ALONE, I'M WORTHLESS.

sora of kingdom hearts.

[phpoetry]

You told me I was the brightest person you’ve ever met in your life. That might be true, but I don’t shine without you.

P.H. (via phpoetry)

[spectrealenko]

lovestruck on main

[spectrealenko]

absolutely fucking enamored on main

[kidblader]

rikudevium‌   /   dummy. >:(

SORA  BELIEVES  IN  HIM,   IT’S  JUST   ————   just  that  nobody  believes  in  the  darkness   (  not  without  good  reason  ),   nobody  believes  that  any  good  could  ever  come  of  it.   but riku thinks it has the  potential  to do good,  if wielded by someone with the will to possess it.   so many have tried to harness the power of darkness by force,  and those are the people that have corrupted it  —  but riku was  born  with it,  riku never  asked  for it.

riku has two of the brightest lights he’s ever seen in his own life,  and he knows he couldn’t possibly be half as strong without them.   and he knows that sora is the other half of his own heart,  and he absolutely  can’t  strong without him.   they make his own heart brighter,  a warm ray of sunlight that clears away the darkness in all dreams,  brings him back to reality when he changes his own form.

the nightmares exhaust him,  feed darksider in ways no ordinary person could handle.   every night he consumes loneliness and despair and agony,  tears and blood and sweat,  bright flames and the chilling cold.   riku has spent too much of his own life understanding sadness and loneliness  ——  but he knows now how to parse through those feelings,  separate them from himself.   because he has kairi and he has sora and they make each other stronger and he can’t possibly ever,  truly,  be alone.

but riku had grown too used to consuming sora’s nightmares,  replacing them with good dreams and watching them unfold,  watching dream - sora realize his love for dream - riku in a way that sora still cannot seem to grasp.   weeks have passed since the last time riku has been able to consume one of sora’s nightmares.   sora figured out how to block him out entirely and it’s both frustrating and  admirable  how sora can figure things out when he puts his mind to it,  how  stubbornly  he’ll maintain his resolve.

he’s tried to talk him down,  gently,  more than once  ——  with no success.   and all the while,  he feels sora’s anger,  he feels sadness and fear and he feels darksider gravitating toward him more and more,  feeding  off of it,  lending sora its power,  because without sora’s nightmares it cannot sustain itself,  needs  sora’s heart just as much as it needs riku himself.

normal nightmares are like caffeine.   darksider needs sora’s nightmares like they’re an entire meal,  like they’re water and air and the most necessary components of survival.   (  or  maybe  they’re  a  drug,   darksider whispers to him in the depths of his mind,   and  you’re  in  withdrawal.  )   riku has tried  desperately  to explain it to him  —  but he doesn’t know how much more clearly he can express the connection between their hearts,  the fact that their bond is so much more powerful than their connection with absolutely anybody else,  even with kairi.

i  don’t  care  what  you  say  !   nobody  was  made  for  darkness  !   it’s  changing  you,   making  you  sad  all  the  time  !

if it’s done anything,  it’s just made him worse at  hiding  it.   or,  maybe that’s sora’s doing,  melting the cold exterior he worked so hard to craft around him,  filled with contrived arrogance and detachment.   but riku gets the feeling that if he tries to explain that to sora,  the thought of riku having always been sad will only upset him more.

and as it stands now,  riku can’t bear to see him any more upset  —  as sora wraps his arms around his waist,  settles his head upon riku’s chest  ;   almost as if his body were begging for riku to  help  him,  even if sora and his brain would never acknowledge it,  own up to his  exhaustion.   and riku wants to collapse against sora in turn,  overwhelmed by other nightmares and lacking the strength to handle them.

if he can’t get through to sora,  they will surely undo each other.

