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When Sora returned to himself in the Keyblade Graveyard, he felt like he could just collapse.
His head was swimming, still adrift in an endless sky where fragments of himself floated by and the floor bled into the ceilings and walls. Sora’s eyes were finally dry now, but they still stung with every tear he’d cried. His throat still bore the marks of every scream that had clawed its way out.
Sora shook his head. None of that mattered now, though, as distant as if it were just a bad dream. Sora had made it back. He’d done it. He’d found everyone’s hearts, and returned them to their owners, turning back the clock and bringing them from the brink of defeat.
Everyone was here and accounted for. The hopelessness strangling his heart was just a memory. Sora’s friends were back, they were alive, and they could do this. This time, they could defeat Xehanort.
And yet, even so, something violent was tearing its way through Sora’s brain. He heard the echoes of cries cut short as the darkness swallowed his friends whole. The sight of the rocky plains was burnt into his retinas, sickeningly blank and empty as Sora stood alone amidst howling wind. Sora felt like even the effort of holding himself upright was an elaborate act, like he was lying to his friends by holding in the screams and tears. How could he look them in the eyes when he had just seen them all die?
They had no idea. As far as they knew, this was their first time walking through the craggy mountain path, left blissfully ignorant to everything that awaited them on the other side. Sora knew things would be better, this time, that Naminé had helped Terra somehow and that was enough to give them a fighting chance, but the pressure was building and Sora was struggling not to fold.
It was like being trapped in one of his nightmares, stuck reliving the same tragedy over and over again. Every step felt like yet another death sentence. Sora had to force himself to keep moving, keep going, but his feet clung to the dusty ground like it could keep him steady.
What was the matter with him? He had his friends back. They were his power. He’d saved them, so everything was fine now, right?
Sora couldn’t help but feel like something had snapped inside of him, something that couldn’t ever be repaired to how it used to be. He knew now that they could die. Even if they won, some of his friends might not make it.
It seemed like a stupid revelation to have, considering everything that had happened, but Sora had never really worried about it. They had been through so much that confidence had solidified in Sora’s brain. Only an hour ago, it had been unthinkable to even worry one of them might die. They were too good, too powerful, and had survived too much.
Was their luck running out?
“Hey, earth to Sora.”
A fist knocked against Sora’s head, a playful little blow that snapped him right out of his worries.
“Huh?” Sora asked. When his eyes came up from the ground, he could only see Riku- again. Panic shot through him again. It was too soon, wasn’t it-?!
As Sora’s head whipped around in a frenzy, he saw the rest of the group up ahead. Sora exhaled a lungful of relief, feeling somehow like in his silly moment of crisis he’d run several laps. It wasn’t happening again. There was a simple explanation. Sora must’ve just slowed down while he was busy thinking, and fallen behind the rest of them.
Riku had stayed near him, though, watching with knowing green eyes.
“What’s got you thinking like that?” He asked, with a teasing lilt in his words. “That’s not the Sora I know.”
He couldn’t possibly have known or meant it, but the sentiment was just too familiar to bear.
Sora, you don't believe that. I know you don't.
Sora felt frozen in place, eyes thrown wide and glassy as the memory overtook his senses. Riku had been worst of all. Everyone else disappeared too quickly to even notice, horrifying in its own right, but Riku had fought and struggled. He’d held back the demon tide singlehandedly by sheer force of determination alone.
He could’ve run. He could’ve fought. He should’ve done either. Instead he only stood there, content to die a human shield if it meant protecting Sora.
How could Sora ever explain? How could he tell Riku that he’d watched him die, that he’d sat there uselessly as darkness tore Riku apart, that Riku hadn’t been killed but chose to die, anything to protect Sora?
Sora didn’t want it. He couldn’t take this anymore- Riku staying behind to close the door to darkness, Riku giving up his body and protecting Sora from the shadows, Riku becoming a dream eater to protect Sora from his own nightmares. Sora didn’t want any more sacrifices. He wanted them all to survive.
He just wanted Riku to stay with him.
“Sora?”
Sora blinked. He hadn’t even realized Riku was still waiting for a reply. Worry had taken over Riku’s features, crimping and twisting him.
There was nothing Sora wanted less than to be fretted over now, by Riku. There was nothing Sora wanted less than for Riku to start thinking he was weak, that he needed protection, that Riku needed to do something drastic.
