Work Text:
"Goodnight, my sweet." Riku's mother whispers, planting a wet kiss onto her son's forehead as she tucks him into bed. He's already covered up to his neck in a paopu fruit-clad blanket and snuggling his favorite Komory Bat plushie by the time he even notices his nightlight has been switched on.
"My goodness! I've never seen you in that much of a hurry to sleep, what's the occasion?"
The elder woman smirks and places an inquisitive hand on her hip, satisfied upon witnessing the intended effect of her quip. Caught red-handed, a fierce blush colors Riku’s cheeks, creeping its way along his neck.
He certainly hadn't been anticipating that.
"I-uhhhh…well, it's a school night, of course! Wouldn't want to oversleep. I'm a responsible student." He grins confidently, figuring that fib should be good enough to suffice. After all, he isn’t the smartest first-grader in his class for nothing.
"Yes, yes of course you are." She concedes, chuckling good-naturedly the way all mothers do when confronted with a well-kept secret. "I'll leave you to it then."
"Love you, mom."
"I love you more."
The woman lingers fondly for a moment, and then there's the light click of the bedroom door shutting behind her. Silence.
Riku flips onto his side and then his other side and then his stomach. He’s always prided himself on being a patient child. Adults on the Islands were constantly patting his head, praising, "what a good boy you are, Riku. Your mother must be so proud!" Yet, against his better judgement, he can't seem to shake the anxiousness out of his bones tonight.
How fortunate it was then, that he didn't actually plan on sleeping. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Riku would wait under the guise of sleep—a game he and the creature under his bed have been playing for months now. Though, ironically enough, it was really only Riku himself who was aware of that particular detail.
***
As Riku began to slip into a blissful lull, the harsh sound of claws scraping against hardwood followed by a high-pitched growl pierced the air, effectively startling him awake. In the next instance—ashen fur, wayward hair, and ocean eyes filled Riku’s vision simultaneously; and in his blurry, half-asleep haze, he almost thought he was still dreaming.
Once Riku’s racing heart slowed to a crawl and he was finally able to catch the breath lodged in his throat, all that remained was...bewilderment. Namely in the form of: what exactly is this creature, and what is it doing standing in the middle of my room? It appeared to be young, a boy about his own age if he had to take an educated guess. So, it couldn't be that dangerous, right?
Whatever it was.
"Aw man! You should see the look on your face right now, I totally got you!" The creature proclaimed eagerly, pointing a clawed finger in the silver-haired boy's direction. Riku, rendered utterly speechless, opened and closed his mouth several times (demonstrating his very best goldfish impression).
"W-Who...who are you? What are you?"
"I'm a monster! A bonafide Junior Scarer! Can't you tell?" He gestured, looking quite affronted.
The creature proceeded to boast himself, a vague attempt at conveying the word “menacing," as he bore what little fangs he had and positioned his slight frame to appear as if he were towering over Riku's bedside.
Riku blinked in awe. Okay, so, the kid didn't have a single monstrous bone in his body.
Interesting.
"Stay back! Please don't eat me, I promise I don't taste good!" Riku shrieked, clambering up against his headboard in haste for good measure. He didn't fail to miss the gleeful twinkle in the creature's eyes as he did so.
Perhaps realizing his mistake, the so-called "monster" quickly schooled his face back into character, brows knitted together and canines on full display. Then, dropping down on all fours, launched himself onto Riku's mattress.
"Noooo! I beg of you to spare me, o' foul beast!" He continued to shout—a vague voice snagged at the edges of Riku's mind, wondering if his mother could hear all this commotion and would eventually come upstairs to check on him.
Fortunately, those concerns vanished the instant Riku noticed a shadowy figure looming directly above him, demanding his undivided attention.
"You cannot escape me; your efforts are futile!" The monster roared (though it came out sounding similar to a supremely agitated kitten in Riku's honest opinion).
Nevertheless, Riku screwed his eyes shut tightly in suspense. He could feel the presence slowly inching towards him, hot puffs of breath hitting his left cheek as seconds built up into what felt like minutes and then-
"SORA!"
The creature rocketed backwards at the unexpected interruption, causing him to lose his balance and sent him tumbling onto the floor below with a painful crash. After a minute regaining his bearings, he fished out from his shirt pocket what looked to be a yellow walkie-talkie.
"Kai-riiii, I'm in the middle of a scare!" He squawked, indignant.
"I know, but you were taking forever! I was beginning to worry that maybe you were the one that got spooked instead." A girl on the other line countered, her voice teasing yet full of concern.
Unfortunately, the creature seemed much too flustered to sympathize with the girl's anxieties, well-intended or otherwise.
"I was not," he protested, feebly. Then added, "whatever, it doesn't matter. I'm heading home now."
