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Riku was different, now.
He’d resigned himself to loneliness fully over the past year. He was a lost man with strange bedfellows- people he could only barely trust, let alone confide in or speak to. It wasn’t that Riku had ever been a talkative sort, or that he shared his emotions readily, but those days more than ever he felt guarded.
That year was well over, however. Now Riku had Sora again; staring up at him with expectant eyes every time he went quiet. He’d feared Sora’s eyes for so long and here they were, trained on him like they’d been glued there. Riku squirmed under his rapt attention.
He’d been avoiding Sora as best he could for so long, admonishing himself for every lingering stare or stray thought. In that time, he’d melded so completely with the darkness that it would be selfish to be near Sora, to risk corrupting him. Riku could only watch from afar, worry and fret and help wherever he could, keeping his distance.
It wasn’t as though Riku could ever forget his condition. It seeped into his very being. Before, the darkness had been a sensation, something he felt- like a cloud suffocating him, looming over him, dimming everything but the hate and frustration summering within. Those days, darkness wasn’t something he felt, but rather something he was. Ansem’s body was powerful. He hadn’t been lying. But it was draining too, like the power was eating Riku alive, like it was the true owner of that body and Riku just its fuel.
It had never mattered. Riku would give himself up for Sora easily. It was the least he owed him, after everything that had happened.
Now, however, pathetically and anticlimactically, Riku was back. His sacrifice, so carefully planned and generously given, had been rendered moot. The body he lived in now was his, whatever that meant.
Riku looked down to the palm of his hand, sometimes. It looked strange, now- small, and too pale. He flexed the fingers experimentally, surprised when they moved.
He’d felt the same strangeness when he first became Ansem, but then the darkness had soothed the transition. Riku had been too ashamed to inspect himself too closely, simply accepting how alien the world became. Everything he knew was smaller, suddenly, as he loomed over the world he once knew. He was taller, stronger, more powerful, sicker.
He hated how people flinched from him, but what choice did he have? He hated to harm someone who looked so much like Sora, but he would do anything for the real one.
“You’re thinking again.”
Riku winced. Sora’s observation was effortless, sharp and accurate. Riku couldn’t hide from him anymore.
“There’s a lot to think about,” Riku said blandly. His eyes flicked downwards to the careful, steady gait of his feet. His strides were smaller now.
“It’s making you all serious!” Sora said. He cut in front of Riku, walking backwards to face him as he gestured wildly. “Shouldn’t you be happier? We just saved all the worlds!”
“You’re going to walk into something.” Riku prophesized. Sora just pointed an accusatory finger at him.
“Don’t change the subject! You’re moping.”
Riku sighed. The walk from the town- though he learned now that town was a generous word, compared to the bustling communities in other worlds- to the beach had never seemed long until now. Sora was easily distracted, sure, but he was also a ruthless interrogator when he wanted to be.
“It’s strange to be back,” Riku offered in way of explanation. He hoped Sora would assume he was just talking about their return to the Destiny Islands. His fingers nervously twisted the plastic shopping bag that held the ice cream they’d purchased from the convenience store. It was probably half-melted by now. The heat of the Destiny Islands was relentless.
Sora just nodded, thankfully. “I miss it, too. Saving the universe’s kinda fun!”
Riku sighed. He was glad one of them was enjoying this. Sora deserved to, though- he’d never done anything but help. He deserved to smile now, excited but relaxed with the island sun beating down on him from above, casting him in hues as warm as the faint tones in his skin.
He also deserved to trip on the curb.
“Told you so,” Riku said coolly. Sora regained his balance clumsily, going back for his missing flip-flop with a grunt.
“You always think the worst is gonna happen.” Sora whined. That was because the worst often did happen, and it was better to be prepared than caught off-guard by it.
Riku didn’t say that, though. He just shrugged.
Destiny Islands felt like his body did, now- a little too small, a little cramped around his insides, familiar in a strange, uncertain way. Even before Riku had gotten the chance to get used to his body again, it’d changed. His wrist was sore and moved a little strangely. He couldn’t convince it to do what his other could. His side had a new scar running across it.