“I dunno,” was all Sora could muster. He wanted to lie to Riku, but such a thing seemed impossible, like his body itself would revolt against him. Truthfully, he had no idea what he was feeling, or how to sort through it; only that his mind kept replaying the same scene over and over again, watching as Riku’s strength was sapped from him, as the small sliver of him that remained disappeared into the darkness because he would do anything to protect Sora.
Riku’s sigh was a pleasant one, too light to be truly frustrated.
“Talk to me, Sora.” He said, the thin veneer of a casual tone unable to mask the insistence bubbling underneath. Sora wasn’t getting away without answering him. “There’s no way we can win while you’re like this.”
That was true. Sora was only more of a burden now, unfocused and undetermined.
Still, Sora shook his head. He didn’t think he could properly hide the pain and anxiety he was feeling, especially not in front of Riku. Sora stuck out like a sore thumb in their little group. They were all prepared for the final battle, but Sora was already worn out, both from the struggle against the darkness and from the chase around the Final World.
He couldn’t help but stare as Riku kicked up into a jog, leaving Sora unsteady in his dust. It wasn’t like Riku to give up so quickly, but then again, he’d rushed up and begun talking to the King. A nagging fear began to bite at Sora, the worry that Riku was telling the King about his strange behavior, that he would be interrogated in front of everyone. His hands quivered slightly, and Sora balled them into fists to stop the shaking.
He waited for the King to turn and ask him something kind, but pointed, rehearsed different I’m fine’s in his head. His heart thumped as everyone slowly broke apart, stuttered slightly as they sat on dusty rocks and leant against the walls.
Oh. Riku had only asked for a break.
It was both a blessing and a curse. The group interrogation would’ve been more embarrassing, sure, but ultimately the truth would be harder to keep from Riku alone than from everyone at once.
Even though Sora braced himself, Riku didn’t ask when he returned to Sora. He just held out a water bottle, a silent peace offering.
Sora didn’t have a reason not to take it. He slumped down onto the boulder behind him, and took a long drink. Maybe some water would help clear his head.
Unlikely. Sora just kept staring even as he drank, eyes locked point-blank onto Riku. A weirdly defeatist part of him was trying to memorize what Riku looked like, just in case things went wrong again. Just in case they didn’t get another do-over. Just in case this was the last time he’d ever see Riku.
The thought had water go down the wrong way. Sora pulled the bottle from his lips, hunching over and coughing. Riku was there for him in seconds, patting his back reassuringly.
The fit passed quickly. Riku drew away again. The way he looked down at Sora from where he stood, brows knit, reminded Sora of getting in trouble at school.
“So,” Riku said, not quite casual. “What’s got you bent all out of shape?”
It looked like there really was no way of getting out of this. Sora sighed, defeated, powerless under the might of Riku’s gentle and caring insistence.
“We already lost,” Sora admitted. Riku just smiled, reassuring.
“Now you sound like me.” He said, with a tilt of his head forwards. “Aren’t you always calling me a pessimist?”
Sora did always say that Riku gave up too quickly, but pessimist was more Riku’s word than Sora’s. When Sora got on his case, he usually called Riku gloomy or a total quitter.
Riku was still right, however. Sora never gave up.
“I’m not saying that because I’m nervous,” Sora said with a shake of his head. “It’s because this is the second time I’ve been here. We lost, the first.”
It was an outlandish thing to claim, but Sora knew Riku would believe him effortlessly.
“What…?” Riku asked. His expression dropped into grave seriousness in the blink of an eye. “What happened, Sora?”
Sora shook his head again, more vigorous this time. “It was too fast. The demon tide just swept everyone away. I couldn’t do anything.”
It was half true. Most of the deaths had been too quick to register. Riku’s, however, was different.
His eyes burned into Sora. It was like being set on fire.
“I watched you die, Riku,” Sora finally said.
“And everyone else, too.” Riku pushed back, gently, only defensive in the barest sense.
“I didn’t really see everyone else. You were the one who…” Sora’s voice broke. This was impossible to explain. He couldn’t possibly convey it to Riku, watching him with such attentive eyes, so he looked down. “You were the last to die. You held them back to protect me.”
Sora had to carefully detach meaning from the words to say them at all, but hearing himself say it brought everything rushing back in full force. Why? Why had Riku done that? Why was he always sacrificing himself, throwing everything away for Sora’s sake? Did he ever think about how it made Sora feel?
Riku leaned back against the rock face, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes closed, and he schooled his face carefully, and he decided to say exactly what Sora had been dreading.
“Doesn’t sound like a bad death.”
“No!” Sora shouted. All of his energy returned to him, flooding every vein and muscle in his body. Riku jumped a little, startled.
