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Being dead is much harder than Riku thought it would be.
The first month was bliss. Bliss, to lie down next to Sora at the end of a long day. Bliss, to wake up warm beside him, to hear him mumble in his sleep.
But bliss only gets you so far. It doesn't cover rent, and you can't eat it, either. Riku's body doesn't get many miles to the gallon in this world. He pulls shifts at the convenience store, stocks shelves, and delivers takeaway on his motorbike. Their magic is weaker here, which means supplementing the usual end-of-day cura with ibuprofen. Pain, like bliss, is as constant as a heartbeat. Always just around the corner.
Of course, in the afterlife, the grim reaper is never far, either.
He shows up while Riku is cooking dinner. If Sora and Strelitzia had it their way, they'd eat convenience store food for every meal. But being the oldest person present (at least physically) gives Riku an odd sense of responsibility, so he tries to make something with green stuff at least once a week.
Tonight it's stir-fried rice with green onions. Riku has just finished doling out two portions into bowls when the apartment door opens and Death itself walks in, stomping snow off his boots.
"Yozora!" Sora says from the couch, where he's been attempting to patch Riku's leather jacket with a needle and thread.
Riku's hand twitches under the kitchen counter, moments from summoning Braveheart. As if on cue, the intruder turns and fixes him with impossible eyes. Cosplay, or edgy bastard?
(Once, when Riku was little, he saw his pet cat startle itself in a mirror. A moment later she was twice as big, fur standing on end, rigid as a bow.)
Yozora looks at Riku.
Riku looks at Yozora.
Sora looks at the fried rice and says, "Uh. I think we need another plate."
"Strel won't be back for a while." Sora gestures for Yozora to sit at the card table they use as a makeshift dining area. "She's working a double tonight."
In the kitchen, Riku silently removes spoonfuls of rice from his portion and drops them onto a third dish. He puts the food on the bar, along with three spoons, three cups of hot water, and three packets of instant soup.
There are only two bottles of tea left in the refrigerator. Riku hesitates, then puts these on the bar, too.
"Aw, Riku, I'll share with you," Sora says when he sees Riku's glass of tap water. "Yozora, you haven't met Riku yet. He only got here a month ago. We're not really sure how… But anyway, he's a Keyblade Wielder, too! He's my best friend."
As Sora chatters he ferries things from the bar to the card table. Yozora follows him with those odd eyes. They remind Riku of the red-and-blue paper glasses Sora wore when he read comic books, back when they were kids– Bring the Adventure to Life With MAGIC 3D Specs!
"--so me and Strel wondered when you were gonna show up again. It's been kind of quiet since that last one in Akihabara. Riku? Are you going to sit?"
Sora pulls out the chair directly across from Yozora.
Riku sits. He keeps holding his glass of water, for something to do. In it he can see himself, Sora, and Yozora, reflected and warped in miniature.
"So, Riku, this is Yozora. He's kind of…" Sora taps his lips with his spoon. "In charge of this city? You know, how Hiro looks after San Fransokyo?"
Riku nods.
"Right, like that. He's a good guy. He saved me from some Heartless right after I ended up here. Man, I was out of shape back then…"
Yozora is looking at the dishes Sora set before him like he's never seen tableware before. His hands in their gloves grip the edges of the folding chair, as though gravity could cease working any moment and send them all flying. For all that's familiar about him–his hair, his clothes, his dirty boots on the clean floor Riku mopped only yesterday–Riku has the fleeting impression of sitting down to dinner with an alien.
"Sora," Yozora interrupts. "I found another nest of Shadows in Odaiba, at DiverCity."
His voice is low, controlled–deeper than Sora's but lighter than Riku's. He barely moves his mouth when he talks
"The place with the giant Gundam?!" Sora exclaims, dropping his spoon and sending grains of rice flying across the table.
"...Yes. Can you–"
"We'll go," Sora says immediately. "Right, Riku?"
Riku picks a grain of rice off his own arm and puts it into his bowl. He sips water (the image of Yozora sitting across from him trembles, melts, reorganizes itself) and clears his throat. "I'm not sure I follow. What does that have to do with us?"
Sora looks confused. "Well, we fight Heartless, don't we? It's kind of our job."
"Yes," Riku says patiently, because it's Sora. "But how does this guy know about them? Why is he telling us to fight them? Why can't he do it himself? Why should we trust him?"
"Riku," Sora admonishes, glancing anxiously at their silent guest. "I told you, Yozora is a good guy. Sorry, Yozora. Riku is just–really cautious."
Riku's cautiousness has as much impact on Yozora as a wave crashing against a rock. "So you'll take care of it," is all he says after a moment, in that strange, flat affect. It's not a request or even a question.
Sora frowns. "Of course we will."
"Fine." Yozora pushes himself back from the table and stands. "I'm going, then."
Riku stays where he is. Odd Eyes can see himself out. He had no trouble letting himself in, after all.
It's par for the course, apparently, because Sora doesn't try to stop him. Just fidgets in his chair, still frowning, eyes glued to Yozora's retreating back. How many times have they done this?
There's a piece of rice stuck to Sora's cheek.
"Hey–Riku, get off, I'm not a kid–"
"Then why do you eat like one?"
Riku dodges a flailing arm and pops the stray grain into his own mouth. He does it instinctively, without much thought, until he notices Yozora watching them from the doorway.
(See Hidden Objects! Read in AWESOME X-Ray Vision!)
This time Riku doesn't freeze. "Need something?" he demands, pushing himself to his feet despite the twinge in his lower back.
Yozora's lip quirks. When he's gone the room feels brighter.
Later, after dishes and a quick tumble to get the lead out, Riku remembers the burnable trash. He leaves Sora sticky and snoozing in their bed, shrugs on his coat, and grabs the bag Strelitzia left in the genkan that morning. When he opens the door the first thing he sees is a large, snow-and-mud boot print on the welcome mat–right over the w and the e.