The islands, however, hadn’t changed like he had. They’d changed for the better, not worse. The convenience store had gotten bigger. Dirt paths had gotten paved. Sora squinted at the new building where the road met the boardwalk.
“Look, Riku!” He said, voice alight with excitement. “That wasn’t there before!”
It was a handy distraction, so Riku allowed himself to be tugged inside. If nothing else, the kiss of air conditioning made the excursion well-worth it.
“Welcome in, boys!” A short woman at the cash register said, leaning back against the counter. “How can I help you?”
“Just browsing,” Riku said, as Sora oooed and ahhed at the various equipment.
It was a small shop, wooden and painted over with garish reds and yellows. The meager space was completely stuffed to the brim with beach equipment- a tub of inflatables near the entrance, swimsuits on racks throughout the shop, a collection of surfboards in the back. They were what caught Riku’s eye, as he made his way through the forest of kitschy charms and magnets. The boards were different from anything else in the shop, sleek and subtle, colored in pleasing tones.
“Do you surf, son?” He heard the shopkeeper ask.
“No.” Riku answered truthfully. Surfing was something the older kids had done, but never Riku. Riku had always preferred sparring, anyways. A sword gave him power, and he was never concerned with anything else, was he?
When he looked over, he saw her shrug. “Got the build for it.”
That made Riku flush red.
“What about me?” Sora asked with a raised hand, practically jumping in place. She laughed.
“Paddle-boarding, maybe? You’re nice and wiry.” She said. Sora nudged Riku, eyebrows climbing up his face.
“Hear that, Riku? I’m wiry.”
“That’s a nice way of saying twig.” Riku flicked fingers at his forehead. Sora scoffed. “Thanks for letting us look around.”
“I’ll see you boys!” She said with a wave. Riku was proud to only flinch slightly at the familiar word.
Boy.
“We should get some tubes and float…” Sora mused as they walked towards the pier, uncharacteristically thoughtful. Riku snorted.
“So you can fall asleep in the ocean, too?” Riku jabbed. Their flip-flops tapped out a steady rhythm on the old wood, hollow and resounding.
“I totally deserve it!” Sora balled his fists. “You know how hard I worked out there?!”
“I do,” Riku said softly. He’d been watching Sora closely, and knew how much the worlds demanded of him. Being a hero was no small task. It was why Riku struggled so much with it.
“We’re on break, Riku. That means we get to laze around.” Sora said proudly, as he dropped down to sit on the edge of the pier. His legs dangled, but didn’t quite reach the ocean below. Riku deposited the grocery bag between them, and gingerly took his seat at Sora’s side.
Sora leaned over as soon as he did, on the hunt for his ice-cream bar- mango flavored- and once he had his prize, he unwrapped it eagerly. It was a little melted, just as Riku had predicted, but not inedible just yet. Riku decided to follow suit with his pistachio-flavored popsicle before it dissolved into goo.
That, however, meant looking down at his hands again, and seeing his legs draped over the pier, and the body that both was and wasn’t his. It was his body, of course, the one he’d been born in and lived in and grown into, but it felt unwieldy and strange now. When Riku looked down at the long hair he’d grown, and the muscles he’d worked for, he felt carefully detached. It was like a stranger’s body, like a remnant from the past, like an old photograph that was him once but wasn’t anymore.
It felt strange to move this body, like Riku was a distant puppeteer. It seemed surprising that it should move at Riku’s behest.
“Riku?”
Riku’s head snapped up at the sound of Sora’s voice. “Yeah?”
“You’re dripping.” Sora pointed to Riku’s popsicle, held lax in his hand, dripping onto the boardwalk. Riku shoved it into his mouth, ears flashing red.
He really was out of it.
Sora, of course, had noticed. His eyebrows creased. “Are you okay, Riku…?”
