[ he's never seen snow before.

he's seen some form of it, though — vexen (that's not his name anymore, isn't it?) was always as cold as the ice he wielded, just as harsh and biting as the wind that cuts against his exposed nose and cheeks. as bundled up as he is, he feels unprepared for the mass of white that greets them, and the swell of something that could be rage or bile at the sense of compliance he feels at the guard's command is only softened just enough by the novelty of it all.

this experience is still his, something that isn't from riku's memories. he's treading unknown territory on his own now, and that fills him with the determination to wade through the snow anyway, if a little awkward and ungainly. a pseudo island boy is still a pseudo island boy, even one that should have been, by his own design, dead.

it's when he's sorting through that technicality that he stumbles just outside the doors of the lobby, losing his balance and falling face first to eat snow. nice. great first impression. ]

[ out of one prison and into the next.

well, sort of. the dorms are at least much better than anything he'd ever gotten back at the castle: having his own clothes and his own bed is more than the organization had ever thought to provide him with. he takes the extra supplies quickly, as if expecting someone to come along and snatch it out of his hands afterwards, but that doesn't happen. he spends most of the day without touching them, but no one comes to him demanding payment. they're his. it makes him even more suspicious about everything, though he can't deny that the warmth is nice.

he spends most of the first few days slinking around the common areas, quiet as he watches people come and go. before he even starts wondering about whether or not riku is here, he has the answer already: someone catches his gaze and a spark of recognition enters into their eyes. he watches that same spark dim in confusion, the deepening furrow in their brow — ]

Yeah, [ he says, before they can get the question out. riku? ] But the two-point-oh version. Sorry.

[ he doesn't sound very sorry at all. just another day in the life as a replica. unfortunately, he isn't completely aware that cloning is illegal just yet. ]

[ he's taken to tucking up all his hair beneath the hat whenever he goes anywhere now, at least until he can get his hands on some hair dye. but this works out for as long as they're in new tokyo, and he signs up for whatever relief work they have. staying confined in one space was never something he took well to, and he figures he can learn more about the world while going outside anyway.

whether it's delivering supplies, finding missing people, or even shoveling snow, he does it all without complaint. he's the first to go out onto the train tracks to clear the snow, despite his graceful spill earlier. practice makes perfect, right? ]

[ feel free to bump into him wherever and whenever, as well as mistake him for the real riku! he'll mostly be snooping around the common areas of the dorms, taking food like some kind of prickly stray cat, and occasionally contemplating what it's like to be a real boy. PM me if you have any questions or want to plot anything out! ]