He didn't give her a chance to respond before cutting the connection, shoving the device back into his pocket in an exasperated huff. It was impossible to tell for sure considering the thick coat of fur covering the creature's body, but Riku imagined he was most likely blushing underneath.
Sora.
So that was his name.
Sora, like the sky.
Riku tested the syllables out in his head a few times and decided he quite liked the name. It was befitting of someone so light and boundless.
"Your name's Sora." He blurted lamely, and it sounded even lovelier when spoken aloud. The boy in question turned to face him.
"Yep, guess now you know. Our teacher told us it's against the rules, but s’long as nobody finds out, it should be fine. I think." He explained, shrugging.
"You think?"
"Yeah, hopefully."
Having nothing more to say on the subject, the two fell into a comfortable silence, despite the awkward turn of events. Riku was just about to speak up again when Sora beat him to the punch.
"Welp. Looks like you'll live to see another day, Riku."
The casual mention of his name had caused the silver-haired boy to flinch.
"How do you know my name?"
"Easy, every monster knows the name of their person!"
Their person.
Meaning: Riku was his.
Riku knew Sora hadn't intended for those words to weigh as much as they had to him, but strangely enough, the thought made his heart feel full and left his stomach fluttering all the same.
How strange.
"Hey, Riku. Earth to Riku? Hellooooo?"
Riku was jerked from his reverie to find Sora peering into his face, arms waving around in confusion.
"Sorry," Riku mumbled unintelligently, "were you saying something?"
"Are you okay? Your face is like, a super ripe tomato!" Sora pointed emphatically, completely disregarding Riku's previous question.
"It's nothing," he lied, clearing his throat.
No way was he telling Sora the truth. He'd much rather eat his mother's steamed Brussels sprouts and spinach for a whole year before he ever confessed to something like that.
Riku had begun shifting nervously on the balls of his feet then, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and not quite sure what else to say.
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" He asked finally, which seemed to be the correct thing to ask, judging by the lightbulb reaction that visibly went off inside Sora’s head.
"Oh, right! I almost forgot, until next time!" Sora then flashed a toothy smile (“scary monster” facade abandoned) as he swung open Riku’s bedroom door, exiting into what appeared to be an endless, black abyss.
The door clicked shut (rather anticlimactically, all things considered) and Riku stood there gawking, stiff as a board—astonished for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
There was a whole other world just outside his room.
Bounding over to where Sora had disappeared, he carefully turned the knob—disappointed only to discover a familiar hallway leading to an oaken staircase he'd passed through countless times.
Needless to say, Riku did not sleep that night.
***
Burying himself into Komory Bat, Riku wills his eyes to stay closed. In a way, it feels almost reminiscent of waiting for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve with the way his mind is reeling from the possibilities. Though, he cannot say for sure since he most certainly does not believe in the existence of any jolly, old men—magical reindeer or otherwise. Instead, Riku chooses to focus his attention on practical matters.
What tactic would Sora use to frighten him tonight?
To his credit, the creature had improved considerably since their first encounter. For starters, he’s become impressively consistent at staying in character. Throughout the short time Riku's known him, Sora has demonstrated himself to be someone who’s easily swept up in a current of his own emotions, as if the heart beating inside his ribcage is far too large to be contained—fit to burst free at any given moment.
For better or for worse, Sora has gradually learned to tamper that fervid spirit of his. The smile he once wore so freely, now locked behind his eyes—stormy with renewed determination.
It’s as if he has something to prove, which, by all accounts, perhaps he does. Riku knows nothing of Sora's world, can’t capture a glimpse of it the way Sora can with his. These personality changes were normal for creatures of Sora’s kind, Riku rationalizes. He is supposed to be a monster, after all.
Even so, something twists viciously inside Riku's stomach at the notion, making him queasy and unable to rid the splintering thought that tells him something is wrong.
He finds himself selfishly wishing he could break that stupid walkie-talkie Sora’s always carrying around. Wishes he could stop that girl on the other end of it from reminding Sora to “stay on track,” or gently reprimanding him for “taking too long.” A small wave of resentment bubbling to the surface despite how wonderful she sounds through the static.
Riku discovers he’s well and truly terrified, yet not in the way Sora would favor him to be.
Sniff.
Riku is abruptly kicked from his thoughts when he hears a strange sniffling sound coming from somewhere within his bedroom. He strains his hearing, hoping to catch the faint noise again, and then—
Sniiiiif sniff.
He wasn't mistaken this time, there was definitely someone occupying the underside of Riku’s bed. Constrained sniffles soon evolved into muffled sobs—as one sounds when trying to conceal the fact that they are, indeed, crying. The realization of who they undoubtedly belonged to causes the pre-existing knot forming inside Riku’s gut to constrict violently.