“Yeah. It’ll be alright.” It wasn’t really a lie. There wasn’t anything they could do to help, just wait it out. Time would heal all wounds, and all that. It just didn’t change the discomfort stretching out in his chest now, the feeling of wrongness that ran through his limbs. He’d feel better one day, but he still felt trapped today.
Riku tried to look away from himself. He let his eyes wander through the waves, which were busy rolling onto the shore without a care in the world. They beat out a steady rhythm, one Riku had missed every day away from the islands. It was like missing a heartbeat.
“Sora?” Riku asked, feeling off-kilter.
Sora had shoved his entire popsicle in his mouth in a valiant effort to stop it from dripping. “Mmmpf?”
It did not make him a very good conversationalist.
The question floating in Riku’s head seemed like a stupid one. Then again, Sora had never been shy about any of his. Riku asked it anyways.
“Think I should learn how to surf?” He asked. Sora brightened, pulling his popsicle out of his mouth.
“That’d be so cool!”
Although Riku would never have admitted it in his adolescence, he did so love it when Sora admired him.
Riku hadn’t exactly been saving up during the past year. He had some funds, sure, but buying a surfboard just about wiped him out.
The shopkeeper had helped him pick one out the next day, something long and soft to the touch (better for beginners, she explained). Riku could see why- the more surface, the easier it’d be to maintain his balance. The board he ended up choosing was blue. It’d been his favorite color for years, though it wasn’t until recently that he’d started thinking about why.
Riku had outgrown everything in his closet, having shot up in height and bulk ever since leaving the islands. Nowadays Sora took to borrowing his clothes, since he was only a little taller than Riku had been the day the door opened. It was strange to think about, especially since Sora was about the same age as Riku had been, but so much more grounded, so much more mature.
Riku had always fancied himself the grown-up one. He wondered how upset his fifteen-year-old self would have been if he’d known Sora would be taller, at the same age.
Riku’s new height, however, meant he was in dire need of new swimsuits, and it wasn’t a bad excuse to invest in a wetsuit. He wished they had colors other than black, because the dark material clinging to his skin reminded him of things he’d rather forget, but ultimately he didn’t mind that much.
After all, this wasn’t about Ansem. That was what he repeated to himself as he tugged the leash around his ankle, connecting it to his board. It wasn’t about darkness. Ansem and the darkness may have influenced the way he fought, the magic and techniques he used and the thoughts inside of his head, but surfing was something Riku was doing himself. It was something he was learning by himself- from the articles he had read on the ancient family computer when he couldn’t sleep the night before.
(The nightmares were back, again, the ones where he woke up and stumbled out of bed and when he looked in the bathroom mirror the counter was too far below him and his hair was shocked white and his eyes amber-)
Riku shook his head. He flexed his fingers.
He began to practice with the board. At first it was only on the sand- getting a hang of the footing and the proper balance, the bend of the knees. It wasn’t unlike fencing, but it wasn’t like it, either. Sure, some parts were the same, like how Riku had to focus on his standing position, but here, Riku couldn’t move. He had to stay in place, and let the shifts of his weight move him.
At least, that was the theory. He’d see for himself once he had made it to the waves.
The next day, Riku took to the water itself. He practiced paddling on his board, leading it out to the right depth and gauging the waves. When he wasn’t working, wasn’t forcing his strange, unwieldy body to just cooperate with him, there was something relaxing about being back in the ocean. The weightlessness made him feel almost right, again.
Riku closed his eyes and exhaled, letting the lazy ocean breeze tousle his hair. As the waves calmed he sat back on his surfboard, legs positioned on either side. The air was warm and sticky on his chest, and the water cool and refreshing around his calves.
When the water was still like this, it was almost like peering into glass. It was beautiful, reflecting the sky above into something endless, marred only by the strange reflection staring back at Riku.
Riku frowned at it.
“RIKU!”
Riku’s head snapped up, cheeks tinging with embarrassment, and he looked over to see Sora, standing on the beach and waving with both hands.
Riku lifted a hand of his own for a ginger wave back.
“YOU’RE DOING GREAT!” Sora cheered, but Riku wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing so impressively. Sitting?
