Post by thia on Jan 23, 2012 13:17:19 GMT -1
He’d done beautifully so far, I had to admit.
No matter how impossibly outnumbered he was, Sora was far tougher than his delicate build would have hinted at. Perhaps the power lied purely within that strange key-shaped sword he clung to (a “Keyblade” he’d called it once before), or maybe the dreamer I’d grown up with had really morphed into the sort of storybook hero he’d always longed to be. A boy no longer who craved adventures, instead he was a few years shy of being a man who’d seen more than anyone his age should ever have to.
To watch him fight the Heartless was to watch not so much of a battle as it was a mesmerizing dance: the way he would elegantly turn in the air and slice his Keyblade through the breeze, the way he would dive into a roll and emerge running lightly on his feet. Even as his body was taut with concentration, and his sapphire eyes wild with excitement, I had never seen anyone more breathtaking as they fought--it was like watching a majestic lion in the hunt, terrible yet glorious to behold. Far from the clumsy boy who had yet to figure out how to hold a sword, he was a true warrior now… indeed, every boy’s dream of fighting evil with a sword in hand and valor driving every step.
My precious Sora… so brave, so determined. Even now, he had the strongest will of anyone I’d ever known. He was as determined now to destroy those Heartless whatever-the-hells as he’d been to sharpen his skills using that ridiculous wooden sword. The carefree afternoons we’d spent sparring on the sand and building castles on the beach seemed to belong to another era. Yet Sora had the same mentality that good could win over evil, even as the idea seemed more foolish with every day that passed by without a change. But that was his downfall, in a way--he threw his heart and soul into everything, he sought to defend everyone. It made his heart so much more pure and noble, and that much more tempting for those… monsters to rip it from his chest at the first opportunity.
Yet he fought on. Heaven help me, I didn’t understand why, but something drove him to make one more slash, to take another step even as every fiber of his being cried out in protest. More often than not, he only used those strange healing potions when his entire body was a breath away from simply collapsing in exhaustion--even against the Heartless, who bore none of the valor he did, Sora felt as if he should defeat them “fairly”. In the peace of Twilight Town’s inns, the poor boy was often unable to reach the bed before his body finally gave out. Clearly his body was tired from all the battles.
And judging from the shadows permanently etched around his eyes, and how a dullness and strange aging chipped away at the vibrant life that once made his eyes like a bright summer sky…mentally he also tired of so much death, so much unrest.
He was far stronger than I could ever be. At least he fought it, he resisted it--I had welcomed and even craved the darkness, as if it were an elixir to my jealous and angry heart. I had just surrendered without a fight, dammit!
Even now, I did nothing. I mused over him, watching him as some debased guardian angel as he battle through countless days and nights. But I was loathe to have him see me in such a… for God’s sake, it would drive the poor boy into insanity to see a man he thought he’d seen die. Or whatever it was Ansem had done when his body had been shattered by Kingdom Hearts’ light… was he even good enough to deserve death as his escape?
Either way, I had no desire for him to see what horrific transformation my body had gone through. Sure, in my heart I was his best friend Riku, but how the hell was he to know that? I bore Ansem’s richly tanned skin, his cat-like eyes of amber, yet cold and sharp like a chip of ice. The only similarity Ansem and I had shared was mercury-hued hair that was on the longer side, though now mine was as long as his, trailing to between my shoulder blades. I even bore the man’s hateful voice, a deep bass that resonated with the hatred and wickedness that festered in his heart… that is, if he’d ever had one at all.
At one point he’d seemed strangely beautiful to me, the way his well-muscled body was the warm color of honey and how it had seemed to emanate strength like heat from a fire. He radiated power, which in my broken state I’d hungered after like a drunk craved his liquid vice. And his voice… he seemed wise, trustworthy, and it was those seductive words that had convinced me, in all the foolishness of my fifteen years, to allow him to possess me.
Shuddering as my thoughts almost took over me, I refused to let those horrible memories drown me in regret yet again. The point was, I was alive now, and I was me. I bore his body, but I shared nothing more with him anymore. I was here with a purpose, and that was to protect Sora, not to drown in memory and self-pity.
I had promised to guard the boy--but was he truly more of a boy than I was?--however I could without him seeing me like this. Even if that simply meant for me to whisper, “Get up, Sora!” in hiding, I had sworn the moment that I was myself again that I would do everything and anything to keep him alive. Clichéd as the phrase was, he truly was the only hope I had that the Heartless could somehow be vanquished.
Donald, Goofy, Leon, Cloud, Yuffie… what had I truly expected them to do?
Once those jolly fucking animals had found their king, Sora’s use was no longer there, and so they effectively had abandoned him. Sure, Sora had outwardly smiled that open, beaming smile of his and said, “I can handle ‘em myself!” But he was a skilled actor, the way he had managed to look so carefree and innocent even as heartbreak and terror had already seeped into his heart. He had learned to really fight when he was with them, for he had learned how to fight for someone other than himself. Though the other two companions had been a minimal assistance to him in actual battle, Donald’s Cure spells and Goofy’s copious use of Potions had saved him more times than I could count. For that I felt some sort of gratitude, keeping him alive when I did not, but the fact that they had kept him alive only so he could pave the path to their precious king--and for nothing else--made me sick to my stomach with disgust. He had counted them as friends, and the fact that he realized he had been deluding himself had started the slow process that gave his eyes that dull, almost lifeless glaze--the steady downward spiral of depression.
And what had I really thought anyone in Hollow Bastion would do to help Sora? He had been nothing more than a visitor to them that they had enlisted to save their precious world. Again, Sora had toyed with the idea that they treasured him and were truly friends of his who cared for his safety… but if Sora had one fault, it was that he opened his heart too easily. He hoped, he dreamed, and in due course he would his heart get crushed without allowing any grudges attempt to soothe his heartbreak.
