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Sora has been to a lot of weird places. And when he says weird, he means weird weird weird—From the insides of a whale to technically non-existent planes beyond reality, literal hell, a somehow chill purgatory and his friends’ heart stations, among other worlds he would rather not mention—The thing is: he has seen, if not all, at least most of it. He isn’t easy to surprise; absurdity has become his bread and butter, Sora doesn’t freak out over strange landscapes anymore. If anything, he gets suspicious over ordinary places; there is always danger lurking in the most unsuspecting corners.
But even he needs time to adjust when, after diving into Riku’s heart, he is met with the main island’s town hall and five colourful Rikus, instead of the purple stained glass he is used to. That for sure gave weird a new definition.
Yes, technically, it isn’t the town hall he entered whenever he was accompanying Kairi to ask something of her father, but it has the vibe. Tall ceiling, structure of solid wood beams, lordly appearance and potted plants with huge, emerald leafs decorating every wall. At least, that’s what Sora guesses it would look like on a normal day. Now, it seems like one of those tropical storms that always spoiled the end of summer threw a centenary tree over the room. And even with the tree gone, the disaster remains. A hole in the roof, splinters everywhere, boarded-up windows and pieces of furniture where Sora knows they wouldn’t usually be.
Also, the five colourful Rikus are, technically, not versions of Riku. They are colourful (and adorable, but you didn’t hear it from him) and they resemble Riku, but as he has learnt since he first stepped inside this wreck of a room, they are Riku’s emotions. Five little guys living under the stained glass of Riku’s heart station who are in charge of Riku’s inner psyche and were very opinionated about Sora’s presence.
Sadness, the one in charge despite his grief-strangled voice and mourning demeanour, is an azure recreation of the Riku he met briefly in the Organisation’s castle. A tall wilted shadow dressed in a leather coat the same hue as the sea at night, blue hair like a curtain over his face and a dark blindfold covering his eyes. He did most of the explaining when Sora arrived, but it was difficult to truly process the words being said with Sadness sounding about to burst into tears. Sora’s heart clenched at every quiet sob, every muffled sniffle and he hasn’t been able to look him in the face since he noticed the wet patches on the blindfold. Damp halfmoons drawn where his eyes hide behind the fabric. His stomach churns at the idea of his Riku ever looking like that.
Anger and Disgust are another story entirely. If Sora didn’t know better, he would confuse them with bickering twins. The first is the Riku he remembers hauling logs and taunting him at the finish line of their racetrack, only that washed in the red hatred Sora could feel oozing from him during their first adventure, when Riku was commanding a pirate ship and turning Sora against his own shadow. The latter is wearing a green version of the dark suit that plagued Sora’s nightmares throughout his second journey and that he had finally started to associate with Vanitas, instead of the best friend that got possessed by darkness and almost killed him in Hollow Bastion. Those memories are making an unwelcome comeback and Sora is happy those two are more interested in complaining than in approaching him.
Luckily, he has Joy to soothe his nerves. A breath of fresh air among the negativity filling the room. A small, cute-as-a-button, vision of the Riku buried deep inside his heart. That little kid with the sweet smile and encouraging words that opened Sora to the idea of worlds beyond. The one that had comforting hands and gave the best hugs. The companion to his childhood days that held riddles in his tongue and an entire universe in his eyes. The Riku Sora wished for when he was lost and alone and felt weak and useless and broken beyond repair. The Riku that had started to show up again after their Mark of Mastery exam and had Sora’s guts doing somersaults, his pulse revolutionised.
Sora had already made amends with never seeing little Riku again. Growing up is as irreversible as it is inevitable, so being able to squeeze that small frame in his arms and to ruffle his soft hair is something out of a dream. It doesn’t matter if the hair is bright blue instead of silver or that his skin is a pale yellow, glowing like a star in the sky, carefree and playful. The light within Sora’s darkness.
“You know he can walk, right? His legs aren’t only for show.”
He takes his eyes off Joy to pout at Disgust. “But he is so small!”
“Come on.” Anger groans audibly next to Disgust. Although he has his back towards Sora, he can see a puff of steam rising from his head. “Cut that crap. He is the oldest here.”
That has Sora looking at Joy, held tightly in his arms. It is true that he hasn’t let go of him since he got here, but still… “You are the oldest?”
