LOL I wrote the crack thing, posted it to ao3 with a T rating just bc there are some implications here in the form of jokes, warning in case anyone's not comfortable with that.
Summary: Data Sora and Data Riku get sent to Riku's phone to accompany him on his ventures through Unreality. Riku is appropriately lost.
This is short so we don't get any shenanigans past their first meeting.
~~~
“Hellooo?!”
Riku stares at his gummiphone screen, unblinking as a little romper-wearing Sora taps on the screen from what seems like—the inside.
Beside the little Sora is a little him, a little Riku, in a black coat instead. “Stop screaming or he won’t answer the phone,” the little Riku says tonelessly. He’s typing directly in front of the gummiphone screen (or, behind it?), but squinting somewhere off to the side, as if at an adjacent display.
“You said to call him, didn’t you?”
“You know I didn’t mean like that.”
Riku misses the first “call”, perplexed as he is, but the second call comes with even more yelling—first from the little Sora, then from the little Riku at the little Sora—and Riku is compelled to answer. He taps at the green icon on his phone with an unsteady finger, and is blinded by the little Sora’s smile, now unobstructed by buttons.
“Wow! Look how big you are, Riku!”
The little Riku in-on-behind the screen glances up at Riku for only a moment. The little Riku’s mouth twists as if he doesn’t know whether to be impressed or not.
The little Sora reads the little Riku perfectly. “Aw, c’mon Riku. It’s still you! It’s a compliment! Be proud!”
“Oh, don’t worry about me, Sora. Worry about—uh, the other me...He’s probably confused.”
Riku makes a noise, because confused doesn’t even begin to describe the dizzying mesh of emotions in his chest.
Little Sora turns back to Riku—the big one—and his grin turns sharp. “Let me handle this, Riku.” (He’s still talking to the little one.) “If I let you explain, he’ll probably end up asleep again.”
Little Riku gives Little Sora a mildly offended glare. “Hey, it’s my job to know the ins-and-outs of the datascape; the data chose me.”
And Riku is immediately attuned to the little Riku’s words, and to the little Sora’s reaction. “Hey, don’t say that. Sora’s trying to help.”
The little Sora and Riku both look at Riku, then—truly look. The little Sora glows, and the little Riku finally looks appeased.
Riku doesn’t know how to feel about having his younger self’s little...smirk...turned on him. And the light in Little Sora’s eyes definitely makes Riku feel unsteady on his feet. But he stands his ground.
Sora takes a moment longer than necessary to start talking again. “Thanks, Riku. But my Riku’s—” and Riku chokes a little at the phrasing, “—just saying that because I’m always making fun of him because computers are lame.”
“Your existence literally depends on computers—” the little Riku interjects.
“Yeah, but they’re still lame. I’m the only reason you have any fun in here, huh?”
The little Riku suddenly stops typing because his fists are clenched, and he turns the color of little Sora’s romper. He sneaks a peek at Riku, but the little Sora spots it and cackles.
Even big Riku almost misses the moment Little Riku pulls up his hood, it happens so fast.
“We’re data versions of you,” Little Sora says once he’s stopped laughing, “but I bet you knew that already. The others usually call me Data Sora, and this is Data Riku.”
Riku nods after only a beat of silence.
“We got sent to watch you!” Data Sora announces brightly, as if Data Riku isn’t visibly having a meltdown right beside him, even under the hood. “Uh—! Help you, I mean. King Mickey definitely did not send us to keep an eye on you since you left all by yourself, because he definitely wasn’t super paranoid that something would happen to you, and if he was, he definitely didn’t tell me not to tell you.”
Data Sora crosses his arms behind his spiky head, and Riku doesn’t remember his own Sora being such a little brat. Oh wait, yes he does.
Just the thought of Sora reminds Riku of where he is, and why. The idea of finally finding Sora here makes him feel like he can do anything. It’s been a sensation he’s missed this past year.
Riku looks down at Data Sora, and comes back to himself. For some reason, Data Sora looks as smug as they come, and Data Riku has his hands at his temples, as if in disbelief. Or, maybe embarrassment.