“  c’mon,  sora  —  not  all  darkness has to be  bad.   even if it  is  easy for it to  become  bad.  ”

he’s not about to say that  his  darkness,  that darksider is wholly good  ——  but riku has to believe that he won’t succumb to it one day,  that he  can  do good with the gift he’s been given  ——  that it  is  a gift,  and not a  curse.   how can he live with himself if he can’t  ?

i  don’t  want  you  to  be  sad  anymore,   so  i’m  not  gonna  let  you  eat  my  dreams  !   e - even  if  it  means  that   …   i  have  to  be  sad,   and  even  if  kairi  says  that  my  dreams  don’t  make  you  sad.   i  think  she’s  wrong.

were riku not currently holding sora in his arms,  he’d most assuredly be retiring to his room for the next year.   if he can’t get through to sora in this moment,  perhaps he really will.

“  kairi’s  right,  silly.   your dreams work  differently  than everyone else’s.   the link between our hearts is  stronger  than any other connection we have.  ”   he’s careful as he lifts sora’s head off his chest,  settles one hand on his shoulder and the other cupping his chin.   riku just wishes sora will understand what this  means.

“  taking your nightmares,  turning them into  good  dreams  ——  that’s what makes me  strongest.   there’s no way i can be sad when you’re dreaming peacefully.   but i need you to  trust  me,  sora.  ”   the hand upon sora’s shoulder grips just a bit more firmly,  involuntarily,  pleading.

“  will you  ?  ”

c’mon,   sora   —   not  all  darkness  has  to  be  bad.

He  wonders  if  he  could  ever  believe  that   —   supposes  that,   if  he  didn’t,   then  he  wouldn’t  love  Riku  as  much  as  he  does. 

“Love”?   Where  did  that  word  come  from? I  dunno!   I  just   ...   kinda  thought  it. Well,   I  do  love  Riku,   right?   He’s  my  friend. —   then,   why  does  it  feel  so  weird  to  say? Should  I  tell  him? What  if  he  thinks  it’s  weird?

Kairi’s  right,   silly.   Your  dreams  work  differently  than  everyone  else’s.   The  link  between  our  hearts  is  stronger  than  any  other  connection  we  have.

Is  love  the  “link”  that  Riku  and  Kairi  are  always  talking  about?   (   Riku’s  never  said  “love”,   either   —   but,   maybe  he’s  scared,   too.   Sora  can’t  imagine  why.   Riku’s  never  been  afraid  of  anything.   )

Sora’s  so  wrapped  up  in  trying  to  parse  out  what  it  all  means  that  Riku’s  hand  gently  cupping  his  chin  feels  like  being  struck  by  lightning!   feels  like  the  start  of  every  romantic  movie  that  he’s  ever  seen,   and  all  of  his  wildest  dreams!   (   As  a  matter  of  fact,   Sora  is  so  sure  that  he’s  dreamt  this  before  that  he  knows  exactly  what’s  going  to  happen:   Riku  cups  his  chin,   check,   traces  his  mouth  with  his  thumb,   tells  Sora  that  he’s  beautiful  and  Sora’s  heart  does  somersaults  beneath  his  breast  as  he  tells  Riku  that  he’s  beautiful,   too,   and  Riku  laughs  into  his  mouth  as  he  kisses  him,   soft  and  sweet  and  forever!   )

Taking  your  nightmares,   turning  them  into  good  dreams   —   that’s  what  makes  me  strongest.   There’s  no  way  I  can  be  sad  when  you’re  dreaming  peacefully. 