He’d have asked, but he felt funny with Sora watching like this, and didn’t want to interrupt the encouragement. Instead, he went back to paddling.
Next to learn was taking off- standing upright to actually ride the wave. Standing on the beach again, Riku began to work the movements into his muscle memory, from the flat push of his hands and feet to the subtle twist that prepared him for the jump. The strangeness in his body returned at the weirdest times, like when he leapt to his feet and was knocked off-kilter by the lightness of it all. Shouldn’t he be bigger, taller, heavier? He had been bracing for so much more, and it never came.
Riku was good at these athletic sorts of things, though. He was strong, and a quick learner. It didn’t take very long for Riku to consider himself ready to try actually catching a wave.
Maybe it was bold, to make a move like that so soon, but Riku was nothing if not stubborn.
He watched for a while before finally striking, chest and chin pressed close to his surfboard as if it were a shield. Riku wasn’t entirely sure what he was afraid of. He’d been through far worse than wiping out. Still, somehow, this felt prophetic, larger than life. It was more than just a recreational sport.
Riku had practiced for long enough to know the feel of a good wave, to know how to sense when the water rumbled beneath him with enough energy and how to paddle frantically to keep up. After that, however, came the hard part- transitioning to standing.
Riku could barely contain his nerves. He recounted the steps in his head like a mantra, remembering to press his hands and toes flat against the board, to twist and lift up with one foot in front of the other-
But what if it felt wrong?
Riku’s hands were too small. He’d surely push himself off-balance. He was shorter than he was expecting, and his feet smaller, and his body leaner, and everything in him froze about halfway through. The push went askew and Riku with it, board flipping to the side as Riku tumbled into the wave.
The next few moments were a gnarled tangle of sensation. Water flooded Riku’s nose and eyes, throwing his ponytail back into his face. His cry was cut short by the force of the wave, and his eyes hastily wrenched shut, and a tug on his ankle told him his surfboard had gone flying too.
Riku resurfaced only a few moments later, but it felt like an eternity, with his head spinning and his lungs begging for air. Riku gasped and coughed, pulling hair from his face, and looking around frantically for his board as waves continued to crash into his back.
It didn’t take long for him to locate it, but the trudge back to shore felt the longest it ever had. There was a sense of shame to it, that Riku had spent so long practicing and all for nothing.
“Hey, man.”
Riku’s shoulders drooped. The only thing worse would be if someone saw all that. At least Sora was gone.
The gangly man who had stopped him didn’t seem unfriendly, however, offering him a small smile. “Want some advice?”
Riku didn’t have a response. He merely stared, which the man seemed to take as an invitation to continue.
“When you get up, you’ve really gotta commit.” He held up a fist. “No hesitation. Know you can do it, yeah? I’ve seen you practicing.”
My body just won’t listen to me, Riku protested rather loudly in his mind. He only realized afterwards it had only seemed so loud because he’d said it, accidentally.
“It will.” The man said. He couldn’t possibly know everything in Riku’s head, because there was no way, and Riku only barely recognized him as a teenager he’d met once before opening the door to darkness, but somehow, his smile was reassuring.
Riku would come back tomorrow.
Of course the first time Riku would get it right would be one where Sora was watching.
Sora had taken to coming with Riku during his surfing practice, though whether it was out of intentional solidarity or simple loneliness, Riku couldn’t tell. Sora didn’t hang out with the other kids as often anymore, and neither did Riku. Sora should’ve, though. He was more like them. He was normal.
He still looked and felt like himself, like he always had, because Sora was too pure and good to lose himself like Riku had.
Nevertheless, Sora had decided to spend his time watching Riku, cheering him on heartily. The first time Riku had successfully popped up and ridden an unsteady wave to shore, Sora had all but exploded into cheers, rushing to the water’s edge and congratulating him- peppering him with compliments about how cool he looked, and how he needed to teach Sora one day.
A part of Riku had been expecting the first successful surf to change everything. By then, he’d have proved something. He’d have taken control of his body, again, and everything would go back to the way it was.
