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sira
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts;![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
appletrek
Pairings/Characters: Sora (ninja;keyofkonoha), implied Sora/canon!Riku and past-Sora/nin!Riku.
Rating: G - PG
Word Count: 2010
Notes: Originally posted here, as an introspective character vignette. Takes place shortly after Riku collapses out of exhaustion in the simulation room, after fighting back Xehanort, and they've brought him to the hospital wing. Sora asked if he could stay by Riku's side for the night, and Axel and Kai decided to figure things out in private, leaving him alone to reflect; about Rikus, about friends, and about home.
"Night, Sora."
He waited until the door silently slid shut behind Axel and Kai, before allowing his head to fall against the back of the chair with a dull thud. Staring up at the dimmed fluorescent lights in the ceiling, he found himself absently wondering why hospitals always came with that sort of cold, detached feeling lingering in the air. But it was worse, he guessed, on the ship, where it was all white and chrome and whirring of complicated mechanical apparatuses, something the hospital back in Konoha was thankfully lacking.
It was funny, but looking down at Riku, he seemed to blend into the environment almost too well; silver locks of hair spread out neatly against the crisp white of the linens, light skin even paler in his exhausted state, and expression utterly serene, not quite happy but not quite angry or sad. And it was fitting, because unless you either mattered enough or were particularly observant, it was too easy for a Riku to come off just as cold and unyielding as the sleek, bare metal table next to them, especially from a distance.
Except he wasn't, and maybe that was one of the more strikingly similar things about the two, because the room, despite appearances, was warm if you closed your eyes and simply felt. And just the same—Sora smiled a little—Riku was one of the warmest things you'd ever feel, even in the darkness.
A tired sigh escaping his lips, he stretched out his legs and stood again, quietly padding across the room. In spite of his physical weariness, his mind was more awake than it had been in days, thoughts racing through possibilities with no foreseeable end, as if on a circular track. It had been a momentary spike of optimism, or maybe simple idealism, when he'd come up with the idea of finding Roxas in order to rid Riku of the malevolent parasite that never seemed to give up on its own, and somehow managed to sidestep all possible obstacles.
Surprisingly, he knew finding Roxas wasn't going to be that difficult, and that was because—if Axel had gotten his story straight—Roxas was currently out there looking for him. In theory, it was as easy as setting out a baby antelope to lure in a hungry lion (not a metaphor Sora really enjoyed thinking about in literal terms, by any means, but unfortunately appropriate for the situation). It was, he had to admit, a completely different story in getting him to agree. Especially in regards to strangers from other dimensions. Especially in regards to a Riku he had an equal chance of not giving a fuck about versus hating the guts of.
Especially in regards to the fact that this Roxas had still never met Sora his entire life, and for all anyone knew, might end up attempting to kill him on sight.
And would succeed pretty damn easily, he thought dully, considering his still less-than-top-form.
So, worst case scenario, assuming Roxas was alive and well: he kills Sora, Riku most likely exacts revenge using Xehanort, darkness falls, everyone dies. Heartless take over. Worlds explode. Universe collapses in on itself. All existence becomes non-existence.
(He knew there was a reason he was an optimist by default, Sora thought with a grimace.)
Best case scenario: he meets Sora, isn't at all adverse to the plan, Xehanort gets the metaphorical boot out of Rikuville, Angston, they save the worlds, happy ending.
Most realistic scenario: he meets Sora, is skeptical of the whole situation but manages to warm up to the idea somehow (note: Axel's manipulation skills, if they existed, would come in handy), he trains with Sora for weeks to figure out his full potential with the limit + bijuu, they encounter some/many hiccoughs along the way, but in the end, manage to figure everything out and the mission is a success.
Sora only realized he had gone back to his seat when he ended up slumping into it dejectedly.
Still.
Even if Murphy's law kicked in and the universe did its whole collapsing thing, they had to try. Just as he had told Axel. No one ever accomplished anything without at least giving it a shot, some without a clue as to what would happen, and it was one of those invaluable life lessons Sora was determined to keep on top of everything, no matter what. And if everyone was willing to help out in some way, if everyone did their best and approached it from all possible angles, it only increased their chances of succeeding. Suddenly, but not for the first time, Sora was really, really glad they—everyone, every irreplaceable member of the group that had somehow ended up the last remaining traces of the Room—were a team.
