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This is the first time in Riku’s life that he didn’t want to know where Sora was.
Usually, Riku just always knew where Sora was. More often than not, the answer turned out to be right next to him. He would be poking Riku with a stick or laughing loudly in Riku’s ear about a joke that wasn’t quite funny but meant the world to Sora (and therefore meant the world to Riku). Sometimes, Sora was sleeping.
Lately, he was off saving the world. Riku knew Sora was needed elsewhere and that a thousand other worlds were waiting somewhere beyond the horizon for help, but he couldn’t help but feel bitter about it. Just one day. He wanted his best friend back for one day.
Yet for the last year, Riku hasn’t known where Sora’s been. Riku could handle the guilt that came with ruining Sora’s life. He had handled that guilt, had broken it down into smaller wafts of darkness that he could slowly begin to accept: this was his jealousy; this was his rage; this was his grief. These were all his feelings that he could slowly reintegrate into his soul. These were all things he could handle.
But he couldn’t handle not knowing where Sora was.
After a year of searching, he finally had a lead—and now, Riku stands in an apartment that he knows Sora was in but finds nothing here but a fading will to go on.
The walls are bare, nothing like Sora’s childhood room in Destiny Islands (Riku irrationally wonders if Sora ever had the time to visit before he had to leave all over again), and the furniture is bland, and the lights are white and robotic. It’s nothing like his energetic, cheery Sora, and Riku could feel that.
He could feel that Sora was overcome with the same grief that Riku had. But no one told Sora to let it be, not to pick at it like a scab you wanted nothing to do with, not like how Mickey encouraged Riku. No one told Sora to just be, to not force himself to be energetic and cheery. If anything, from what Riku remembers from Sora’s accounts of his time with Donald and Goofy, it was the opposite.
Now, here Riku stands in this room all alone with only the lingering feeling of Sora’s grief.
He doesn’t want to know where Sora is. His heart can’t handle the answer.
But his heart can’t handle Sora being hurt and him doing nothing about it.
He doesn’t want to know where Sora is. He needs to know where Sora is.
There’s a crash beyond the living room. Training coming in handy, Riku’s body immediately goes into position and summons his keyblade. The silver gleams in the lights of the room as Riku crosses it, hand firmly wrapped around the handle. He makes his way to what he assumes is a kitchen from the appliances, but it’s equally as empty, and—
Braveheart disappears in a flourish of light as Riku rushes to crouch next to a quivering girl, head buried in her knees. He places a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he calls out as softly as he can manage, even if he’s aching to scream for Sora.
The girl takes a moment before lifting her head, orange bangs falling over her red-rimmed eyes. Her cheeks are blotchy, a cruel contrast to her pale freckled skin, to her elegant white dress adorned with black ribbons. “I can’t,” she whimpers, her voice shaking along with her head. “I-I can’t. Not again.”
“You can’t, what?” Riku pushes. There’s that nagging voice in his head calling out for Sora, Sora, Sora, and Riku knows, he knows more than anything that he needs to find Sora. But this girl needs help, so shut up.
“I’ve had to watch this before,” she tries to explain, her palms lifting to futilely wipe away tears that kept freely spilling. “And I couldn’t do anything for him… I can’t watch this again… I-I can’t just… He’s my friend. I can’t save him.”
Riku has learned that coincidences don't exist. He wills the hand on her shoulder to stay soft. “What’s your friend's name?”
The girl looks up at him, the color of her eyes obscured by her tears. Her face morphs into something akin to pain. “Oh,” she whispers. “I know you.”
Riku’s heart lurches in his throat. “Please, what’s your friend’s name?”
“It was terrifying the first time,” she says. “I d-don’t blame him. I know why it happened.”
“His name?” Riku pleads.
“But I can’t bear it. Not to him.”
“To who?”
“Your friend.”
Riku’s breathing matches hers, coming out in short, shaky bursts. He shakes his head, forcing his lip into a thin line. “What’s your name?”
“Strelitzia. And…you’re Riku. He would t-talk about you a lot.”
“Where is he?” Riku barely breathes out. Strelitzia’s eyes flutter shut like she’s going to pass out, so Riku gently shakes her. She doesn’t seem physically hurt but Riku’s having trouble focusing—there’s so much of Sora’s grief here. Riku wonders if he can sense it because he’s Sora’s Dream Eater or because he’s Sora’s, from the day they met until the day he died. But he can sense every bit of it, and he can’t imagine what happened. What Sora said. What Sora did to scare Strelitzia so much. “Where is Sora?”