“Alright,” Riku finally says. “But why send you? If anything goes wrong, couldn’t I just let them know myself? I know you guys weren’t on—in—my phone when I left, so clearly there’s still some kind of signal between here and there.”
“Look at you—me—using your brain.” Data Riku seems to have finally recovered from whatever fit Data Sora had induced, and of course the first thing Data Riku does is try to sound like he’s been chill this whole time. “But you’re still wrong. The data of your phone can still be accessed and updated even across worlds, or realities or whatever, from the main servers. But signals like the ones you’re thinking, for audio or video calls, can’t reach you here.”
Data Riku has pulled his hood back down, probably just so Riku could see the smug look on his face. “Your phone would be a useless brick here. Lucky for you, I’ve already accessed this world’s data through the kinds of signals they have here, and adapted the phone’s data accordingly. I might have to change it again once you get back, though, so don’t make any friends here you intend to keep.”
Data Sora, who’s been falling asleep, suddenly has something to say. “Hey! Don’t tell him that!” He’s pouting, though, not frowning, so neither of the Rikus bothers to reassure Data Sora. Data Riku just shrugs with his eyes closed, and when Data Sora turns to Riku as a last resort, he shrugs as well.
Data Sora crosses his arms, huffing. “Two Riku’s, and they both suck.”
For some reason, Data Sora grins, and Data Riku absolutely panics.
“Nonono, don’t, Sora! Don’t say it! I will actually delete you!”
It’s as if Data Sora doesn’t even hear the threat. His grin just gets sharper. “But Riku, then what’ll you do for fun?”
Data Riku releases a tortured sound, smashing frantically at his keyboard, and the screen goes dark. Data Riku didn’t just end the call, he shut down the whole phone.
Riku’s perplexed face stares back at him from the dark screen, and he wonders what in unreality is going on in the datascape.
another part to my data boys as gummiphone assistants crack lol. Basic concept: Data Sora and Data Riku get sent to Riku's phone to accompany him on his ventures through unreality.
in this installment: Riku realizes his kh munny doesn't work in Unreality, so Data Riku pulls some bs in order to help Riku win prize money in a motorcycle race.
warnings: some cussing, ig, crack
___
“That’ll be $25.03.”
Riku blinks. He looks down at his munny. He doesn’t know how to divide a single munny into “point three” munny. He’s never needed to do that back home.
He does the next best thing, and holds out twenty-six munny.
The cashier reflexively reaches out his hand, then pulls away. He stares at Riku’s hand, then glares at Riku’s face.
Riku pulls his munny back just an inch. “...I’m sorry, I only have twenty-six.”
The cashier squints, then glares again. “Is this a joke or something?”
Riku’s phone rings in his pocket, but Riku feels himself growing confused, and doesn’t want to add the data kids to the mess. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong? Is it the total?”
The cashier looks to the side, as if attempting to take a mental break from the situation, before turning back to Riku. “Dude, stop with the prank. You already ordered your food, just—”
“What is it?” someone calls from within the kitchen of the restaurant.
“Hold the food,” the cashier calls back. “This guy’s trying to pay in marbles or something.”
“What the fuck?”
Riku blinks. What did that mean? The word, the marbles, the prank, all of it?
“I’m sorry,” Riku apologizes again, and he knows Data Sora is going to give him a talking to for it. “I’m—Cancel my order, I—”
The cashier sighs, and taps on the monitor of the register. “Alright, man, just—don’t do this kinda stuff; no one watches prank videos anymore.”
Riku nods, despite not understanding a word being said, and ducks out of the restaurant, munny in hand.
He wanders the streets for a good while, until his confusion and embarrassment simmer down. Only then does he finally answer his phone, which hasn’t stopped ringing incessantly.
“Hellooo?!”
Riku braces himself. “What is it, Sora—”
“Riku! What was that? What happened? Why didn’t you answer? And what did I tell you about over-apologizing?”
“I was busy,” Riku quickly answers, if only because otherwise, Data Sora would keep asking questions.