Of course things couldn’t work out that way.
There was a rush of feeling for a bit, but the high ended as abruptly as it had begun. Even with Sora’s encouragement, Riku felt just as hollow after riding to shore. He did it again, and again, and Sora was equally as excited the twelfth time as he was the first, but Riku felt strange. Things were better, of course- he didn’t suffer the same seizing of crisis he had with his first attempt, and his limbs obeyed, feeling more like him, but still not quite.
As the sun began to set, casting the ocean into amber set beneath pink-stroked clouds, Riku decided that he’d had enough for the day. He’d done all he could, whatever that meant.
Riku hopped off of his board in the shallows, still deep enough for the waves to lap up to his knees, with his head unsteady and full of worries. Then, something fast knocked into him.
It was Sora, Riku realized almost too late. His arms jumped up on instinct alone, clutching Sora to his chest so he wouldn’t fall.
Before Riku could catch his breath or his balance, before he could ask Sora just what was going on, he was silenced by lips crashing into his.
Riku froze. Sora was gentle, of course, eyes scrunched shut and a smile clear on his face, but something in Riku felt unbearably cold. Riku jerked away and set Sora down, standing him in the shifting sand below. He stepped back.
“You shouldn’t,” Riku said, eyes cast downward. There he saw the waves, and legs- his legs.
“Why not?” He heard Sora ask. He always saw these things so simply. Riku was jealous. “Is something wrong?”
Riku’s stomach churned. How could he even begin to explain this to Sora? Should he? Sora would surely try to argue with him, to defend Riku from his fears and insecurities as he always did. He didn’t even take Riku’s anxieties seriously, sometimes, brushing them away so easily Riku wondered how they’d ever bothered him in the first place.
“Riku,” Sora’s voice was soft, as his hand snaked down to take Riku’s. “It’s okay if you want to be friends. I just thought, after everything in the realm of darkness-“
“What if I’m not myself?” Riku blurted out.
Sora blinked. He clearly wasn’t expecting that objection. “Huh?”
“What if he’s still somewhere in me?” Riku asked. He turned his face aside, so he didn’t have to look into Sora’s blue eyes. “I couldn’t do that to you.”
“Riku,” Sora said. His hands had gone to his hips, and he was looking at Riku like he was the dumbest person in the world. “He’s not. You look like yourself again.”
You look like yourself again.
That broke the dam.
“Like myself?” Riku asked. “Sora, what does that even mean? I’ve changed so much- I hardly know what I am, anymore. I was Ansem for so long that I’m not even sure this is right.”
For some reason, even though he’d been thinking it all along, forcing the words out hurt. Saying them aloud made them feel real, crushing Riku under their horrible weight.
“I’m scared of what that means.” Riku confessed. “There’s a part of me that feels like this is wrong and Ansem was right, because I look down and everything’s different, now, and I move and feel different, and if I think being Ansem was better than being me doesn’t that mean that he’s still here- or it’s worse, and I wanted to be like him all along, the darkness is still there and I secretly liked it and it’s who I really am inside-“
Riku couldn’t talk anymore. The tears were welling up inside of him, choking the words right out of his mouth. He didn’t know why he’d said all that, anyways. He never wanted Sora to know. He shut his mouth, like he should’ve all along, as hot tears beaded in his eyes.
Please don’t cry, Riku begged himself. That would be so stupid now, with Sora so near, standing in the ocean where gentle waves lapped at his legs and the sun turned a sweet caramel hue above. Everything was beautiful and nice here, like Sora, and here Riku was, forcing back tears, ruining everything.
What was wrong with him?
Sora didn’t say anything, which was weird, because Sora was always talking. Instead, he just raised a hand to Riku’s face, tentative and slow, and cupped Riku’s cheek. Riku leaned into the touch, letting Sora hold his face.
“It’s okay, Riku,” Sora said softly, and that made no sense considering everything Riku had just told him, and Riku knew that he didn’t deserve such tenderness, so his traitorous body just cut the difference between the twisting emotions and let his tears fall.
