Chapter Text
Sora’s lost track of how long they’ve been stranded, surrounded by nothing but black rock and a hazy sky filled with too-few stars, stuck on a dark shore cut off from the rest of the universe. He knows that keeping track of the minutes and hours is pointless when nothing is going to change for the foreseeable future — yet he can feel time slipping by in the crash of the waves, the sound of a heartbeat in his ears, and in each carefully drawn breath of the boy sitting next to him. He can feel the water seeping into his shoes and the coarse sand under his hands and the touch of a breeze that blows neither hot nor cold, and he feels how the emptiness of this place is absolute. It’s a realm where every unguarded heart is doomed to be swiftly consumed by the void, a place where not even the blazing appearance of Kingdom Hearts was enough to bring light to it again. The bleak shore is a poignant reminder of the lives they didn’t save, of wishes and dreams destroyed by the darkness, of the battles that Sora is beginning to realize never truly end for those who wield the keyblade.
They got lucky and found a crack, a forgotten portal or whatever it was, and wound up here. It’s a dead-end but it’s better than an infinite road. Both of them are battered and exhausted (he suspects Riku is more injured than he’s letting on) and Sora knows how much they need the rest. Plus, if someone had asked him a year ago where he’d be today this would have been his last guess — sitting on a desolate beach and facing an eternity in darkness with only Riku at his side. That Riku is here at all is a miracle, a wish that Sora has only let himself dare to dream in the most secret places of his heart. But the side that fights for the Light is safe from Nobodies, Kairi is in the capable hands of their friends, Donald and Goofy are reunited with their King, and Sora…
Well, Sora got his best friend back. Maybe sometimes wishes do come true.
“We should move,” Sora says as the rising surf starts to splash against the back of his calves. They’ve been sitting on the beach long enough for the tide to begin its slow crawl inland. Looking over to his right, Sora can see that Riku’s pants are soaked completely through to the knees, his ankles submerged in the tepid water.
Riku nods slowly, one arm wrapped protectively around his torso, and when Sora gets to his feet Riku only extends the hand not holding his side, allowing Sora to help him stand upright. Sora frowns at the way Riku leans into him once he’s standing but says nothing as he wraps his arm around the other boy’s waist, fingers clutching the wide belt at his hip.
Together they move away from the water, Sora supporting Riku while their wet shoes leave trailing footprints in mud that clings to their soles, a dim reminder of other days spent on the beach running through the surf and tumbling over sand dunes. It doesn’t take long before they find a sheltering circle of black boulders rising out of the exposed bedrock, the wind at their backs warded off by an arched roof of stone that extends over their heads. Riku’s limp has grown worse since they began their trek through the gray corridors, and Sora is aware of a worrisome hitch in his breathing that’s been coming with greater regularity. When Sora guides his friend to sit on the ground he doesn’t miss the wince or the hiss of pain that slips from Riku’s lips.
“Let me see,” Sora says, sitting beside the other boy. It’s a telling sign of how much discomfort Riku must be in that he doesn’t protest, only nods and leans back as Sora slides one side of the white and yellow vest off Riku’s shoulder and gingerly lifts up the black material underneath, honing in on the flesh where one of Xemnas’ weapons found its mark during the fight.
When he gets it halfway up Riku’s torso he winces involuntarily — a raised crimson line, shiny with scar tissue like a newly healed burn, stretches across Riku’s waist and ends just below his ribs. It looks as though the healing magic he was able to apply immediately after the fight helped. But the half-moon bruise wrapping over one side of Riku’s torso draws his gaze like a magnet, the mottled red and purple skin making thoughts of punctured lungs and broken ribs pile up in his head.
“That bad huh?” Riku asks as he glances down to view the damage, lips pressed together into a hard line and right fist clenched on his thigh. He flinches involuntarily as Sora’s hand approaches the discolored ribs just above his stomach. Sora shakes himself and withdraws, sitting back on his heels with a pensive frown.
It hardly takes a moment for Sora to come to a decision. “I’m going to try again.”
“Knock yourself out,” Riku says, voice laced with weary exhaustion. “But I’m pretty sure nothing’s changed.”
A grimace ghosts over Sora’s lips before he smooths it away. He needs to focus to draw up as much magic as possible. He did what he could to heal Riku’s injuries in the void but had quickly tapped out thanks to the intensity of the fight with Xenmas. What little magic he can feel slowly replenishing inside of him barely feels like enough to light a match, but he has to try for Riku’s sake.
Sora puts his hands together and gives the palms a brisk rub, generating warmth against the skin under his gloves. It won’t make a difference but it feels right to make the effort. “We won’t know until we try. Okay, and… Cure.”
A faint puff of green magic, almost too little to see in the dim light, drifts out from his hand and completely disappears before it reaches Riku. “Oh come on,” Sora mutters.
Riku lets out a snort, and then pays for it with a small groan of pain. “Ugh. Told you.”
Sora gives his fingers a shake but no more magic seems forthcoming from them. He feels dried up inside too, like any more spellcasting would be scraping the bottom of a hollow barrel; unpleasant and probably unwise.
“Was worth a shot,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. He can feel how matted and dry the strands are now, sweat and salty air mixing together to leave behind a nasty residue that only a good shower will take care of. Something else they don’t have the luxury of doing for the foreseeable future. This additional realization, plus the sting of his magic failing, causes another, louder sigh to escape from him.
“Hey, I’m not dying,” Riku says gently, drawing Sora’s attention back to the boy in front of him. “We’ll get through this. Yeah it hurts, but so what? I’ll heal the old fashioned way. Wouldn’t be the first time. We’re alive. That’s what counts, right?” Riku gives him a smile that’s tentatively cheerful, so unlike the usual brash grins or smug smirks Sora’s used to seeing. Sora can’t help but answer it with a smile of his own.
“Yeah. You’re right, Riku.”
Riku nods and tips his head against the rock at his back. The careful way he exhales is telling enough of how much his injuries pain him, but he’s right. It’s enough to dampen the knot of worry in Sora’s chest, to take some comfort in Riku's familiar confidence. It's always been easier to think, to focus with clarity on what's important with Riku's steady presence leading the way.
As lost as they had been in endless pathways and swirling corridors of space and time, thinking about what they would do after getting out of the Nobodies’ twisted realm had not even crossed Sora’s mind. Riku had been real, breathing and warm under his hands, and it hadn’t seemed relevant to focus on anything beyond that. But here, surrounded by darkness and beyond the reach of their allies, Sora knows that non-life-threatening injuries are less important than planning for their long-term survival. They have no food, no water, no ship, no way out of this place, and magic alone can’t keep them alive forever. They’re going to have to get creative or somehow get very lucky, and Sora has a feeling that they used up their luck somewhere between finally finishing off Xemnas and escaping to this beach.
"Do you know where we are?" Sora asks, giving the blackened walls of their shelter a longer glance than what he could spare earlier. The rock is shiny under the starlight, smooth and polished like obsidian. His brief peek into the Realm of Darkness was so fleeting the first time, he can't say for certain he even saw anything like this before.
Riku doesn't move out of his careful recline, but Sora can tell he's thinking by the slight shift in his breathing. "I've never been here," Riku finally says, voice quiet. "We were pretty deep in the darkness. This place... it feels like maybe we're closer to the border where the realms meet."
Sora's gaze slips from the stones to Riku's face, and then back again. He has so many questions. It's incredibly tempting to press for more, to coax Riku into revealing new morsels of information, whether intentionally or not. He doesn't know how Riku and the King escaped, or how long he was stuck looking like Ansem, or where Riku has been since they said farewell on opposite sides of a door over a year ago. There's a massive piece of Riku's life that Sora knows nothing about, experiences and moments he will never be privy to unless Riku decides to share them. The few things that Riku has already told him only makes him hungry for more, and it burns him inside the longer he's aware of those empty places now that he has Riku back at his side.
But now doesn't feel like the right time to sate his curiosity, not with Riku sparing all his attention to ignoring the pain caused by their last battle. Sora draws his lips in and presses them together. Maybe one day he can ask. Right now they have more pressing concerns — like figuring out how they're going to go on living in the Realm of Darkness.
Sora begins unbuckling the pouches from around his thighs, sand and moisture causing his fingers to fumble against the smooth buckles. Riku notices and makes a soft noise of inquiry. “Hm? What are you doing?”
“Taking stock,” Sora answers, his blunt nails finally managing to unthread the criss-crossed straps. He sets the bags on the sand and carefully shakes out their contents, small bottles and slips of paper tumbling free along with a few pieces of jewelry and a rainbow collection of stones and glowing crystals. Riku reaches over to pick up one of them to study in the dim moonlight, a slender crystal still partially encased by rough stone, the soft internal glow casting a pale shade of viridian across his face.
Sora can’t help watching Riku out of the corner of his eye as he digs through his assortment of remedies. The barely-there glow of the shard is almost lost in the dim starlight, a weak energy source trapped within who knows how many years of isolation and darkness like so many others Sora’s liberated in his fights. There’s nothing particularly unique or special about it insofar as being a piece of rock that doubles as a terrible light source, but Sora’s come to respect that the Moogles are gifted with more than just a skilled touch when they transform such ugly stones into flawless gems. Riku’s look is distant as he studies the stone, head tilted as he turns the cloudy crystal from one side to the other, as if he’s seeing answers beyond anything the surface can reveal to him.
