Chapter Text
there’s a feeling of joy in the air, though it’s unspoken. dust circles around the group as they stare holes into sora’s back. hunched over, the boy looks off to the sky; most definitely looking for answers. he stares so long that riku starts to get worried, his heart feeling heavy in his chest. he always knew when sora was upset, sometimes even before sora could register the emotion. it was something that riku both loved and hated, knowing exactly how sora was feeling and when he was feeling it. riku wishes more than anything that he could take away all of the pain sora's had to face, take away the loss and give him back whatever bit of childhood he had left. it always seemed unfair to him, how early sora had been stripped of his childhood, though he still sported that boyish charm and never ending sense of adventure. at times, he wished that he could be more like sora. always open for new adventures, always looking for the bright side, always finding the light in the dark. riku moves hesitantly, hands stuffed in his pockets as he shuffles unsurely toward him before mickey speaks up.
“it’s finally over,” the mouse voices, sounding more relieved than anything. not that riku could really blame him, mickey had been a pawn in the keyblade war for as long as he could remember. so no matter how good it felt for him to be out of it, he could only imagine how nice it must be for mickey to finally be able to return home without having to worry about what trouble riku or sora were going to get into.
a pause. brevity. sora inhales and exhales shakily, defeated. his head hangs low, shaking side to side before he speaks up. his voice is hoarse, broken as it comes out slightly above a whisper. if he'd said anything more than one word, riku was sure he wouldn't of been able to register it.
“…no.”
there’s no doubt in riku’s mind that he’s begun to feel sorry for himself. it was one of sora’s only bad traits, at least according to riku. sora was always so bubbly, full of life, and overall energetic. to see the male in any other light was just unfathomable, almost insufferable. it hurt riku more to see him like this than to endure all of the injuries he’d acquired in his time training and battling the darkness. he steps forward once more, this time more confidently. the silver haired boy reaches to rest his hand on sora’s shoulder, squeezing comfortingly.
“sora,” he starts, “we’ll find kairi. let’s head back to master yen sid. we can figure it out.”
it was the truth. riku would work endlessly to find kairi, go to hell and back if that's what it took. as much as he wanted kairi home, sora wanted it ten times more than he did. and no matter what underlying feelings might have been boiling in the pit of riku’s core, he would always sacrifice his desires for sora. from the time that they were kids running circles and jumping from tree to tree on destiny islands, it was easy to tell the way sora felt about kairi. because it was the way riku had felt about sora. riku squeezes at his shoulder once more, piercing blue green eyes fluttering shut as he silences himself. he understands the hurt taking over the younger boy, can empathize with how awful he must be feeling. he’d felt it once before, when sora fell into a deep sleep and was awaiting his awakening. back when riku had to succumb to the darkness to overpower roxas and get back sora’s memories. riku spent months stuck in the body of ansem, fighting desperately internally to regain his strength. the only thing that kept riku going was sora. he had to do whatever he could to help him, even if it meant sacrificing his sanity. it feels like an eternity passes before the silence is broken. the friends sharing looks between each other, most of confusion and others of concern.
“no,” sora repeats. “i know what to do.”
riku knows better than to argue with him, though part of him still wants to. the muscular boy pulls his hand away from sora’s shoulder, eyes adverting to anything that wasn’t the back of his head. he huffs low in his throat, narrowing his eyes as he squints toward the mess of keyblades beside them. the decision was foolish, but it was one that sora was going to have to make on his own. riku would no longer stand between him and destiny, he would have to support him no matter what trouble his efforts would get him into. he could only hope that sora realized he was getting himself in over his head with all of this. he was no expert on the power of waking, but something told him that no matter how much good it may do, there's something bad lurking around just waiting to happen. the tall boy frowns, shaking his head to himself.
“sora…”
it comes from mickey this time, the mouse wide-eyed as he stares up at his friend. riku tries to tune it out, he can’t bear the thought of even a chance of losing sora. not after everything they’d been through, not after how close they’d gotten and how strong his feelings had become. sora was the one thing that got him through the darkness, the one thing that kept him pushing. sora was his light at the end of the tunnel. each of their friends knew that, even if none of them voiced it. somewhere, deep down, riku had convinced himself that sora knew that, too.