“I was the first emotion Riku felt!” Joy proclaims proudly, eyes shining so brightly and smile so innocently wide, Sora can’t help but coo at him and hug him closer, nuzzling his cheek against Joy’s. The giggle Joy lets out sounds like a chorus of silver bells. He has had Joy for less than an hour, but if something happened to him, he would kill everyone in Quadratum and then himself.
His glee, though, is interrupted by a defeated sigh, “Riku was such a happy child.” Laments Sadness, on the brink of tears.
Sora buries his face in Joy’s shimmering hair and calms himself with the smell of sunlight and seabreeze. All of them have Riku’s voice and that’s okay, because Sora is used to Riku’s anger and his disgust and his joy, but Sora can’t remember the last time Riku’s voice was this sorrowful, if such a thing did even happen. He has heard him being wistful and melancholic, even wounded, but never this heartbroken. It’s unfathomable to him, in a way, that Riku could be capable of speaking with this level of grief.
“Sora,” a warm hand pats his shoulder. “They have a point, we will work faster if you put me down.”
“But you are so small.” He repeats, which makes Joy laugh and, consequently, turns letting go twenty times harder.
“I might be small, but I have an important job.” Of course he does; he has the most important job in the worlds as far as Sora is concerned. “Riku needs us, Sora.”
Reluctantly, Sora stops hugging Joy and the coldness that bites at his skin when he lets go completely feels like being back in Arandelle. “You are right.” He ruffles his hair one last time; the texture is so new yet so familiar. “Let's get to work!”
“Yep!” They high-five each other to the background litany of curses Anger spits out, still sorting his pile of memories.
Because this is what Sora needs to help them with: finding Riku’s Core Memories. Their existence is something that confused him at first. Until an hour ago, he was under the impression that memories were links in a chain, connecting to one another in a continuous flow of experiences. If one link breaks, that current is interrupted and the subsequent memories turn dormant until the connection is repaired and order is reestablished (all of this, of course, theoretically; Sora has quite a few criticisms about the method. 0 stars. He would not recommend). However, one hour ago he had no idea that personifications of one’s emotions lived inside people’s hearts, so what does he know, really? Sora is just going with the flow at this point in his life.
Hence, he has fully accepted that memories are glowing orbs that function like crystal balls. But instead of allowing you to peer into the future, they display flashes of the past. The colour on them reflects how the person feels about the experience. Core Memories being the most important: each one of them powers a different aspect of Riku’s personality, creating something that Sadness called ‘Islands of Personality’ as well as being the base for Riku’s sense of self which, apparently, is in dire danger. During that explanation, Disgust and Anger muttered something about shrivelled flowers and decaying trees while glancing at whatever is being covered by a blanket in the middle of the room and that had Sora’s hands itching. It’s obvious there are things they don’t want him to know; curiosity has him by the throat.
But he is here to save the day, not to cause trouble to the already stressed inhabitants of Riku’s heart. The Master of Masters’ attack left enough damage already. He still has no idea why he was trying to syphon off Riku’s memories and he is glad he didn’t accomplish his goal, but this—the interior of Riku’s mindscape—is a major mess. What Sadness swore was once an organised short and long term register of events, is now the equivalent of a glassy ballpit. They managed to pile all of them on one side of the room, but here Sora can’t take one step without kicking at least two oversized marbles and doing so accidentally has him feeling like a monster. These are Riku’s memories! They are to be treasured and treated gently! It doesn’t matter that Joy has assured him that memories are indestructible; he needs to proceed with care.
That’s why he kneels on the floor, next to Joy, who is gingerly rolling three orbs out of the way. While the others focus on identifying the memories that formed Riku’s sense of self, Sora’s mission is to find the Core Memories; an easy task, Joy declared, taking into account that they shine brighter than the others. Impossible to miss, added Disgust, even if by his tone it was clear he expected Sora to fail.
That version of Riku is so irritating. Sora doesn’t miss it. Not at all. Hmph.
He also doesn’t want to admit that he might be onto something, because no matter how deeply Sura submerges himself in the pile, he doesn’t catch any special radiance from any of them. Part of it might be his fault, though. Internally, he knows that stopping every two minutes to play the memories in the spheres isn’t helping anyone, but he can’t resist the temptation. These are Riku’s memories. They are from Riku’s perspective. This is how Riku sees the world; Sora can’t pass on the opportunity of discovering how his mind works.