Sora’s gaze darts back to the mess he’s created in the sand around his knees, and by chance his eyes settle on a particular bottle now half buried in the dirt. He lets out a small whoop and quickly scoops it up, brushing sand from the outside. “I still have one!” he exclaims. He extends the hand holding the bottle and its azure contents to Riku, who has set his stone down to gaze curiously at Sora’s discovery.
“What is it?”
“My last elixir,” Sora announces with a grin.
Riku shakes his head and waves off the medicine. “Save it.”
“Riku,” Sora implores, the glass edges of the bottle pressing into the pads of his fingers as he shakes it in Riku’s direction. “You need to take something.”
“And we need to ration our supplies,” Riku reasons, mirroring Sora’s earlier thoughts. His face is turned away and hidden by a fall of silver hair, strands gleaming in the pale starlight. “I’ll be fine. There’s nothing to fight right now, and I can heal on my own. Save it for when we really need it.”
Of course, Sora knows he’s right. He exhales noisily as he drops the elixir back onto the mound of trinkets, resuming his earlier sorting of the sum total of their possessions. Spare keychains in a pile here, uncut gems over there, several rings and bracelets he hasn’t worn in ages, and two small green bottles of potion which get added alongside their lonely elixir, bringing the count up to three. Sora can’t help frowning at the meager piles on the sand, realizing that their silent shapes can’t provide further guidance. How are they going to survive on these alone, away from civilization and cut off from their friends?
A soft sigh from the other boy rouses Sora from his thoughts to glance at him. Riku lifts his arm and makes an aborted effort to wave his hand toward one of the small mounds. “I guess… something to help with the pain would be okay.”
“Really?” Sora asks in surprise.
“You’ve been sitting there looking like someone kicked your puppy for the past two minutes. What else am I supposed to do?”
“Stop being hard-headed?” Sora mumbles under his breath, but he’s cheering inwardly as he snatches up one of the small potions in the pile, the contents glowing faintly green and sealed at the top with a piece of cork.
“It’s just a potion,” Sora tells him as he pulls the stopper free and reaches across the space to hand the bottle to Riku. “But better than nothing, right?
Riku nods and drinks the glowing liquid in one quick swallow, his expression twisting unpleasantly as the bottle comes away from his lips.
“What’s wrong? Does it taste bad?”
“Way too sweet,” Riku explains, letting the empty container fall to the sand.
Sora picks up the discarded bottle and stopper and returns them to his pouch, then carefully scoops up the rest of his possessions, brushing off dirt where he can. He has a feeling that he’ll be finding sand in weird and uncomfortable places for a while, which will only get worse the longer they’re stuck here. Riku's unfamiliarity with this part of the realm means they have no way of knowing if anything changes or what dangers might arise the longer they stay. Even with the sheltering circle of rock the off-shore breeze is lifting goosebumps on Sora's flesh as the seawater evaporates off his skin, another reminder that they don't even have a spare blanket between them. With only one of them capable of moving around, that means preparing for the long haul will fall entirely on Sora.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Sora asks. The bags are repacked and set aside so he plants a fist on each knee and leans forward, watching for any sign of injury that the other boy might be unwilling to admit to. In the dim moonlight it’s hard to tell what might lie hidden underneath the layers of clothing, and Sora hasn’t forgotten how Riku had collapsed before he’d even taken more than two steps onto the beach. The sight of Riku lying there on the sand had been terrifying enough to stop his heart for a few seconds, and Sora’s unwilling to go through that feeling again all because Riku can be stubborn about asking for help.
“I’m alright,” Riku answers, predictably. His eyes are averted which is telling enough, and Sora refocuses his attention from Riku’s face to looking over his body, taking inventory of his clothes, the bend of his knee, and how he hasn’t once moved his left hand from where it sits cradled across his lap.
“I don’t believe you.” Sora’s eyes narrow, honing in on the tell-tale hint of injury. “He hurt your left arm, didn’t he?”
For a moment Riku doesn’t move or speak. His breathing is regular again thanks to the minimal healing magic of the potion, but the rigid line of his shoulders speaks more to Sora than Riku probably realizes. The dim light doesn’t reveal much of his expression, just shadows and shapes and illuminated outlines peeking out from the fall of his hair, the flat line of a mouth and the sharp point of his chin turned down to avoid making eye-contact.
Then, to Sora’s surprise, Riku lifts his right hand to hover over the fabric wrapped around his left forearm. “Yeah. His weapon, I think… the pain hit so fast it was hard to tell. It’s not so bad now, but it’s making me glad I’m not left-handed.”
“He would go for a cheap shot like that,” Sora grumbles sympathetically, but he’s secretly grateful for the confession he didn't have to fight for. “You probably shouldn’t use it for a while. Maybe… ah, wait, I have an idea.”
Sora’s hands go for the yellow belt around his legs to start tugging it loose, slipping the smooth leather strap out of the black loops that keep it secured around his thighs. Riku, watching all of this in silence, only shifts slightly when Sora pulls the last bit free and scoots closer to his left side, rising up on his knees with the strap held between his hands. He slips the back loop over Riku’s head and, with Riku’s cooperation, brings the opposite end of the belt under Riku’s damaged arm. Once the excess length is drawn around once more and cinched through a buckle at his shoulder, Riku is left sporting a sling in a cheery shade of sunshine yellow, a detail which draws a grin from Sora as he sits back to admire his handiwork.
“At least the color is decent," Riku says, inspecting the strap. When he looks up Sora catches the hint of a smile curving around the edge of his friend’s mouth. “So I guess it’ll do. Thanks.”
“Welcome,” Sora says, nodding. This one, small bit of ingenuity has bolstered his spirits considerably. He feels ready to tackle just about anything now, whether that be chopping down a swarm of Nobodies or swimming a few laps into the ocean to explore the bounds of their prison. Though first, they probably need to get a fire going.
Sora pushes off his knees to stand, brushing wet sand from the back of his shorts when he gets to his feet. “I’m going to look for firewood,” he says, peering into the ambient darkness that pervades the area. “Or anything that’ll burn, I guess.”
Riku nods in understanding, his torso settling against the rocky barrier of their campsite for the foreseeable future, limbs moving carefully into the least painful position. “Sure. Just don’t expect a search party if you’re gone too long.”
Sora smirks, his right hand lifting as Guardian Soul shimmers into existence with a burst of light under his grip. “If I’m gone too long it just means I’ve found something interesting to fight. Then you’ll be missing out on all the fun.”
Sora lazily spins the keyblade and settles the back of the red blade over his right shoulder as he turns to head out from their makeshift shelter. Riku coughs behind him once, a sound that could have been a muffled laugh, but says nothing else as Sora crosses outside the circle of stone and leaves his view.
The expanse of beach looks much the same in either direction as it does where they’ve taken shelter, with mounds of jet black boulders streaked with blue scattered across the ground, some piled atop each other and others shaped into imposing arches of stone that spiral and reach toward the heavens. A few of them extend right to the shoreline and Sora can see more of the twisted, black shapes jutting out of the water, like an eraser was applied to the landscape and left just the outlines of rolling hills and mountainous peaks. The haze has cleared off a bit and the orb of light that was hanging low in the sky when they arrived is now closer to the zenith, but the high fog makes it impossible to tell if it’s a moon, a star, or something else entirely. Either way, it’s there and they’re here, and without a portal or a ship to travel in… getting out of here is close to impossible.
Sora ends his skyward inspection and launches himself into a high jump that allows him to land atop the nearest boulder. From this vantage he can see the beach cuts off only a short distance inland and more dark mounds bespeckled with blue extend as far as the eye can see, until the distance and horizon blend together into an indistinguishable darkness that doesn’t encourage further exploration. Turning to look behind him, Sora realizes that finding his way back in this monotonous landscape might prove difficult. Even from this point his surroundings look bleakly uniform, devoid of life or movement save for the slight offshore breeze touching the skin on his neck.
Sora jumps to a taller set of boulders, then onto the wall of stone which serves as the back of their shelter, before sliding down the interior on the soles of his shoes to put himself back on the ground a short distance from Riku. The other boy stirs enough to lift his head, but the blade being held securely across Riku’s knee lets Sora know the relaxed posture is just for show.
“That was quick,” Riku says, his keyblade disappearing with a muted flash of light as Sora steps closer. “What’d you find?”
“Nothing. Yet,” Sora admits, one hand digging around in his pocket. He sticks the blade of Guardian Soul head first into the soft sand as he fishes out several keychains, using his free hand to poke through the assortment. After a moment he returns them to his pocket, save for one, and a second keyblade appears in his fist. Photon Debugger’s bright teal body illuminates the surrounding space better than Sora had hoped and he tosses the sword to Riku, who catches it easily with his good hand.
“And this is for…?” Riku prompts.
“It’s the best light source we’ve got,” Sora explains, yanking Guardian Soul out of the ground. “It’s too easy to get lost out there. Just keep it out. I’ll see it when I get close enough.”
“Good thinking.” The older boy swishes the blade a few times, causing it to leave a distinct swirl of blue-green in the air with each pass. Sora catches the hint of a grin in the transient light. “Where did you get this?”
“From a friend, inside a computer,” Sora answers, his smile turning rueful as Riku raises an eyebrow.
“Like a virtual reality?”
“Uh, I don’t know what that is,” Sora admits with a small laugh. “In Ansem’s study — or I guess, DiZ’s old workshop — there was this computer that controlled things in Radiant Garden. We were trying to figure out what was going on with it when it… pulled us inside? We met a nice guy, his name was Tron. He helped us get out and fix the whacky security system. His keychain made that sword.”