No, he corrected himself, he was really, really glad they were friends.
"You just wait, Riku," he said, leaning over a little, but careful to keep his voice to a low murmur. "We're all in this together, and before you know it, you'll never have to worry about him again. Not..." He let the word die, half-afraid he had woken Riku up when he could have sworn he saw movement, but after a few minutes of utter stillness bar the steady rise and fall of his chest, Sora realized it must have been his imagination, and continued. "... Not once. I promise." He repeated it, softer, for himself. "I promise."
There was a suspended moment of motionless silence, before Sora got to his feet again and started making his way for the door, with a glance and a smile over his shoulder; just as though Riku was sitting awake on the bed, knees drawn up and back against the pillows, some kind of book in hand, mock-pretending that he hadn't even notice Sora get up and leave, but giving up the façade to add in a request for hot chocolate at the last second.
"I'll be right back," he called out quietly, and activated the mechanism that slid the door open, stepping out into the hall.
In the kitchen, Sora found himself heading back into the routine he had developed over Christmas break, when Riku had been in that deep coma, which wasn't all too surprising, considering the circumstances. The reality of the fact only hit him after he was already pouring hot milk into a large mug, and he stilled for a brief moment, before setting the milk aside and turning to lean against the counter, head bowed.
"It's okay," he muttered to himself, not even all that positive what he was referring to. "It's fine. It'll be fine." He pushed off the counter, glancing around for some place to sit, then changing his mind and deciding to pace in circles instead.
There was a lot more to going back home than just the Roxas issue, as major as it was. Of course, it would have been more significant had he not already met at least some version of his Roxas in the Room (and gotten to know pretty well, as a matter of fact) but there was also the fact, which seemed to loom over everything and cast a stubborn shadow while it was at it, that he'd have to see his best friend.
And out of all the things Sora would have to force himself to do in his lifetime, breaking the heart of the first person he had ever honestly loved with his whole being for a second time was one of the ones he dreaded most. Especially when this Riku... when this Riku would have been without him (closed up again, calmly desperate, searching relentlessly, oblivious) for more than a full year, if the timelines matched up.
It was enough guilt to be physically painful, and it showed, when Sora stopped pacing in favour of dropping to the floor and sitting with his back against the lower cupboards, knees tucked into his chest and head buried into his arms. He wasn't crying (though he might have preferred it, if only because he'd feel at least a little better afterwards) but he was still taking deep, shaky breaths, suddenly the most anxious he had been all night. He tried to tell himself it wasn't that big of a deal, that Riku would be fine and everyone would be fine and it would all work out, but for some reason he couldn't quite grasp, he knew how hard it was going to be this time, and in all gritty honesty, he wasn't entirely positive if he'd have the strength to actually make it through, when the time came.
There was some part of him that still clung to the hope that Riku had perhaps moved on, as well, had found a new rival and a new best friend and had gone through twice as many simultaneously rough and life-changing times with this new person as he had with Sora. And maybe they could both be happy with who they had, and return to being just friends, just as they were before everything had turned horribly, terrifyingly amazing.
Imagining this might have been marginally worse than feeling like several rabid dogs were shredding his heart in all different directions, but, as he told himself firmly, he had absolutely no right to feel like that anymore. He was in love with someone else now—head over heels, in fact, and still more than a little crazy about even after nearly a year, and despite everything it was all truth—and though no one would be able to replace the person who had irrefutably shaped him into who he was today, he had made the choice to give him up ages ago, and needed to remember that.
With that, added to the existing worries of whether he qualified as a missing-nin, whether he was at all up to his par as a ninja with his old friends anymore, whether the Organization was planning something completely devastating (and had possibly followed through with such plans in his absence), whether certain people were even still alive, to name just a few, and Sora had the vague, mildly bitter thought that maybe, just maybe, they shouldn't be going at all.
It was promptly dismissed, though, because as logically flawed as the plan was, all the logic in the world couldn't have let him deny the fact that throughout it all, he missed home, and wanted nothing more, especially at that moment, than to be sitting by the river with his family for a noon picnic, being teased by Riku and Kairi and lectured by Donald and smiled at by Goofy and taught some subtle valuable lesson by Leon-sensei, and exhausted and sunburnt and happy, without a care in the world.
