Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ Introspection ❯ Introspection ( One-Shot )

The sky was ablaze.

‘How long . . . has it been . . .?’

Aqua eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at the sinking sun on the far horizon, he bit his lip as he slowly let his gaze roam over the frothing surge of the unhindered water: the shivers of dazzling brilliance that twinkled and faded, as fleeting as a breath—as a heartbeat—and yet . . .

‘How small it is, but . . .’

Funny, wasn’t it?  Once upon a time . . . Wasn’t that how all stories started . . .?

‘Once upon a time . . .’

Back then, he’d always known that one day, he would leave this place and never look back, that he would fly away like a bird, find what lay beyond, with his best friends by his side.  He’d be the hero; he’d protect them.  That was how it was going to be, he’d thought.  In those days when he’d dreamt of nothing more than those things that he hadn’t yet seen, he’d truly believed . . .

Somehow, along the way, the idea of going home had lost the abhorrent edge, the bitter twang, in the course of his thoughts, and slowly, before he’d ever realized it, he’d come to long for it—for this.

Even if it was a transient instant, the flash of a moment, and still, the faraway sound of the birds that were little more than darkened specks against the sky was somehow melancholy.  Even the last time he’d been here, after they’d defeated Xemnas, felt like so very long ago now, and it wasn’t.  It really wasn’t . . . but . . . ‘Just passing through . . .’ he thought as a rather wry smile just barely touched his lips.

"We are out of time.  Neither the union of light nor darkness has been achieved, and we must all return whence we came, but . . . the gathering of the seven and thirteen is nigh.  Let us finish this at the fated place, once your lights and my darknesses have joined together!"

As those words, that perfidious voice, faded within the confines of his mind, he gritted his teeth, expression shifting into a wretched grimace, even as his hands tightened into fists at his sides.  Sora was the prize that Xehanort was after, and his ultimate goal of reforging the ÷-blade . . .

‘Sora . . .’

“. . . Riku . . .?  Riku!”

Turning at the sound of the bright voice, Riku blinked, his smile widening by degrees as the flash of reddish-brown hair—closer to red than to brown in the burning light of the falling twilight—rushed toward him, her crystalline laughter, tinkling in the air in her wake.  She threw her arms around him, hugging him tight for a long moment before letting them drop again, and she stepped back, her dark blue eyes, shifting from side to side, as though she were looking for someone.

And she most certainly was.

“Where’s Sora?” she finally asked when she realized that Riku was, in fact, alone.

“Well, uh . . .” he drawled.

Kairi laughed.  “Oh, what did Master Yen Sid want to see you and Sora about?” she asked, before he could answer her.  “Or was it some kind of secret?”

He heard the teasing in her tone, and he rolled his eyes.  “We were tested,” he told her.  “The Mark of Mastery.”

She let out a sharp breath, eyes rounding wide as a definite sparkle lit her gaze.  “Oh?  Wow, and you both passed!  That’s pretty impressive, Riku!”

He grimaced inwardly.  “I . . . I passed.  Sora . . . He, uh, didn’t . . .”

Kairi blinked, shook her head.  “He didn’t?”

“It’s a long story,” Riku muttered.

"I believe we need a new keyblade master—one with a new kind of power.  Sora and Riku, you both deserve the honor.  However, one of you braved the realm of sleep again to unlock the final keyhole and save a friend.  Riku, I name you our new true Keyblade Master."

“Where is Sora?” she asked once more, breaking through the memory of Yen Sid’s words.

“I . . .” Trailing off for a moment, Riku frowned, shook his head, his eyes dropping away from hers, as though he were ashamed of his answer.  “I don’t know, exactly.  He . . . He said that he had something he had to do.”

Kairi’s pretty face registered her confusion as her eyebrows drew together slightly.  “What do you mean?”

He let out a deep breath.  “I was sent to bring you back.  Master Yen Sid wants to see you,” he said, hating the idea that he was hedging her question, knowing that he honestly had no concrete answer to give her, in the first place.

It was counter-intuitive, wasn’t it?  How long had he known Sora?  How long had he been trying to protect his friend—his best friend . . .? But right now . . .