“Huh,” Riku intones thoughtfully, Photon Debugger’s blade still drifting through gentle arcs in front of his chest. “Think I could get one too?”
Sora’s hand droops unconsciously, the tip of Guardian Soul coming to rest against the sand. He would like more than anything to take Riku back to Radiant Guardian and show him the work the Restoration Committee has done, to introduce him to everyone and see how Riku handles Cid’s acerbic wit and Aerith’s unshakeable grace, to bring him to Tron’s world and show him the games and the strange colors, and watch Riku’s eyes light up when he gets his own keychain disk. He wants to make that promise to Riku, to give them hope for a future beyond this dark and barren landscape. Except… they both know they might not leave this place, that the darkness is where they’re going to stay. Doesn’t that mean Sora should be more careful about promising to give Riku things he’ll never have?
Photon Debugger’s blade stops swinging as Riku’s arm comes to a halt. Sora can feel his eyes on him, probing for the source of the sudden silence. “Sora?” Riku finally asks. He sounds mostly puzzled, but Sora thinks he can hear the first hint of concern coming through.
Sora takes a deep breath and hoists the keyblade back over his shoulder. He knows his role when it comes to this. It’s the same well-worn glove he’s donned for two years. Whether they find a way to leave the darkness or end up staying for an eternity, it’s his job to keep their spirits high. He’s already decided they’re going to survive being here together so it’s up to him to believe in it, to smile no matter how stacked the odds are against them.
“Next time we visit Radiant Garden, I’ll take you to meet Tron so you can have one too,” Sora declares brightly as he turns to leave, a smile plastered on his face. “And maybe get you some different clothes while we’re there.”
Riku’s amused voice follows him as he vaults to the top of their rocky shelter. “Who made you the fashion police?”
It takes a few more jumps before the over-stretched grin on Sora’s face drops away to something more genuine, his smile transforming into one that is small and private. He's really missed Riku. Donald and Goofy never had much faith in Riku ever coming back or being the same person he used to be, though they’d come along for every wild goose-chase Sora had run off on. Sora knows Riku isn’t the same person he was two years ago, but he’s yet to see a single change that warns of darker things to come. Not like that day in Traverse Town when he disappeared without a word. Or in Monstro when the whole situation still hadn’t seemed real and everyone was getting tired of telling him that Riku wasn’t the same person anymore. This Riku feels much closer to the one he remembers from Destiny Islands, the boy who teased without malice and who always pushed Sora to be better in both mind and body. Who could match Sora's energy and understand him at a glance, and who made all of Sora's weird edges feel like they had somewhere to slot into, instead of being flaws that needed to be smoothed down or hidden away. Sora wants to hold onto that so tightly his chest hurts with it. He won’t lose it, even if it means being their ever-smiling-light in this unending darkness. He’ll do it for Riku.
Sora decides to keep the shoreline to his right as he travels, hopping and leaping across the massive stones while half of his attention continues to watch keenly for any sign of danger behind the dark boulders. Maybe they really are closer to whatever strange border exists between the realms; it would explain the existence of this impossible beach, the odd sense of things being not quite the way they should be. Even the stars in the sky that keep this place from falling into complete and utter darkness are not what he expected to find in the realm meant to be devoid of all light. Maybe, if he runs long enough, this shore will change into something else, a path that will bring them one step closer back to the realm of light. It's an encouraging thought.
A few minutes later Sora hits a stretch of open ground and shifts to a loping run, sword clutched loosely at his side as his feet sink into the dark sand with each step. It slows him down but not enough to impede his journey — he has no destination in mind, only a hope to find some proof that this place doesn't truly continue on forever. Plus, if he travels too quickly, something could easily be missed, like wood to burn or something that will make their time here more bearable.
More sand slips away under his feet, then rocks again for several minutes — not big enough to bother jumping on but occasionally needing a well-timed vault to clear — and then quite abruptly everything ends.
Literally.
Sora skids to a stop, his momentum carrying him across loose sand and uncomfortably close to where the ground suddenly disappears into nothingness. A sea of stars against a black curtain stretches out in front of him, the tenuous clouds he’s been running beneath dissipating only a short distance beyond where he comes to a halt. The sheer drop-off runs jaggedly in front of him, stretching away to either side like he’s standing on the rim of a massive crater — except the bottom of this one leads to... nothing. Sora cautiously takes the last few steps forward, reckless curiosity pushing him to peer over the edge. Dirt and sand loosened by his shoes tumble over the side and into, what Sora can only guess is, the cold embrace of pure darkness.
With a visible shiver Sora steps back, and then takes several more as the small rocks closest to the edge clatter noisily over the precipice, slithering audibly down what appears to be… well, the edge of the realm. He’d hoped to find a change in the environment, but to find where ground ceases to exist so clearly, and so close to where they’re staying, makes his gut clench sharply. Now that he's standing still, Sora can hear that the hiss of moving sand never truly fades away. It’s a constant background noise that continues steadily, whispering around him as pieces of this place inexorably fall away into nothingness.
Sora jogs along the edge for a short distance until he finds an area of higher ground and compact rock formations, which he climbs steadily with one ear tuned for anything that might sound like ground breaking loose. The last thing he needs is to find himself tumbling through darkness on a chunk of rock for the rest of eternity. At the apex of the hill the view of the chasm below him is even more breathtaking and terrifying — the cliff of broken terrain is fathomless, not shorn off cleanly but horribly uneven and crumbling visibly as pieces continue to break free, knocked loose by the steady fall of dirt and water or by other pieces that have broken free. As Sora watches, a particularly large section shudders and detaches far in the distance, the audible crack of fracturing rock not reaching him until the piece is already tumbling free, visibly growing dimmer as it falls deeper into the void.
They need to get out of this place.
Sora runs back the way he came, leaping onto the tallest boulders he can spot as he vaults from one rock formation to the next. Now with a purpose in mind he covers the distance in a fraction of the time it took him to reach the edge, and it’s really only thanks to the faint green glow coming from a patch of rocks to his left that he even realizes he’s run right past their campsite. Sora turns back and leaps with enough force to send him completely over the top of the wall, sending him into a crouched roll over the soft sand on the opposite side a few feet away from Riku’s reclining form.
Riku sounds understandably puzzled by the over-the-top entrance. “Welcome back?”
“We’ve got a bit of a problem,” Sora explains, shaking sand out of his hair as he straightens.
“Only one?” Riku has the head of Photon Debugger planted in the sand and Sora can see his hand flex on the handle, grip poised for action.
“For now, but it's a pretty big one. I went down the beach a ways, and it just... stops. The ground is falling apart, going right back into the darkness. We can’t stay here.”
“Huh. Well that’s new.” Sora can see Riku relax his hold on the keyblade as he settles once more against the rock at his back. “How soon are we talking about?”
“Hours? Days? I’m not sure,” Sora admits. “I hit the edge and then ran back here. It didn't look very stable.”
“Or we’re just close to it here. But,” he continues, probably in response to Sora’s audible huff, “I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to, either.”
Sora covers the last few steps to where Riku is sitting, stopping just beside the bags that had been strapped to his hips earlier. He releases Guardian Soul and crouches in the dirt, forearms braced on his knees, lips pressed tightly in thought. “Got any ideas?”
Riku thinks silently for a moment before he shakes his head. "It sounds like our only option is to move further inland, deeper into the darkness." There's a brief pause, a small hitch to Riku's words followed by a slight thinning of his lips. "Which I'd rather not."
Sora nods quickly, discarding the option entirely as his chest twinges with sympathy; the last thing he would ever ask of Riku is to go back into the darkest parts of the realm. This side is practically a paradise, the land literally crumbing beneath their feet notwithstanding. "It definitely got pretty creepy looking out there. So, other options?"
Riku exhales slowly as he shifts, finding a less uncomfortable position against the stone wall. “Well... I have been wondering something. At first I thought finding a way into the Realm of Darkness was totally random. I was glad to get out of Xemnas’ hidey-hole. Now I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, look around,” Riku says, waving his hand to indicate their surroundings. “We're in the darkness but it's almost like being on a vacation. We've got a beach but no Heartless. There's even stars and some light here. If someone wanted an easy way to get into the Realm of Darkness, where the barrier is thinnest, this is it.”
Sora ceases dragging his fingertip through the sand to look up in confusion. “You think we got here on purpose?”
“Think about it. We were walking for a long time but that’s probably because we just didn’t know where to go. Which means the entrance to this place was there all along. We just got lucky enough to find it.”
Sora nods slowly. “I guess that makes sense. I've never seen a portal just show up for no reason.”
“But they can be put there by someone, or something.”
“So this is just... Xemnas’ private beach, or something?”
Riku shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe he was trying to find something here? Who knows.”
“So we’re stuck in the place that a deluded, self-obsessed psychopath who enjoyed brainwashing people liked to hang out? Now we’ve got two great reasons to get out of here.”
“Still have the problem of how to do that,” Riku points out.
“Well…” Sora begins, pausing a moment to collect his thoughts. “If we came through a door that was already there… maybe it’s still there?”
