then again, anything other than white is a colour in his mind. It feels...strange to be in a room that has actual colour on the walls, as beige as it is. Then again, when you start calling beige a colour, it's time to call it a day.

There's a hand-knotted throw rug on the floor, one of those ubiquitous rag rugs that everyone has. It vaguely matches the bedspread, and Zexion wonders whether that's in any way intentional. Probably not, he decides, since everything seems to be a patchwork of yard sale finds and second-hand items given by various neighbours that Mrs Goshima was too polite to decline. Then again, it's not as though they have any room to complain.

It's an unfamiliar ceiling. Zexion knows he has to become accustomed to it, but it feels wrong. Safety is an alien concept to him at this point, and acceptance...no. And yet, this is what this world has offered so far. Aside from Shuichi, of course, but that is only to be expected. Against his better judgement, Zexion would like to see how far this will take him. Not very, he suspects. And yet...

He can hear Demyx scratching away at his notepad, scrawling barely legible cyphers like a child barely out of kindergarten. He marvels that Xemnas had let Demyx go on as long as he has with such abominable handwriting. It's a crime against nature, from what the blue-haired youth can see, an atrocity that would make the Great Old Ones weep tears of blood at the sight. Perhaps Xemnas used Demyx to destroy the Elder Gods that way.

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Demyx and Zexion are very much not looking forward to going to school to-morrow. They've been to more than their fair share of high schools and universities (usually high schools, for some reason.) than they'd like, whether on missions or running away from Axel and the other Key-bearers. It's irritating but inevitable. Kingdom Hearts must really have it in for them, for whatever reason.

Zexion is particularly dreading their introductions to the class. He fears what Demyx might say. Keeping his lies straight is not a talent that Demyx has quite mastered yet. Not to mention the fact that they have to be plausible. Perfect. They are so hosed.

Demyx refuses to go over his story with the older Nobody, saying that it will stifle his "creative juices", whatever that means. Zexion is quite certain he does not want to know.

Zexion is shaken from his thoughts by the sound of their door being slammed open. A dark-haired boy of around ten years of age rushes in, gawking at the two newcomers. This is exactly what they need, no two ways about it. He's dressed in a tee-shirt emblazoned with some yellow rabbit-looking cartoon character the slate-haired boy has never seen, and blue jeans.

"Whoa!" he exclaims, hero worship already in evidence, "you're the French guys?" Before the pair can explain themselves, he adds "Cool!" He turns to shout over his shoulder, "Hey, Kirie, we got French people in our house!

Kirie runs to the door. "Well, yes, we do. They're the exchange students I've been telling you about." She makes a face. "They were gonna sleep in the abandoned lighthouse, 'til I told 'em they were gonna stay here with us."

The boy grimaces. "Ew! I heard that place is haunted! Who wants to live with a buncha smelly ol' ghosts? Zombies are way cooler!"

Then the mother comes in, aghast. Zexion sighs inwardly. So much for privacy. She glares at her son, hands on hips in typical "annoyed mother" fashion. Funny. Zexion has never actually seen this pose outside of media. To think he'd actually get a chance to see it in real life. She then grabs the child by his ear and pulls him out of the room, Kirie tagging at her heels.

Zexion blinks. Well. That isn't something you see every day. Huh. So people do that in real life as well. One learns something new every day.

After a few minutes, they are alone. It is quiet. Zexion likes it that way. It will not last long, of that he is certain.

Demyx does not. "They seem nice," he offers awkwardly. He rubs the back of his head, embarrassed, as well he should be.

"I suppose." He has known them for all of five minutes, if that. Scarcely enough time to draw definite conclusions about people. Besides, he still has his concerns about school to-morrow. Is Kirie going to walk them to school? She would have to; they do not really know the way there. Shuichi will not like that in the slightest, Zexion is sure. Demyx will not care, but the blue-haired youth would really like to make as few enemies here as possible. They have enough of them as it is. They really cannot afford to make any more.

Zexion throws himself on the bed and closes his eyes, not bothering to take off his shoes or anything. Before he gets a chance to fall asleep, however, Kirie is calling them for dinner. He groans but follows her obediently.