Okay,   so,   maybe  it  isn’t  “you’re  beautiful”   ———   and,   maybe  it  takes  Sora  completely  by  surprise!   His  face  flushes  red,   and  he  glances  briefly  away  from  Riku,   attempts  to  regain  a  composure  that  he  never  really  had  to  begin  with.   (   At  least  the  shadows  are  gone,   and  his  eyes  have  returned  to  an  overcast  blue.   Riku  always  seems  to  have  that  effect  on  him.   Maybe  that’s  the  whole  point.   )

❝   D’you  really  believe  in  all  that  stuff  like  Kairi?   “Soulmates”?   ❞

The  funny  thing  about  all  three  of  them  is  that  all  of  their  abilities  connect  them  in  some  way  to  everyone  in  the  world:   Kairi  can  feel  everyone’s  emotions,   Riku  consumes  everyone’s  nightmares,   and  Sora  can  see  everyone’s  future.   (   Sora  understands  that  everyone  is  connected;   what  he  doesn’t  understand  is  how  two  people  can  be  connected  beyond  even  that.   What  do  you  do  with  so  much  closeness?   Do  you  dream  about  kissing?   Do  you  dream  about  being  called  beautiful?   This  never  seems  so  hard  for  people  in  movies,   and  he  always  thought  that  it  was  just  because  movies  are  fake   —   but,   maybe  he’s  just  thinking  too  much.   Maybe  he  should  just  listen  to  his  heart,   and  his  heart  wants  to  kiss  Riku!   )

I  need  you  to  trust  me,   Sora.   Will  you?

❝   ———   yeah.   ‘course  I  trust  you,   Riku!   ❞

Again,   Sora  scrubs  at  his  eyes,   rubs  away  the  last  of  the  wetness  and  tries  to  massage  away  the  ache.   (   He’s  so  tired!   has  to  admit  that  he’s  looking  forward  to  cuddling  with  Riku  again,   and  getting  a  good  night’s  sleep.   )   His  mouth  parts  in  a  wide  yawn,   and  he  slumps  forward  playfully,   so  that  Riku’s  hands  beneath  his  chin  and  atop  his  shoulder  are   (   mostly   )   the  only  things  keeping  him  upright.

❝   H---Hey,   Riku?   Before  you  “eat  my  dreams”  again  and  I  fall  asleep,   can  I,   uh   ———   can  I  kiss  you?   ❞

[kidblader]

❝   i  do  believe  in  you,   Riku!   It’s  just—   ❞

It’s  just  that  Riku  is  holding  his  hands,   just  as  he  always  does  in  his  dreams,   and  Sora  doesn’t  remember  how  to  breathe   /   how  to  think   /   who  he  is  without  Riku.   (   He  doesn’t  understand  why  he  can’t  stomach  a  world  devoid  of  anyone,   tries  so  hard  to  save  everyone!   but,   a  world  without  Riku  is  the  only  one  that  haunts  him  behind  his  eyes  at  night.   )

It’s  just  that  he  feels  so  sorry  for  Riku,   because  he  knows  that  Riku  was  made  for  this,   and  he  thinks  that  no  one  should  ever  have  been  “made”  for  Darkness.   (   He  misses  the  happy  Riku  from  their  childhood,   the  Riku  that  smiled  and  laughed  with  him,   the  Riku  that  so  easily  beat  him  in  footraces  and  tormented  him  with  scary  stories  just  so  he  could  have  an  excuse  to  comfort  him  afterward   ———   or,   at  least  that’s  what  Kairi  says.   )

You  never  noticed? Not  really.   I  thought  he  was  just  being  nice. I  think  there’s  more  to  it  than  that. Whatever  you  say,   Kairi.   Why’re  you  so  hung  up  on  me  an’  Riku,   anyway? I---I  dunno.   I  just   ...   think  you  guys  have  a  special  connection.   It’s  funny  that  you  don’t  see  it. ‘course  we  have  a  special  connection!   He’s  my  best  friend!   You’re  my  best  friend,   too,   Kairi!   Is   —   Is  everything  okay? Yeah,   of  course!   I’m  just   ...   worried  about  Riku.   I  think  the  Darkness  is  getting  to  him. Yeah,   me  too.   That’s  why  I  stopped  letting  him  “eat  my  dreams”. You  what?! H---Hey!   Why  are  you  yelling  at  me?!   It  helps  him,   doesn’t  it? No!   Your  dreams  are  different,   Sora!   They  help  him! That  doesn’t  make  any  sense!   Did  Riku  put  you  up  to  this?   He  was  really  mad  when  he  found  out  I  figured  out  how  to  block  him.   Well,   I  don’t  care  what  you  or  Riku  have  to  say  about  it!   I’m  not  gonna  make  him  feel  worse!