“Busy not eating! And right when you finally decided to! Go back!”
Riku thinks about the munny he’d stuffed back in his pocket, and feels his earlier frustration returning. “And what? They wouldn’t take my munny, and I don’t think it’s because of something I did.”
Data Riku scoffs, and it’s the first sound he’s made this whole time. “That’s why I was calling you. Was there a weird “S” looking symbol on the menu?”
Riku doesn’t have to think twice. It had stood out to him instantly. “Yeah.”
“I thought so. That symbol represents the currency here. Your munny from home is different, and it won’t work here.”
“Then why didn’t you warn him?” Data Sora chides, lightly smacking Data Riku's elbow.
“I didn’t check until just a while ago, okay?”
Data Sora gasps, his mild anger seemingly vanishing. “Riku? Not planning ahead?”
Data Riku rolls his eyes, but Data Sora’s antics instantly improve Riku’s mood.
“So now what?” Riku asks, and now there’s less tension in his voice. “I haven’t run into any monsters here, and who’s to say they’d drop munny anyway?”
Data Sora crosses his arms into his usual thinking pose, humming. Data Riku, on the other hand, raises an eyebrow at Riku. The little smirk is back, and Riku can’t believe he used to do such a thing.
“I think I found something,” is all Data Riku says.
Data Sora’s arms fling out beside him in surprise. “Huh?”
Data Riku answers by strolling over to his beloved keyboard, and calling up a holographic display.
Riku blinks, and Data Sora gasps.
“So,” Data Riku asks cheekily, “do you remember how to ride?”
~<~>~
“How did you know about that?” Riku asks as he follows the gps on his phone. He glances up to read a street sign, then looks down at his phone again.
Data Riku scoffs. “Come on. If there’s one adventure of yours I have data of, it’s your time in The Grid.”
“That makes sense.”
Data Sora is turning from one Riku to the other, eyes wide. “Huh? Adventure? Grid? What’re you guys talking about?”
Data Riku points at the hologram in the middle of the room, and Data Sora is transfixed on it once more.
“What I understand so far is that you have to sign up for these things in advance,” Data Riku explains. “Because it’s an official event, which is the only kind that will even give you a chance at winning prize money.”
“Prize munny?” Data Sora asks. “I thought munny was no good here.”
“Currency,” Data Riku clarifies. “Money, different from ours. Or at least this world’s equivalent of munny.”
Riku turns a corner, and suddenly he hears the echoes of squealing tires. It sends a rush of excitement through Riku’s veins.
An obvious hole in their plan then makes itself known.
“How am I supposed to race? I don’t have a bike.”
Riku’s words cause Data Sora to turn back to the hologram from before, and he practically drools over the flickering image of a motorcycle. “Biiike…”
Data Riku keeps typing without missing a beat. “I was going to focus on the process of registering you for the races in the first place, first. But—” and Riku’s screen suddenly shows a different display “it’s done. Almost. Basically.”
Riku scans the webpage on his screen, slightly distracted by the increasing sounds of revving engines and the smell of burning rubber.
“This is the login screen for current racers,” Data Riku’s voice explains. “This will serve as a pathway between the gummiphone and the servers housing the roster data. I’ll do some tweaking, and if all goes well, you should appear on the roster as if you’ve been entered the whole time.”
Something about this situation feels vaguely familiar to Riku, but’s it’s a barely-there sensation that’s interrupted by the sound of Data Sora snoring in the background. Riku smiles. “What do you need me to do?”
The gummiphone screen switches back to the room in the datascape. “Here? Nothing,” Data Riku answers. “What I do want you to do is find me a vessel.”
Riku stops walking midstep. “What?!”
Again, Data Riku doesn’t even blink at his monitor. “It’s not for me. It’s for you. Or, more accurately, your bike.”
At this, Data Sora wakes up from his standing nap. “Bike? What bike?”
Both Riku’s smile.
“Exactly,” Data Riku says. “I can’t just make a bike out of nowhere, not out there. The code needs to exist within something tangible, preferably something which’s code I can simply rewrite.”