Physically he was strong and almost invincible, but his heart was broken in so many places. He was an emotional wreck, and with every day, I could sense his will to fight back waver and, at times, disappear. The fact that he thought he had lost everyone… it made him wish at times to simply let the Heartless take his battered heart and die. I could tell from how his angelic features would twist with agony and indecision, and just for a moment, his Keyblade would hesitate to make another strike. It was at these times I longed to talk to him, to dissipate the clouds of depression that constantly hovered around him, but that would only make matters worse. Either way, I was powerless to do anything but watch my best friend suffer.
…And had I allowed myself to admit to it sooner, I would have seen that my feelings were far stronger than mere friendship. Friendship waned through time and distance, and if anything, those two factors had only served the strengthen those feelings I had for Sora. I loved him, as impossible and confusing as those feelings were. I loved him in all the ways I have ever loved anyone--he was lover, brother, friend. When I dreamt--on the rare occasion that I felt he was safe enough so I could sleep briefly--I saw the old Sora I had known, his cinnamon-brown hair in endearing disarray and his eyes glinting like sapphires and alight with the fire of life that had once burned so strongly in him. He would giggle mischievously and sprint down the sand, daring me to chase him. I would awaken, and upon finding the present Sora laying on the dirty floorboards of an inn, I could almost believe that some part of his past self lingered somewhere, the one that laced himself unknowingly into my heartstrings with an indelible bond.
This perhaps is why I loved to watch him sleep; in sleep he knew no pain or sadness, and his features relaxed into a peaceful, lazy smile as, for a brief few hours, the only things that could harm him were the phantoms of a nightmare. Here I knew the sand-covered teenager who had wanted to explore the world and beyond, not the blood-covered fighter who struggled between survival instinct and the desire to die.
Yet even as I watched him now, I saw that he had stopped swinging his weapon, and only stood there. His arms hung limply at his sides, the Keyblade slipping from his fingers and onto the grass with a soft thud. Sora stared ahead, his eyes focusing onto nothing but distorted with an agony I had never seen in those azure orbs before. His mouth was twisted into what looked like a silent moan of pain, though from my distance I couldn’t be sure.
Why is he just standing there? They’ll kill him!
I crept closer to him without being seen, and with a cold rush of terror saw that he was surrounded by Heartless, these ones standing upright like a human and having two long--were they antennae?--sprouting from their heads. Their glowing yellow eyes seemed more sinister than those of any of Heartless I had ever seen, seemed more intelligent. I heard low hiss, like that of a snake, sputtering and inconsistent, coming from the tallest of the group. At first I thought it was an angry sound, but with a shock I realized it was speaking. It had a deep, chilling voice that would hiss slightly at the “s” sounds, drawing out the words and making them somehow more entrancing to listen to.
It took me another moment to realize it spoke to Sora.
“Useless, isn’t it? Who is it you fight for, hmm?” he taunted quietly. “Kairi, Donald, Goofy, Cloud, Yuffie, Leon, Cid, Aerith… none of them seem to care whether or not you die. How easily they were willing to abandon you, Sora. You have no family, no friends, no allies… nothing. Even now, I can see in your eyes that you realize this. You want to die. You don’t want to be a savior, do you?”
I didn’t think at first that Sora was listening, but when I took into account his pained expression, I realized that he indeed was. This Heartless creature knew exactly the right words to say to slowly break him down, and it was definitely working. Most likely unaware of what he did, Sora’s hand had come to rest over the spot where his heart lay. It might have been a physical attempt to soothe a breaking heart, or his body’s subconscious way to protect it. Either way, it ignited the hunger of the Heartless, for the leader’s eyes were fixated on that vulnerable spot on his chest. I could see the lust in its golden eyes.
“We can kill you quickly, painlessly. You won’t feel a thing. Riku died just the same way, you know. Hardly realized he was dying.”
I never dreamt my name would spark any reaction in Sora, but I saw how his features, already distorted in pain, grew an even more tortured expression. I felt anger blaze in my heart at the lie, but my anguish that he believed it override the fury. He took a stumbling step backward, a shaking whisper of “no” escaping his now trembling lips.
“You never knew this?” the Heartless asked, clearly enjoying the pain he was inflicting on Sora. “I’m assuming you must have been fighting for him, hoping you’d save him… ahhh, I can tell that it was. Am I mistaken? Have you been fighting years to save a friend who betrayed you?” Sora said nothing in reply, but the way his eyes flitted to the ground spoke volumes.
So he had been going through so much… for me? I couldn’t get my head around it, the fact that I had been the reason he would endure so much for so long. It was unthinkable, impossible! I had betrayed him, for God’s sake! As much as the memory made bile rise in my throat, the fact was that I had done such a thing to him. Why, then, why did he still push himself for someone like myself?
“I-I still… I f-forgave… I thought…” I heard him stammer, his normally strong voice soft and stumbling.
“You’re too late to save him, Sora. You need to accept that you have failed each and every one of your friends, and the only one who cared about you has long since died. What do you have left, then?”
He gazed at the Heartless for the longest time, his eyes showing a decision being made within his mind that, while I could not obviously see it, knew it was a horrendous one by the way the Heartless snickered in what I thought sounded like a horribly triumphant way.
“Death is far nobler than fighting a lost cause. Just tell me ‘I have nothing’ and I’ll know you’ve had enough of this,” the Heartless replied, and it sounded almost gentle, the way he gave Sora the choice.
Sora looked at the ground more intently, and said with what I could tell was a great deal of difficulty, “I’ve fought for those I’ve long since lost. I’ve fought for the one person I knew I had lost, and he’s gone. I have no home, no family, no friends, no allies, no peace, no happiness, no purpose, no will to live. I… truly have nothing.”