“Master Yen Sid . . .?” Kairi echoed, giving a little shake of her head.  “But, why?”

Riku reached up, dragged his hand through his silvery hair thoughtfully as he slowly let out a deep breath.  “I don’t really know,” he admitted.  “I mean, he didn’t say.”

She still looked completely baffled, but she gave a curt nod.  “Okay.”

He started to stretch out his arm, ready to call forth his keyblade, but he paused, glanced over at Kairi once more.  “Do you need to go tell your parents?”

Biting her lip, she considered his question.  “I guess . . . I guess I should,” she said.  “What about you?  Shouldn’t you at least go see your mom and dad?”

For some reason, that caught him off-guard.  “Mom and Dad, huh?” he echoed.  “Y-Yeah . . .” Slowly, he broke into a small smile.  “Yeah . . .”

“Hey, Mom . . .”

Standing in the doorway, managing a wan smile as he gazed across the room at the woman who looked up from the bread she was kneading on the counter in the bright and airy kitchen that he remembered so well: the ticks in marker, gauging his growth over the years that still adorned the scrubbed surface of the door frame, the racks on the counter by the windowsill where his mother would set pies to cool after baking, the same crisp, starched white cotton curtains that hung in the windows . . . He’d noticed it the last time he was here, didn’t he?  Strange, wasn’t it, how the entire place, as welcoming and familiar as it was, seemed somehow smaller now . . .

Brushing her silvery hair out of her aqua eyes with the back of her hand, she laughed softly, unmindful of the flour that coated her hands, as she hurried over to hug him.  “You look so grown up—so much more like your father,” she told him, the smile, trembling on her lips as she reached up to finger a lock of his hair.  “You cut your hair . . .”

He grunted, unable to staunch the slight pinking of his cheeks as he quickly shook his head.  “Come on, Mom . . . It hasn’t been that long . . .”

“Riku?  You okay?”

Blinking away the lingering memory, Riku glanced at Mickey and slowly shook his head.  “What?  Oh, I’m fine,” he replied, forcing a half-smile for the mouse’s benefit.

To his credit, the timeless king didn’t look like he was buying into it, but he also chose to let it go, too, and he sighed instead.  “If you want, we can wait a little while—see if Sora comes back sooner rather than later.”

“Sora?”

“You wanna talk to him, don’t you?” Mickey said a little too casually.  “At least, that’s what I think . . .”

Riku made a face.  He never had been good at keeping things from Mickey.  There was something almost symbiotic about the two of them, and it had been like that from the first time they’d met.  Sometimes, it was nice, not having to explain every little thing to him.  Other times, like now?  Riku grimaced.  “He was really happy for me,” he said, giving up the pretense of acting like he didn’t understand full-well what Mickey hadn’t said.  “I mean, genuinely happy for me . . .”

Mickey looked entirely puzzled.  “Well, gee, Riku.  Why wouldn’t he be?”

His grimace shifted into a thoughtful scowl.  “If . . . If I were him . . .”

“. . . You’d have been happy for him, too,” Mickey replied gently, albeit firmly.

Riku didn’t respond to that.  To be brutally honest, he . . . He really wasn’t entirely sure that he would have been happy for Sora, had it come down to it.  Well, that wasn’t it, exactly.  Of course, he would have been.  He’d have been just as happy for Sora as Sora was for him.  But he also knew—knew—deep down . . .

Letting out a deep breath, frowning down at the fingerless gloves that covered his hands—hands that were currently balled into tight fists at his sides—he bit his lip.

“Do you have any idea where Sora went?” Mickey went on, his voice entirely conversational and giving nothing away as to his real thoughts at the moment.

He shrugged.  “Knowing Sora?  He could be just about anywhere,” Riku remarked, lifting his face, narrowing his gaze, as he stared off into the skies of the falling dusk.

“Welp, Sora tends to go wherever his heart takes him,” Mickey mused thoughtfully.  “Maybe he had unfinished business somewhere . . .”

He started to open his mouth, to wonder aloud, just what kind of business Mickey meant, but he snapped it closed when the kernel of an idea started to form in his mind.  After all, didn’t he know Sora better than just about anybody?  They’d been best friends from a time before Riku could even remember.  Anywhere he was, Sora was never far behind . . . Mickey was absolutely right.  That was how Sora lived his life—how he’d always been and, hopefully, how he always would be.  It was as simple as that, and, in that moment, Riku knew.