Maybe inside one of these crystal balls is the answer to the questions that have tormented him for years. A memory from the day Destiny Islands was swallowed by darkness or from when Riku first met Ansem Seeker of Darkness or the truth about the year Sora spent sleeping and that everyone is so secretive about. Part of him yearns for an explanation for all the pain they caused each other. There is so much they haven’t talked about. So many things Sora doesn’t think he will ever have the courage to ask. When will he ever get a chance like this? It would be stupid to discharge this one-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
But Riku needs me.
He can search for his answers later.
If he watches one memory or two, that’s totally accidental. Besides, they aren’t going to kick him out the moment everything is solved, right? Perhaps if he completes his task well enough they will help him in return. Joy for sure would be willing to.
What seems like an eternity later, Sora finally finds his first Core Memory. It’s a fiery scarlet with green smudges, hot to the touch and pulsing like a little heart. As if it were enraged, as if it were preparing for battle. Inside it there is the vision of a sanguine sunset, bloody sea ominously lapping at the dock he recognises as the one in the Play Island. Someone is sitting at the end, an eerie silhouette.
His finger touches the smooth surface and the memory begins. The person in it turns around, it is-
The orb is snatched from his hand.
“Hey!”
By the time Sora jumps to his feet, Fear is already on the other side of the room. A creepy dark shadow looming over the two Core Memories they already found before his arrival.
“Don’t just appear from nowhere like that! You scared me.”
As Sora has come to expect, Fear doesn’t utter a single word; he doesn’t even look at him. He simply deposits the orb next to the others and returns to his post as watchdog, guarding the memories the others set apart.
From all the emotions, he is the one Sora can’t figure out. The normal conclusion would be for a personification of Fear to be skittish and, well, a scaredy cat. Someone loud like Anger and kind of overbearing. Yet, Fear is nothing like that. He is the tallest and the one with the broadest shoulders, the definition of his biceps clear under the dark purple coat. Strong in a way different from the others, more mature. It isn’t Ansem’s figure, no, Sora knows it’s Riku the one hiding behind the leather, even if the hood obscures his expression in an unnatural way. Sora would have liked to take a peek at his face, but Fear has been running away from him. He has no idea what version of Riku he takes after. Fear doesn’t even talk to him.
Well, he doesn’t talk to anyone and, going by how the others react to him, it’s a common occurrence. They navigate around him as if he were another potted plant and Fear doesn’t bother to interact with them either. He has been on his own since Sora arrived, observing from a distance and jolting away the moment he tried to approach. For someone so big, he managed to make himself so small. Hunched back and arms close to his chest, as if he wanted to curl in on himself but had to be ready to flee the scene.
This is the closest he has ever willingly gotten to Sora, and he didn’t even notice before it was over.
“You found it!” Anger darts out of his pile and crosses the room; unlike when Sora tries, Fear doesn’t flinch when Anger arrives to his side. “Oh, yeah! It’s as red as I remember.” He says, satisfaction clear in his voice, as he raises the Core Memory to his face.
“Green suits it more!” Yells Disgust, which gains him a middle finger pointed in his direction.
“What is it about?”
The sound of glass knocking against glass catches his attention. When he turns around, little Joy is stumbling out of the pile. Sora offers him his hand and he takes it with a nervous smile. “There is no need for that.”
“I say we tell him.” Declares Anger, tossing the memory from one hand to the other. A very Riku thing to do that has Sora feeling all fuzzy inside.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Intervenes Sadness.
“I think it’s a spectacular idea.”
“I kinda wanna see how he reacts too.”
“Now you get on his side?” Asks Joy, sounding the most tired Sora has ever heard him. Which, yeah, he hasn’t known him for long, but as someone who was glued to Riku for the better part of his life, he is surprised by his exhaustion. Riku was so patient when he was a kid.
“I know we are all curious.”
“Think about the consequences.” Warns Sadness. Anger’s smile turns diabolical. Which is, too, very fifteen-year-old Riku coded.
“Oh, believe me, I’m thinking about the consequences.”
Sora feels his stomach sinking. “Is the memory that bad?”
“Not at all!” Chirps up Joy, expression stiff. His little fingers are firm around Sora’s. “It’s just not the right time.”
“Now or never.” Says Disgust.
“Never, please.” Weeps Sadness.
The debate ends with Fear taking the memory away from Anger. “Partypooper.” He complains and, to Sora’s surprise, instead of squaring up, Anger returns to his previous place in the pile. The others do the same, including Joy who leads him by his joined hands, turning around from Fear.
With everyone back to their tasks, Sora feels obligated to let it go, even with the intrigue eating him up. What was all that about?