With that, he rested his arms to his sides, closing his eyes. Preparing himself to die without so much as a fight anymore.
“SORA, NO!” I cried out, not caring anymore for my vanity. He couldn’t do this to me! I’d tried too long to keep him alive!
But I was too late. I saw the Heartless all jump to his vulnerable body, overpowering him before he could even have the thought to resist. His entire body was encased in shadow, and I heard the sickening sound of breaking bones, cries of pain, and--I could have sworn--the quiet cackle of one of them amongst the throng of Heartless. Yet even as he was in obvious pain--I tried not to add if he’s still alive--I saw no signs of protest on his part. Even though he obviously suffered, did he still wish for death so dearly that he was willing to suffer this? The slow mangling and torture of his body before death kindly gave him release?
It was too much. If he refused to fight back, I would.
Sweeping my hands in a circular motion, I incinerated the monsters as I cast a mild Fire spell--it wouldn’t be strong enough to harm Sora, who was ironically safe within the wall of Heartless destroying him--but it was sure enough to turn those little bastards to ash. I heard high-pitched, keening wails of agony as I saw shadows twist and curl, their forms becoming smaller in the flames until, one by one, they dissolved into nothingness. I saw, as though in slow motion, his petite form falling to the ground, relinquished from the Heartless’ hold on him. His body landed on the ground, and remained eerily still as the moments stretched on.
I rushed over to Sora’s battered and broken form, praying he was still alive and not beyond my help. I cared no longer if he saw myself or if he saw Ansem… I had to save him. I had promised myself I would, yet even as I had protected him from as many Heartless as I had been able to without him knowing, I had been unable to protect him from the one thing that had ultimately done this to him: himself.
“Sora, wake up,” I pleaded with him softly, not sure he even heard me. His entire body was covered in deep gashes and blooming bruises, and from the awkward angle of his arm as I cradled him against me, I could only assume it had been badly sprained or broken. For a moment I felt a chill of terror that his neck was broken from the way his head was turned to the side, but it was simply the way that I held him. His lips were rather pale, as was the rest of his face, and open not in a cry of pain as I would have expected, but rather as though slack with sleep--just as surprisingly peaceful as the rest of his beautiful features were.
Wiping away a trickle of blood that was creeping down his cheek, I gently traced the curve of his jawline and pleaded again softly, “Sora, please, wake up for me. It’s Riku. I have Ansem’s body, I have his voice… but please, you have to believe me. I’ve been watching over you… doing nothing, but praying and making sure you were alive. Please, Sora… breathe, blink, anything
Still he did nothing. His broken form was as still as any statue, but far more heartbreaking and stunning. I thought I heard a whisper-soft sigh, but then again it could have been hope mingling with imagination. My brave savior, my friend, my… everything. He couldn’t be gone… it just wasn’t possible. How could time still press on, the world still exist when the only one who mattered to me wasn’t there? It was madness to think that the world could exist without Sora… or at least, the only world that mattered.
Fighting back the tears that stung my eyes, I bent my head down gingerly, pressing my lips lightly to his in as gentle a kiss as I could manage. His lips felt cold against mine, but were soft and seemed loving even as he didn’t respond back. For a moment, I could fooled myself that I was merely sneaking a touch from those lips while he slumered… but one shouldn’t look so helpless and broken in sleep. I could taste salt in the kiss, and it took me a moment to realize that I was tasting the traitorous tears that had escaped.
“R-Riku…” I heard very softly, so quietly that at first I imagined I heard the wind twist around the sound of my name. But I‘d felt his lips move ever so slightly, felt warm, moist breath on my lips. Could he possibly…?
“Sora?” I asked tentatively, hardly allowing myself to hope.
“Why are you crying?” I heard Sora whisper. His voice was almost too soft for me to hear, and it sounded so weak, as if the very words caused him a great deal of physical exertion. But it was Sora’s sweet voice, just as I remembered it. With the passage of time, it had taken on a peculiar deepness and resonance that made it subtly seductive even in a faint whisper.
I felt a flame of joy and relief set fire to my entire being, and without thinking I closed my arms around his smaller frame, embracing him and not caring that in his eyes, he was embraced by the man who had tried so many times to destroy him. But he didn’t seem to mind--whether he was simply too weak to fight against me, I didn’t know, but I didn’t care to know either.
“It’s really you, isn’t it?” Sora asked me, his eyes half-lidded with weariness, but still having a clarity that told me that he knew he wasn’t dreaming.
“Yes… can you believe it?” I replied, laughing bitterly. “The face of a foe, but the heart of a friend. Unfortunately, I was expecting all this time that if I ever showed myself to you, I’d frighten or repulse you. I’ve been watching for a long time, you know. Too cowardly to do much more than cheer you on from the sidelines, but praying that every step wasn’t your last.”
Sora gazed up at me for what felt like an eternity, studying my face with those crystalline blue orbs. It must have looked strange, seeing the normally cold, amber eyes of his enemy looking upon him with nothing but warmth and relief. How peculiar it must have felt to have Ansem’s hands, once so eager to destroy him, gently massaging his forehead and cradling him. I could hardly blame him for gazing at me the way he was. His hand trembled with the effort as he put his palm to my cheek, his fingers pressing ever so slightly. There was no malice in his touch, only the need for him to feel with his hands the curiosity before him. His fingertips explored the honey-toned skin of my face, a small smile slowing spreading on his lips.
“Idiot,” he murmured wearily without any bite to his words, giving my cheek a gentle pinch. “I’ve been fighting for you, plain and simple. You honestly thought something like this”--he looked over my body indifferently--“would do anything? So you look like Ansem… so what? You’re not him, so what’s the problem?”