“Huh?!”
“There is no good death! I didn’t want you to die at all, Riku!” Sora could feel it all collapsing on top of him, choking him and crushing him. Riku still looked alarmed.
“I saved your life, Sora,” Riku protested. There was something new behind his eyes now- pride? Relief? Why would he be feeling that?
“I never asked you to.” Sora turned his face away, eyes stinging. He didn’t know why this hurt so much. He knew that Riku cared about him, that he was noble, that he would always do the right thing. This, however, just didn’t feel right.
“C’mon, Sora, are you really upset about this?” Riku protested. “How do you think I’d feel, if I knew I could’ve saved you, but didn’t?”
Sora didn’t even know how to respond to that.
Riku’s hand wrapped around Sora’s as Riku crouched down beside him. Riku lifted the limb and Sora didn’t protest, even as he pressed the back of Sora’s hand to his face.
“I’d do anything for you, Sora,” Riku said, emphatically, truthfully. It hurt just about as much as when Sora had actually died.
“I don’t want to be the reason you’re dead,” Sora said weakly, taking back his hand from Riku’s hold.
He also didn’t want Riku to be dead at all, couldn’t imagine a world without him. Sora remembered how it had felt when he woke up in Twilight Town after that year asleep. He remembered not knowing where Riku was, or if he was even alright. He’d felt so lost, then, completely hollowed out.
With Sora pulling away, Riku stepped back obediently, leaning back against the wall. Riku stared at him, then, expression unreadable. It felt almost uncanny, to see Riku and not instantly understand what he was thinking.
“Isn’t it my responsibility?” Riku finally asked. “I’ve hurt you so much. I’ve got to make things right. If that means sacrificing myself…”
“I don’t care about that.” Sora wrapped his arms around himself, shivering slightly. “You’ve already proven that you’re good, Riku. I never believed you weren’t! I don’t need you to do this for me.”
Riku turned his face away, brusque. “You’re too forgiving.”
There was just no convincing Riku, it seemed. Sora didn’t know what to do, anymore, knowing that it hadn’t been a spur-of-the-moment decision. This was what Riku would always chose, if given the opportunity.
It made Sora feel worse than useless.
“You told me…” Sora swallowed, words weighing heavy in his mouth. “You told me not to give up on myself, just before…”
The silence spoke volumes. Riku flinched.
“…but I don’t know if I can go on, without you.” Sora admitted. It felt like wrenching at his chest and laying his heart bare, but it was the truth. He needed his friends. He needed Riku.
Riku might not understand, but Sora had to say it. Even if it was only for himself, for whatever forces of the universe were paying attention to the keyblade wielder, Sora had to say it.
“…I’m sorry,” Riku said softly, so quiet Sora had to strain to hear it. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he’d imagined it. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Riku apologize before. It just wasn’t his way.
“Huh?” Sora asked.
Riku looked like a statue like this, motionless, with his head tilted upwards. Sora couldn’t see his expression or eyes, just the strong curve of his jaw.
“I always thought it would be the right thing to do, if it came to that. I thought I’d do anything so you could live.” Riku said. “You matter to me more than anything, Sora.”
“Living isn’t all that matters to me.” Sora answered. “You do, too.”
Riku’s chin came down slightly. There was a smile there, now, though it was half grimace still. “Hard to have both.”
Sora knew. Wasn’t that how their dance had gone, for all these years? Riku was always somewhere else, with someone else, watching Sora or searching for him or protecting him from afar. He treated himself like he was expendable, like he didn’t even matter, like he didn’t even deserve to be near Sora.
It wasn’t fair.
“I just want to be with you, Riku.” Sora said. That was the simple truth of it. He didn’t want any more chases, or games, or secrets between them- just him, and Riku, and both of them together and safe. They could win if they worked together, if Riku didn’t give up on himself.
He hoped his eyes said all of that, because his throat was far too dry to. He couldn’t even imagine how to put the bursting in his chest into words, much less words that would convince Riku when Riku was always bigger, faster, stronger, smarter, more.
Riku sighed. He grunted a little as he pushed away from the rock face, then leaned down and pressed his lips to Sora’s.
It was nothing, really, a small peck; and his lips were dry from the dusty air and he tasted like the tea he’d drank earlier to calm his nerves. Still, it was soothing like nothing else was, feeling the heat of Riku so near, smelling his scent of leather and faint sea-salt, melting under the hand gripping Sora’s shoulder securely.
“I said hard, not impossible,” Riku murmured against Sora’s lips. “You always do pull off miracles, Sora.”