Riku’s silent contemplation leaves Sora rocking slightly on his heels, awaiting the older boy’s input. The thought of going back inside that swirling white void hardly sounds appealing, but it’s the better alternative than staying in a part of the realm that’s falling apart under their feet. And moving deeper into the darkness is completely out of the question. At least in the Nobodies' realm they might find a way to get back to the World That Never Was, or find another one of Xemnas’ doors to someplace a little less immediately dangerous. It’s a long shot, but Riku’s silence means he’s taking the suggestion seriously. Finally Riku nods. “It’s worth checking out.”
Sora springs to his feet, the little swell of new hope in his chest reinvigorating him almost better than an elixir. He extends a hand to Riku, who reaches for it without hesitation and allows himself to be pulled upright. Sora moves his hand to Riku’s arm instinctively, gripping it to steady the older boy whether he needs it or not. Riku doesn’t protest or shake him off, which is encouraging, and he nods after a couple of seconds of standing on his own.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Sora bends down to collect his packs and Riku’s discarded vest, which he balls up and stuffs inside the emptier pack of the two. All that’s left is Photon Debugger, which leans at an angle in the soft sand next to them. Sora picks it up and gives it a circular swing out of habit, the pale light cutting a visible arc through the air and lighting up both their faces. Sora can’t see much, but Riku’s aquamarine eyes reflect the light from the blade quite visibly, even behind the excessive curtain of hair in front of his face.
“You sure you can see okay through all that hair?” Sora asks cheekily, extending the lighted length of the keyblade away from them. “It’s already pretty dark out here.”
“I can see what I need to,” Riku says, and he does it so matter-of-factly that Sora knows it’s not false bravado. “Honestly it’s kind of… familiar. I guess.”
Riku takes several cautious but sure steps as he moves to leave their shelter, the movement validating his words despite Sora’s skepticism. Sora finds himself staring contemplatively at his friend’s back as he buckles the bags onto his belt. Riku’s been unusually open these last few hours, like his apology for having long-buried feelings of jealousy down at the beach. Having all that honesty was nice, and Sora couldn’t help reciprocating at the time. Riku’s words had soothed a few lingering hurts since leaving Destiny Islands, but quite honestly Sora had forgiven him for everything the moment Riku allowed the door to the Realm of Darkness to shut between them. He hasn’t been looking for Riku all this time to make him apologize for the horrible things that Maleficent made him do. Sora had known that Riku was out there somewhere, and his heart told him that nothing would be right again until Riku was back in his life.
Sora hopes that Riku doesn’t harbor any lingering urge to stay away, as the last thing he wants is for his friend to think Sora doesn't want him around. It’s something he wants to tell Riku but the timing just hasn’t seemed right. They haven’t had much opportunity to talk except for their conversation on the beach, since he spent most of the time in the void carrying Riku through bouts of unconsciousness and long stretches of boring, back-breaking silence. He’ll make sure to tell Riku once they get out, Sora decides, because right now leaving this place is by far the more immediate concern they need to deal with.
Sora moves to catch up to Riku as he circles around the edge of their stone-backed shelter. The beach lies only a short distance away and luckily Sora can still see most of their footprints in the sand from when they made their trek inland. The water line hasn’t come up much higher than where it was earlier either, leaving the evidence of their movements mostly untouched. When they reach the area where the boulders begin to thin down to the shore Sora halts, scanning the ground for signs of their previous tracks. He remembers the general vicinity where they appeared on the beach but finding the exact spot means retracing their steps without accidentally walking over them first.
Riku stops beside him, slinged arm brushing Sora’s sleeve as he also surveys the area in front of them. Sora’s pleased to note that Riku’s limp is almost entirely gone and he’s standing straighter too, though his left arm is pressed against his side protectively, guarding hand and ribs alike. When they get out of here, blasting him with a curaga is the first thing on Sora’s to-do-list.
“See any footprints?” Sora asks, waving the keyblade over the ground like the replacement flashlight it's become.
Riku says nothing but moves forward carefully, taking a full step before scanning the ground near him, and then again, continuing to slowly cross the expanse of beach they’d been sitting at the edge of earlier. Sora follows just behind Riku, silently providing what light he can as Riku pauses, examines the surrounding ground, and then moves forward again. After a minute or so Riku halts and points with his right hand to a spot a few feet away from them.
“Over there. I think I see them.”
Sora moves around him to shine the light and catches what Riku had seen on his own: a trio of sunken footprints next to a bumpy line of sand extending down to the water and back toward the inland rock formations.
Sora grins in relief. “Nice. You found that pretty fast.”
Riku lifts his good hand and points just past them. “Look. That's where they end.”
Sure enough, a depression of sand and a set of footprints just behind it cease abruptly, marking where Sora and Riku had literally appeared out of thin air onto the beach. It looks a little bizarre, seeing the tracks vanish like that. Things like portals and being able to walk from one world to another has been a little harder for him to wrap his head around despite everything he’s seen and encountered so far. Space travel seemed like a no-brainer once he’d found out other worlds existed, because rockets were nothing new and at least that involved crossing a physical distance. Except this is pure magic, not the kid stuff that they used to pretend to be able to do, but the kind that can change reality and hurt people when wielded by the wrong hands.
“Remember that story Tidus once told us?” Sora asks, sticking the head of his keyblade into the sand for balance and crouching down to examine the impressions. “About the footprints that he found one morning on the island, going from the beach to the hiding place?”
“Yeah?”
“I always figured him and Wakka were messin’ with us, using planks or something to make it look like they just appeared and disappeared. I saw them too, one time. I figured they’d gone to the island the night before to prank us again. They looked weird but it didn’t seem real, just a joke or something.” Sora looks up and can see that Riku is watching him in the blue light of the keyblade. “But it was probably Ansem, wasn’t it? The Heartless one. Checking out the keyhole in the secret cave.”
Riku nods. “I don’t have his memories anymore, but I know that he did. More than once. I had no idea that monster was trespassing on our island.”
“Well we don’t have to worry about that bastard anymore,” Sora says with satisfaction. It really does feel good to finally be rid of Ansem and all his incarnations. Finding nothing revealing in the damp markings in front of him, Sora straightens and stretches out his back. “Any sign of a door?”
Riku extends his right hand into the space in front of him, palm facing outward and fingers slightly curled, as if attempting to grasp something out of the air. He maintains the stance for a long moment but eventually drops his arm with a muted sigh. “There’s something there… something dark. It could be the door. But I can’t make it open. I don’t think we can get out this way.”
“But, if you can even sense it… that should mean something, right?”
“Maybe…” Riku agrees, but his voice is quiet, skeptical. “I think I could do it if I still had Ansem’s powers. But DiZ’s machine changed that. It’s like seeing an outline on a wall. I can tell there’s something there but no way through it. When I try to open it, it’s like my hand… my will, just slides away. I don't know how else to describe it.”
Sora closes his eyes in thought, index finger coming to rest on his chin. “So it’s a door you can’t open. Could it just be locked? Want to try using the keyblade?”
“I don’t think that’s how corridors of darkness work. I've never opened one with a keyblade. I always had to use dark powers, Ansem's powers.”
“But I don’t sense anything,” Sora points out, leaning into the space where, supposedly, this door-like outline exists. He rotates his head left to right, as if hoping to catch hints of whatever dark energy Riku is sensing. “Nothing. But you can feel it, right? That’s gotta mean something.”
Riku remains silent, too long, and Sora swallows down a burst of sour guilt on the back of his tongue. He's so stupid. He can almost hear the other boy’s thoughts bouncing around in his head: that darkness never truly goes away, it just gets pushed back by the light. Riku will always have an affinity for it, even if he doesn’t want it.
Sora clears his throat and dismisses the keyblade in his hand, successfully drawing Riku’s attention to him. “Look, how did King Mickey get around so much? Donald and Goofy seemed just as surprised to see him at the castle, and I don’t think he was using a gummi ship either.”
“I have seen him use a corridor before,” Riku acknowledges. “But I think that’s just something he knows how to do. When we got separated from inside the Realm of Darkness he wasn’t able to get out until he connected to me, and I only got out because...”
Sora leans in as Riku trails off into silence. “Because?”
Riku remains quiet for a long moment, prompting Sora to bend to the side to get a better view of his face. Which isn’t much, for what it’s worth. “Riku?”
“I think you should try,” Riku says, turning to meet Sora’s gaze. His eyes are alight, expression surprisingly earnest. “I know it sounds weird, but I'm pretty sure you’ve done it before. I’ve seen you create your own corridors. Maybe it works the same way Mickey’s does.”
Sora almost takes a step back from the look Riku is giving him, but he manages to hold his ground as he straightens. A small, confused laugh escapes him. “I think I would know if I had the power to make portals appear out of nowhere.”
“I think you just don’t know you can do it,” Riku counters, which is the most ridiculous thing Sora's heard.
“Well if I don’t know I can do it, how’s that going to help us?” Sora bites out with a roll of his eyes.
As if sensing Sora's rising frustration, Riku holds up his good hand and shrugs apologetically. “I don’t know. I wish I could tell you how. I don’t think it works the way it did for me or Mickey. But I know you can do it."
Sora crosses his arms. "Okay, say I believe you. How exactly do you know for sure? Why don't I know about this?"
Riku turns his head slightly to look somewhere toward the shoreline over Sora's shoulder, silver hair slipping over his bare shoulder as it gets ruffled by another breeze. It takes the weight of Riku's earnest, though most likely misplaced, stare away and Sora feels himself breathing a little easier, some of the urge to fight and argue bleeding out of him.