Just like that. Without any hint of disgust or fear, he accepted me in this hateful form, no questions asked. He didn’t ask me why I looked the way I did, what horrible things I must have done to deserve such a cruel twist of fate, or even wonder if I was still possessed by Ansem, and merely put on a façade before ripping his pure young heart from his chest. Heaven help me, I couldn’t grasp how I even deserved it, but after everything I had put the poor boy through… he trusted me. I had betrayed him, mocked him, nearly destroyed him… and I couldn’t even imagine how many times I must have given him despair. I had done everything that should have severed our friendship, as much as I hated to say it. He should have spit in my face with hatred, and I could have easily accepted it--I deserved nothing less. But forgiveness, tenderness, friendship, acceptance… I didn’t deserve or expect that.
“Why… why do you forgive me so easily? I’ve done such horrible things to you, Sora,” I pleaded with him. It was almost masochistic what I was doing--asking him to despise me--but I don’t know if I could tolerate his blind forgiveness any better. I… I didn’t deserve it. I couldn’t deserve it… I’d done such horrible things.
To my surprised, Sora said nothing, but gave me such a cutely childish scowl that, in spite of myself, I felt a smile emerging beneath the self-hatred. It was so reminiscent of Sora to have a frown like that. I felt his soft hands on either side of my face, and to my utter shock, I felt him pull my face closer to his. I felt a rush of warmth flood every sinew and fiber of my body as ours lips made air-light contact, like the flutter of butterfly wings or caress of the wind. I felt any and all feeling leave my knees as I felt his lips moving against mine, the touch innocent enough but nevertheless causing my breath to catch in my throat. Eagerly I returned his kiss, lacing my fingers within his and not caring of the meaning behind his actions. A sigh escaped those plush, berry lips, and I felt his eyelashes flutter against my cheek as he shut his eyes, just as I had.
Oh, it was heaven to kiss him… an ecstasy that no writer can fully describe with mere words covered in frilly description. I felt as though every nerve in my body was focused on my mouth, reveling in the ambrosial taste of his mouth, the fire that burned through my veins. If I had imagined the finest reward for finding Sora, for finally being able to be with him momentarily after all the time I’d spent following secretly… I couldn’t have fathomed it being anything like this. Whatever words Sora lacked the strength to fully say in his broken state, he’d said completely with such a simple but healing action: I love you; all is forgiven.
Reluctantly, and far too soon, it seemed, I felt him gently breaking away from me. I met his gaze, and couldn’t help but smile as he tried to look at my entire face at once. His sapphire eyes crossed in a way that would have looked foolish on anyone else, but only made him even more sweet and endearing in my eyes. The rose-petal blush that had colored his cheeks said that he’d enjoyed it as much as I had… though not without a bit of confusion in his eyes: was he wondering, like myself, if it was wrong to enjoy kissing your best friend like that? To want to? To love them?
“Do you want me to say ‘I love you’ or did that explain it clear enough?” Sora asked, a small laugh attempting to come out, but I could tell that he was nervous that… well, did he truly expect that his feelings were unrequited?
“You don’t have to, but it’s nice to hear it,” I said with a smirk. “I never imagined you would feel the same… so I’m still trying to convince myself this all isn’t a dream. Is it, Sora?”
“Would you like me to prove it?” Sora replied with a mischievous grin, the one I had seen countless times when he was about to do something he knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t even give me a chance to answer--pulling himself up, with quite some effort, he claimed my lips with his with my body reacting with the same felicity as the first time. However, to my utter shock, I felt his lips twist into an even bigger smile before he took my bottom lip and gave it a little bite before sucking on it briefly, gently, to ease any pain. I felt the heat rise to my face at such an unexpected--but completely enjoyable--“answer”.
“I do love you,” he said, his lips whispering against my cheek, his tone more serious than I had ever heard it, the almost husky whisper more alluring than a siren’s call. Continuing with his voice growing a bit stronger than the usual whisper, “I always have… I just wish I hadn’t waited so long to get the guts to admit to it. You mean more to me than anyone else-- anything else. That’s why I’ve fought this long. I’ve fought for when I’d meet you again and finally be able to tell you everything. I hope you can forgive me for being so foolish and... well, so selfish.”
I met his eyes hesitantly, to see if I was merely deluding myself, that Sora could possibly think he needed forgiveness from myself. I saw that there was nothing but warmth and certainty in his eyes as the Caribbean green met the azure blue. In some ways, the intensity of his gaze seemed even more intimate than the kissed we’d just shared. I could feel his hot breath on my skin, his breathing a bit heavier and quicker than normal. His thumb lightly stroked the smooth skin along the knuckle of my thumb, and I could see how subconsciously his lips parted a bit as he wordlessly looked at me in a way that made it impossible for me to avert my eyes.
“There’s nothing I need to forgive, Sora,” I said incredulously.
A huge smile lit up his face, the one that was so reminiscent of the Sora of years past--carefree, innocent, and endlessly gleeful… the angelic Sora with the trust of a child but the uncanny insight that rivaled an adult’s.
Staring at the sky for a few moments, his eyes thoughtful, Sora reached out his hand towards it, as though hoping to grasp the expanse of blue and cotton clouds within his fingers.
When he spoke again, it was not speaking so much as singing. As he sang, he closed his eyes, his expression peaceful as his voice flowed from his lips like water down a stream. His song was soft, quiet, hopeful… it wasn’t strong and powerful, but instead matched the tranquil spirit who sang the words. It carried over the wind that had picked up some autumnal leaves on the ground, almost as though the breeze wanted to carry his voice over the buildings of Twilight Town and into the sky itself.