He was an idiot.
Sora’s free hand rose up to join the other, though this one pulled around Riku’s neck. It tugged at him gently, and Riku got the message and bowed his head. He let Sora bend him down and rest his head on Sora’s shoulder, where he buried his face. There he couldn’t see their surroundings any longer, enveloped by the familiar scent of white chocolate.
Riku wrapped his arms around Sora again, firmer this time, squeezing him tight. In the mock privacy there, Riku let himself cry. He let his tears bleed into Sora’s clothes, his own old white t-shirt, regretful that they were staining the fabric but unable to help himself. Riku didn’t even know why he was crying, exactly, just that he’d been completely and utterly overwhelmed. He shook in Sora’s gentle hold, sobs wracking his body in waves.
He'd been alone for so long. He’d been separated from Sora for so long. A part of him had been convinced that he would never speak to Sora again, and an even bigger part of him convinced that he didn’t deserve to.
Sora’s hand rose to idly stroke up and down Riku’s back. It was rhythmic, like the lap of the ocean around his calves, and slowly, steadily, Riku’s tears began to wane. Shame bit at him. Had he really just cried in front of Sora? He hadn’t cried in public in ages. He wasn’t a child anymore. This past year had more than proven it.
“You shouldn’t have to see me like this,” Riku finally said. His voice had been reduced to a croak, hopelessly emotional. It hurt to hear.
Sora’s hand had moved upwards, petting Riku’s hair. “That’s stupid.”
Riku bristled, slightly. He tried to pull away, but found he couldn’t. His head felt too heavy, his eyes too raw. Sora was too warm, too comfortable. Why would he move away, back into the unknown, when he was so safe here?
“I don’t want you to think I’m weak,” he mumbled in protest.
“Did you think I was weak when I saw you and started crying?” Sora asked. “Everybody feels things, Riku. Don’t be stupid.”
Riku took a deep, shuddering breath, and did as he was told. As the tears dried, sensation began to return to him. He could feel how the majority of his wetsuit had dried and stuck to him, save for his shins where the cool waves still rocked. When he opened his eyes, pulling away slightly, he found the sun lower, casting the beach in a purplish red. Sora was looking at him with big, expectant eyes; with so much concern it hurt Riku’s chest. This was what he had been afraid of.
“It’s nothing,” Riku said. “Forget all of this.”
It didn’t help that his eyes still stung, and he most likely resembled a red puffy mess. It said a lot about how pathetic Riku probably looked that Sora didn’t even dignify it with a counter- no Riku, you look awful or of course it’s not nothing or anything like that.
“Riku…” Sora just said, looking at him with damnable pity. Riku had to look away, down, shuddering.
His surfboard was still there, tugging gently at his ankle.
“C’mon,” Sora’s voice was bright as it always was. “I always wanna help you, Riku. Let me.”
“I’m supposed to protect you.” Riku protested. He was older, stronger, had more to atone for.
Sora’s new look was more familiar, thankfully. It was a knowing smirk. “You just want to steal all the glory! It’s not fair. You’ve gotta give me a chance.”
Riku considered it. He considered letting go, allowing himself to ask Sora for help. Burdening him.
“It’s getting late, though.” Sora observed. “Walk me home?”
That, at least, was normal, and Riku nodded gratefully. Riku had been walking Sora home ever since they were kids- he walked nearly everyone on the play island home, because he was the oldest, and the most responsible. Sora didn’t need it now, of course, tall and poised and a hero in his own right. Riku suspected the request was as much for Riku’s sake as it was for Sora’s own.
Still, Riku clung to the normalcy, even as he turned the kiss over in his head and wondered exactly what to make of it. His own feelings for Sora were new, so new that he had never had time to seriously consider them. Riku’s instinct had been to repress them, monstrous and imposing as he was. Someone like him couldn’t ever be with Sora.
But what if he could?
Riku tried to picture it, as he unclipped his surfboard and swung it and his towel over his shoulder. He tried to imagine himself with Sora by his side- not as his rival, or his enemy, or even friend, but as something more.