During the next hour Sora manages to get his hands on three more Core Memories and all of them are whisked from his grasp by Fear before he can watch them through; it doesn’t matter how secretive he thinks he is about it. The moment his finger presses over the glass, Fear is at his side one moment and gone the next. It’s ridiculous, how can someone with those muscular legs not make a sound when he moves?
Nevertheless, that isn’t really what’s bothering him the most.
As it stands, what Riku feels about the majority of his life is pretty grim. Around him, Sora sees blue and green and red, the occasional purple sphere appearing from time to time. The colour in most of them isn’t solid, but rather a principal one being complemented by another. On a few occasions Sora has encountered orbs that were half and half and once he found one with four emotions displayed on it. Blue, red, green and purple. Always blue, red, green or purple.
Never yellow. Never only yellow. Not even yellow as the main colour. It’s merely spots or smudges, as if happiness was smeared on it by accident. The most he has seen is in a memory of Terra telling Riku that he is proud of him before entering a portal with Ven and Aqua, and even that yellow is sharing space with blue and purple.
This can’t be right.
“Joy,” he calls, and the absolutely adorable face of five-year-old Riku pops out from within the stack of orbs to his left.
“Need help with something?”
“Eh, no, no. It’s more of a question.” He fiddles with the sphere in his hands, passing his fingers over the smooth glass. It’s all blue and, inside, Sora can see a computer screen. He has no idea when Cid got the time or the skills to create a videogame version of him programmed to fight against Organisation XIII (as if he had not fought them enough in real life, why does his Data-Self need to go through that too?), but he knows from other memories that playing it made Riku downright miserable. “Where are his happy memories?”
Joy’s smile wavers for a second. “Most memories are sent down to long-term.”
It sounds like he is evading the question. “But there are so many here and they are supposed to be the important ones.” The Core Memories building Riku’s personality. The experiences nourishing his sense of self. The foundation for the Riku Sora adores; the one he can’t live without. They are all so… “Why aren’t they yellow?”
“Life is complicated.” Joy says softly, in that tone Riku used whenever they were splayed on the sand looking at the stars, as if talking louder would scare them, as if they were fireflies. The noise of crystal balls falling from the pile and rolling away as Joy gets out of it, though, is a new sound. It is a reminder, in a way, that he isn’t really talking with Riku. Not his Riku. But Joy was already present at that moment, wasn’t he? He has always been there, watching from inside Riku’s heart. He must know what works on Sora. How Riku was capable of enraging him one moment and making him blissfully calm the next. He is aware that Sora is down bad for Riku being sweet to him. He must be. “With time, as you grow up, your perspective on past events shifts.”
His warm hand sets on Sora’s forearm and it is so preciously small. At times, it is difficult to believe Riku was ever this little, this vulnerable. Maybe he is still that, deep inside. It would explain why he is always hiding so much.
“Something that before brought you joy can turn into a source of sorrow or shame.” There is so much green surrounding them. So much blue. Is that why Sadness is the leader? Because Riku feels it the most? Sora, he… he doesn’t want to think about it being true. No. “Sometimes you look back and get angry at yourself.” There is so much red. They are blaring alarms setting off in his head. It is too much red. “And some people go through painful events that affect their whole worldview” No… “and then it’s difficult to remember a happy moment, because everything makes you feel…blue.”
Blue.
Blue like the sea back at home, like the sky in every world.
Blue like the memories caging him, an ocean of agony ready to swallow him.
Is that how Riku sees his life now? A succession of wounds? A history of regrets? One damn catastrophe after another with no moment to breathe?
“Riku-”
“Riku is a resilient young man.” Comforts Joy, squeezing his arm.
Sora doesn’t want him to be resilient; he wants him to be happy. So happy that his lips hurt from smiling so much and so widely. So happy that he doubles over laughing. A happiness so pure and beaming that it gets engraved in his bones and can be seen in every step, every shake of his shoulders and every move. He wants Riku to feel raw bliss for being alive. He wants his best friend to laugh and smile and joke around and play with him and for his eyes to shine with the pleasure of living through another day.
Sora wants Riku to be happy.
Sora wants to make Riku happy.
He has obviously been terrible at it.
“Riku will be okay.” Little arms go around his neck and Sora lets go of the memory to return the hug. “He has you on the outside and us on the inside. Together, we will take care of him, I promise.” Riku’s happiness is so small. “Everything will be okay.”
Has anything ever been okay when Sora was involved?
Sora is going insane.