“When I remember long ago, the future was forever shining. Below the beautiful blue sky, we were only frightened a little…”
No matter how impossibly outnumbered he was, Sora was far tougher than his delicate build would have hinted at. Perhaps the power lied purely within that strange key-shaped sword he clung to (a “Keyblade” he’d called it once before), or maybe the dreamer I’d grown up with had really morphed into the sort of storybook hero he’d always longed to be. A boy no longer who craved adventures, instead he was a few years shy of being a man who’d seen more than anyone his age should ever have to.
To watch him fight the Heartless was to watch not so much of a battle as it was a mesmerizing dance: the way he would elegantly turn in the air and slice his Keyblade through the breeze, the way he would dive into a roll and emerge running lightly on his feet. Even as his body was taut with concentration, and his sapphire eyes wild with excitement, I had never seen anyone more breathtaking as they fought--it was like watching a majestic lion in the hunt, terrible yet glorious to behold. Far from the clumsy boy who had yet to figure out how to hold a sword, he was a true warrior now… indeed, every boy’s dream of fighting evil with a sword in hand and valor driving every step.
My precious Sora… so brave, so determined. Even now, he had the strongest will of anyone I’d ever known. He was as determined now to destroy those Heartless whatever-the-hells as he’d been to sharpen his skills using that ridiculous wooden sword. The carefree afternoons we’d spent sparring on the sand and building castles on the beach seemed to belong to another era. Yet Sora had the same mentality that good could win over evil, even as the idea seemed more foolish with every day that passed by without a change. But that was his downfall, in a way--he threw his heart and soul into everything, he sought to defend everyone. It made his heart so much more pure and noble, and that much more tempting for those… monsters to rip it from his chest at the first opportunity.
Yet he fought on. Heaven help me, I didn’t understand why, but something drove him to make one more slash, to take another step even as every fiber of his being cried out in protest. More often than not, he only used those strange healing potions when his entire body was a breath away from simply collapsing in exhaustion--even against the Heartless, who bore none of the valor he did, Sora felt as if he should defeat them “fairly”. In the peace of Twilight Town’s inns, the poor boy was often unable to reach the bed before his body finally gave out. Clearly his body was tired from all the battles.
And judging from the shadows permanently etched around his eyes, and how a dullness and strange aging chipped away at the vibrant life that once made his eyes like a bright summer sky…mentally he also tired of so much death, so much unrest.
He was far stronger than I could ever be. At least he fought it, he resisted it--I had welcomed and even craved the darkness, as if it were an elixir to my jealous and angry heart. I had just surrendered without a fight, dammit!
Even now, I did nothing. I mused over him, watching him as some debased guardian angel as he battle through countless days and nights. But I was loathe to have him see me in such a… for God’s sake, it would drive the poor boy into insanity to see a man he thought he’d seen die. Or whatever it was Ansem had done when his body had been shattered by Kingdom Hearts’ light… was he even good enough to deserve death as his escape?
Either way, I had no desire for him to see what horrific transformation my body had gone through. Sure, in my heart I was his best friend Riku, but how the hell was he to know that? I bore Ansem’s richly tanned skin, his cat-like eyes of amber, yet cold and sharp like a chip of ice. The only similarity Ansem and I had shared was mercury-hued hair that was on the longer side, though now mine was as long as his, trailing to between my shoulder blades. I even bore the man’s hateful voice, a deep bass that resonated with the hatred and wickedness that festered in his heart… that is, if he’d ever had one at all.
At one point he’d seemed strangely beautiful to me, the way his well-muscled body was the warm color of honey and how it had seemed to emanate strength like heat from a fire. He radiated power, which in my broken state I’d hungered after like a drunk craved his liquid vice. And his voice… he seemed wise, trustworthy, and it was those seductive words that had convinced me, in all the foolishness of my fifteen years, to allow him to possess me.
Shuddering as my thoughts almost took over me, I refused to let those horrible memories drown me in regret yet again. The point was, I was alive now, and I was me. I bore his body, but I shared nothing more with him anymore. I was here with a purpose, and that was to protect Sora, not to drown in memory and self-pity.
I had promised to guard the boy--but was he truly more of a boy than I was?--however I could without him seeing me like this. Even if that simply meant for me to whisper, “Get up, Sora!” in hiding, I had sworn the moment that I was myself again that I would do everything and anything to keep him alive. Clichéd as the phrase was, he truly was the only hope I had that the Heartless could somehow be vanquished.
Donald, Goofy, Leon, Cloud, Yuffie… what had I truly expected them to do?
Once those jolly fucking animals had found their king, Sora’s use was no longer there, and so they effectively had abandoned him. Sure, Sora had outwardly smiled that open, beaming smile of his and said, “I can handle ‘em myself!” But he was a skilled actor, the way he had managed to look so carefree and innocent even as heartbreak and terror had already seeped into his heart. He had learned to really fight when he was with them, for he had learned how to fight for someone other than himself. Though the other two companions had been a minimal assistance to him in actual battle, Donald’s Cure spells and Goofy’s copious use of Potions had saved him more times than I could count. For that I felt some sort of gratitude, keeping him alive when I did not, but the fact that they had kept him alive only so he could pave the path to their precious king--and for nothing else--made me sick to my stomach with disgust. He had counted them as friends, and the fact that he realized he had been deluding himself had started the slow process that gave his eyes that dull, almost lifeless glaze--the steady downward spiral of depression.
And what had I really thought anyone in Hollow Bastion would do to help Sora? He had been nothing more than a visitor to them that they had enlisted to save their precious world. Again, Sora had toyed with the idea that they treasured him and were truly friends of his who cared for his safety… but if Sora had one fault, it was that he opened his heart too easily. He hoped, he dreamed, and in due course he would his heart get crushed without allowing any grudges attempt to soothe his heartbreak.