Riku nods, and looks around. “Alright. What exactly could you use as this ‘something’?”
The display on Riku’s phone screen changes, flickering between various images of different types of electronics.
“Any smart device should work. They’re like your gummiphone, devices that can be personalized and connect and interact with you as its user and other compatible devices.”
Riku commits the appearance of said devices to memory, and resumes his search. “Where could I find one?”
“...Go into that restaurant.”
Riku looks at his phone to see what Data Riku is referring to. Across the street is what looks like a fast food place, but Riku doesn’t understand.
“Why? I can’t buy anything there. That’s the whole reason we’re going through all this trouble to win prize money at the races.”
Data Riku is grinning, and it’s unsettling. “Just go in.”
Against his better judgement, Riku listens.
Once inside the restaurant, Data Riku instructs Riku to approach one of the booths labeled “self-checkout”. In the booth is a large tablet fixed in place, where it seems customers can place their order themselves without the need for a cashier.
Riku is about to experimentally tap at the display, when suddenly, the tablet starts to seemingly leak pixels—
—until it disappears in a shower of code.
“Oop—”
“Okay, leave the building,” Data Riku instructs.
Riku blinks. “What—Where did the screen go?”
“Don’t worry about it, just leave.”
Riku gapes at his phone. “Are you—Are you stealing?”
“Mind not announcing it to everyone here?” Data Riku’s arms are crossed. “And don’t forget we’re the same person. If I’m stealing, you’re stealing. Now let’s go.”
“Excuse me?” a voice calls, and Riku spots a woman in a uniform walking toward him. “Sir, do you need any—?”
Of course, this is the moment Data Sora decides to join the fun. “We’re stealing?! Awesome!” His voice rings clear from the phone speakers, and the woman balks.
Riku panics for a second, then bolts out the door. Behind him, he hears a voice shout, “What the fuck?”
He isn’t of a mind to ponder the word meaning this time.
On his phone screen, Data Sora is cackling, throwing his arm over Data Riku’s shoulder, who’s having way too much fun at Riku’s expense.
“I can’t believe you just stole a whole tablet,” Riku grunts as he flees the scene.
“Thanks for the vessel,” Data Riku answers, sounding unusually cheerful. “Hurry and get to the track.”
“I’d get there a lot faster with that bike you promised. It’s the least you can do after stealing from that restaurant. I can’t believe—”
Data Sora is still having the time of his life. “Way to go, Riku!” And Data Riku looks way too proud of himself at the praise.
Riku rolls his eyes after glancing over his shoulder for any pursuers. “Teenagers.”
“Alright, jump!”
“What—”
“Jump!”
Riku sees the pixels up ahead, glittering and reforming into a familiar shape.
He jumps.
And he lands on something solid just as the pixels settle into their new form.
People, cars, and buildings all flash past Riku as he crashes down the street, toward his original destination. Data Sora is absolutely losing it as he watches from the gummiphone (which Riku had docked on the console), and looks like he might pass out when Data Riku emulates the scene within their world, with the two of them cruising on a shared bike.
“Wait,” Riku shouts over the wind, and the engine. “Couldn’t I just sell this thing for money?”
“You’d really sell something that you stole?” Data Riku calls back, grinning when Data Sora wraps his arms around his waist.
Riku would swerve into a post if he could focus on the gummiphone for more than a split second at a time. “I didn’t steal anything; that was all you.”
“You keep telling yourself that.”
___
i didn't even get to write him actually racing lol oops. and there's a whole other side to this i'm imagining where sora drags yozora to the very same races riku is about to pop up in, sort of a rapunzel/eugene vibe lmao. yozora really doesn't know why tf his heart tells him to put up with sora's shit but he does it anyway. my poor amnesiac boys.
i also know i didn't really explain my bs logic for how data riku turns a tablet into a motorcycle (i never even mentioned the motorcycle once it appeared either LMAO). i would have, in data riku fashion, but it would've made for a block of text full of made up nonsense lol