He isn’t even searching for Core Memories anymore, no. That ended when he encountered one shining an emerald green, sticky to the touch, and all he could see inside was Riku looking at himself in the mirror.
He can’t go on with this, not after finding a sapphire Core Memory that left his fingers damp and displayed his limp body inside the white pot, scrawny limbs and undersized jumper and wild hair making him look like a stray dog.
Because, before those two, he found a purple orb that shook against his palms and showed him a Riku running away from Heartless in the Dark Realm.
And because, before that one, he saw one shimmering in blue and green. An image of Terra offering Riku the handle of his keyblade trapped behind the glass.
Not a single yellow one. None of the Core Memories he has gathered until now have gotten a sprinkle of yellow! The memories holding who Riku is together don’t possess the slightest trace of happiness.
Sora is going nuts.
One happy memory. That’s all he asks for. One happy memory to appease his roaring heart. Proof that Riku has been happy at least once. This can’t be all there is to Riku’s vital moments. Sora refuses to believe that his life has been defined by anger and self-hatred and fear and sadness.
“Sora!” Yells someone—Anger or Disgust, Sora can’t tell, he doesn’t care. “The fuck are you doing?!”
He is digging through the mountain of glass as if his life depended on it. And, in a way, it does. Sora won’t be able to keep on living if he doesn’t find it. Please, he begs whoever is willing to listen, please just one.
“Hey!”
Red, green, red, blue, blue, blue, purple, red, red, green, blue, purple, blue, blue, blue, red, red, green, blue.
“Sora!”
Blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue.
“WHERE ARE THEY!?”
Sora hits the floor with his fists, breathing raged, fingers shaking, heart about to fracture his ribs. He refuses. No, this can’t be it. It just can’t! This can’t be all it is in Riku's life. All pain. All hurt.
“Sora…”
Joy approaches him carefully, behind him, the others stare in puzzlement. In the silence of the room, all Sora can hear are Sadness quiet whimpers and the tump of his own pulse.
“Where are his happy memories?” It comes out as a plea.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Sora doesn’t fight it; he simply sinks into Joy’s hug, as small as he is, and allows himself to be comforted by the image that he knows is in most of his yellow spheres. Why can’t it be the other way too? Is he not enough? Does Riku not… But Sora thought- Sora loves him so much. The thought of spending time with him is enough to push him through another day. After everything that happened, he thought it was reciprocal. Riku had shown up in Quadratum for Kingdom Heart’s sake. That had to mean something.
Not the something Sora had hoped for, it seems.
“Uh… There is one right there.”
He sweeps his head around, looking at Disgust who is pointing where the wall meets the ceiling. There lies a broken transparent tube that, as Sadness explained to him, serves to transport the memories. It is brimming with orbs of all colours and, at first, Sora doesn’t see it, but once he notices the yellow, barely visible from behind other spheres, it is like the polar star. It guides him.
Sora lets go of Joy and jumps on top of the tube; it wobbles slightly but supports his weight. A few orbs spill from the stuffed cylinder. So, Sora starts jumping on it in earnest. The structure complains, it lets out cracks and whines and the others are screaming at him, but Sora hears none of it. The crystal balls pour from the broken opening in a colourful waterfall that joins the mountain of memories already on the floor, destroying any order it once had. Sora continues until he sees that precious yellow descending the pile and then he lunges.
The orb slides across the floor. Sora lands and runs after it; his fingers are almost touching it-
A gloved hand grabs the memory. When Sora looks up, Fear is already running away.
The chase starts immediately.
The headquarters’ door leads to a series of corridors identical to the ones in the treehouse at the Play Island. Unlike the main room, the wood looks old and thinned by time; as Sora passes through, he catches glimpses of carvings. Letters and drawings that on any other occasion Sora would love to stop and admire.
But he can’t. Fear is fast and Sora lost sight of him three turns ago. He is going by ear. Listening intently to the sound of quick footsteps.
Suddenly, while Sora is pondering on which route to take in a crossway, the noise stops. Sora is left standing there, at a loss. Then, a barely audible clatter breaks the silence and Sora starts running again. The path takes him down a hall, a turn to the left and there he finds Fear.
He is kneeling next to a hole in the floor, about to cover it with a plank, but he isn’t fast enough for that; Sora sees what he just put in it. The yellow memories shine like gold coins in a treasure chest.
“You-” Sora has fire in his veins. The little red guy inside his heart must be wreaking havoc. “Why are you doing this!? Why are you keeping them away?!”
