Peanut

Roxas stepped away and grabbed his guitar off its stand, the teen sitting down on the ground with it as he began to tune it. Namine said before that she liked it when he played guitar, so maybe this could help soothe both of them from the stupid paparazzi. And he'd get to homework too; he cared deeply about Namine, which was why he was going to try to keep his GPA up so she could have a home.

Roxas took his hand away after a few moments, not sure what else to do. He was back at college now, so that meant he had homework. A month's worth of it, since that was how long he was away. He may have had a scholarship that covered everything, but if he didn't get working, his GPA would drop too far and he'd lose the room. Then he and Namine would both be homeless.

Roxas dropped his bags as well, irritation making him do it a little loudly. But when he saw Namine's position, he softened. He approached her and set a hand on her shoulder from behind, his eyes going to the open window in thought. These were just rumors going around. It was better than anyone physically wanting to hurt them.

The press could only follow them so far; once they reached the dormitories, they were turned away be security officers. Roxas and Namine walked down the hall in silence until they reached his room. He set one of his bags down, unlocked the door, and opened it for Namine to go in. They were free of the press for now, but he was still seething.

"Roxas, you've aligned yourself with the Keyblade wielders again," another reporter called out. "Why the sudden change of heart?" "Because," Roxas heard himself saying, the blond turning around to face the reporters head on. "I wanted to protect my home, though I'm starting to question why I'd want to protect people who enjoy harassing others just so they can get a good story!" He glared at them, seeing one or two still snap photos while the rest were in shock. He tsked and turned around, starting forward again. Talking to them was pointless.

"We heard that Namine's apartment was covered in blood. Was there abuse involved?" Roxas stopped walking when he heard that comment amidst the many others. They thought that he hurt her? He tightened his grasp on the suitcase handles he held, glaring ahead as the paparazzi stood behind. He desperately wanted to refute that one.

"Care to share why you're harassing an innocent girl?" Roxas growled under his breath, though he doubted anyone heard him but maybe Namine. If both his hands weren't taken, he would have set a hand on Namine's back to encourage her forward. But she was already going since she hated the paparazzi too. How'd they find out about her eviction anyway? Weren't there privacy laws against that knowledge being released?

Three Days Later Roxas glanced over his shoulder as he rolled a large and heavy suitcase behind him in front of the college entrance, his eyebrows furrowing at the photo-snapping paparazzi. "Don't you guys have anything better to do?" he nearly growled at them. Today was the last day that they were moving stuff into his college dorm room for Namine; they had been making short trips in the past few days and this was the last batch. Sora and Kairi couldn't be here to help, as they were busy with the press the past few days and telling them about the Xehanort crisis. Riku and Lightning were still locked in jail, so it was up to Roxas and Namine. He really wasn't happy that she had to be exposed to these stupid media people, but she wouldn't let him carry all her stuff in alone.

Roxas looked away, removing his hand from Namine's. "No," he disagreed. "I haven't." She was hurt before because of his weakness, but that wasn't going to happen today. He tightened his grasp on the paper towel and began to clean up the mess on the floor without giving Namine time to protest.

Roxas lifted his free hand, placing it atop Namine's on his cheek. Her words touched him, but even so... "Let me do this," he requested again, keeping his voice soft. "Let me be strong enough for you this time." He wasn't strong enough in the past, but maybe this time, he could be.

Roxas opened his eyes, seeing Namine in front of him and in close proximity. He didn't mind it, and she didn't seem to either. "I'd rather be hurt than see you hurt," he said quietly. There was no reason to hide that fact from her; anyone who saw him lately would see that truth easily.

Roxas shut his eyes, hearing Namine's plea. She knew what she wanted, but even so... "Let me do this," he said quietly. "For you. I haven't been able to do much for you, but I can at least do this." He wasn't able to save her from Seifer, keep her from being evicted or stop them from taking away Faye. The least he could do was clean up a mess.