Except that scenario was a long shot even optimism couldn't catch a proper glimpse of, and it was perhaps simply accepting the fact that things were never going to be the same again—no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard anyone tried—that was the hardest part of it all.
"No point worrying about it now," Sora muttered, into his arms, and just like that, he'd managed to cast off the majority of his troubling thoughts, to be looked at another time. It was almost reflexive, because if there was one thing all Soras had to learn at some point, it was that in the end, they were what kept everyone else standing, and they couldn't do that if they were about to fall apart on the inside.
Breathing out one last, long sigh, he lifted his head and stood, glancing down at his abandoned mug of milk and giving a small, helpless laugh, before pouring it back in the pot and turning the element back on. Taking the milk off the counter, he strode back over to the refrigerator, spotting a note attached to the door with a magnet, that he must have missed the first time he'd opened the fridge. He paused to read it, hand poised over the handle.
Several minutes later, he left smiling, and was back in the hospital wing, settled once again into the chair by Riku's bedside, with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate resting on the night stand between them.
*
It's a funny thing about coming home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You'll realize what's changed is you.
- The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
*
Word Count: 1588
Notes: Originally posted here. This takes place when they're on ninjaplanet, by a village in the eastern islands; Ammy, Axel, Kai, and Riku are chillin' out in an inn, and Sora left to go 'take care of some things'. Warning for baww, but that's a given.
The moment Sora quietly slid the door shut behind him, he let out a small sigh, lips settling into a smile and gaze drawn to the floor, before he started making his way down the hall.
It had been nice, watching the sunset with Riku—and a real one, at that, the first since... well. Since that day he had first and last seen Destiny Islands, but it was difficult to be completely certain that had been real, either, considering how blurred the line between what was true and what wasn't had been with the Room. Witnessing the sun's descent always calmed and brought him to a type of peace with the sky and earth, a welcome and complimentary contrast to the optimistic thrill he felt when watching it rise up again. It was when everything came full circle, as if it was the world's reassurance that nothing was truly over because the morning would always come, and it was one of the things he lived for.
Freedom was a strange thing, after being deprived of it for so long, Sora decided, as he left the inn and emerged into the cool evening air. You never really knew where to start from that point on, when the walls around you, previously keeping you firmly locked in, suddenly opened wide into an expanse of possibilities you'd forgotten could even exist.
And he had, until he'd first noticed the small cove a little ways down the coast, tying together his unsettling feelings of familiarity with the area. He hadn't even stopped to consider if it was a good idea or not, visiting a place that held close one of his most valuable memories, but it was one of those times where sense was taking the backseat, because it was his heart wishing to rediscover something it had long lost grasp of.
By the time he'd headed out past the outskirts of the village, leaving the lights behind, the darkness of night had fallen easily upon the shore, without relief even from the moon, which was most likely tucked behind the clouds. He padded slowly across the beach and stopped at water's edge, waves brushing against his toes briefly, as if in greeting, before retreating. It was a moment of calm, and it was his life, right here—and before this moment, he'd never quite realized how much he'd missed it.
He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, then opened them as he exhaled and glanced down the coast; there were faintly visible specks of light, flickering like flames and brighter than anything in the pitch black. Now driven by curiosity, Sora started off again, this time at a quicker pace, feet digging harsh imprints in the sand and leaving low clouds of dust in their wake. He began to trace the treeline, then disappeared into it completely as he neared the source of the lights, ducked amidst the cover of the undergrowth before he was able to get a good look at the... fireflies.
He relaxed, then gave a soft laugh under his breath for not figuring that out sooner and straightened, emerging from the trees and walking out to the dirt path that crawled up a shallow slope along the shore. He kept a watchful, fond eye on the flashing pinpoints of light hovering just above the surface of the water ahead, accompanied by the vague feeling of something slowly clicking into place in the back of his head, but he paid it no mind.
He came to an abrupt halt the moment he caught sight of the house.
Or, more accurately, the pile of cracked wood and rubble that dominated the scene, with the other half struggling to remain intact. In the dim ambient light, he could just barely make out the familiar furnishings of the living room, a whole section utterly scorched and crumbled, and the rest torn out and left beyond recognition in the rest of the ruins.