“Mickey, uh . . . Will you wait for me?”

The king stared at him for a long second, and then, he nodded solemnly.  “Do what you gotta do, Riku,” he said.

For the first time since the end of the Mark of Mastery exam, Riku smiled for real as he stretched out his arm, as he willed his keyblade to materialize.

Stepping out of the portal onto the familiar cobblestone street, Riku looked around, eyebrows drawing together in a thoughtful frown as he took in the softly glowing street lights, the comfortable glow of Traverse Town.  There was something innately comforting about the quaint little village, even as a thousand—a million—memories flashed through his mind in an instant.  He’d found Sora here after Destiny Island had been thrown into darkness, and he’d been so shocked, so surprised, and yes, he could admit it now, even jealous, that his friend had managed to befriend Donald and Goofy.  He’d thought at that time that it meant Sora hadn’t cared, what had happened to him, to Kairi, and the anger that had frothed in him had led him dangerously deep into the darkness . . .

It wasn’t true.  It never had been true.  No matter what Maleficent had said to him, deep down, a part of him had always known because he knew Sora, maybe better than he knew himself, and it was Sora who had eventually led him back toward the light once more.

Wandering through the Third District, he realized in an absent sort of way that he was smiling just a little.  He had yet to find Sora, of course, and yet, he could sense his presence.  Stopping in the middle of the square where he’d first found Sora after the loss of their home island, he slowly looked around, lifted his gaze upward, taking in the twinkling of the myriad of stars so high above.

Sora had forgiven him in customary fashion, but when had he ever really carried a grudge?  It was Riku’s considered opinion that Sora didn’t know how to do such a thing, and that was one of the things that Riku had always envied about his best friend.  Why was it so easy for Sora to trust—to believe—and to forgive?

Letting out a deep breath, he shook himself as he strode forward.  Pushing open the door that led to the First District, he stopped short at the sight that greeted him: Sora, surrounded by a host of Dream Eaters.  It brought a smile to his face as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the closed gate door.

There always had been something inherently innocent about Sora.  He’d always worn his heart on his sleeve, and that was something else that Riku had always envied about him.  It allowed Sora to touch people—a clarity in his eyes that was honest and true—an earnestness that inspired the trust and faith in everyone who met him.  When Riku thought back to the children they used to be, he realized, too, that it was that quality in Sora that had made Riku want to be his friend, even way back then.  The thing he didn’t understand—maybe never would really comprehend—was why Sora had decided that Riku was worthy of being his best friend, too . . .

As though he sensed Riku’s proximity, Sora glanced up, and the smile that was already on his face widened dramatically.

“Riku!” he hollered as he darted over to stand before him.  Then he laughed as he slowly leaned from side to side, smile widening as he gave a nod of approval, as he took in the visage of Riku’s new look.  “Wow, check you out!  Nice new clothes!”

Glancing down at the outfit that the three good fairies had given him, he shrugged.  “They thought these would be easier to move around in than those black robes,” he said.  “They should also protect me in the Realm of Darkness.”

“The Realm of Darkness?” Sora echoed, his amusement, dying away as a hint of concern crept into his expression.  “Is Master Yen Sid sending you there?”

Riku shrugged since it wasn’t really why he’d sought Sora out.  “Yeah, but it’s a long story.”

Sora nodded thoughtfully, planting his hands on his hips as he rather lazily regarded Riku, his dark blue eyes, so startlingly direct.  “Well, if you’re being sent there, then what are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Riku replied.  “I, uh . . . I wanted to talk to you.”

Momentarily sidetracked when Meow-Wow rubbed up against his leg, Sora leaned down to scratch the Dream Eater’s head.  “Oh, yeah?  Why?”

Riku sighed, winced inwardly.  “It’s just . . . I mean, about the Mark of Mastery exam . . .”