Riku couldn’t deny longing for it as he had watched Sora sleep, as he worked tirelessly to bring him back. Seeing how strong Sora had become, how he had still retained his loyalty and gentleness (and yes, his childish glee) had filled Riku with a loving nostalgia, something that burned close to his heart. He wanted to hold Sora close, to protect him from everything in the world, to make him happy and show him how much Riku cared. Riku missed how simple it had all been, back when Sora had admired him and they had simply been inseparable.
“Riku?”
“Hmm?” Riku looked over. Sora was walking by his side at an even pace. The sun had set entirely by now, leaving Sora lit only by the scant streetlights lining the path home. They pulled warm hues out of his brown hair, set his eyes aglow.
“I told you I don’t care what you look like, and I was serious about that. You’re still my Riku, no matter what.” He said. Maybe it wasn’t the streetlight putting fire into his eyes. Maybe that was just Sora’s determination.
It was contagious, just like every one of Sora’s emotions was. Riku felt stronger just looking at him.
“I feel lost.” Riku was able to admit. “I don’t know what it means to be me.”
Sora rolled his eyes. “That’s why I said you’re my Riku. I know what it means! You can count on me.”
He jerked his thumb towards himself, and Riku could feel himself flush bright red. His. He’d never thought about belonging to Sora- mostly concerned with the other way around- but this was nice. He’d always imagined that leaning on other people would make him feel weak, but having Sora’s support made him feel stronger than he ever had before.
It was far stronger than the darkness.
When they finally made it to Sora’s house, Sora spun back around with a broad smile on his face.
“For the record,” he said, “You’re doing a great job of being my Riku. Stop thinking so hard!”
Riku’s smile felt more like a wince. “…follow your heart?”
“Yeah, exactly!” Sora seemed excited, despite Riku’s faltering suggestion. He tapped Riku’s chest, just like Riku had done for him a week ago- a lifetime ago. “Follow your heart.”
It wasn’t bad advice.
“Are you sure about this?”
Riku nodded. He’d tried a couple of different styles for his hair- a ponytail, sweeping it over his shoulders, pulling it into a bun, and he’d even made a valiant effort at braiding. None of it worked. None of it made it feel less like long white hair, something he was used to and maybe even missed but sure didn’t want to.
If Riku was going to be himself again, he wanted the chance to choose what that was. He would try something new.
“I do like it like this.” Sora said thoughtfully. “Maybe you’ll try it again, someday?”
It was a lot of work to take care of, but if Sora liked it… “Can’t make any promises.”
Sora huffed. “Then at least let me get a picture!”
That made Riku laugh. Sora seemed proud of himself for it, ruffling Riku’s hair.
“Just cut it.” Riku ordered.
“Maybe you should’ve gone to Kairi,” Sora pondered, with an idle snap of the scissors in midair. “I’ve never cut hair before.”
“Kairi didn’t kiss me yesterday.” Riku pointed out. It made Sora quick to acquiesce.
“Hold still.”
Riku obeyed, holding his head steady. He heard Sora’s huffing and the mumble of his thinking, and then the snap of the scissors right by his head. Hair tumbled to the ground.
Riku exhaled. This was really happening.
“We can be just friends, if you want,” Sora reminded him.
Riku wanted to shake his head, but he thought that’d almost definitely mess up the haircut. “No. You’re… my heart, Sora.”
It sounded stupid to him, but he hoped it got the point across. It seemed like something Sora would say. Sora nudged Riku’s head forwards gently, moving back towards Riku’s nape.
“I think I need you,” Riku said softly.
It was embarrassing to admit. Part of him still thought this was a bad idea. He never wanted to be dependent. Wasn’t that the problem, back with Ansem? He hadn’t been able to stand on his own, and had let himself be lead.
Sora would never hurt him, though. Riku was somehow absolutely certain of that. Riku would do everything he could to keep Sora from harm too, no matter who was threatening him.
“Well, you’ve got me!” Sora said cheerfully. “I’ll always come when you need me to.”