Physically he was strong and almost invincible, but his heart was broken in so many places. He was an emotional wreck, and with every day, I could sense his will to fight back waver and, at times, disappear. The fact that he thought he had lost everyone… it made him wish at times to simply let the Heartless take his battered heart and die. I could tell from how his angelic features would twist with agony and indecision, and just for a moment, his Keyblade would hesitate to make another strike. It was at these times I longed to talk to him, to dissipate the clouds of depression that constantly hovered around him, but that would only make matters worse. Either way, I was powerless to do anything but watch my best friend suffer.
…And had I allowed myself to admit to it sooner, I would have seen that my feelings were far stronger than mere friendship. Friendship waned through time and distance, and if anything, those two factors had only served the strengthen those feelings I had for Sora. I loved him, as impossible and confusing as those feelings were. I loved him in all the ways I have ever loved anyone--he was lover, brother, friend. When I dreamt--on the rare occasion that I felt he was safe enough so I could sleep briefly--I saw the old Sora I had known, his cinnamon-brown hair in endearing disarray and his eyes glinting like sapphires and alight with the fire of life that had once burned so strongly in him. He would giggle mischievously and sprint down the sand, daring me to chase him. I would awaken, and upon finding the present Sora laying on the dirty floorboards of an inn, I could almost believe that some part of his past self lingered somewhere, the one that laced himself unknowingly into my heartstrings with an indelible bond.
This perhaps is why I loved to watch him sleep; in sleep he knew no pain or sadness, and his features relaxed into a peaceful, lazy smile as, for a brief few hours, the only things that could harm him were the phantoms of a nightmare. Here I knew the sand-covered teenager who had wanted to explore the world and beyond, not the blood-covered fighter who struggled between survival instinct and the desire to die.
Yet even as I watched him now, I saw that he had stopped swinging his weapon, and only stood there. His arms hung limply at his sides, the Keyblade slipping from his fingers and onto the grass with a soft thud. Sora stared ahead, his eyes focusing onto nothing but distorted with an agony I had never seen in those azure orbs before. His mouth was twisted into what looked like a silent moan of pain, though from my distance I couldn’t be sure.
Why is he just standing there? They’ll kill him!
I crept closer to him without being seen, and with a cold rush of terror saw that he was surrounded by Heartless, these ones standing upright like a human and having two long--were they antennae?--sprouting from their heads. Their glowing yellow eyes seemed more sinister than those of any of Heartless I had ever seen, seemed more intelligent. I heard low hiss, like that of a snake, sputtering and inconsistent, coming from the tallest of the group. At first I thought it was an angry sound, but with a shock I realized it was speaking. It had a deep, chilling voice that would hiss slightly at the “s” sounds, drawing out the words and making them somehow more entrancing to listen to.
It took me another moment to realize it spoke to Sora.
“Useless, isn’t it? Who is it you fight for, hmm?” he taunted quietly. “Kairi, Donald, Goofy, Cloud, Yuffie, Leon, Cid, Aerith… none of them seem to care whether or not you die. How easily they were willing to abandon you, Sora. You have no family, no friends, no allies… nothing. Even now, I can see in your eyes that you realize this. You want to die. You don’t want to be a savior, do you?”
I didn’t think at first that Sora was listening, but when I took into account his pained expression, I realized that he indeed was. This Heartless creature knew exactly the right words to say to slowly break him down, and it was definitely working. Most likely unaware of what he did, Sora’s hand had come to rest over the spot where his heart lay. It might have been a physical attempt to soothe a breaking heart, or his body’s subconscious way to protect it. Either way, it ignited the hunger of the Heartless, for the leader’s eyes were fixated on that vulnerable spot on his chest. I could see the lust in its golden eyes.
“We can kill you quickly, painlessly. You won’t feel a thing. Riku died just the same way, you know. Hardly realized he was dying.”
I never dreamt my name would spark any reaction in Sora, but I saw how his features, already distorted in pain, grew an even more tortured expression. I felt anger blaze in my heart at the lie, but my anguish that he believed it override the fury. He took a stumbling step backward, a shaking whisper of “no” escaping his now trembling lips.
“You never knew this?” the Heartless asked, clearly enjoying the pain he was inflicting on Sora. “I’m assuming you must have been fighting for him, hoping you’d save him… ahhh, I can tell that it was. Am I mistaken? Have you been fighting years to save a friend who betrayed you?” Sora said nothing in reply, but the way his eyes flitted to the ground spoke volumes.
So he had been going through so much… for me? I couldn’t get my head around it, the fact that I had been the reason he would endure so much for so long. It was unthinkable, impossible! I had betrayed him, for God’s sake! As much as the memory made bile rise in my throat, the fact was that I had done such a thing to him. Why, then, why did he still push himself for someone like myself?
“I-I still… I f-forgave… I thought…” I heard him stammer, his normally strong voice soft and stumbling.
“You’re too late to save him, Sora. You need to accept that you have failed each and every one of your friends, and the only one who cared about you has long since died. What do you have left, then?”
He gazed at the Heartless for the longest time, his eyes showing a decision being made within his mind that, while I could not obviously see it, knew it was a horrendous one by the way the Heartless snickered in what I thought sounded like a horribly triumphant way.
“Death is far nobler than fighting a lost cause. Just tell me ‘I have nothing’ and I’ll know you’ve had enough of this,” the Heartless replied, and it sounded almost gentle, the way he gave Sora the choice.
Sora looked at the ground more intently, and said with what I could tell was a great deal of difficulty, “I’ve fought for those I’ve long since lost. I’ve fought for the one person I knew I had lost, and he’s gone. I have no home, no family, no friends, no allies, no peace, no happiness, no purpose, no will to live. I… truly have nothing.”