It could have been a storm, it could have been a fire, it could have been vandalism, or a high-powered fight, or any number of causes, but somehow, Sora knew—knew even before he ran up and dropped to his knees, picking up a broken piece of blackened wood and gripping it tightly, eyes clenched shut as he instinctively seeked out any hints of chakra left in the damage—that it was Riku who had done this.
And that realization itself hurt more than it would have if the entire house had been swept away into the sea.
"How..." he began softly, voice rough, fingers loosening and dropping the piece of wood with a muted clatter. His eyes opened, focused on the ground in front of them, next word choked out. "Why?"
He remained still and silent for a long moment, head bowed, as he attempted to overcome a sudden onslaught of thoughts and emotions twisting themselves in a whirlwind within his mind and heart, before slowly standing. Forcing himself to turn away from the house, he instead directed his gaze towards the dock a short distance away, which was thankfully intact, and moved a step forward with a single shaky breath. Slowly, he took another, then another, then abruptly broke into a run back down the slope and across the beach, and was collapsed on the dock before he could quite register what had just happened, face buried in his arms and shoulders shaking.
"Sometimes, don't you wish it was this simple? That we could just stay here, and not have to worry about a thing ever again."
"So let's do it, someday. I'll take you back here and we can live just like that."
"Ha, if they don't catch us first."
"We'll just have to keep running, in that case."
"That wouldn't be so bad. Home's anywhere with you, after all."
"Then I guess home's where we'll always be."
It seemed like hours had passed, as these moments often did, by the time he finally lifted his head and rubbed his face with the back of his hand.
"Come on, Sora," he muttered, throat too sore to be anything above barely audible. "Get over yourself. It's... different now."
He swallowed down the lump in his throat and instead pushed himself over to the edge of the dock, dipping his hands into the water and splashing it on his face in some attempt to calm himself down. It was shockingly cold, and exactly what he needed, and within a few seconds of deep breathing he was fine; drained, but fine. With a short sigh, he moved over to fall back against the creaky wood, arm draped over his forehead as he stared up at the sky. The stars were still hidden, and only silver wisps of the backlit clouds scattered across the expanse of it were left to battle the darkness.
It had been a recon mission (two years ago? it hadn't seemed that long at all) like any other, with the added excitement of heading to the islands; it was something that happened only once every so often, and was definitely one of the team's preferred destinations. Sometime during the investigation, they'd encountered a wizened retired fisherman who had told them the story of the nearby abandoned house, centered around events occurring 11 years previous. After they had pressed the man for details and gone to explore the house itself (in which all the furniture and decor was found dusty, but otherwise eerily untouched, as though still occupied) they had uncovered the clan symbol engraved on top of an old chest—the very same clan symbol adorning the back of Riku's vest in that moment.
Of course, finding such an integral piece to the expansive puzzle that was Riku's past was definitely a bigger deal than anything else they could have accomplished that mission, and it was at Sora's insistence that they stayed the night in that house. Loosely speaking, that was, as Riku had chosen instead to sit out on the dock and watch the water. Sora had joined him not too long afterwards, and they'd stayed to sunrise, switching between companionable silences and short conversations about everything and occasionally nothing, until he had eventually fallen fast asleep against Riku's shoulder. And if his hunch was correct, the fact that as far as anyone knew, their promise of peace—promise of the future, promise of them—had been completely destroyed was the reason Riku had returned to this place and taken his anger and heartbreak out on it.
But, he tried to convince himself, if weakly. It was just a house. It didn't mean anything for them unless he chose to see it that way. He wasn't traitorous, missing, or dead, so it was all a simple misunderstanding, and all he needed to do was find Riku and explain everything.
And maybe, he thought, maybe it was just that simple. Dwelling on how difficult it was going to be certainly wasn't making it any easier. So he'd deal with it when the time came, whatever might happen, but it would be okay. It would, and he'd make sure of it. It was something he'd swear to Riku, to Kairi, to Leon, to all of his friends, to Roxas—and now, to himself.
Sora got to his feet, head turned towards the ocean, and one hand lifted as if in goodbye. The cloud of fireflies rose, like waterfall mist somehow set ablaze, and retreated to the woods.
"Wait for me," he said firmly, voice clear and loud in the silence. "I'll be there soon. You can count on it."