Fear doesn’t answer.
“Those are Riku’s memories! You have to give them back!”
Fear gets up, standing at his full height. Expression still obscured by the hood.
Sora steps closer.
Oblivion materialises in Fear’s right hand.
“How-”
There is no opportunity for him to finish. Fear hurls himself at Sora, keyblade aiming for his shoulder and he scarcely evades it by dodge rolling. The second strike comes when Sora is trying to get on his feet and he needs to jump away. Then comes the third and the fourth until the fifth has Oblivion’s teeth cutting into the wall and getting stuck. Those few seconds are enough for Sora to call for Kingdom Key and block the next attack. His arms shake under the strength of the blow. It is the same as the Riku he knows.
“Why are you attacking me?!”
Sora pushes and Fear steps back, keyblade poised for another assault.
“Okay.” Sora resigns himself to the fight, readying his weapon. “I will beat it out of you.”
This is, too, how things usually go between Sora and Riku. If Sora needs to knock the living daylight out of Riku’s literal personification of fear to recover his happy memories, so be it. Sora will bite his head off if it comes down to it. He will get his hands on that treasure.
Clashing blades with Fear feels the same as sparring with Riku, the only difference being that Fear is obviously going for the throat. This isn’t friendly combat; Fear wants him gone. Sora finds himself on the defensive more often than not, blocking and dodging and only attacking when Fear crashes against the walls or gets Oblivion stuck. He is strong and big, but the corridor is narrow and Sora is agile, experienced in fighting in any circumstances. This isn’t even in his top ten of inconvenient places to exchange blows, although being unable to use magic does hinder him. Who knows what could happen if he damages the interior of Riku’s heart with spells. He isn’t willing to find out.
So, Fear keeps on his restless onslaught and Sora continues resisting him until Fear raises his keyblade too high and it cuts through the roof, catching onto the planks and leaving him exposed. Sora hits him square in the chest, Fear lets go of Oblivion’s hilt and he kicks him off his feet.
Fear lands with a heavy thud. Sora is on him the next second, Kingdom Key’s blade firmly pressed across his shoulders.
“Answer me, now.”
Despite his previous bravado, Fear starts honouring his name again, quivering under him and turning his head away, acting as if he had been unfairly ambushed and was scared beyond belief. That does make Sora waver momentarily.
“Look, I just wanna know why you are hiding them here.”
No answer, just more shaking. Sora is starting to feel like an attacker subduing his innocent victim and that’s just… no.
“Why aren’t you talking to me?” Now that Sora thinks about it, he hasn’t heard him uttering a single noise before either. No grunts, no cries. Nothing he has come to expect from someone fighting so ferociously. “Can you talk?”
That has Fear going stiff. Sora dissipates his keyblade and readies himself for a reaction; when he stays in place, paralysed, Sora dares to nudge his head to face him. Under the hood there are only shadows, an impenetrable darkness. No, it isn’t darkness. His eyes were obscured by the hood, but he can see them now; they are a pretty violet, even if they are staring at him in panic. His skin is a soft lilac, but there is-
Sora pushes down the hood—It is a muzzle. Half of his face is covered by a fucking black muzzle. Holy shit. Why is he wearing a muzzle?!
“Why are you wearing a muzzle?!”
Fear closes his eyes tightly and turns his head to the side. The metallic buckle clinks against the floor. Right, muzzle, he can’t answer.
“Just- stay put, okay? I’m going to take it off.”
The damn thing is an amalgamation of belts going around his head and fastening the leather over his mouth and nose. There are two pairs of little holes parallel to each other at the centre and Sora can feel his hitched breathing coming out of them. It worsens the more Sora struggles to unbuckle them. Now he is truly feeling like a predator.
“I’m almost done! Here.” Sora pulls softly at the muzzle and it finally comes off. “See?”
What Sora sees are purple lines cutting where the muzzle was pressed against the skin. They look like bruises. Ugly, dark, painful ones. He can feel a dip with his fingertips when he passes them over his cheeks. For how long did he have it on?
“Who put it on you?” He asks and it comes out as a growl. He means every bit of aggression discernible in his tone.
Violet eyes meet his, gaze unwavering for the first time. Sora shivers. “You did.”
His blood freezes inside his veins. “What? No! I didn’t!”
The next thing he knows is that he is staring at the ceiling, back against the floor and that Fear is crawling away after shoving him off.
“Wait!” Sora jolts upright, following him. “What do you mean?”