With that, he rested his arms to his sides, closing his eyes. Preparing himself to die without so much as a fight anymore.
“SORA, NO!” I cried out, not caring anymore for my vanity. He couldn’t do this to me! I’d tried too long to keep him alive!
But I was too late. I saw the Heartless all jump to his vulnerable body, overpowering him before he could even have the thought to resist. His entire body was encased in shadow, and I heard the sickening sound of breaking bones, cries of pain, and--I could have sworn--the quiet cackle of one of them amongst the throng of Heartless. Yet even as he was in obvious pain--I tried not to add if he’s still alive--I saw no signs of protest on his part. Even though he obviously suffered, did he still wish for death so dearly that he was willing to suffer this? The slow mangling and torture of his body before death kindly gave him release?
It was too much. If he refused to fight back, I would.
Sweeping my hands in a circular motion, I incinerated the monsters as I cast a mild Fire spell--it wouldn’t be strong enough to harm Sora, who was ironically safe within the wall of Heartless destroying him--but it was sure enough to turn those little bastards to ash. I heard high-pitched, keening wails of agony as I saw shadows twist and curl, their forms becoming smaller in the flames until, one by one, they dissolved into nothingness. I saw, as though in slow motion, his petite form falling to the ground, relinquished from the Heartless’ hold on him. His body landed on the ground, and remained eerily still as the moments stretched on.
I rushed over to Sora’s battered and broken form, praying he was still alive and not beyond my help. I cared no longer if he saw myself or if he saw Ansem… I had to save him. I had promised myself I would, yet even as I had protected him from as many Heartless as I had been able to without him knowing, I had been unable to protect him from the one thing that had ultimately done this to him: himself.
“Sora, wake up,” I pleaded with him softly, not sure he even heard me. His entire body was covered in deep gashes and blooming bruises, and from the awkward angle of his arm as I cradled him against me, I could only assume it had been badly sprained or broken. For a moment I felt a chill of terror that his neck was broken from the way his head was turned to the side, but it was simply the way that I held him. His lips were rather pale, as was the rest of his face, and open not in a cry of pain as I would have expected, but rather as though slack with sleep--just as surprisingly peaceful as the rest of his beautiful features were.
Wiping away a trickle of blood that was creeping down his cheek, I gently traced the curve of his jawline and pleaded again softly, “Sora, please, wake up for me. It’s Riku. I have Ansem’s body, I have his voice… but please, you have to believe me. I’ve been watching over you… doing nothing, but praying and making sure you were alive. Please, Sora… breathe, blink, anything
Still he did nothing. His broken form was as still as any statue, but far more heartbreaking and stunning. I thought I heard a whisper-soft sigh, but then again it could have been hope mingling with imagination. My brave savior, my friend, my… everything. He couldn’t be gone… it just wasn’t possible. How could time still press on, the world still exist when the only one who mattered to me wasn’t there? It was madness to think that the world could exist without Sora… or at least, the only world that mattered.
Fighting back the tears that stung my eyes, I bent my head down gingerly, pressing my lips lightly to his in as gentle a kiss as I could manage. His lips felt cold against mine, but were soft and seemed loving even as he didn’t respond back. For a moment, I could fooled myself that I was merely sneaking a touch from those lips while he slumered… but one shouldn’t look so helpless and broken in sleep. I could taste salt in the kiss, and it took me a moment to realize that I was tasting the traitorous tears that had escaped.
“R-Riku…” I heard very softly, so quietly that at first I imagined I heard the wind twist around the sound of my name. But I‘d felt his lips move ever so slightly, felt warm, moist breath on my lips. Could he possibly…?
“Sora?” I asked tentatively, hardly allowing myself to hope.
“Why are you crying?” I heard Sora whisper. His voice was almost too soft for me to hear, and it sounded so weak, as if the very words caused him a great deal of physical exertion. But it was Sora’s sweet voice, just as I remembered it. With the passage of time, it had taken on a peculiar deepness and resonance that made it subtly seductive even in a faint whisper.
I felt a flame of joy and relief set fire to my entire being, and without thinking I closed my arms around his smaller frame, embracing him and not caring that in his eyes, he was embraced by the man who had tried so many times to destroy him. But he didn’t seem to mind--whether he was simply too weak to fight against me, I didn’t know, but I didn’t care to know either.
“It’s really you, isn’t it?” Sora asked me, his eyes half-lidded with weariness, but still having a clarity that told me that he knew he wasn’t dreaming.
“Yes… can you believe it?” I replied, laughing bitterly. “The face of a foe, but the heart of a friend. Unfortunately, I was expecting all this time that if I ever showed myself to you, I’d frighten or repulse you. I’ve been watching for a long time, you know. Too cowardly to do much more than cheer you on from the sidelines, but praying that every step wasn’t your last.”
Sora gazed up at me for what felt like an eternity, studying my face with those crystalline blue orbs. It must have looked strange, seeing the normally cold, amber eyes of his enemy looking upon him with nothing but warmth and relief. How peculiar it must have felt to have Ansem’s hands, once so eager to destroy him, gently massaging his forehead and cradling him. I could hardly blame him for gazing at me the way he was. His hand trembled with the effort as he put his palm to my cheek, his fingers pressing ever so slightly. There was no malice in his touch, only the need for him to feel with his hands the curiosity before him. His fingertips explored the honey-toned skin of my face, a small smile slowing spreading on his lips.
“Idiot,” he murmured wearily without any bite to his words, giving my cheek a gentle pinch. “I’ve been fighting for you, plain and simple. You honestly thought something like this”--he looked over my body indifferently--“would do anything? So you look like Ansem… so what? You’re not him, so what’s the problem?”