"When we were here before, the King and I searched a long time for a way out but there was nothing. Just darkness. We would make camp when we got too tired to keep going. It wasn’t easy to rest, but we had to sleep in between attacks from the Heartless. I would dream... a lot, to be honest. About the past, about what I’d done. About Kairi, and the island, and Hollow Bastion. Sometimes I would dream about you, and…”
Riku pauses and Sora finds himself holding his breath. He can't begin to guess what sort of dreams Riku was having about him — had Sora haunted his sleeping mind, the same almost-nightmares, as Riku had done in his? Had Riku been thinking about Sora, even if only half as much as Sora had thought of him? He hadn't let himself hope more than the bare minimum while trying to track down clues to the other boy's whereabouts, too afraid that the clear distance Riku was putting between them, the purposeful way that Riku came and went as if he was too busy to stop and speak to Sora, was where their friendship had diminished to. He knows now why Riku made the decision to stay away, but the memories of those stings of rejection, the confusion and uncertainty, are hard to forget.
Riku eventually shakes his head. "It's not important. The last time we made camp together, I took the first watch. We hadn’t seen any Heartless in hours and I was sure they were just waiting to attack while we had our guard down. When King Mickey took over I don't even remember falling asleep, I was so exhausted."
Riku pauses to take in a deeper breath, then winces visibly, his right hand moving to hover over the bruised ribs hidden under his dark shirt. Sora can't help taking a small step closer, fingers twitching with the urge to call up another healing spell. He hates seeing Riku in pain, almost as much as he hates that he still doesn't have enough magic to do anything about it.
"You okay?" Sora asks.
"Yeah, I'm okay," Riku insists, straightening his shoulders a little. "This part of the story is important. I can still remember what I dreamed that night. I was watching you walk down a road, and it was getting darker and things started feeling off, like I could tell something bad was going to happen. Then the road took you to the beach of our island but the whole place was falling to pieces. I was suddenly there with you, just like on that night when the keyhole opened. Except you were holding your hand out to me this time, telling me to grab it. The darkness was pulling me into it but, somehow, you managed to grab me. You grinned and said, ‘I got you’. And that’s when I woke up in the basement of Castle Oblivion.”
“You what!?” Sora yells in surprise.
Riku steps closer and drops his hand on Sora’s shoulder, halting the tidal wave of questions about to spill from his mouth. “That’s a story for later. What I’m trying to say is that you’re the one that took me out of the Realm of Darkness. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it and there’s no other explanation for it. How could I have gotten into the castle when I wasn’t even using the power of darkness to open corridors yet? And I think Kairi’s heart got inside you the same way. You have a way of… connecting to people. Of opening a way for them, to keep them safe. I don't know if it's the same power, but I think it makes the most sense. I think you have the ability to open your own kind of portal, the way Mickey can open his.”
“But—” Sora begins to argue, purely out of habit, but falls silent as Riku’s words fully sink in. He can tell that Riku isn't lying but it sounds so far-fetched, so weird to even think that he has the power to do something like that, even unconsciously. Of course it would be fantastic if it were true, because Sora would gladly open up a door to take them out of here, but if it were that easy…
“If it was that easy, wouldn’t I have done it already?” Sora points out.
“Maybe you’ve just never tried on purpose before,” Riku replies reasonably. “What could it hurt?”
Sora crosses his arms again, lips pursing in thought as Riku’s hand leaves his shoulder. This feels like really flimsy evidence to pin their hopes on, even if Sora wants to believe that he was the one to rescue Riku from the Realm of Darkness. He barely remembers his time in that convoluted castle beyond the first day, let alone what he might have been thinking at the time. They were always searching for the King and Riku after closing the door to Darkness, so what made that time any different? It doesn't make sense that it would work then, but not during any of the months after they woke up. Sora would have given anything to find out he had the power to bring Riku to his side at will.
There’s no way Sora has that kind of power. He would have used it a dozen times by now if it were that simple.
Except Riku sounds so sincere and sure about this. Maybe he's right. It's worth it to at least try.
Sora sighs and uncrosses his arms, taking a few steps forward past Riku before lifting both hands to point his palms away from him. He wiggles his gloved fingers. “Alright then. Door… open?”
Sora can feel his neck beginning to grow warm with embarrassment as the seconds tick by. He doesn’t feel anything. No secret power inside of him, no sense of change, and especially nothing like a door in space and time opening. It’s just him, Riku, and the sound of the waves lapping rhythmically against the shore.
“Are you actually trying?” Riku queries behind him.
Sora spins around guiltily. “No! Because I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Riku sighs and steps closer, his right hand lifting again to settle on Sora’s hunched shoulders. “Hey, calm down. I know it’s asking a lot but, you have to realize… Sora, you’re kind of amazing.”
Sora feels himself flushing under the unexpected praise. “What do you mean?”
“You’re a keyblade bearer. You’ve saved the universe, twice. You rescued Kairi, me, and all the Princesses. You defeated Ansem, and then did it again to his Nobody. You took out half of the Organization. You’ve got no reason to believe you can’t do this too.”
Face still warm, Sora shuffles his feet in the sand. He can feel the hand on his shoulder squeezing; not hard or painful, just with weight and reassurance. “I don’t know,” Sora admits quietly. “Can’t you help me?”
Sora lifts his eyes to meet Riku’s, which are watching him in return, gaze steady and considering. “What did you think about?” Riku asks after a moment.
“When I tried…?”
Riku nods.
“That I think you're wrong and I don't have that kind of power,” Sora confesses. “How much I probably would have abused it by now if I actually did. That this place is depressing and I'm glad you got out but it probably wasn't me. Stuff like that.”
“Well, there’s your first problem,” Riku says with a small shake of Sora’s arm, his face half-visible in the low light. “Try thinking of being somewhere else. Reach out to the people who want to see you. Picture them in your mind. Feel the connections you’ve made with all your heart.”
That doesn't sound too hard to do. He’s done nothing but think about his friends since he stepped out of the pod in his old ill-fitting clothes. He visited their worlds to make sure they were safe from Nobodies and monsters, tried to help them make their homes beautiful again, smoothed over misunderstandings, and reunited more than one person with someone they cared deeply about. But Sora also knows that everywhere he turned, every world he traveled to, he was looking for Riku. Only to come so close over and over again, catching nothing but a glimpse, a whispered name, a cloaked figure just out of reach. How many nights did he lie awake staring at the smooth walls of his bunk, hoping that on the next world, somewhere around the next corner, he’d find Riku again?
So where else could he possibly need to go, now that he finally has what he was searching for?
“Sora? Ready to try it again?”
Sora licks his lips, a hint of salted air and sweat diffusing on his tongue. He shakes his head. The slim chance of being able to do what Riku asks seems even farther away now. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Come on,” Riku insists, this time laughing a little. “I know how badly you want to see Kairi. Don’t you think she wants to see you again, too? I saw you still carry that charm around in your bag.”
“I promised to give it back to her,” Sora huffs, something inside him bristling defensively at Riku's casual assumption. Donald and Goofy used to tease him in a similar way for a long time, and he hadn't liked it then either. Sora steps aside and Riku’s hand falls away, allowing him to turn and look at the shoreline near them. They said a lot of things down there, sitting by the water, things that had made Sora feel like everything was going to be okay for the first time in a long while. Riku still thought they were friends and he said they were going to stay together. Those words had made Sora so happy, more than Riku probably realizes. But now Riku wants them to leave, for Sora to go back to Kairi and everyone else.
Why does everyone keep assuming they know what Sora wants?
“I thought we were staying here forever,” Sora says quietly.
“And now we might have a way out. You saw it yourself. This world is falling apart.”
It does seem silly to cling to, now that Sora knows the reality of their situation. How could they have survived forever in the Realm of Darkness, with no food or shelter or supplies? Riku can walk now but he’s still hurt and needs to have his arm and ribs healed the rest of the way. Of all places for them to wind up, finally reunited and with a chance to mend the gap of two years apart, why did it have the be the last place they could possibly stay together?
Sora takes a few steps away from Riku toward the beach, stopping when he feels the damp sand pull on his shoes. Glancing down, Sora clenches his hands into fists and then lets them relax, palms up and finger tips exposed past the end of his gloves. There’s nothing for them here, no way to live and no hope for a future. It’s the same thing as the white Nobody realm — a different color and a different place, but just as much of a prison. A dead-end.
Think about the people he's formed connections with. The friends he's made on other worlds. How can he even find them when they’re so far apart? How do you feel a connection to someone when you don’t even know where they are or what they’re feeling?
"What?" Sora asks, turning back to Riku. The words had been so quiet he'd barely heard the other boy speaking.
"I didn't say anything," Riku answers from several feet behind him.
"Okay…" Sora says skeptically.
Turning back to the water, Sora takes a deep breath of the stale, salty air. This time he closes his eyes. What’s the secret to this power Riku thinks he has? He said to think about his friends, the people he wants to see. But his memories are jumbled, like glossy photos slipping over each other. Mulan’s face slides into view — she’s pretty amazing, so strong, a fighter but also a good friend. And Mushu was loyal and always there when Sora needed him, even though he was kind of weird. But can he feel them, the connection that Riku’s talking about? The thought is barely in his mind before their faces are gone.
“...know... Sora...”
“I’m trying to think. Be quiet, Riku.”