Roxas couldn't say no to the hand that was on his face; he doubted he would ever shy away from Namine's gentle touch, even when he didn't want her seeing his eyes. But she wanted to see them, so he would show them to her. He was tired--emotionally exhausted. Today was rough on both of them.

Roxas lowered his gaze to the paper-towel in his hand. "I don't want you to have to do this," he said quietly. "I can do it." He had to toughen up; he had to be stronger for her. Why was all the blood getting to him so much? That was weakness.

Roxas jumped slightly at Namine's sudden reappearance. Had he been stalling that long? "Sorry," he automatically said. "I'll wrap this up." But even as he said that, he couldn't force himself to move. This blood was evidence that he put Namine in a position that hurt her. He couldn't protect her from anything at all, could he?

After cleaning up the shattered plates, Roxas sat on his knees on the floor to clean up the blood. He had wet paper-towels in his hands so he could do it. But looking at her blood on the floor...He felt so sick. He shouldn't have asked her to do anything today; he should have done everything and sent her to Kairi. If he had been smart, this wouldn't have happened. Namine wouldn't be so hurt, and he wouldn't have to look at her blood.

Roxas opened his mouth to give Namine some reassurance, but she ran before he could say anything. He felt so bad, but he didn't know what to do. He carefully cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, careful not to cut himself on the shattered plates. Once he finished with those, he'd have to clean Namine's blood. Cleaning up his and Seifer's earlier made him feel sick, but the idea of cleaning Namine's was ten times worse.

Roxas approached Namine, hovering his hands over hers as he cast a spell that was easily strong enough to take away the pain. "It's okay," he said for what felt like the hundredth time. "Why don't you go wash in the bathroom? I'll clean this up." He didn't want her accidentally hurting herself on the plates.

Roxas bolted upright in his seat, suddenly awake again at the cry from the kitchen. He shoved the chair backwards and practically ran to the room, seeing Namine standing there with her hand in her grasp. "What?" he asked in alarm. But he hardly needed to ask; he saw the debris.

Roxas now sat in front of Namine's computer, tired eyes skimming over information. He had no clue how to fix walls, so he was trying to figure out how to do that. None of their friends knew how to fix walls and calling in a repairman would be expensive. How hard could it be, right?

Since Roxas and Namine returned to the Islands around 9:00 in the morning, they had all day to work on cleaning up her house. That was both good and bad: good because the work needed to get done, and bad because they were in a place that brought up painful memories. Cleaning up the blood left a bitter taste in Roxas's mouth; this was a reminder of his failure to protect Namine. By the time dinner rolled around, he was emotionally exhausted because of the work. The blood was mostly gone from both the bedroom and the hall, but his memories weren't.

Roxas bit the inside of his cheek, scolding himself for obviously triggering a memory. "I'll go get the radio and plug it in in the hallway," he said, changing the subject. While she worked in the living room, he'd try to sort out her bedroom the best he could. He heard some types of soda could remove blood stains, so he'd have to try that.

No. Wait. "Not the bedroom," Roxas said in sudden seriousness, taking his hand back. That was where he and Seifer fought for a majority of the battle; that room was a bloody mess. "Um...Why don't you work in the living room?" She definitely had personal items out here she could compile while he cleaned the bedroom.

Roxas set a hand on Namine's head, looking towards the window. He wanted to take her away from here to get her mind off things, but at the same time, the paparazzi were waiting to harass them outside this apartment complex. There was really only one thing they could do, and that was get started. "Why don't you get started in the bedroom?" he suggested. "We can blare music while we work." She had a radio in her bedroom from what he could remember.

Roxas looked down at Namine, his weak smile still present. "Of course," he said, automatically lifted a hand to wipe her bangs out of her eyes. They were damp because of the tears that she just shed--tears that he was tempted to wipe away as well. He and Namine were close, but were they close enough for him to do that? Was this even okay, or was he taking advantage of her weakness?