A fellow with shaggy grey hair meets them at the table. He is chattering animatedly about a new project for which a client is paying him handsomely.

"'Price is no object,' he says! All I need to do is make a bowl with a black spiral in it! Can you believe that?" He slaps his hands on the table hard enough to make the two Nobodies jump. He grins sheepishly at this. "Sorry, boys. Sometimes my enthusiasm gets the better of me." He laughs. "But he says I understand the 'art of the spiral'. Can you believe that?"

Mrs Goshima smiles and claps her hands. "Why, that's wonderful! It's nice to see someone appreciate your genius for a change."

"Why, father, that's just fantastic!" Kirie gushes. She throws her arms around her father's neck and kisses him on the cheek.

"Yeah, that's great," the boy, whose name has not been mentioned as of yet. "Too bad Shuichi's too much of a jerk to appreciate it."

Mrs Goshima gasps. "Mitsuo! What a thing to say!"

He snorts. "You know it's true." He slurps the udon he's eating noisily, as if to prove his point. Demyx and Zexion have been thoughtfully provided with forks, whilst the rest of the family uses chopsticks. Mitsuo jabs his in the Nobodies' direction. "He was rude to these two, y'know."

Mr Goshima peers at the two, as though seeing them for the first time. Which he probably is, at that. "Is that so?"

Demyx shrugs. "Well, I mean, it's probably a bit odd taking in two people you've never met before." He looks at them for a bit, gauging their reaction.

Mr Goshima laughs. "Yeah, you aren't half right! We probably seem a bit off our rockers doing that, to be fair." He sobers up a bit. "But still, you seem like nice enough kids, good heads on your shoulders and whatnot. Besides, Kirie likes you, so that's something."

Well, at least he admits it. Admitting you have a problem is the first step towards recovery. Still, there's no guarantee he wants help for his "problem." Ah, well. Good to know, at least.
The dinner chatter reverts to the daily minutia, until..."So, what part of France are you boys from, anyway?"

Demyx blinks. "Umm...the French part."

Mr Goshima guffaws heartily at this. "Ain't that the truth!"

"What Demyx means is that we're from Paris." Totally original, that, Zexion. Way to go. You are so good at this. No, really, do keep it up.

Mr Goshima laughs. "It seems like half the French people on the planet are from Paris, at least on the telly." He grins. "What are the odds of meeting actual French people from Paris, am I right?"

Zexion and Demyx force themselves to laugh at this, and the rest of the family joins them. What have they gotten themselves into?

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"Say, Zex, I never did tell you about my Other, did I?"

No, Demyx never has Zexion has always chalked it up to the former having forgotten his past. Then again, most Nobodies were rather disinclined to discuss their previous lives with others not connected to said existences. It was only with the greatest of reluctance that Zexion had ever mentioned Ienzo, and that was only because Demyx kept insisting that the older youth was secretly a former assassin. Really, Demyx's vain imaginings could grow quite tiresome if left unchecked for too long.

"That's Ezio," Zexion had sighed. How the blond came up with these ideas, he had no clue.

"Oh."

Right. So there was that, at least. Zexion had hoped at the time that Demyx would get the hint that prying into his history was considered Very Poor Manners. Demyx did not get hints. Subtlety was all but lost on him. A pity, that. Still, it had taken several tried before the other Nobody had managed to prise out of Zexion that his former name was Ienzo, which supposedly sounded like an Italian sports-car. Since he had no idea what that was, he left it alone. Though it did sound vaguely insulting...

"My Other's Devin Townsend," Demyx had announced. It was all that Zexion could do to keep from face-palming at this.

"Your name is Demyx. There's no V in there. So how can you possibly be Devin Townsend?" Not to mention the fact that he was all but positive that Devin Townsend was bald, and Demyx had a thick head of hair, but that was the least of his problems.
Demyx had grinned at this. "Well, I went by Devy, but the Dusk who checked me in clearly misheard it as 'Demy.' Add an 'X,' and voilà."

Right. Because that's so how it works. Ha, ha, no. Still, Zexion refuses to correct him