Thankfully, Fear doesn’t flee the scene. He simply sits with his back against the wall and his arms around his legs. Small once again, despite his size. Sora has no clue how to react to that, to this obvious vulnerability. The same as with Sadness, the Riku he knows is so far away from the image before his eyes. Even more so with Fear resembling the Riku that accompanied him in battle before reality erased him into oblivion. Short hair, elegant features, strong build. Now that his face is on full view, Sora can’t take his eyes off him.
Maybe his stare unnerves him, because Fear wiggles in place, but then he says: “Sometimes you care so much for somebody that other feelings disappear.” He looks at Sora from the corner of his eyes, only a glance before returning to glare down at the opposite wall. “And then, there’s no room for fear or doubt.”
No room for Fear? Is someone excluding him? That’s why the others ignore that he is in the same room as them? It’s obvious that time for explanations has come, so Sora sits quietly at a safe distance from him. He guesses Fear wouldn’t appreciate having him close.
Fear looks at him again, but now his eyes stay locked on his. “You are that ‘somebody’ to Riku. When it comes to you, he shuts me up.”
His heart does a somersault. “I-I didn’t know.”
“You should.” It is the first time Fear has raised his voice and it startles him. “You should know that he would do anything for you!” Fear throws his arms to the side, indignation coming out of him in waves. “Have you any idea how far he has gone?! Everything he would be willing to sacrifice?!” He turns towards him and, for a second, Sora thinks he is going to attack him again. But Oblivion never appears in his hand when he clenches it in a fist. “All the things he has already given up?!”
A flash of the past blinds Sora, it’s only a second. A purple and black explosion. A starburst. A keyblade shining silver parting the dark seas. A valiant figure standing tall as a tower, as solid as a mountain. His hero. His protector. His-
The memory dissipates into nothing; Sora is left blinking in astonishment and with the sensation that all his organs have been plucked from his torso. He is hollow.
“Do you even understand?” Fear is looming over him, frenzied eyes and cutting words. “You are who scares him the most, Sora. He is terrified of you.” Sora is listening; he sees his lips moving, but he isn’t comprehending the words. “And so am I.”
“But why?” He asks and his voice shakes.
Fear glowers at him. “Because you make him the saddest and the angriest too, and you are half the reason why he feels so disgusted with himself.”
A stab to the chest would have hurt him less, he knows; he has punctured his heart before—The pain, the feeling of being broken and ripped apart and the nothing that follows after—No, it’s impossible. Is he really the reason why Riku is miserable? All that blue, all that red, all that green and purple. Is that because of him? Has he been hurting Riku all this time? Has he done anything but hurt him, again and again and again? He knows that Riku felt like Sora was trying to replace him. Riku told him about feeling jealous. They talked about Naminé and Roxas and why Riku felt like he couldn’t return to the islands after what he did to him. It didn’t take much for Sora to guess that he did something similar to Xion. All for Sora. Everything because of Sora. A whole year of loneliness and suffering while tormented by the shadow of the Heartless that possessed him and took his body away. It has always been Sora’s fault.
And he forced Riku to go through it again. Another year searching for a way to bring him back. Twelve months of agony and fruitless investigation. Losing hope day by day. Blue memory after blue memory until it turned into a glass mountain of despair.
Sora is the source of all his hurt.
“You also make him the happiest.”
Sora snaps his head up. Fear is next to the opening left by the moved plank. Glowing spheres casting his gloved hands in golden light.
“I hide them here so they don’t get tainted.” He seems to search for something in his hidden cranny. When he finds it, he hands it to Sora. “If Riku remembered any of them right now, I’m sure they would turn blue.”
Inside the crystal ball he sees himself painted in yellows, smiling so widely that it occupies half of his face. The look in his eyes is one he didn’t know he could make. He looks… He looks like Adam when he reunited with Belle after fighting tooth and nail for her.
His finger presses the glass and the memory starts to play.
The Sora in the memory flings his arms around Riku’s neck. “You’re safe! Riku!” From Riku’s perspective, all he can see are Sora’s brown spikes, but the orb gets warm, it tickles Sora’s palms. “Wait, haven’t we got this backwards?” Comes Riku’s voice. Funnily enough, Sora remembers not understanding what he said. He was too overjoyed to hear anything but his own beating heart. His face reapers, looking as besotted as before, if not more. “And why are you having a tea party?” Sora hugs him again. “You’re safe, Riku!” The glass shines brighter and Riku sighs, bringing one hand to his temple. “Ah, never mind. You okay? Feeling alright?”