Frowning thoughtfully when he finally looked back at Riku once more, Sora shook his head.  “I . . . I can’t believe I fell for Xehanort’s traps,” he admitted, his gaze dropping away as though he were ashamed of what had happened.  “If you and Mickey and Axel—oops, Lea—weren’t there—”

He couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t stand there and listen to Sora thank him.  He didn’t know why, but it . . . it bothered him far more than it probably should have.  “Sora, I’m sorry,” Riku blurted, cutting Sora off before he could finish his sentence.

Sora blinked.  “Sorry?” he echoed, shaking his head, genuinely perplexed by the unexpected apology.  “What for?”

Pushing himself away from the door with his shoulder, Riku slowly started walking as Sora fell in beside him.  “It . . . It meant a lot to you, too—the exam—and you should have passed . . .”

Sora sighed, more of an exhalation than anything else.  “No,” he said, slowly, thoughtfully, as though he were considering the entire situation.  “Master Yen Sid was right.  I failed.  If I hadn’t been so gullible . . .”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way you see things—the way you look for the best in everything and everyone,” Riku insisted, irritation rising when Sora berated himself.  It bothered him, didn’t it?  That Sora would doubt the very things that Riku valued in him . . . “That’s one of your strengths, you know.”

The rueful smile on Sora’s face was difficult to see.  “Not this time, it wasn’t,” he said, but it sounded more philosophical than sullen.  Then, in true Sora-fashion, he laughed.  “It’s all right, though.  I’ll take the test again, and next time, I’ll pass with flying colors!”

Riku smiled despite himself.  There was just something about Sora’s determination, about his optimism . . . “You . . . You were genuinely happy for me, weren’t you?  It didn’t even occur to you to be jealous or anything,” he went on.  “I want to think that I’d be like that, too, if you had passed and I hadn’t, and I would have been, but I . . . I don’t know that I wouldn’t have felt just a little jealous . . .”

His grin vanished in an instant, and he shook his head once.  “But you’re my best friend, Riku.  Of course, I . . . Did you . . .?  Did you think I wouldn’t be happy for you?”

Gritting his teeth at Sora’s attempt to hide the hurt that lingered just below the surface, Riku grimaced.  “No, I didn’t think that,” he said.  “It’s just . . . I felt bad, you know?  For you.”

Sora uttered a half-hearted laugh.  “Don’t feel bad for me.  Just because I didn’t pass this time doesn’t mean I won’t the next time, right?  And then, you can be happy for me!”

He stopped, stared at Sora for a long moment, even as a slow smile started to surface on his face.  That was Sora, wasn’t it?  Ever the optimist, ever the best friend that anyone could ever ask for.  “You’ll do it,” he predicted, slinging an arm around Sora’s neck and pulling his head against his chest as he rubbed his knuckles of his free hand against Sora’s scalp.  “Make sure I’m there when you’re declared a master.”

“Hey!  Get off!” Sora grumped, shoving against Riku to regain his freedom.  His laughter, however, undermined the haughty indignation that just didn’t ring true.  Then he sighed.  “Guess I should get back, too, huh?  This whole thing with Organization XIII . . .”

Riku nodded.  “Yeah . . .” Letting all traces of humor die away, he couldn’t find the bravado to smile.  “Be careful.  If Xehanort still wants to make you the thirteenth . . .”

“I’ll be fine,” Sora assured him.  “I won’t fall for his tricks again.”

He heard the determination in Sora’s tone.  It didn’t entirely quell the sense of foreboding that he just couldn’t shake.  Even so, he knew better than anyone that Sora possessed a rare strength of heart that made him far more formidable than just about anyone else alive.  “You’re stronger than you think, Sora.  Just do what you always do and listen to your heart.”  Pausing after he’d opened the portal that would take him back to Mickey, Riku started to step forward, but stopped.  “Oh, Kairi’s gone to Radiant Garden to train with Merlin.  Just thought you’d want to know.”

“Is that right?  Thanks for letting me know . . .”

Riku nodded and stepped forward once more, only to stop when Sora spoke again.

“Hey, Riku?  Be careful.”

Riku chuckled, glancing back over his shoulder to grin at Sora.  “Will do.  Later!”

That said, he stepped into the portal, ready to go meet Mickey—ready to set out on a whole new mission—one that they could not afford to fail.