The name is like poison to Strelitzia and she sits up, hand latching on to Riku’s on her shoulder. “You’re a Keyblade Wielder,” she says in a jumble, shifting forward to her knees. “And you’re his friend. Please, Riku. I-I can’t help him, but I can’t lose another friend to darkness. Go, please.”
“Go where?”
“Outside! You’ll need to—”
Whatever warning Strelitzia has falls upon deaf ears, because Riku flips his hand to squeeze Strelitzia’s, before rushing to his feet. Strelitzia is a thousand unanswered questions but Riku has the answer he needs the most.
Outside.
They used to dream of going outside. Of seeing the world out there. It made the suffocation of the islands a lot harder for Riku and made it all the more freeing when he got out but for Sora… Sora who couldn’t stop laughing, smiling, even when he was in the middle of crying…
If seeing the world saved Riku, did it doom Sora?
(Or was Sora just always doomed?)
(No. Sora is beautiful.)
Riku summons Braveheart, makes it back to the living room of this dull lifeless apartment, pushes open the door to the patio, and wastes not a single second before rushing over the edge. He can feel Sora all around him. Sora had done this. Sora had been here. Sora had fought here. Sora, Sora, Sora, the thoughts chase Riku until he hits the ground and he’s off running again.
When Riku hits the ground, he’s overwhelmed by an incessant murder of his senses. The buildings of the city stretch overhead, trapping him in the emotions and Riku has no choice but to keep going.
His entire life, Riku’s been chasing Sora’s light. And still, he feels Sora, he’s still chasing after him. There are abandoned cars all around him. Riku glances into the windows of shops and sees people cowering under tables, holding each other. He can’t even catch their clothes or their hair, but he sees all their expression, their fear spilling into the street.
Maneuvering around the abandoned buildings, Riku turns at an intersection, closer and closer to Sora. There’s screaming now, getting louder and louder with every pump of his legs. The sky is turning from a brilliant blue to black, storm clouds swirling and sucking all light. Riku’s always been chasing Sora’s light, but this time—
Riku’s legs give in.
He finds Sora at the end of the street.
After a year of searching, fighting, and yearning, he finds Sora.
On his knees, Riku finds Sora and he can’t move.
He doesn’t even know how he recognized this creature as his Sora. Maybe it’s because he would recognize Sora in any form, in any lifetime. Even with black skin, shadows curled around him like ribbons, like tentacles, like tendrils of pain. Even on all fours, letting out wild howls of pain.
Even as a monster. He’s at the end of this long street, but so clearly can Riku see the yellow in his eyes, see them widen and contort in rage; no, in fear. Is it both?
Riku wishes that was all—he doesn’t even have time to wish, because there's the screaming again, the crashing of buildings, and Riku has to force himself back on his feet, gripping his keyblade tightly.
There’s a heartless behind Sora, as tall as the buildings. It’s vaguely human-shaped being two-legged and two-armed, but it has a massive heart-shaped gap in what should be its stomach, sharpened feet and fingers, protruding horns curving to the heavens and protruding wings curving down to hell; and of course, matching yellow eyes. ‘Demon’ is the only word Riku can think of to describe the heartless, but his mind stutters.
Riku could find Sora anywhere. Riku would find Sora anywhere. And Riku knows that this heartless is a part of Sora. Its arm lashes out at a building alongside the piercing screech of this Sora. Riku hasn’t just been chasing Sora and his grief; Riku’s been chasing Sora’s darkness.
After another howl, Sora looks up. Their eyes lock.
Riku isn’t allowed to hesitate at the glare Sora gives him because people are getting hurt and he knows Sora wouldn’t be able to bear that guilt. So Riku’s feet are pumping across the street, every step leading him further and further into this storm and farther and farther from the light.
A part of Riku expects Sora to just stand there, but Riku knows Sora’s temper better than that. The moment Sora realizes that Riku’s running, he is too. The heartless keeps tearing apart the city and Riku can’t look because he has to bring up his keyblade, deflecting Sora’s claws.
Claws. Fucking claws.