Instinctively, Riku plunges an arm into the space behind his pillows, palming about until he makes purchase with the familiar, rubber handle of his flashlight. He presses down on its switch and the bulb flickers to life after a few moments, batteries worn from use.
Riku slowly careens over the side of the mattress, careful to avoid making the bed creak and so as to not tumble off completely. Craning his neck to see, he lowers the flashlight, illuminating shadows lurking beneath.
What Riku discovers knocks all the air out of him at once, ten times worse compared to how his lungs burn after running laps along the beach.
Starkly spotlighted under the flashlight’s harsh glow, Sora is curled up near the back corner where Riku’s bed meets the edges of the wall. He’s tucked into the fetal position, chest heaving rapidly and fur standing on end. Riku’s heart jumpstarts at the sight of it.
“What are you doing under there?” Riku asks around the lump in his throat.
Sora visibly startles, alerted to the fact that he's been exposed. He shifts towards Riku’s general direction while squinting against the brightness slightly obscuring the silver-haired boy.
“R-Riku, I’m so sorry!” Sora half-hiccups-half-whimpers.
“Hang on,” Riku says, dismissing him.
He climbs down onto the floor properly, bare feet hitting hardwood with a soft thud. For a second, all Sora can see is Riku’s legs before he crouches in front of him. To Sora’s relief, he’s no longer holding the flashlight.
“C’mon, it’s okay. I’ll help you.” Riku coaxes gently, extending a hand towards the frightened creature. The action belatedly reminds Riku of how he once tried to rescue a stray puppy who had somehow wandered into the Secret Place.
Sora swallows forcibly, nodding his head, then grips Riku’s hand in the darkness.
Soft fur tickles Riku’s fingertips, sending a small jolt of electricity up the length of his arm. He shakes his head clear in the same way he does when dissatisfied with an Etch A Sketch drawing. It is only then that Riku becomes acutely aware of the paw trembling in his clasp.
“It’s okay,” he repeats, trying to give Sora what he thinks is an encouraging smile. He almost sighs in relief when he hears the creature shuffling closer.
Riku proceeds to help Sora crawl out from underneath the bed, pulling him to his feet once he’s liberated.
“Here, let’s sit.” Riku suggests, patting the space next to him on the duvet. Sora hops up, frantically wiping tears from his red-rimmed eyes.
“Riku, I-I—” Sora chokes, struggling to string a sentence together. Without thinking, Riku rejoins their hands, pressing Sora’s palm flat against Riku’s heart.
“I’m going to take some deep breaths with you, mom always does it with me when I get really upset.”
Riku unconsciously begins to rub small circles into the back of Sora’s paw. The creature nods in favor of speaking, eyes fluttering shut in response to the soothing sensation.
“We’re going to inhale for four seconds, hold our breath for seven, and exhale for eight. Sound good?”
Sora nods again, sitting up a little straighter and shifting to face his friend completely. Riku closes his eyes as well.
“Okay, let’s start.” Riku whispers, allowing his lungs to gradually fill with oxygen—chest expanding like an inflated balloon as he mentally counts to himself. In turn, Sora mirrors him, his first inhale shuddering in his nostrils.
It doesn’t take long for their movements to synchronize naturally. The world dissolves—a sanctuary solely inhabited by two boys. The sounds of their breathing mixes with the steady thrum of Riku’s heart, a metronome upon Sora’s open paw.
Eventually, Riku feels Sora lightly tugging away, warmth retreating.
“You’re right, I feel much better. Thanks, Riku.”
His voice was barely above a whisper and wobbled on Riku’s name, but Riku can tell Sora has calmed significantly—the tension he’d seen building in his muscles, relaxing.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?”
Sora’s gaze flits around nervously in a way that almost makes Riku regret asking. The creature worries his bottom lip before looking back up at him.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” He pleads—eyes two swimming oceans. Riku wonders who Sora even expects him to tell. But he doesn’t mention that, just says,
“Pinkie swear.”
“Pinkie what?”
“Pinkie swear. It’s when two people hook their pinkies together in order to signify a promise that can’t be broken. You’ve never done one before?” Riku muses, chuckling.
“Never!” Sora exclaims, cat-like ears perking—mouth forming an awestruck ‘o’ shape. He’s incredibly easy to please, yet, Riku finds he considers it to be one of the creature’s many charms.
“Well, I’m changing that now.” Riku states, holding out his right pinkie finger. Sora blinks for a moment before reciprocating, and Riku takes the initiative to twine his pinkie around Sora’s own. After giving their conjoined fingers a firm shake, he takes a breath, leaning back.
“There, now you don’t have to worry. My lips are sealed.” He assures the other boy, grinning.
Despite his efforts, Sora’s gaze stays fixed on his outstretched finger, brow furrowed with anxiety. Riku’s easiness wavers.