He left to make his way back to the village, just when the skies opened and the rain began to fall.
siraFandom: Kingdom Hearts;
appletrekPairings/Characters: Sora (ninja;
keyofkonoha), implied Sora/canon!Riku and past-Sora/nin!Riku.Rating: G - PG
Word Count: 2010
Notes: Originally posted here, as an introspective character vignette. Takes place shortly after Riku collapses out of exhaustion in the simulation room, after fighting back Xehanort, and they've brought him to the hospital wing. Sora asked if he could stay by Riku's side for the night, and Axel and Kai decided to figure things out in private, leaving him alone to reflect; about Rikus, about friends, and about home.
"Night, Sora."
He waited until the door silently slid shut behind Axel and Kai, before allowing his head to fall against the back of the chair with a dull thud. Staring up at the dimmed fluorescent lights in the ceiling, he found himself absently wondering why hospitals always came with that sort of cold, detached feeling lingering in the air. But it was worse, he guessed, on the ship, where it was all white and chrome and whirring of complicated mechanical apparatuses, something the hospital back in Konoha was thankfully lacking.
It was funny, but looking down at Riku, he seemed to blend into the environment almost too well; silver locks of hair spread out neatly against the crisp white of the linens, light skin even paler in his exhausted state, and expression utterly serene, not quite happy but not quite angry or sad. And it was fitting, because unless you either mattered enough or were particularly observant, it was too easy for a Riku to come off just as cold and unyielding as the sleek, bare metal table next to them, especially from a distance.
Except he wasn't, and maybe that was one of the more strikingly similar things about the two, because the room, despite appearances, was warm if you closed your eyes and simply felt. And just the same—Sora smiled a little—Riku was one of the warmest things you'd ever feel, even in the darkness.
A tired sigh escaping his lips, he stretched out his legs and stood again, quietly padding across the room. In spite of his physical weariness, his mind was more awake than it had been in days, thoughts racing through possibilities with no foreseeable end, as if on a circular track. It had been a momentary spike of optimism, or maybe simple idealism, when he'd come up with the idea of finding Roxas in order to rid Riku of the malevolent parasite that never seemed to give up on its own, and somehow managed to sidestep all possible obstacles.
Surprisingly, he knew finding Roxas wasn't going to be that difficult, and that was because—if Axel had gotten his story straight—Roxas was currently out there looking for him. In theory, it was as easy as setting out a baby antelope to lure in a hungry lion (not a metaphor Sora really enjoyed thinking about in literal terms, by any means, but unfortunately appropriate for the situation). It was, he had to admit, a completely different story in getting him to agree. Especially in regards to strangers from other dimensions. Especially in regards to a Riku he had an equal chance of not giving a fuck about versus hating the guts of.
Especially in regards to the fact that this Roxas had still never met Sora his entire life, and for all anyone knew, might end up attempting to kill him on sight.
And would succeed pretty damn easily, he thought dully, considering his still less-than-top-form.
So, worst case scenario, assuming Roxas was alive and well: he kills Sora, Riku most likely exacts revenge using Xehanort, darkness falls, everyone dies. Heartless take over. Worlds explode. Universe collapses in on itself. All existence becomes non-existence.
(He knew there was a reason he was an optimist by default, Sora thought with a grimace.)
Best case scenario: he meets Sora, isn't at all adverse to the plan, Xehanort gets the metaphorical boot out of Rikuville, Angston, they save the worlds, happy ending.
Most realistic scenario: he meets Sora, is skeptical of the whole situation but manages to warm up to the idea somehow (note: Axel's manipulation skills, if they existed, would come in handy), he trains with Sora for weeks to figure out his full potential with the limit + bijuu, they encounter some/many hiccoughs along the way, but in the end, manage to figure everything out and the mission is a success.
Sora only realized he had gone back to his seat when he ended up slumping into it dejectedly.
Still.
Even if Murphy's law kicked in and the universe did its whole collapsing thing, they had to try. Just as he had told Axel. No one ever accomplished anything without at least giving it a shot, some without a clue as to what would happen, and it was one of those invaluable life lessons Sora was determined to keep on top of everything, no matter what. And if everyone was willing to help out in some way, if everyone did their best and approached it from all possible angles, it only increased their chances of succeeding. Suddenly, but not for the first time, Sora was really, really glad they—everyone, every irreplaceable member of the group that had somehow ended up the last remaining traces of the Room—were a team.