With a shout, Riku flings off Sora and sends him crashing to a wall. It sends crashing waves of guilt over Riku. “Sora!” he shouts, holding on to his keyblade so tightly his fingers may bruise and bleed. “Sora, what are you doing!”
Riku knows Sora’s tenacity better than that. Sora hits the ground and the wall cracks behind him, but then he’s back on his feet, rushing at Riku. Riku’s keyblade manages to deflect another one of Sora’s swipes, but he’s relentless, pushing Riku back. He moves his left hand to hold the front of the blade, trying to shove Sora back, but Sora manages to trip him onto his back.
The keyblade serves as the only barrier between him and Sora (Sora, Sora, oh fucking Sora, what happened to you?), and Sora tries to fucking bite Riku. He jams the blade widthwise between Sora’s teeth, and the darkness nearly suffocates Riku, taking all his body heat and replacing it with despair.
“Sora!” he yells again, his voice quivering. He can’t hurt Sora. He can’t push Sora off him. How the fuck could he do that? “Sora, this isn’t you!”
Sora’s teeth are trying to break his keyblade, and Riku shakes his head. “Sora, please, just tell me what happened!”
Riku dissipates his keyblade, making Sora’s teeth clamp shut and his body topples forward. Riku grabs Sora’s shoulders and flips them over. He summons Braveheart once again to press against Sora’s shoulders, holding him down as he begins to thrash.
Green-blue eyes meeting yellow ones, Riku desperately tries to find any signs of Sora, anything to latch on to and pull him out, but Sora’s lost in his darkness. Not releasing his hold, Riku tosses a glance over his shoulder to see the heartless approach from down the street, crashing into another building.
The way it's moving, staggering and unconfident unlike how a heartless should have its drive set to one single, tangible desire… The building collapses beneath its hand, walls crumbling down and hitting the street. Dust and debris follows in its wake, leaving the ground shaking. It almost looks remorseful. It almost looks like it’s in pain.
Riku can’t fight Sora, but Sora and this heartless are connected. Riku could certainly fight heartless.
Moving the keyblade up, Riku manages to force Sora to his feet and swing him to the side, just enough so he can turn and start running. The heartless doesn’t stop its all-encompassing goal of destruction, even with Riku at its feet.
Riku doesn’t bother wasting magic on it; he’ll need to save any cures he can for Sora, if—when he gets his Sora back. Instead, he jumps onto a blue sedan and uses it to leap onto a protruding beam. It’s thin, not made for climbing, but it’s high enough to let Riku begin his climb.
Keyblade dissolving, Riku sets about scaling the side of the building, fingers digging into the crevices between each window. The ground beneath him furthers and furthers, and even if he had a fear of heights, it wouldn’t have mattered. Nothing except that he needs to fight this heartless before this Sora learns how to climb walls. He needs to fight this heartless so he can find his Sora.
Riku reaches for the roof’s edge and pulls himself up. On shaky legs, Riku looks back and—
He barely has enough time to react to the heartless swinging its arms right into the floor below him, stealing a shout from him. The building crumbles but before he can fall, Riku kicks off the roof and onto the arm. He summons his keyblade and slams it into the flesh like a pickaxe in a mountain. Like a cold, weary traveler, Riku scales the side of its arm, and its other hand goes to swat at Riku.
Nothing can deter him. Riku kicks it away and continues his way until he finally makes it to the shoulder of the heartless. Dislodging his keyblade one last time, Riku runs forward as the heartless turns its head. It would be so easy for Riku to start casting spells. It would be so easy for Riku to let out an onslaught of attacks.
But this heartless is Sora. So once the head faces him, Riku slams his keyblade into the center of the flesh and presses his head against the darkness. He hears himself screaming before he feels it and—
My friends.
They’re gone. They’re…all gone.
No…I’m gone. I’m here all alone.
I have you, right? I’ll be alright. We’ll figure it out.
We’ll figure it out!
We’ll figure it out.
I’m scared.
We’ll figure it out.
We haven’t figured anything out.
What am I doing here? Why am I still here?
Why?
I want to go home.
I don’t want to keep fighting anymore.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,
I hate this, I hate this, I hate this,
I hate that my friends aren’t here, I hate that I’m all alone, I hate that I’m so helpless!
I want someone to save me…
Please… Please, I’m scared…
I need my friends…
I’m nothing without them…
Riku? Can you hear me?