“Sora?”
“I—I’ve been a bad friend to you, Riku!”
And just like that, the knot that had been sitting at the pit of Riku’s stomach earlier has returned full force.
“Why do you say that?” He prods, desperately trying to keep his voice as measured as humanly possible.
“Because...because—I—” Sora stammers, and in a flash, Riku scrambles to close the distance, terrified that the creature might work himself into another panic.
“I’m right here. You can tell me anything, Sora.” Riku says, cupping his friend’s cheeks with both hands, wiping away stray tears that have managed to roll their way unto Sora's fur and prays that he's at least marginally comforting.
“I’m sorry for scaring you these past few months!” The creature relinquishes, blinking rapidly.
What?
“You’ve been so nice to me...even though I’ve been—” He worries his lip again, casts his attention elsewhere, everywhere but at Riku.
“Sora, look at me” Riku gently guides him—his hands still placed atop Sora’s cheeks.
“Is that what’s been bothering you?” A poorly-suppressed giggle slips between Riku’s teeth in spite of himself.
“Hey! What’s so funny?” Sora pouts, thoroughly embarrassed and Riku can feel rather than see the heat of it seep into his fingers.
“Sorry, sorry,” He apologizes quickly. “It’s just, isn’t it a little strange for monsters to be concerning themselves over something like that?”
Honestly, should Riku even be surprised? This was Sora. Although, for a while, Riku had been convinced that the Sora he’d grown accustomed to was gone for good. Admittedly, he couldn’t help but relish the feeling of relief washing over him knowing that hadn’t been the case, regardless of his friend’s moral dilemma.
“I actually have another secret too…”
“Oh?”
Sora toys at a frayed piece of string poking out from the duvet.
“I don’t like scaring people." The creature mutters, his voice unbelievably small, as if he had just confessed to swiping the last cookie from the jar.
“What's so bad about that?” Riku questions, because he doesn't understand it one bit. Scaring made Sora miserable, nearly forcing him to repress his true nature. What could be good enough to justify that?
“Scarers are brave and everyone relies on them. Scream Fuel powers our whole city.” Sora recites automatically, indicating that the sentiment had been all but drilled into him. “My big brother, Roxas, is training to be one too someday. He’s the coolest!”
Riku couldn’t help but frown at the sheer amount of adoration evident in Sora’s explanation, knowing now that it had ultimately caused the creature to doubt himself to the point of exhaustion. Sora clearly didn’t think he was very cool in his own right. Riku was opening his mouth to rectify this misunderstanding when the creature interrupts him.
“Roxas and Hayner say I’m not cut out to scare anyone. They say I’m too ‘cuddly,’ too ‘cute.’” Sora openly cringes as he says the word. “So, Kairi and I have been partnering up to prove them wrong. But—” He hesitates for a moment, a wistful smile ghosting his lips. “I know she doesn’t believe I can do it either. You’re actually the only person who’s ever been scared of me.”
Riku does not possess the courage to tell him how false that statement is, that he’d only been pretending this entire time. Sora was torn up enough as it is and Riku was not keen on adding himself to the list of reasons as to why he was. So in lieu of that he says,
“Sora, you shouldn’t try to make others happy if it means making yourself unhappy in the process. You are you. That’s what matters most.” Riku affirms, poking Sora in the chest. Sora tilts his head, ears drooping.
“I’m not good at anything else, though…” He trails off dejectedly, and Riku feels an urgent, simmering heat rising in his core.
“Of course, you are! You just haven’t noticed it, everyone has something that makes them special. Something no one else can imitate.”
“I dunno, Riku. Do you really think so?” Sora looks to him again, his eyes the size of saucers.
“Mhm. I know so.”
For the first time that night, Sora considers Riku’s words, really considers them. He’s sitting cross-legged now, scratching at the fur underneath his chin in contemplation. All Riku can do is stare helplessly, watching as Sora reaches a conclusion he’s unable to see.
“Gahhh! It’s hopeless!” The creature exhales abruptly, Riku’s heart seizes.
“If only Monstropolis ran on laughs instead of screams, then I’d be the one making fun of Roxas!” He laments dramatically, letting himself flop back onto the bed, the force of it causing the two boys to bounce slightly. Riku follows suit, lying next to the creature at his side.
“You never know until you try. Who knows? Maybe laughter will produce even greater power.” Riku surmises, staring at the galaxy lights sprawled across his ceiling. He imagines him and Sora out on the beach, stargazing under a well-lit sky. From the corner of his peripheral vision, Riku can make out a goofy smile stretching Sora's features from ear-to-ear.
“I think...I’m gonna try it. I think I can do it.”
“Right.” Riku agrees, smiling fondly to himself. Because, if anyone could pull it off—it was Sora. That, he believed more than anything else in the world.