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The training is unlike anything he’s done before. Although they’re both trying to become keyblade masters, both trying to become stronger, there is no animosity between them. At first, he worries she hates him. That she can’t stand to look at him and remember what he did when he lacked a heart. At worst, he worries she’s scared of him. He can see the glimpses of fear when they spar sometimes, and it always puts an unease in the pit of his stomach. No matter how many times he apologizes, he never tries to justify his actions. He was reckless, ruthless, and in the end, he had lost…everyone. It had all been for nothing.
But now, across from him, is his first real friend in a while. She looks up and catches him staring, but he doesn’t avert his eyes just yet. “What’s wrong?” Her voice shakes him from his intrusive thoughts, and he finally turns away.
“Nothing.”
“Lea.” But he doesn’t respond, instead opting to sit down and watch her write.
“A letter?” He carefully diverts the subject to something else, unwilling to talk about his insecurities, unwilling to burden her with his troublesome thoughts.
“Yup.” She doesn’t look up, just continues her writing. She’s decided not to press him to talk, and he mentally thanks her.
“To Sora?” He guesses, and she looks up, tapping her chin with her pen in thought.
“Mmm, technically yes. But I won’t send it. It’s more for me.” Her answer makes no sense. Why write a letter without sending it? What’s the point?
“Ask Merlin. He’ll deliver it for you.” Merlin has been exceptionally accommodating to the two of them, making sure they’re comfortable and have everything they need. Asking him for help seems like an obvious choice.
“Yeah, but it’s ok. I just like talking to Sora, even if it’s on paper.”
“Oh, okay.” That makes…sense. Writing her feelings out with no consequence of having to deal with anyone’s reaction to the truth. Maybe he could borrow her methods and do the same? Keeping all his thoughts in his head was clearly not working. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if he’d ever get to talk to any of his friends again. Even if they were here, would they even want to talk to him? Would he deserve it?
Later that day, in the solitude of his room, he takes the journal Jiminy gave him out for the first time. “It’s important to chronical what happens. Who knows, maybe it will help you remember something you forgot!” The words echo in his head as he picks up a pen and sits down to write.
The first letter he writes comes the easiest. To you, He starts, then taps the pen against the desk, before writing once more. Actually, I can’t remember your name. It’s funny, I’m not really even sure if you’re real. Sometimes when I look at Kairi I see your face and feel…sad. Like I’ve let you down. But I can’t…place you. You’re so familiar and it makes my heart ache but…Maybe I’m just imagining you.
He pauses again and kicks his feet onto his desk, placing the journal in his lap before continuing to write.
Anyway, if you are real, I’m sorry I forgot you. Maybe in time I’ll remember. I hope wherever you are, you’re safe. He signs the letter from Axel (your friend?) before ripping the page out and folding it neatly to tuck away later.
Kairi’s right about this, it is nice to just write it out and talk. Already he feels a little better, so he continues to the next person he wishes he could talk to.
Roxas, I’m sorry I’m a shitty friend. I should have been more honest with you,
He drops the pen back on the desk and rips the page out, crumpling it up in the same motion before throwing it in the general direction of the trash can.
Roxas, I’m sorry. For everything. I wasn’t a very good friend to you. I hope that one day we’ll meet again and I can be better.
I’ve got my own keyblade, can you believe it? It’s actually pretty weak, or maybe it’s just me, but I’m proud of it. I’ll probably never be as good a wielder as you, but I’m okay with that.
Ienzo thinks we can get you back. I don’t really understand how, but he’s optimistic that it can be done. I hope he’s right. I miss you.
Don’t get me wrong, I have other friends! Tons! But…they don’t really understand what it’s like to go without a heart like we do.
Anyway, I hope to see you again.
Axel
This letter gets the same treatment as the last, ripped out and folded away. The next letter is the hardest, because he really has no idea what to say. He lets out an exhale and adjusts to sit properly, the notebook flat on the desk in front of him.
Isa,
I know as long as you’re with them, you’re Saϊx, but you’ll always be Isa to me.
How could you go back to them? To him? You’re supposed to be the smart one, what were you thinking?
He crosses the paragraph out with jagged pen marks, then tries to rephrase underneath.
I’m sorry. I know I pushed you away. I’ve always blamed you, but we both changed. I see that now.
Do you remember when we were kids, and we would tell each other everything? I miss that. I miss us.
He scratches the last sentence out aggressively. His heart is pounding in his chest and it hurts, but it’s good to acknowledge how he feels. The truth of it. He rewrites the sentence in small script, as if that will prevent Isa from reading it. Not that he’s ever going to see this, but still.
I actually didn’t tell you everything when we were kids. It never seemed like a good time, and once we were nobodies I really didn’t think it mattered.
He hesitates to write the next sentence. His throat feels tight and he has to blink away tears. It’s better to just say it. Isa’s never going to see it anyway.
I’ve always loved you. You were always strong for me, and I’ve never thanked you. So…thanks.
A few tears drip onto the page, ruining some of the words. He continues writing anyway, sure that if he stops he won’t ever pick it back up.
Let’s face it, we’ve been terrible to each other. I get it if you hate me. I’d hate me too. But, I understand why you did what you did. Well, some of it. I still don’t get why you’re with them now, but, I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you.
Please come home.
He signs it Lea and gently separates the letter from the notebook and tucks it away, unfolded. Even if no one will see these letters, it’s good to keep them. He pulls his knees up to his chest, feels the ache of his heart in his chest and the tears still wet on his cheeks. This heart hurts, but he prefers the pain over feeling nothing. And maybe, this will all be worth it in the end. Maybe his hurt won’t be for nothing, and he can have everyone he loves back. The thought fills him with warmth, and he decides for once to let the hope overcome him rather than dwell on the negatives.
From then on, he makes writing a weekly activity. The letters to the mystery girl are always short, but he tries to make them meaningful. He can’t shake the feeling they were friends, maybe even in a past life he’s struggling to remember. Since starting the letters, he realizes he sees her all the time, more than he had initially thought. She must have been important to him.
The letters to Roxas feel the most therapeutic. It’s easy to talk to him and imagine what he’d say back. He tells Roxas everything, and it feels nice to just talk about his day, even without Roxas’ usual quips. He can’t wait for Roxas to be back.
Unfortunately, the letters to Isa become long and drawn out. It takes a while to get rid of his emotional constipation, but once the first few letters are out of his system it comes easier. They are pleas to come back, questions of self-worth, and recollections of their past transgressions. They hurt. But, they also allow him to explore his true feelings for Isa. He writes about the boy he used to know, analytical and shy, who always came to his rescue. It feels like a lifetime ago.
He writes a final letter after the dust settles and everyone he has missed is back.
Sora,
Thanks for bringing them back.
Now it's your turn.