No, he corrected himself, he was really, really glad they were friends.
"You just wait, Riku," he said, leaning over a little, but careful to keep his voice to a low murmur. "We're all in this together, and before you know it, you'll never have to worry about him again. Not..." He let the word die, half-afraid he had woken Riku up when he could have sworn he saw movement, but after a few minutes of utter stillness bar the steady rise and fall of his chest, Sora realized it must have been his imagination, and continued. "... Not once. I promise." He repeated it, softer, for himself. "I promise."
There was a suspended moment of motionless silence, before Sora got to his feet again and started making his way for the door, with a glance and a smile over his shoulder; just as though Riku was sitting awake on the bed, knees drawn up and back against the pillows, some kind of book in hand, mock-pretending that he hadn't even notice Sora get up and leave, but giving up the façade to add in a request for hot chocolate at the last second.
"I'll be right back," he called out quietly, and activated the mechanism that slid the door open, stepping out into the hall.
In the kitchen, Sora found himself heading back into the routine he had developed over Christmas break, when Riku had been in that deep coma, which wasn't all too surprising, considering the circumstances. The reality of the fact only hit him after he was already pouring hot milk into a large mug, and he stilled for a brief moment, before setting the milk aside and turning to lean against the counter, head bowed.
"It's okay," he muttered to himself, not even all that positive what he was referring to. "It's fine. It'll be fine." He pushed off the counter, glancing around for some place to sit, then changing his mind and deciding to pace in circles instead.
There was a lot more to going back home than just the Roxas issue, as major as it was. Of course, it would have been more significant had he not already met at least some version of his Roxas in the Room (and gotten to know pretty well, as a matter of fact) but there was also the fact, which seemed to loom over everything and cast a stubborn shadow while it was at it, that he'd have to see his best friend.
And out of all the things Sora would have to force himself to do in his lifetime, breaking the heart of the first person he had ever honestly loved with his whole being for a second time was one of the ones he dreaded most. Especially when this Riku... when this Riku would have been without him (closed up again, calmly desperate, searching relentlessly, oblivious) for more than a full year, if the timelines matched up.
It was enough guilt to be physically painful, and it showed, when Sora stopped pacing in favour of dropping to the floor and sitting with his back against the lower cupboards, knees tucked into his chest and head buried into his arms. He wasn't crying (though he might have preferred it, if only because he'd feel at least a little better afterwards) but he was still taking deep, shaky breaths, suddenly the most anxious he had been all night. He tried to tell himself it wasn't that big of a deal, that Riku would be fine and everyone would be fine and it would all work out, but for some reason he couldn't quite grasp, he knew how hard it was going to be this time, and in all gritty honesty, he wasn't entirely positive if he'd have the strength to actually make it through, when the time came.
There was some part of him that still clung to the hope that Riku had perhaps moved on, as well, had found a new rival and a new best friend and had gone through twice as many simultaneously rough and life-changing times with this new person as he had with Sora. And maybe they could both be happy with who they had, and return to being just friends, just as they were before everything had turned horribly, terrifyingly amazing.
Imagining this might have been marginally worse than feeling like several rabid dogs were shredding his heart in all different directions, but, as he told himself firmly, he had absolutely no right to feel like that anymore. He was in love with someone else now—head over heels, in fact, and still more than a little crazy about even after nearly a year, and despite everything it was all truth—and though no one would be able to replace the person who had irrefutably shaped him into who he was today, he had made the choice to give him up ages ago, and needed to remember that.
With that, added to the existing worries of whether he qualified as a missing-nin, whether he was at all up to his par as a ninja with his old friends anymore, whether the Organization was planning something completely devastating (and had possibly followed through with such plans in his absence), whether certain people were even still alive, to name just a few, and Sora had the vague, mildly bitter thought that maybe, just maybe, they shouldn't be going at all.
It was promptly dismissed, though, because as logically flawed as the plan was, all the logic in the world couldn't have let him deny the fact that throughout it all, he missed home, and wanted nothing more, especially at that moment, than to be sitting by the river with his family for a noon picnic, being teased by Riku and Kairi and lectured by Donald and smiled at by Goofy and taught some subtle valuable lesson by Leon-sensei, and exhausted and sunburnt and happy, without a care in the world.
