odd as it may sound, lea had never really considered life beyond the war; had been so focused on training, on fulfilling his promise, on trying to atone the future had merely seemed an ephemeral concept that would never come, or bring only disaster that now that it was here he simply——— had no idea what to do with himself. fewer heartless were abound now with the worlds restored, any clean up work taken care of easily enough between the seven of them. he still trained with merlin, focusing on honing his magic and skills, but there no longer existed that sense of urgency. his friends had returned, and he’d never felt happier for it, but the issues left unsaid between them, all the past shit they still had to deal with hadn’t somehow magically disappeared with their reunion, no matter how much lea would wish it; and though he enjoyed spending time with them, finally getting to apologise, getting to share ice cream again without the need for lies or pretense, they’d all changed. it felt different. not better or worse, but different.
lea didn’t quite know how to deal with that. was afraid to, even. that uncertainty, the loss of goal to cling on to, no purpose to throw himself at, all that was left was the jagged maelstrom of his own thoughts; being confronted with the very past he’d tried to turn away from so harshly and definitely. so, in the end, he did what he did best: he avoided it. told himself roxas and xion would be fine with their new friends as he hopped worlds to do errands for merlin, told himself he just needed a breather, some space, some time to get his ducks in a row. told himself he needed to find isa, fulfill that last bit of his promise; and though none of that was strictly speaking untrue… deep down he knew they were – at least partially – excuses. one would’ve thought he’d learned by now;
but shit, what was another layer of guilt to the myriad of layers he already donned across his shoulders like a yoke, right? not like he completely cut contact. the gummi phone took care of that, at least.
and so here he was, excuses in tow, with a solid lead of where he might find his … well, whatever they were now: feet planted into the sand of yet another beach that was somehow reminiscent of destiny islands but not quite ( something was pulling at his gut, an uncomfortable sensation he couldn’t place just yet, couldn’t parse past the nervous anticipation, tentative hope and expected disappointment of yet another dead end ), green eyes scanning the horizon only to land on …
for a brief, wild moment his heart jumped at that flash of black, feet carrying him swiftly ( too swiftly, adding a stumble here and there ) across the sand. but then he noted the blond hair instead of blue, the slim figure and though there was that familiar disappointment, it flew on the cusp of an almost pleasant surprise. relief too; though he’d never expected his messages to be answered, it was good to know demyx was still alive.
his shadow pools over an achingly familiar sight, one that brings a rueful grin to lea’s lips. “ well, well. few years later and i’m still findin’ ya lazin’ about. ‘m surprised you don’t have your sitar out while you’re at it. ” a beat, “ almost figured you’d faded too——– should a’ known better somehow. ”
he’d be having to cut it soon. that mess of windswept, tangled blond fallen across a face scrunched for the feel of it. caught between fingers that toyed with the length before a puff of a breath sent it elsewhere. like him. elsewhere. watching twilight sort itself out. tracing the distant edges of a misshapen figure in clouds that passed slower than usual above the outstretched arm admiring them. more useful a distraction than thoughts, mangled and trying to realign. pick out which were his and which were infectious memories that had no place else to go, now. what, he’d figured, would have carried more weight to know where they’d come from. why they lingered. why they’d chosen the last few months to surface.
another flock of gulls and it might’ve hurt if he’d dug them any deeper. the heels of his palms pressing heavy over restless eyes. chatter was still better than frustrating silence. where a breaking tide offered support and lungs filled off of briny air.
they’d all seemed so much better off...
refilling old shoes. righting old wrongs. working together like a unit that’d only gained traction as nobodies. which made his failure to want to integrate that much more blatant. pushing back against an ebb and flow that’d have washed him out and brought back someone who’d only make it worse. right ? those disjointed images of shrinking backs — funny how the only thing he’d felt, then, was fear. baseless, incorporeal, fear. and with no one to ask, demyx dubbed it fair to wonder if they’d all felt it too, right beforehand. shrinking up and in.. the tightness of a sunburn, skin so taut. making it hard to move in it. making them hard to look at. warping ax— .. lea’s laughter into a mocking, awful thing.
not for the first time, that pocketed phone was caught under straining fingers. squeezed with a want to chuck it into the sea. send them all away and find a world unfamiliar. lose sight of an end goal that’d turned fuzzy and relearn how to be without.. being. relearn how to——
blotted sun forced him to squint upward against an intrusive shadow, the glare of light around it veiling an identity that, for their opened mouth, didn’t require confirmation. would’ve earned the indignant roll to look away without trying. sent the bend of a cloaked arm to droop lazily over what might’ve settled sour without it. destiny’s sense of humor had been a rotten one for a long time, but, only now, did the stink catch up to it. drone out of him in a groan that lost momentum between them and settled, eventually, into something altogether flat.
“ what’re you doing here ? ” invasive and informal, lacking a camaraderie that might’ve existed for someone else. a man with a face only slightly harsher. sharper teeth and an ugly callousness he’d learned to work around with better grace than what went into the efforts took to rise. follow unfamiliar boots to unfamiliar pants... an unfamiliar shirt... a somebody that’d earned the uneasiness in his guts, arms lazily draped over knees slid upright. “ i just— ”
a few years—— it made sense, at least.
a few years explained the state of him and what, he’d been warned, once, were old memories of another prepared to eat at what he’d forged himself. stoke negative emotions back to life and situated lea under a look forced stern from the current. “ look, dude, if you’re looking for someone, i don’t know where anyone else is. ” across the worlds, for better or worse, of course he was. someone who, decidedly, was not him. “ they’re all, ” someone else— “ somewhere else, now. ...you’re blockin’ the view. ”