Just like that. Without any hint of disgust or fear, he accepted me in this hateful form, no questions asked. He didn’t ask me why I looked the way I did, what horrible things I must have done to deserve such a cruel twist of fate, or even wonder if I was still possessed by Ansem, and merely put on a façade before ripping his pure young heart from his chest. Heaven help me, I couldn’t grasp how I even deserved it, but after everything I had put the poor boy through… he trusted me. I had betrayed him, mocked him, nearly destroyed him… and I couldn’t even imagine how many times I must have given him despair. I had done everything that should have severed our friendship, as much as I hated to say it. He should have spit in my face with hatred, and I could have easily accepted it--I deserved nothing less. But forgiveness, tenderness, friendship, acceptance… I didn’t deserve or expect that.
“Why… why do you forgive me so easily? I’ve done such horrible things to you, Sora,” I pleaded with him. It was almost masochistic what I was doing--asking him to despise me--but I don’t know if I could tolerate his blind forgiveness any better. I… I didn’t deserve it. I couldn’t deserve it… I’d done such horrible things.
To my surprised, Sora said nothing, but gave me such a cutely childish scowl that, in spite of myself, I felt a smile emerging beneath the self-hatred. It was so reminiscent of Sora to have a frown like that. I felt his soft hands on either side of my face, and to my utter shock, I felt him pull my face closer to his. I felt a rush of warmth flood every sinew and fiber of my body as ours lips made air-light contact, like the flutter of butterfly wings or caress of the wind. I felt any and all feeling leave my knees as I felt his lips moving against mine, the touch innocent enough but nevertheless causing my breath to catch in my throat. Eagerly I returned his kiss, lacing my fingers within his and not caring of the meaning behind his actions. A sigh escaped those plush, berry lips, and I felt his eyelashes flutter against my cheek as he shut his eyes, just as I had.
Oh, it was heaven to kiss him… an ecstasy that no writer can fully describe with mere words covered in frilly description. I felt as though every nerve in my body was focused on my mouth, reveling in the ambrosial taste of his mouth, the fire that burned through my veins. If I had imagined the finest reward for finding Sora, for finally being able to be with him momentarily after all the time I’d spent following secretly… I couldn’t have fathomed it being anything like this. Whatever words Sora lacked the strength to fully say in his broken state, he’d said completely with such a simple but healing action: I love you; all is forgiven.
Reluctantly, and far too soon, it seemed, I felt him gently breaking away from me. I met his gaze, and couldn’t help but smile as he tried to look at my entire face at once. His sapphire eyes crossed in a way that would have looked foolish on anyone else, but only made him even more sweet and endearing in my eyes. The rose-petal blush that had colored his cheeks said that he’d enjoyed it as much as I had… though not without a bit of confusion in his eyes: was he wondering, like myself, if it was wrong to enjoy kissing your best friend like that? To want to? To love them?
“Do you want me to say ‘I love you’ or did that explain it clear enough?” Sora asked, a small laugh attempting to come out, but I could tell that he was nervous that… well, did he truly expect that his feelings were unrequited?
“You don’t have to, but it’s nice to hear it,” I said with a smirk. “I never imagined you would feel the same… so I’m still trying to convince myself this all isn’t a dream. Is it, Sora?”
“Would you like me to prove it?” Sora replied with a mischievous grin, the one I had seen countless times when he was about to do something he knew he shouldn’t. He didn’t even give me a chance to answer--pulling himself up, with quite some effort, he claimed my lips with his with my body reacting with the same felicity as the first time. However, to my utter shock, I felt his lips twist into an even bigger smile before he took my bottom lip and gave it a little bite before sucking on it briefly, gently, to ease any pain. I felt the heat rise to my face at such an unexpected--but completely enjoyable--“answer”.
“I do love you,” he said, his lips whispering against my cheek, his tone more serious than I had ever heard it, the almost husky whisper more alluring than a siren’s call. Continuing with his voice growing a bit stronger than the usual whisper, “I always have… I just wish I hadn’t waited so long to get the guts to admit to it. You mean more to me than anyone else-- anything else. That’s why I’ve fought this long. I’ve fought for when I’d meet you again and finally be able to tell you everything. I hope you can forgive me for being so foolish and... well, so selfish.”
I met his eyes hesitantly, to see if I was merely deluding myself, that Sora could possibly think he needed forgiveness from myself. I saw that there was nothing but warmth and certainty in his eyes as the Caribbean green met the azure blue. In some ways, the intensity of his gaze seemed even more intimate than the kissed we’d just shared. I could feel his hot breath on my skin, his breathing a bit heavier and quicker than normal. His thumb lightly stroked the smooth skin along the knuckle of my thumb, and I could see how subconsciously his lips parted a bit as he wordlessly looked at me in a way that made it impossible for me to avert my eyes.
“There’s nothing I need to forgive, Sora,” I said incredulously.
A huge smile lit up his face, the one that was so reminiscent of the Sora of years past--carefree, innocent, and endlessly gleeful… the angelic Sora with the trust of a child but the uncanny insight that rivaled an adult’s.
Staring at the sky for a few moments, his eyes thoughtful, Sora reached out his hand towards it, as though hoping to grasp the expanse of blue and cotton clouds within his fingers.
When he spoke again, it was not speaking so much as singing. As he sang, he closed his eyes, his expression peaceful as his voice flowed from his lips like water down a stream. His song was soft, quiet, hopeful… it wasn’t strong and powerful, but instead matched the tranquil spirit who sang the words. It carried over the wind that had picked up some autumnal leaves on the ground, almost as though the breeze wanted to carry his voice over the buildings of Twilight Town and into the sky itself.
“When I remember long ago, the future was forever shining. Below the beautiful blue sky, we were only frightened a little…”