Except that scenario was a long shot even optimism couldn't catch a proper glimpse of, and it was perhaps simply accepting the fact that things were never going to be the same again—no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard anyone tried—that was the hardest part of it all.
"No point worrying about it now," Sora muttered, into his arms, and just like that, he'd managed to cast off the majority of his troubling thoughts, to be looked at another time. It was almost reflexive, because if there was one thing all Soras had to learn at some point, it was that in the end, they were what kept everyone else standing, and they couldn't do that if they were about to fall apart on the inside.
Breathing out one last, long sigh, he lifted his head and stood, glancing down at his abandoned mug of milk and giving a small, helpless laugh, before pouring it back in the pot and turning the element back on. Taking the milk off the counter, he strode back over to the refrigerator, spotting a note attached to the door with a magnet, that he must have missed the first time he'd opened the fridge. He paused to read it, hand poised over the handle.
Several minutes later, he left smiling, and was back in the hospital wing, settled once again into the chair by Riku's bedside, with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate resting on the night stand between them.
It's a funny thing about coming home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You'll realize what's changed is you.
- The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
*
Word Count: 1588
Notes: Originally posted here. This takes place when they're on ninjaplanet, by a village in the eastern islands; Ammy, Axel, Kai, and Riku are chillin' out in an inn, and Sora left to go 'take care of some things'. Warning for baww, but that's a given.
The moment Sora quietly slid the door shut behind him, he let out a small sigh, lips settling into a smile and gaze drawn to the floor, before he started making his way down the hall.
It had been nice, watching the sunset with Riku—and a real one, at that, the first since... well. Since that day he had first and last seen Destiny Islands, but it was difficult to be completely certain that had been real, either, considering how blurred the line between what was true and what wasn't had been with the Room. Witnessing the sun's descent always calmed and brought him to a type of peace with the sky and earth, a welcome and complimentary contrast to the optimistic thrill he felt when watching it rise up again. It was when everything came full circle, as if it was the world's reassurance that nothing was truly over because the morning would always come, and it was one of the things he lived for.
Freedom was a strange thing, after being deprived of it for so long, Sora decided, as he left the inn and emerged into the cool evening air. You never really knew where to start from that point on, when the walls around you, previously keeping you firmly locked in, suddenly opened wide into an expanse of possibilities you'd forgotten could even exist.
And he had, until he'd first noticed the small cove a little ways down the coast, tying together his unsettling feelings of familiarity with the area. He hadn't even stopped to consider if it was a good idea or not, visiting a place that held close one of his most valuable memories, but it was one of those times where sense was taking the backseat, because it was his heart wishing to rediscover something it had long lost grasp of.
By the time he'd headed out past the outskirts of the village, leaving the lights behind, the darkness of night had fallen easily upon the shore, without relief even from the moon, which was most likely tucked behind the clouds. He padded slowly across the beach and stopped at water's edge, waves brushing against his toes briefly, as if in greeting, before retreating. It was a moment of calm, and it was his life, right here—and before this moment, he'd never quite realized how much he'd missed it.
He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, then opened them as he exhaled and glanced down the coast; there were faintly visible specks of light, flickering like flames and brighter than anything in the pitch black. Now driven by curiosity, Sora started off again, this time at a quicker pace, feet digging harsh imprints in the sand and leaving low clouds of dust in their wake. He began to trace the treeline, then disappeared into it completely as he neared the source of the lights, ducked amidst the cover of the undergrowth before he was able to get a good look at the... fireflies.
He relaxed, then gave a soft laugh under his breath for not figuring that out sooner and straightened, emerging from the trees and walking out to the dirt path that crawled up a shallow slope along the shore. He kept a watchful, fond eye on the flashing pinpoints of light hovering just above the surface of the water ahead, accompanied by the vague feeling of something slowly clicking into place in the back of his head, but he paid it no mind.
He came to an abrupt halt the moment he caught sight of the house.
Or, more accurately, the pile of cracked wood and rubble that dominated the scene, with the other half struggling to remain intact. In the dim ambient light, he could just barely make out the familiar furnishings of the living room, a whole section utterly scorched and crumbled, and the rest torn out and left beyond recognition in the rest of the ruins.