Does he have to be sleeping, like the way Riku says happened to him? Will it only work in a dream? Sora consciously pictures Donald and Goofy, trying to put as much detail as possible into the mental image. From Donald’s tailored coat (he was so fussy over keeping that clean) to the goggles on top of Goofy’s head that he always forgot were up there. He misses his friends, Sora can’t deny that. Imagining them makes his chest ache, but it’s a different feeling than the hole in his heart he carried around while searching for Riku. He knows that somewhere out there, they’re safe and King Mickey is looking after them. He can almost feel their relief and joy at finally finding their King again, finally reunited after over a year of searching. They’re just as happy as Sora feels about finding Riku.
“...reach... to Sora... here.”
That isn’t Riku’s voice. Sora can tell clearly now that the words aren't being spoken close to him. It's… like hearing a thought in his head, an echo of a memory of someone speaking, except the voice is unmistakably new. Who's talking? Why do they know him?
“Who are you?” Sora murmurs.
What follows is strange, like the familiar sensation of his keyblade turning in the lock of a world heart, except Sora can now feel what's on the other side. Someone is worried, they feel powerless, and they want Sora’s help — he knows, somehow, that the owner of the feelings and the voice are one and the same.
And just like that, Sora knows he can’t turn away from that plea. If there’s someone out there who needs him, however far away, he could never live with himself if he didn’t at least try. He doesn’t know how, or where, but whenever they get off this rock he’ll find them. Whether it’s a stranger or a friend, he’ll make that connection. He’ll find a way.
“I’m coming, I promise,” Sora whispers.
“Sora!” Riku shouts, the excitement in his voice snapping Sora’s eyes open in surprise. “You did it!”
There in front of him, a column of light hovers above the sand. Sora draws in a sharp breath and blinks in amazement.
“It feels amazing,” Riku says softly as he moves to stand beside him. Sora nods in mute agreement. He did this. He doesn’t know how for sure yet, but Riku was right all along. The light feels warm on his skin, bringing the coolness of the realm into sudden contrast. The golden hue emanating from the depths seems to wash over him with a sense of welcome, urging him to step forward.
“Oh… wow. I really did it.”
Riku gives him a grin that’s almost brighter than the light washing over them. “I knew you could. Come on, let’s go.”
As they step forward the column appears to widen, stretching like a set of doors slowly opening to beckon them through. Before Sora can think on the action he places his arm around Riku’s back, clutching at the material above Riku’s waist with a grip that’s probably harder than it needs to be. He feels the hand near his arm lift to rest over his shoulders and realizes that Riku is holding him nearly as tightly as he is. It makes Sora smile as they step into the light, footsteps moving in tandem.
The golden light is near blinding as they clear the threshold and with one more step it takes them suddenly out of it into pitch black. Whatever lies on the other side is cold and the abrupt drop in temperature causes pricks of pain across his neck and cheeks. Sora blinks and rubs his eyes to clear the glowing spots from his vision. They’re not actually in total darkness he realizes, as his eyes begin to adjust. The air smells cleaner and faintly woodsy, and the distinct scent of frosty vapor nips at his quickly chilling nose. There are boxed shapes around them, regularly spaced… and a fountain?
“This isn’t Destiny Islands,” Riku grunts, sounding cold and understandably baffled. “Where are we?”
Looking around again, Sora realizes that the dark shapes are in fact buildings, their glass paned windows reflecting silver starlight and the glow made by a few lanterns hanging off posts and porch eaves. They appear to be standing in a rather large courtyard, or on a street, and the ground is a neat pattern of flat stones that circle around the large fountain which dominates the center of the area. To their left the cobblestones narrow to become an arched bridge, a low wall on either side dotted with a few hanging lamps, and the road continues a way before it seems to disappear over a low hill. The street is deserted and everything around them is covered in a thin layer of frost. Save for the few glowing points of light and one or two wooden carts that Sora can see nearby, there doesn’t seem to be any other evidence of life.
“I’ve never seen this place before,” Sora admits, beginning to feel a little worried and guilty. Why did the door of light bring them here?
Riku’s arm falls from his shoulder and Sora removes the hand wrapped behind Riku’s back to cross his arms, conserving what warmth he still has. A sudden burst of noise makes them both turn, Sora instinctually falling into a half-crouch, hands at his sides and feet braced apart to jump or dodge.
The source of the sound isn’t an enemy however, but rather a large building situated at the edge of the road behind them. This one is well illuminated from within, towering several stories over the street, and the noise from earlier reaches them again — a crash of movement inside, this time accompanied by the roar of laughter.
“I th—think we found where everyone is,” Riku says. The quaver of his voice isn’t surprising since he’s only wearing the same tank top and pants he’s had on since taking off his Organization XIII coat, and the temperature outside is dipping close to freezing.
“Let’s go,” Sora says. Dangerous or not, they need to get out of this chill. Plus, there are some really inviting smells coming from the building.
They approach the front of the structure, a sign just to the right of the entrance inscribed with the words ‘Le Pub’ in rather sloppy penmanship. Upon pushing open the inner swinging doors a wave of welcome heat and the smell of ale and freshly baked bread washes over them. Sora feels and hears his stomach immediately rumble in anticipation. The interior of the tavern is quite spacious and even noisier on the inside than they could hear while standing on the street. Most of the tables are occupied by men and women in all states of dress and age, and the clank of mugs and scrape of utensils can be heard between the bouts of laughter and good-natured shouting going on among the groups.
“Uh, Sora, what are you wearing?”
Riku's tone makes Sora immediately glance down at his clothing. The pub’s light reveals that rather than his usual black jumpsuit, the material has transformed into what passes for normal in this world. A pair of boots cover his feet and extend midway up his shins, leaving the dark pants on his legs tucked inside. His jacket has become a dark gray coat that extends almost to his knees, with long sleeves and wide cuffs around his wrists, all sitting over a red vest and a black, long-sleeved shirt underneath. The bags at his waist are now a satchel with a strap that sits on his left shoulder and hangs down to rest at his hip.
“Huh. My new look, I guess,” Sora says.
“At least this changed too,” Riku points out, gesturing toward the sling around his injured hand. No longer thin yellow straps, it’s now a white piece of cloth that cradles the full length of his arm and sports a knot tied where his neck and shoulder meet. It’s too bad Riku never got his own set of magical clothing like Sora did, but at least they’re out of the cold and, more importantly, out of the Realm of Darkness for good.
“Come on. Let’s get some food and meet the locals.”
The patrons are distracted enough that their entrance goes completely unnoticed, so Sora and Riku approach a lengthy bar which runs along the entire back wall of the room. A man in a waistcoat stands behind it at the leftmost corner, in the process of dutifully wiping down a collection of steins and placing them on a set of shelves that run along the back wall. On closer inspection Sora can see how ill-fitting the jacket is on him, short under the arms and flapping loosely about his wrists, and only when they come up to the bar does he realize the man is actually standing on a crate to bring him up to the height of the countertop.
Sora clears his throat to get the bartender’s attention, and then has to repeat it louder when a burst of laughter drowns him out.
“Oui? Oh, bonsoir,” the little man says as he turns around, his plump nose quivering. Small eyes underlined by dark bags look Sora and Riku up and down, brows pinching in puzzlement. “Do you… need something?”
“Something to eat?” Sora asks hopefully, throwing in a smile for good measure. “And a room if you’ve got one.”
“Hrmph. You are not from around here, non? Show me your coin, then we’ll talk.”
Sora’s smile falls quickly. “Um… let me see what I’ve got.”
Fishing through the pockets of his pants, Sora grabs a handful of what remaining munny he still has. Normally on trips to other worlds Donald took care of any coin that had to be exchanged, though Sora’s always kept some on hand for the odd supply run or if some local merchandise caught his eye. Now he’s grateful to have even that much as he reveals the extent of his wealth to the bartender.
The man’s eyes narrow speculatively. “Hm, could be enough. How long are you staying?”
“Just tonight,” Riku says from behind him. Sora opens his mouth but then shuts it again; Riku's been right about everything so far up to this point, it seems silly not to trust him to have a better idea of what they're going to do now that they're on another world.
“Oui. Vous restez,” the man says shortly, snatching all of the coins out of Sora’s open hand. “Find a seat. I’ll send Paulette with your food.”
Since the tables in the main room are completely occupied, Sora and Riku move down the bar toward a set of empty stools. This also places them closer to the enormous stone fireplace that dominates one wall of the tavern, the heat emanating from it a welcome relief compared to the freezing air outside.
“Wow,” Sora deadpans as he perches atop the leather seat, faint disgust lacing his voice as he eyes the collection of stuffed animal heads which cover the nearby wall from floor to timbered ceiling. “Someone really likes to hunt.”
“Probably the guy in the picture.” Indeed, the space above the mantle is wholly dominated by a massive portrait of a man in a red shirt wielding a musket, one knee bent as he stands against a backdrop of forest-covered mountains.
“Maybe he’s a local celebrity,” Sora muses, though he finds the ostentatious decor stomach-turning. He’s met a fair number of talking animals in his time, but at least none of the mounted heads look like any species he’s run into on other worlds. Whoever this guy is, Sora is pretty sure he could never get along with him just on that principle alone.
Riku settles onto the barstool to his left, leaning his good arm against the polished counter’s surface. “Nothing seems familiar?”
“No,” Sora admits with a sigh. He stretches both arms overhead with a few pops from his back and lets out another, bigger sigh of relief. “I don’t mind though. There’s people, and food, and we get to sleep in a bed tonight. I call that a win.”