Riku was envious of how easily he could say things like that, how he could simply believe that was all possible.
“Turn your head to the side?” Sora asked. Riku did. He could hear Sora snipping at his bangs there.
“I just don’t know if this’ll look good,” Sora admitted with a nervous laugh. “But I’ll do my best!”
“Can’t be worse than Ansem,” Riku said, glib. He’d take something messy if it was his- his and Sora’s.
If he’d let anyone change his look now, it would absolutely be Sora. Riku trusted Sora. In times like these, it almost seemed like Sora knew him better than he knew himself.
“Whatever you do, I’ll like it, just because it’s you.” Riku finally said, as sappy as it was. “Promise.”
“Even if I make you half-bald?” Sora suggested. Riku groaned.
“I asked for a little trim. That word’s not too hard for you, is it?”
“Don’t wanna anger me while I’m holding the scissors!” Sora snipped them into the air for dramatic effect. “Your hair is in my hands, Riku! Remember that.”
Riku decided it was in his best interest to shut up. He let Sora focus on the task at hand, imagining the way his brow would furrow slightly (though even if it did completely, it was hard to make his eyes ever small) and how his teeth would catch on his bottom lip in concentration. Sora was far quieter than usual, clearly focused on Riku’s hair. Riku was glad this was something Sora was devoting his attention to.
It made Riku feel slightly tense, sitting and waiting and leaving his- well, his hair in Sora’s hands, but he closed his eyes and willed his breath to steady. He might feel vulnerable like this, only able to listen to Sora’s even breathing and the occasional snip of the scissors, but that was alright. He trusted Sora like no one else. He trusted Sora more than he trusted himself.
Riku let that trust keep him afloat, waiting patiently as Sora cut away the weight on his head. He didn’t even stir at the occasional oops that Sora let loose- though he probably should’ve- staying perfectly still except for Sora’s occasional request, tilting his head to and fro.
All in all, Riku felt strangely relaxed when Sora stepped away and announced he was done.
“How does it feel?” Sora asked. Riku exhaled. His head felt lighter than ever, almost weightless; like it could just float away.
It felt new, and strange, but so did every other part of his body these days.
“Great,” he said. “Thanks, Sora.”
Sora’s hand tilted down to ruffle through Riku’s hair. Riku had to look away, then, set aflame by the adoring look on Sora’s face.
“Y’know, I think I could get used to this,” Sora said thoughtfully. “It makes you look cuter.”
“Cuter?” Riku sputtered.
“Yeah! Like when we were little,” Sora said. Before everything went wrong, Riku’s brain unhelpfully clarified.
Riku’s head was tugged to the side.
“Gah!” Riku cried out. “What was that for?!”
Why was Sora pulling his hair?!
“Don’t get in your head like that.” Sora pouted. “C’mon, Riku. I’m right here.”
“So am I,” Riku grumbled. “Your Riku, at least.”
That made Sora beam. Riku was struck with the overwhelming need to reciprocate, to give Sora back the comfort and warmth he radiated a thousandfold.
Sora had to know that it wasn’t just him. Riku wanted to be together, too- if it was possible.
“You really don’t mind me?” Riku asked, hating how pathetic and needy it sounded. “Even after everything that’s happened?”
Sora’s easygoing expression melted into a glare. “Don’t make me pull your hair again. Why would I kiss you if I did?”
It was a good point. Riku tugged Sora forwards, closer, settling him into the same chair Riku was seated in, on top of Riku’s lap.
“I never know why you do the things you do,” Riku said coyly. Sora wound his arms around Riku’s shoulders, looking down at him.
“I told you! I just follow my heart,” Sora protested, even as he pressed his forehead against Riku’s, eyes sliding shut.
“And I’m what your heart wants?” Riku asked.
Sora’s eyes opened again, flooding Riku with all the blue in the sky and sea. “You’re all it’s ever wanted.”
This time, Riku kissed him. He felt it in every part of his body, rushing through him like a warm drink, and like that brief moment when he had first ridden to shore, he felt at home again.