Riku? Please?
Riku?...
Donald?... Goofy?...
Kairi? Roxas? Ventus? Xion? Anyone?
Please…
Guys…
Are you at least okay? If… If you guys are okay, then…I’m okay with this… Riku clutches his head
I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, Riku lets go of his keyblade
please, someone, please SOMEONE, LISTEN TO ME, and Riku falls to the ground. He barely manages to activate a barrier, stopping him from slamming against the bare pavement. Still, he groans, but he doesn’t have a second to catch his breath.
The heartless above him howls in pain and Riku feels its pain. It's horribly off-key and off-putting, shattering the windows in the buildings it hasn’t destroyed. It keeps shouting, shouting, and shouting, slowly fading away into nothingness, and Riku covers his ears, the sound piercing through his brain, his skull, his heart, his chest, his throat.
I’m sorry, he wants to tell Sora. I’m sorry you were here all alone—
And then, there Sora is, ready to be told.
Sora tackles Riku, trying to get up, and claws scratch at Riku’s face, drawing blood. Riku bites back his scream and brings up his legs to kick Sora off. Free from Sora (what an awful thought), Riku rushes to his feet, nearly toppling over while holding the flesh beneath his eye, now adorning three deep gashes.
In front of him, Sora readies for another attack. The heartless above them continues to howl, begging for someone to listen.
In front of him, Sora leaps—
Riku drops his keyblade and lets Sora hit him to the ground.
Muttering a small cura, Riku lets Sora tear his skin. Riku lets the claws sink into his skin, tearing him apart. The pain burns enough to have Riku’s nails dig into his own palms, to have him draw blood all on his own. I want to be listened to, Sora begged, and here Riku is, ready to listen.
Sora is about to swipe again when he sees that Riku makes no move to defend himself, no move to fight Sora. He moves to crouch, letting out a growl, black tendrils curling around Riku to create a dome of darkness around them. Cold emerges, enveloping the two of them.
Fight me! Sora seems to beg. Please, I need to be good at something! Please… Please, fight me!
Riku can’t hurt Sora. Riku could never hurt Sora and the screeching dies out above them. Did the heartless fade away? Riku doesn’t know. Sora glances up and lets out a screech of his own, claws turning to its nearest target, falling back and away from Riku.
Sora scratches at his own cheeks and lets out cry after cry, his grief becoming so thick that Riku can’t think straight. Oh, Sora, Riku wants to say. What have you done to yourself?
Gently, Riku reaches up and grabs Sora’s wrists. Sora struggles for a bit, but Riku is firm. He’s always firm when it comes to keeping Sora safe. It’s hard to see any blood through the darkness around Sora, but Riku can feel hurt dripping from him. “Sora,” he says, the name a prayer on his lips. “Do you feel this, Sora? Do you feel my warmth?”
Sora lets out a cry, trying to yank his wrists back. Riku doesn’t let him, sitting him and moving to his knees. He doesn’t remember to whisper a cura for his wounds, too busy holding on to Riku.
“Yeah, you do,” he continues. “Because you’re alive. And it hurts, I know. But aren’t you the one who says that’s what it takes to be human? Isn’t it supposed to hurt like hell?” Sora tries to pull back, and Riku pulls him closer. Sora falls forward to his knees, shaking. “Isn’t it supposed to break you down and force you to build yourself up?”
Sora’s always tended to not think clearly when he’s angry. This isn’t rage. His sadness makes the dome of darkness around them even colder, and Riku doesn’t even think of shivering. “Is that what this is all about? You not loving yourself? Thinking you’re not strong?”
Sora finally wrenches away from Riku, falling onto his back. He lets out another howl before he’s back on his feet, crouched with hands on the ground to steady him, glaring at Riku, yellow eyes flickering between their color and red. The dome expands, his grief pouring out. His claws retract and extend, retract and extend, and Riku slowly moves to his feet.
Sora’s like a scared animal. Riku remembers when they were kids, how Sora would get scared at storms. How Sora would hide under blankets, would beg for it to stop. Riku remembered that all Sora needed then was a friend. All Sora needed was someone by his side.
And god fucking kill Riku if he is anything but at Sora’s side.