The memory ends with another shot of Sora’s face, almost identical to the one it started with, just much closer.
Silently, Fear offers him another one.
Sora is tempted to stay like this for the rest of forever, simply looking at passages of Riku’s happiness. Short memories of when they were little kids building castles in the sand. Riku playing freely with his dream eaters, petting Komori Bat until her fur is all fluffed up and flying over the roofs in Traverse Town. King Mickey giving him lessons on keyblade wielding and always having his back. Those he met in other worlds that offered him heartfelt thanks and kind words. And among them one stands out: a Core Memory that feels like spring sun on his fingers.
“It’s Riku. Riku’s here…” His own eyes water, like the ones in the memory, as he falls to his knees. “I looked for you.” Stars, he sounds so desperate. “C’mon, Sora. You’ve got to pull it together.” The orb throbs, as if it were about to hop off his hands. “I looked everywhere for you!”
The memory continues to play, but Sora is holding too many tears to see through them. It’s strange to think that something that still makes him cry is for sure also yellow inside his own heart. Yellow and glowing just like this one. Sora hugs it close to his chest and it is like holding a star shard. Precious and fragile and magical.
There is so much he needs to tell Riku once this is over.
“We need to return them.” His voice is choked up by tears. “Riku will end up forgetting them if they stay away.” He wipes the wet tracks from his face with his sleeve. “He needs them.”
“What he needs is for you to figure yourself out and stop leading him on.”
Sora blushes all the way to the tip of his ears. “I’m not leading him on!”
“Then stop staring like you want to climb him like a tree.” Fear looks miffed before covering his face with his hands and shivering. “I can’t stomach more of those daydreams he gets whenever he catches you ogling.”
“It isn’t ogling.” Mutters Sora, trying to hide behind the Core Memory.
Fear sighs as if he is being tortured. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.” He takes his hands away to set them on Sora’s shoulders, gaze boring into his, panicked. “Listen. I fear you with every fibre of my being. If it was in my hands, he would have given up on you ages ago and that’s exactly why he muzzles me up. Because I’m his common sense and whenever you show up he throws me outta window and does the most reckless, dangerous, braindead, impulsive, temerarious and stupid things known to man.”
It is still hard to wrap his head around that being true.
“My job is to keep him alive.” Grunts Fear through his teeth. “And that’s a very difficult task when you get into life-threatening situations every five minutes, knowing perfectly that Riku would follow you into the core of an active volcano if you decided to jump headfirst into it.” Sora did not know that, but he is thankful for the information. What a pity that he can’t enjoy the butterflies in his stomach because Fear is shaking him so violently that it makes him dizzy. “Do you understand now why you are the bane of my existence?!”
“I’m sorry!”
“You better be!”
Fear pushes him away with a huff, not strong enough to tip him over, but Sora needs to support himself by putting one hand on the floor. He wonders if he will ever get to see his Riku being this emotional. Even his anger had a certain coldness to it.
“You may take the memories under one condition.” An accusing finger points to his chest. Fear scowls his face into seriousness. “You have to swear that you will take care of Riku.”
Sora is almost offended. He grabs his wrist. “Of course I will.”
Violet eyes check him over, unsure and suspicious. They land on the memory still cradled against Sora’s chest and his expression softens. “Riku might act strong and like he has everything figured out. But his heart is as fragile as any other.” His gaze wanders to the others, still kept under the floor. There are so many of them. “He needs to be protected too.”
“I will protect him. I will give it my all to make him the happiest he has ever been.” After all, Riku makes him the happiest too. And the angriest and the saddest and nothing scares him more than the idea of losing him for good. Not again. Sora would follow him into the core of an active volcano too if it came to it. For Sora it’s easy to die for someone, but for Riku he would live and sometimes that’s the hardest part. “I promise that someday it won’t be necessary to hide memories away.” Sora offers him his pinky and a smile. “This whole place will be full of yellow.”
Yellow like the little star warming his heart. Yellow like Joy. Yellow like a paopu fruit. Yellow, which has always been Riku’s favourite colour, even when he insisted it was blue because it made him look cooler. Sora knew better, though, and he is going to swarm him in yellow presents after all of this is done. The colour has a new meaning to him, he wants to live the rest of his life surrounded by it.
“You better keep your word this time.”
They link fingers, sealing the deal, and Sora swears he can feel a little purple guy inside him exhaling a relieved sigh and a yellow one doing a victory dance.