“my whole journey began the day i lost her. and every time i find her, she slips away again. i thought we’d finally be together. but she’s out there, alone.”
sora turns to face his friends, eyebrows knitted together. his frown is evident in his speech, eyes confident and sure. this is the first time riku’s seen the boy look this determined - if he doesn’t count the times when they were normal teenagers back on destiny islands, competing in silly obstacle games. sora was always so keen on beating riku, so much so that one day riku actually let him win. and the smile on the boy’s face was worth all the gloating he’d have to listen to for months to come. it almost pains him to see him like this, so willing to give his life up to bring kairi home. though, he's not surprised at the gesture; seeing as sora had sacrificed himself for kairi once before.
everything feels uneasy, each of their friends unsure of what to say. riku can’t look at him any longer, afraid that he’s going to say something he shouldn’t. he has to bite his tongue to stifle any murmurs or snide remarks, because he doesn’t want to look like that friend. the pain of losing kairi hasn’t set in yet, but when it does he knows it will be unbearable. to add onto that pain and risk losing sora? it’s something unimaginable. something he hopes he’ll never have to experience, because the thought alone of not getting to see sora’s goofy smile, or listen to another one of his bad jokes… it hurts riku more than he’d ever like to admit. it’s a pain he’s never felt before, but it stings in his chest. he crosses his arms over his chest slowly, a defense mechanism he’d adapted to reassure himself and appear calm and collected. but right now he feels like the world is ending, honestly. after everything they’d been through, everything he fought for - sora was willing to risk all of that to save kairi. riku isn’t sure whether he admires him for being so brave, or scolds him for being a complete idiot.
donald and goofy offer themselves as followers, willing to embark on the trip with sora in a final attempt to save kairi. it puts his mind at ease to know that sora has friends, besides himself, that are willing to look after him and keep him safe. riku has never doubted sora, though sometimes he may have come across as if he did. the truth is that riku knows sora is so much more than he presents himself to be. he knows sora’s true being, how pure his heart is, and how strong he is. the boy was much more than he gave himself credit for.
“thank you, donald, goofy. but this time, i have to go it alone.”
riku audibly groans, eyes shutting tightly as he looks away once more. this is beginning to play out like a bad movie and he can already predict the ending. heroes never get the girl, he wishes he could tell sora that. he wishes he could tell sora a lot of things, things that would maybe make him rethink seeking out kairi - alone, at least. things that would maybe make sora see him in a different light. things that could ultimately ruin their friendship if sora didn't reciprocate those feelings. but riku fears that if sora leaves now, he'll never get to know. he's not sure which is worse; knowing or not knowing, or never getting the chance to know.
“sora, listen. the power of waking isn’t to go chase hearts around. even if you do locate kairi, you might never come home to us again,” mickey warns, hands curled into fists and nearing tears.
“i will,” sora protests, “and we’ll both be back before you know it.”
the older boy can hear their back and forth from where he’d shifted to. further away from all of their friends, trying to find comfort in the burning sun beaming down on them. when he dreamt of exploring new worlds, it was never like this. it was never having to face the reality that he could lose not one, but both of his best friends. things seemed so much easier when they were younger, when sora lived in his shadow and strived to be just like him. when sora wasn’t so sure of himself and his abilities. it was hard to bargain with someone who knew exactly what he was capable of. mickey’s cries of reasoning were falling on deaf ears. sora knew what he had to do, and he knew the risks. but nothing would stop him; he was one hell of a strong-willed kid. except, not so much a kid anymore. riku tears his eyes away from the sky, hands falling to his sides as he moves closer to the two. he kneels down beside mickey, resting his hand on the mouse’s shoulder.
“let him go, mickey.” riku gives mickey a knowing look before turning his attention back toward sora, offering him the most reassuring half-smile he could muster up. “his heart and his mind are made up. now, believe in him.”
sora silently thanks riku, smiling so surely back at him. he turns his back toward the group of friends, all watching as the boy summons his keyblade and a beam bursts through the sky.
riku waits weeks for sora’s return, heart growing heavier by the days. by now he’s lost count, or too many have gone by for him to want to remember. he puts on the bravest front he can for all of his new friends, who were saved by sora’s powers. it’s selfish to wish he were there instead of them, but riku doesn’t mind being selfish every once in a while. he sits out by the shore on destiny islands, where he, kairi, and sora once worked ferociously to build a raft and set sail to explore the surrounding worlds. all of that seems like a lifetime ago.
while their friends are busy building sand sculptures - which riku is still convinced requires some sort of black magic, especially with the way donald and goofy are able to recreate donald in some life-like replica of sand, riku’s mind is preoccupied with thoughts of the younger boy. he can’t stop worrying about whether or not he’s okay. and if he wasn’t would he know? of course he would, he always does. but maybe this time was different. he doesn’t get much time to sulk before terra and roxas are challenging him to a race. it’s not like riku to say no, being the overly competitive being that he is. and, oddly enough, doing things that remind him of sora helps keep his mind off of the boy. at least for a little while. he’s not sure if he’s lying to himself about that or not, but for moments he can imagine that sora is there beside him like the good old days. it hurts a lot less if he doesn’t imagine never getting to do this with sora again. he wins by a couple of seconds, low laugh falling from his lips. he grins at the other two, throwing his hands up in defense.