He holds his hands up, never daring to summon his keyblade. He can’t use it against Sora, never again. “I’m sorry, Sora, but…it’s going to keep hurting,” Riku promises. Sora flinches back. “I know. It’ll eat you up and make everything dull. That’s just your darkness, Sora. That’s yours. That’s a part of being human. But you’re not alone. You’re not helpless. And you’re so, so far from being nothing.”
He forces one hand down so Sora can’t see it clenching and take it as a threat. Riku’s resolve and desperation fuels him. “Don’t you dare think that about yourself, Sora. Don’t you dare think that about my friend, who’s strong and capable, and just so lonely. My friend who’s coming home. My friend who’s still in there—so please, Sora, come out!”
Riku should’ve expected the panicked Sora to jump again. The two of them tumble into the ground, and Riku wraps his arms around Sora while Sora tries to scratch him again, trying to scratch a fight out of him.
He’s not listening. Out of all of Sora’s traits, this is one of his most endearing. He wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t give up. Sora isn’t someone who would stop fighting; but, then again, isn’t that what he did? He got scared without his friends. He stopped fighting because he didn’t think he could fight anymore. He thought that he was dead and there was nothing worth fighting for.
There’s so much about Sora Riku doesn’t know.
There’s so much that Riku needs to hold him for, so Riku now squeezes him tighter.
Sora is angry. Sora is scared. And Sora doesn’t think he’s strong enough, strong enough for anything.
“And you’re wrong,” Riku says, holding this furious storm in his arms. Wild lightning in his arms, deadly hurricane in his arms, Sora is every storm, and Riku brings him closer. “You’re— You’re more than strong. You’re everything, Sora. You’re everything.”
Yet Sora doesn’t like a single thing about himself. Sora needs his friends to keep going—he needs the love of his friends to think he’s worth anything, able to keep fighting.
Riku remembers what he felt after he let his darkness take over. He remembers the hatred he felt for himself. How willing he was to die if it meant protecting his friends if it meant saving Sora. Riku knows how terrifying it is to get out, but he had Mickey to keep him afloat; he had Sora.
No matter what happened, Riku had Sora. Riku’s had this love for Sora, so strong that he couldn’t help but keep going, keep fighting, reach and reach and reach for him. When Riku didn’t love himself, he loved Sora, and it was enough.
Riku is willing to die without ever telling Sora. Riku was going to die without ever telling a single soul, not even the ones who figured it out. Riku was willing to take it to his grave if it meant Sora being happy.
But he doesn’t need Sora to be happy. He just needs his Sora, so he holds him tightly and whispers into his ear, “I love you.”
Sora lets out a weak whimper, going quiet. He buries his head into Riku’s chest, shaking. He keeps scratching, but it’s nothing that could hurt Riku. He could never hurt Riku, not really, not even if he killed him and not even if he killed everyone. He could never hurt Riku, and he cries and cries.
“I love you so much, Sora,” Riku tells him, voice shaking. “I’ve loved you since I met you. I loved you before you were the most popular boy in school. I loved you before you were a keyblade wielder. I loved you before the world fell into our laps.
“A-And I love you now. I love your light. I love your darkness. I will keep loving your darkness until you love it too, until you understand how precious you are, Sora. I-I will keep loving your darkness until it loves you too, in the same way I love you. I will love you until I die, Sora, because you are more than the world. Because you are the world.”
Sora keeps shaking, keeps screaming.
And Riku keeps holding, keeps whispering.
He tells Sora everything he can, everything he was never going to tell him. Tells him about the first time he loved Sora and the first time he realized he loved Sora. Tells him about his first memory of them watching the sunset. Tells him about wanting to see the world.
Riku doesn’t even notice when the darkness fades from him. When he can see Sora’s soft, brown hair, sunkissed kiss quivering in his arms. He doesn’t even know when he started crying either, the tears hot and unfamiliar on his cheeks.
He just keeps holding Sora, whispering and pressing kisses to his cheeks. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats like a mantra in this broken city, and Sora begins to mumble, “Riku, Riku, Riku,” like it’s the only word he knows. Riku will cure him in a minute. Riku will do everything in a minute. All that matters is Sora’s back, Sora’s here, Sora, Sora, Sora.
Riku doesn’t know what Sora thinks. Sora knows. What a horrifying and freeing thought. But Riku doesn’t really care. He has his Sora back. He has his Sora back. Riku could become religious because he has his Sora back.
Riku’s found his Sora, and he’s not letting go.