“I agree,” Riku says, looking at something past Sora. Sora swivels on his seat and sees a blonde woman approaching them from a doorway off the end of the bar, a large tray balanced on one hand and empty mugs clutched in the other. She unloads their meal from the tray, two bowls of hot stew and a half-loaf of brown bread to share between them, then turns around to one of the enormous barrels behind the bar counter and begins filling each cup with ale straight from the tap. Sora watches the whole process in fascination, grinning eagerly when the barmaid sets the steins down in front of them perfunctorily, causing the foamy tops to slosh dangerously close to the edges.
“Thank you!” Sora gushes, already chewing on a piece of the warm bread.
Riku nods and echoes the same, albeit without as much gusto. The serving girl, Paulette presumably, does a double-take in Riku’s direction and suddenly smiles with a none-too-subtle bat of her eyelashes. She leans over the counter and uses a finger to put Riku’s drink closer to his good hand, which happens to also bring the stretch of skin above her dress and the ample cleavage residing within into full view.
“Oui, the pleasure is all mine,” she purrs, and from the corner of his eye Sora can see the tips of her fingers brush casually against Riku’s hand as she removes them from his mug.
Sora doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath as Riku merely picks up his cup and drinks from it, clearly ignoring Paulette’s flirting with little effort. She stays only a moment longer, red lips twitching with what may be amusement despite the lack of response on Riku’s part, before turning to leave with a twirl of her green dress.
Feeling quite happy with everything at the moment, Sora leans over enough to bump his shoulder against Riku’s. “I think she likes you.”
Riku shrugs, scooping up a hefty spoonful of stew. “She can look all she wants. Doesn’t mean I’m interested.”
Sora goggles at Riku a moment, then can’t help chuckling. Riku having confidence in his looks is definitely a new development, though it seems he isn’t letting it get to his head. Really, Sora can’t blame girls for looking at Riku. His eyes can be magnetic when they fix on you, clear and green like one of the rare emerald tide pools found on Destiny Islands. Along with his long silver hair and muscular arms bare to the world, even Sora can see what they’d find attractive about his friend.
Conversely, Sora isn’t surprised in the least that he got no more than a passing glance from someone like Paulette. It's no great loss to his ego, and quite honestly he’s glad for it. Women like her are about as uninteresting as it gets when it comes to members of the opposite sex. Maybe it’s just his upbringing talking, but he would much rather spend his time talking to girls like Kairi, or Aerith, or Belle. The sort of girls that are genuine and honest, who don’t care about looks or showing off their chests. The kind that have gentle hearts and intelligent minds, who are fun to talk to and hang out with. He's been really fortunate to have made so many friends like that already.
Still, Sora's not totally naive about how things work. He’s seen enough of the worlds to know that he might find someone like Paulette attractive someday — that he’s supposed to eventually appreciate the view she offers. So far, that day hasn’t arrived yet. It seems to not have hit Riku yet either, though Sora finds this a little harder to believe. Of course Sora noticed the deeper pitch of Riku’s voice once he’d gotten his body back and that he’d experienced a noticeable growth spurt since the last time they stood face-to-face. There’s just something about the way he holds himself now, something that was never there when they were younger — a new element Sora feels like he instinctually recognizes makes Riku appealing to the opposite sex. Sora can’t help hoping that he might gain even one-tenth of the allure that’s been bestowed on Riku during the mysterious transition of puberty. Or if he's lucky, at least get tall enough that he doesn't have to keep tipping his head back to look at Riku's face. It’s been years since they were close to being the same height.
They eat most of their meal in silence, with Sora occasionally nudging Riku to look at another ridiculous wall-mounted trophy. Paulette comes by once more to refill their ale and Riku’s cool politeness in her presence almost sends Sora into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of it. Frankly, he feels embarrassed on her behalf — watching a grown woman thrust out her bosom and deliver ever more coy looks in Riku’s direction while she takes her time pouring their drinks. When she leaves, Sora lets out the most restrained snort of laughter he can, which justifiably earns him a palm to the face as Riku smothers him into silence. The following tussle somehow turns into a battle over the last hunk of bread (even though Sora’s bowl is empty, it was really good bread), but it comes to an end when an uncomfortably loud belch makes Riku drop Sora out of the headlock he has him in.
“Gross,” Riku says, nose wrinkling as he sops up the last of his stew with his victory prize.
“Payback for rubbing your sweat all over my head,” Sora says with a grin.
“The smell is an improvement, trust me,” Riku retorts around a mouthful of bread.
“Bonsoir messieurs, excuse me for interrupting,” a deep voice says from behind them.
Sora and Riku both turn to see an older man smiling at them, stout and round about the middle, with auburn hair and a full beard under apple pink cheeks. He’s dressed in the same simple clothes as the rest of the patrons, including a white apron that covers him from chest to knee.
“Hi!” Sora greets, extending a hand to the stranger. With an even bigger grin the man accepts the handshake quite firmly, then does the same again when Riku offers his good hand over as well.
“Can we help you?” Riku asks curiously.
“Only to appease my curiosity,” the man replies, chuckling to himself. “The messieurs at my table were wondering what brought you to our small village of Villeneuve. It’s not often we have visitors, and none dressed so strangely. Are you passing through or on some other business?”
“Just passing through,” Riku replies easily, to which Sora nods in agreement. “We’re actually just going to—”
“A circus!” Sora interrupts, his eyes sparkling. “We’re on our way to a circus. To join it. My brother and I have always wanted to join the circus. Isn’t that right, Riku?”
With a barely audible sigh, Riku follows Sora’s lead. “Yes, Sora. I’ve always wanted to join the circus.”
“You should see his juggling act. It’s amazing! Well, I mean when his arm is doing better,” Sora adds with an apologetic shrug.
The man laughs, clearly delighted by the thought. “Magnifique! Then let our town give you rest on your journey. You could have picked no better place to spend your coin. It’s only a shame that… well, I’m sorry that Monsieur Gaston couldn’t be here to greet you himself.”
“Who’s Gaston?” Sora asks.
An unnatural silence falls abruptly within their immediate vicinity. A fork drops with a clatter atop a nearby table, punctuating the end of Sora’s question. “Who’s Gaston!?” someone repeats in disbelief.
This causes a further ripple of silence throughout the tavern, rapidly bringing every conversation to a halt. Hands are left suspended midway through lifting cups and Sora feels his initial confusion quickly giving way to embarrassment — he hadn’t expected the simple question to lead to such a dramatic shift in everyone’s mood. Somewhere on the other side of the room a woman begins to sob loudly and Sora slides down lower on his stool, acutely embarrassed by the sudden change.
“Gaston was the best!” a voice proclaims loudly, clear across the tavern, prompting several murmurs of agreement.
“Hear hear!” another voice cries out, a mug lifted high on the end of an arm Sora can just barely see over the sea of heads around him. A few more follow suit, beer steins rising to toast their neighbor, and this seems to break the collective silence as more voices begin to join in. “He was the strongest!” “So handsome!” “The best fighter!” “Could lift an ox with one arm!” “Ate a dozen eggs each morning!”
As if this were some sort of cue, the airy whine of an accordion begins to play from another corner — initially slow but gradually picking up in tempo — and after a few seconds a chirpy sounding harmonica joins in. The two play for several seconds, each adding to the song and transitioning it away from the somber dirge toward something more playful and upbeat.
To Sora’s surprise, the man standing in front of them wipes a tear from the corner of his eye with the edge of his apron. “Mais oui, Gaston was our hero,” he says, mustache wobbling with emotion as he takes a deep breath. “We’ve needed some merriment around here. Monsieur Gaston would have surely wanted us to carry on in his name, even though he’s gone. Please enjoy yourself, messieurs. This is now a special night.”
The man departs from their corner of the bar to rejoin one of the tables. It doesn’t take long for nearly every patron in the bar to join together singing the same song, although they are terribly out of sync with each other. As the tune gathers momentum, a complementing tempo can be heard being banged on tabletops by the bottoms of beer mugs along with a counterpoint of stomping feet. Among the words Sora picks out the name “Gaston!” several times, along with clearly overblown descriptions of his physical features and hunting prowess, all being sung with the same unabashed reverence and emotion only the drunk can manage.
“I always knew you were meant to be a circus clown,” Riku says in the lamest attempt at sounding nonchalant Sora’s ever heard.
Sora falls back on his stool, belly shaking with laughter. The ale seems to have gone to his head, because it takes Riku putting him into another headlock for almost a full minute before his muffled giggles finally fade. When Riku lets him go, Sora slumps boneless over the countertop, one cheek pressed against the cool, varnished wood. It feels soothing against his flushed face.
“I’ve really missed you, Riku,” Sora says, blinking to focus on the face of the boy next to him. He feels Riku’s hand land atop the back of his head, patting the strands absently. Sora’s eyelashes flutter as the fingers in his hair flex and slip lower to grip the back of his neck.
“I missed you too, dummy. Even if you are terrible at making up cover stories.”
“Shut up,” Sora retorts, smiling as he lets his eyes close for a moment. He’d like to see Riku think up something that quick next time. Sora’s the best at talking to strangers. This whole adventuring business? Sora’s got it down so hard. He’s a bonafide expert. “I’m the best.”
Riku hums with a hint of amused skepticism, but it’s okay because the hand on his neck just squeezes again and Sora hiccups into the countertop, grinning helplessly.
*~*~*
Almost an hour later, Riku — now wearing a long brown coat — and a flushed faced Sora ascend the back stairs to the chillier third story of the tavern. A hallway of closed doors and a solitary window outlining a clear night sky greet their tired footsteps.