“better luck next time, s—”
his voice falls flat, coughing to cover the slip up. the other boys smile at him reassuringly, but there’s no mistaking the fact that he was thinking of sora. there was little that riku did in his day to day life following sora’s departure that didn’t remind him of sora. especially being back home, at the place they first met - the place they became life long best friends. it was safe to say that riku was hurting. far worse than any of the others, who seemingly had placed sora at the back of their minds. though, he didn’t blame them. he was sure that if he’d been restored and able to spend time with the friends he’d missed in his time away that the boy who saved him would be the last thing on his mind as well. the pale boy leans back against one of the rocks planted in the sand, small smile on his lips as he flips through photos of the boy from his gummi phone. the picture updates on his feed from past missions gave him a sense of false comfort, imaging that somewhere out there sora was still taking these pictures and thinking of dumb captions and hashtags to use for when he posted them. he shoves the gummi phone back into his pocket, scrunching his face up slightly as he blinks rapidly. he swallows hard, teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he forces himself not to cry. not here, at least. not in front of all of their friends, that sora easily risked his life to save. he could cry at home in the comfort of his bed, curled up beneath the sheets and staring out his window; similar to how he and sora used to whenever the boy would sleep over.
he can recall the nights that sora wouldn’t stop tossing and turning, nightmares getting the better of him. riku would whisper quiet thoughts of exploration and new and exciting worlds until the younger boy slept peacefully. or when they would stay up pointing out constellations, wondering which they’d pass on their journey and declaring that if they’d ever get split up that they would still be connected under the same stars.
his thoughts are interrupted by donald’s voice, eyes trailing along with everyone else’s up to where sora and kairi sat comfortably on a tree branch. while their friends stand back, riku paces forward, in disbelief of their return. he watches along with the rest of them, the sun setting in front of the pair as they hold hands. it almost breaks riku’s heart. but he reminds himself that this is for the better, that sora’s happiness is his own and it’d be far too evil to wish his happiness away in spite of his desires. kairi and sora were his two best friends and he would be happy for them, he would.
is that a tear?, riku thinks to himself, eyebrows furrowing slightly. why would kairi be crying? shouldn’t she be happy that sora saved her from the impending darkness and from being trapped somewhere all alone? the only reason she should be crying is if…
“no!” riku gasps almost inaudibly, blue green orbs widening in defeat.
he gawks helplessly as he watches the boy fade from beside kairi and into the sunset. his legs carry him through the water, running toward the two until he’s up to his knees in the ocean. his body gives out, dropping down against the waves. he stares down as the waves crash around him, hand slapping against the water hastily. he feels broken all over again, like he’s lost the most important piece of him. his hand clutches over his heart, jaw clenched as he shuts his eyes. this can’t be real, he thinks, he has to be dreaming. he pulls himself up from the wet, sanded ground, water seeping through his clothes and making his steps heavier. his fingers curled inward into fists, he makes his way past his friends without another word spoken. he can’t be here right now, can’t cry in front of all of his friends who need him so desperately to be strong.
“riku,” lea voices, making an effort to grab the boy’s wrist in passing.
riku jerks away instinctively, eyes flickering toward the other male. lea can see the hurt in his eyes, the sadness that’s tearing away at him. it was similar to how lea felt when he’d lost xion and roxas, though he couldn’t imagine how it must’ve felt for riku who had known sora for almost his whole life. riku gulps thickly, breaking their gaze as he continues back home. he has to remind himself that this isn’t kairi’s fault, nor is it sora’s. but, god dammit, sora, you just have to be the hero, don’t you? you just have to save everyone even if it means you can’t save yourself in the end.
“i’m gonna find you. in every universe, in every reality; i will find you. and i will bring you home. — do you hear me, sora?” he stares blankly out of his bedroom window, eyes brimming with tears as he traces constellations against the cold glass. “i promise.”