It could have been a storm, it could have been a fire, it could have been vandalism, or a high-powered fight, or any number of causes, but somehow, Sora knew—knew even before he ran up and dropped to his knees, picking up a broken piece of blackened wood and gripping it tightly, eyes clenched shut as he instinctively seeked out any hints of chakra left in the damage—that it was Riku who had done this.
And that realization itself hurt more than it would have if the entire house had been swept away into the sea.
"How..." he began softly, voice rough, fingers loosening and dropping the piece of wood with a muted clatter. His eyes opened, focused on the ground in front of them, next word choked out. "Why?"
He remained still and silent for a long moment, head bowed, as he attempted to overcome a sudden onslaught of thoughts and emotions twisting themselves in a whirlwind within his mind and heart, before slowly standing. Forcing himself to turn away from the house, he instead directed his gaze towards the dock a short distance away, which was thankfully intact, and moved a step forward with a single shaky breath. Slowly, he took another, then another, then abruptly broke into a run back down the slope and across the beach, and was collapsed on the dock before he could quite register what had just happened, face buried in his arms and shoulders shaking.
"Sometimes, don't you wish it was this simple? That we could just stay here, and not have to worry about a thing ever again."
"So let's do it, someday. I'll take you back here and we can live just like that."
"Ha, if they don't catch us first."
"We'll just have to keep running, in that case."
"That wouldn't be so bad. Home's anywhere with you, after all."
"Then I guess home's where we'll always be."
It seemed like hours had passed, as these moments often did, by the time he finally lifted his head and rubbed his face with the back of his hand.
"Come on, Sora," he muttered, throat too sore to be anything above barely audible. "Get over yourself. It's... different now."
He swallowed down the lump in his throat and instead pushed himself over to the edge of the dock, dipping his hands into the water and splashing it on his face in some attempt to calm himself down. It was shockingly cold, and exactly what he needed, and within a few seconds of deep breathing he was fine; drained, but fine. With a short sigh, he moved over to fall back against the creaky wood, arm draped over his forehead as he stared up at the sky. The stars were still hidden, and only silver wisps of the backlit clouds scattered across the expanse of it were left to battle the darkness.
It had been a recon mission (two years ago? it hadn't seemed that long at all) like any other, with the added excitement of heading to the islands; it was something that happened only once every so often, and was definitely one of the team's preferred destinations. Sometime during the investigation, they'd encountered a wizened retired fisherman who had told them the story of the nearby abandoned house, centered around events occurring 11 years previous. After they had pressed the man for details and gone to explore the house itself (in which all the furniture and decor was found dusty, but otherwise eerily untouched, as though still occupied) they had uncovered the clan symbol engraved on top of an old chest—the very same clan symbol adorning the back of Riku's vest in that moment.
Of course, finding such an integral piece to the expansive puzzle that was Riku's past was definitely a bigger deal than anything else they could have accomplished that mission, and it was at Sora's insistence that they stayed the night in that house. Loosely speaking, that was, as Riku had chosen instead to sit out on the dock and watch the water. Sora had joined him not too long afterwards, and they'd stayed to sunrise, switching between companionable silences and short conversations about everything and occasionally nothing, until he had eventually fallen fast asleep against Riku's shoulder. And if his hunch was correct, the fact that as far as anyone knew, their promise of peace—promise of the future, promise of them—had been completely destroyed was the reason Riku had returned to this place and taken his anger and heartbreak out on it.
But, he tried to convince himself, if weakly. It was just a house. It didn't mean anything for them unless he chose to see it that way. He wasn't traitorous, missing, or dead, so it was all a simple misunderstanding, and all he needed to do was find Riku and explain everything.
And maybe, he thought, maybe it was just that simple. Dwelling on how difficult it was going to be certainly wasn't making it any easier. So he'd deal with it when the time came, whatever might happen, but it would be okay. It would, and he'd make sure of it. It was something he'd swear to Riku, to Kairi, to Leon, to all of his friends, to Roxas—and now, to himself.
Sora got to his feet, head turned towards the ocean, and one hand lifted as if in goodbye. The cloud of fireflies rose, like waterfall mist somehow set ablaze, and retreated to the woods.
"Wait for me," he said firmly, voice clear and loud in the silence. "I'll be there soon. You can count on it."
He left to make his way back to the village, just when the skies opened and the rain began to fall.