Sora is still laughing to himself as Riku leads the way to the room they’ve been given by the bartender. “Did you— Riku, did you see that guy hanging from the chandelier? He still had his drink in his hand, but how... I never saw how he even got up there! Or, or the guy who tried to eat those eggs with the shells on? These people are nuts!”
Riku turns and puts a finger to his lips. “Shhh. There might be people sleeping.”
Sora claps both hands over his mouth, his eyes widening. His composure dissolves a moment later as he breaks into a giggle. “Sorry,” he whispers loudly.
Riku rolls his eyes, but there's a smile on his lips as he turns the handle on their door. The room over the threshold is small but clean, cold from disuse and housing two narrow beds separated only by a small table. On the wall adjacent to the door is a short dresser with a full pitcher of water and an empty bowl atop it. A towel hangs over a hook on the wall next to it and a small, brass-framed mirror sits above the washstand. The room has only one window situated on the right wall over one of the beds, yet the best feature by far is the black stove that occupies the far corner and the container of wood sitting beside it.
“Not bad,” Riku says, stepping in enough to let Sora pass by him.
Sora makes a beeline for the stove and hears Riku shut the door behind them. “Mm I can't wait to sleep in a bed tonight,” Sora sighs, throwing a few logs inside the metal belly of the stove. “Fire,” Sora intones with a small push of magic, his right hand extended in front of the open door. A ball of flame ignites in his palm and he carefully lets it fall onto the stack of logs, lingering for a moment longer to let his chilled fingers bask in the warmth generated by the crackling wood.
When Sora turns around he sees that Riku has already taken off his newly acquired coat, as well as the sling his belt had transformed into. “How’s your arm?” Sora asks as he sets his satchel down at the foot of the bed. He takes back the square of cloth when Riku offers it to him and shoves it into the front pocket of his bag. He's too tired to figure out where it needs to go.
“Better, honestly,” Riku says, carefully flexing his hand to check its range of motion. “My ribs will probably need a few more days though.”
Sora puffs out his chest with a smug chuckle, the sound drawing Riku's gaze to him just like he hoped it would. “I think I can help with that now.”
With a swagger that's not entirely fake, Sora approaches Riku with his right hand extended. It's reassuring to see that Riku doesn’t flinch or move away as Sora pauses where the worst of the injury lies hidden beneath his shirt. “Cura,” Sora says with another push of magic, enveloping both of their bodies in a wash of green light and a swirl of petals that disappear before they reach the floor.
Riku unzips the closure in the middle of his shirt and pulls it open to survey the left side of his chest. The skin over his ribs is now perfectly uniform, unblemished and without any hint of injury or bruising. “Wow. That’s… it doesn’t hurt at all anymore.”
“Nothing like a good meal to replenish my magic,” Sora explains with a grin, stepping back. Riku continues inspecting his torso with his fingertips, pressing into the skin hard enough to leave pale marks behind. In the lamplight it’s clear how much Riku has grown over the past two years — he’s always been toned, just like Sora, but it’s the smaller, wiry body of a boy that lives predominantly in Sora’s memories. Riku has unmistakably gotten past that stage, with a wider chest and shoulders defined by muscle gained through months of fighting, and a pale stomach that is flat and toned, a hint of abdominal muscles rippling just below the skin.
Sora sways slightly on his feet and steps back, heat blooming under his clothing and across his back. Maybe he put too many logs on the fire. He turns away to throw himself belly-up on top of the bed nearest to the stove, stretching noisily with a groan and the sound of a few popping joints. “Oh man, s'good stuff,” he sighs. “I’m taking this bed.”
“Clearly,” Riku says. Sora looks over to see that he’s taken off his shirt completely and is contemplating the hole Xemnas’ weapon put there a few hours ago. After a moment Riku drops it to the floor, then sits down with his back to Sora to begin removing his shoes.
Sora knows distantly, hazy from both alcohol and exhaustion, that he's staring maybe a bit too much, but it's a little easier to ignore the feeling that he might be acting kind of creepy when Riku isn't facing him. It's just hard not to marvel at how many things about Riku have changed. The other boy’s silver hair looks almost as messy as Sora’s does on most days, fanning out far enough to reach the bottom of his shoulder blades; it's so much longer than Sora's ever seen him wear it before, of course he can't help looking. And the muscles under the smooth skin of his back, the way they flex as he bends and straightens, are way more noticeable than they’ve ever been. Somehow they've gotten more defined and cut over the past year, like he's been training harder than even when they were living on the islands. Sora lets his eyes wander over back and arms, caught between envy and admiration, up until he finds his eyes slipping down to the dip of Riku’s waist above the belt of his jeans.
Even that's going a bit too far for him. With a guilty start, he twists his face away to stare resolutely at wood beams over his bed.
Cheeks feeling warm again, Sora clears his throat. “Still can’t believe you literally arm wrestled that jacket off that guy’s back,” he remarks to the ceiling. “I bet he thought you’d be an easy mark with your arm in a sling.”
Riku snorts. “And that was his mistake.”
“I like it though,” Sora says, tucking his hands between his head and the pillow behind him. “I think it suits you.”
Riku turns to look at the coat in question and grabs it off the bed as he moves to stand. Sora tracks the movement out of the corner of his eye as the other boy holds it out before him in consideration. The jacket isn’t black, thankfully, but rather a warm brown leather, rubbed smooth through years of use. It’s a good length and comes down to just behind Riku’s knees, along with a couple of buckles and flaps across the chest and sides for storing items. Riku flips back one of the lapels and reveals a few pockets sewn into the lining on the inside, and Sora grins as Riku shoves his hand into each one, searching for forgotten treasures. He'd been thinking of suggesting the same thing.
“It’ll do,” Riku announces, giving the coat a light shake to settle the material back into place.
Sora closes his eyes as Riku continues to move around his side of the room, listening to the sound of his feet crossing the wood floor and water splashing in the basin. The mattress beneath him is not nearly as comfortable as he’d like it to be but there seems to be enough sheets under him that the lumps aren’t terribly noticeable. The linen smells clean and fresh, which is a nice change from gummi ship bunking and sleeping bags. A few minutes later the bed adjacent to him creaks quietly as Riku slides into it, followed by the flap of blankets settling into place. He can hear Riku shifting on the mattress a few times, searching for a comfortable position.
Sora exhales deeply. “Do you think they’re worried about us?” he asks softly. He thinks he knows the answer to this but it’s something he’s been wondering about in the back of his mind since they got to this world.
“Maybe,” Riku answers at the tail end of a brief yawn. “They don’t know we defeated Xemnas.”
“You’re right,” Sora says, frowning in thought. His eyes are still shut and he can hear Riku punching and flipping his pillow a few times. It's an unsurprisingly familiar sound, considering the number of sleepovers they've shared during their lives. It makes Sora smile to himself all the same.
“But I think they probably do know. All of our hearts are connected. I know Mickey would know if something happened to me. Wouldn’t Kairi know if something happened to you?”
“I guess…” Sora concedes, again a little miffed Riku keeps singling out Kairi like that. “But I know what you mean. Donald and Goofy would know, I’m pretty sure of it. And they’re all together so I know they’re safe, wherever they ended up.”
“Right, exactly. So I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“I wasn’t really—,” Sora tries to explain, but a yawn halts him mid-sentence.
“Why don’t you get ready for bed?” Riku suggests, his tone somewhere between tired and amused.
He’s right, but it’s hard not to indulge in talking to Riku now that he has him back. So many conversations they have to make up for, so many hours and days spent apart to recapture. In all his travels and among everyone that he’s met he’s never found a substitute for Riku or met someone who he could talk to as easily, as if time and space had really been nothing but a blink during their separation. Sora stretches noisily, arms over his head and toes pointing to the wall, enjoying the way this seems to sink his body deeper into the bed covers.
Trying to open his eyes again feels like too much effort at this point, but there’s still something he’s been meaning to say to Riku for the past few hours. “Thanks for believing in me,” Sora says quietly, smothering a quick yawn. “We wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t told me about the door of light.”
There’s a stretch of silence, long enough that Sora wonders if Riku fell asleep and missed his gratitude entirely, but a soft huff of breath finally comes from the other boy’s bed. “You’re welcome, Sora. Now shut up and let me sleep.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sora yields with a grin. Eyes open now, he rolls off the mattress and quickly sheds his clothing, leaving the boots, pants, coat, and vest in a pile on the floor. He uses the water left in the pitcher to splash his face, shivering a little from the cold drops that slip down his neck and chest. They’re completely missing basic necessities like combs and toothbrushes, so Sora compromises by gargling a bit of water and hopes that’ll do until they can buy more supplies. It’s too cold to bother taking off his shirt so he jumps back into the bed with only a pair of bright red boxers as an additional barrier to the cool air. He pulls the provided quilt over him as he curls into a tight, sleepy ball, letting loose another yawn that manages to squeeze a tear out of his eye.
“Lights?” Riku asks, sounding almost asleep himself.
Sora grumbles inside his slowly warming cocoon, but doesn’t really want to go to sleep with the lamp still burning either. “Blizzard,” he grunts, snapping in the direction of the lantern mounted on the bedroom wall. The room goes dark, save for the dim orange glow coming from the direction of the stove.
“I’m glad you found me, Sora,” Riku says softly a few minutes later, but Sora can’t be sure he isn’t just imagining it. He’s already asleep.