He  stormed  away  from  that  conversation  a  couple  of  weeks  ago,   and  his  nightmares  have  been  worse  and  worse,   and  he’s  been  angrier  and  angrier  with  no  end  in  sight!   (   Is  this  how  everyone  would  feel  without  Riku?   Is  this  how  Riku  feels  right  now,   and  always,   because  of  what  he  does?   Sora  doesn’t  know  which  one  is  worse,   but  he  does  know  that  he’s  being  followed  by  shadows,   and  his  eyes  are  slowly  changing  color,   and  he  wants  to  hurt  anyone  or  anything  that  would  hurt  Riku  and  the  shadows  tell  him  that  they  can  help  him  do  that!   that  they  can  make  him  stronger!   )

and,   why  should  that  be  a  bad  thing? He  would  do  anything  to  protect  Riku,   to  protect  everyone   —   even  hurt.

You’ve  already  helped  so  many  people.   The  world  doesn’t  rest  on  just  your  shoulders.   You’ve  done  more  than  enough,   Sora.   It’s  my  turn,   now.

❝   No,   it  isn’t!   ❞

He  squeezes  Riku’s  hands,   whines  frustration,   presses  himself  into  Riku’s  chest  without  thinking  about  it  because  beneath  the  shadows  that  wisp  around  his  arms,   his  chest,   his  yellow  eyes,   he’s  still  just  a  boy  afraid  of  ghost  stories   /   a  boy  who  still  trusts  Riku  more  than  anyone  else  and  still  depends  on  him  to  keep  him  safe.

❝   It  isn’t  just  on  your  shoulders,   either,   Riku!   Y---You  can’t  just   —   keep  eating  people’s  dreams  and  thinking  that  nothing  bad’s  gonna  happen!   I---I  don’t  care  what  you  say!   Nobody  was  “made”  for  Darkness!   It’s  changing  you,   making  you  sad  all  the  time!   I---I  don’t  want—   ❞

He  sniffs,   releases  one  of  Riku’s  hands  to  make  a  fist  to  scrub  stubborn  tears  from  his  eyes,   angles  his  head  to  pillow  it  atop  Riku’s  chest  and  circles  his  arm  around  Riku’s  waist   (   —   because,   subconsciously,   he’s  exhausted!   just  wants  to  sleep  in  Riku’s  arms  for  the  rest  of  his  life!   can’t  understand  why  that  means  anything  different,   or  that  it’s  the  only  thing  that  Riku  wants,   too.   )

❝   I  don’t  want  you  to  be  sad  anymore,   so  I’m  not  gonna  let  you  eat  my  dreams!   e---even  if  it  means  that   ...   I  have  to  be  sad,   and  even  if  Kairi  says  that  my  dreams  don’t  make  you  sad.   I  think  she’s  wrong.   ❞   @rikudevium!

[kidblader]

“i was talking to —“ riku hesitates, had almost hoped sora wouldn’t ask. draws his legs in closer to his chest, gazes out toward the ocean, contemplative. “myself. you fought with him at castle oblivion, although you don’t remember it. he was — a replica, of the ‘me’ ansem controlled. he doesn’t have a body, now, so he found his way to me. it’s — hard to explain.” he clears his throat, notices that everyone else has turned in for the night. “anyway — big day ahead of us. how are you feeling?”

❝   ———   yourself?   ❞

Sora  thinks  back  to  just  a  little  while  ago,   sitting  with  Kairi  in  their  old  tree,

Hey,   why’s  Riku  all  alone?He  said  he  needed  time  to  himself.   Let’s  let  him  be.

except  Sora  doesn’t  know  how  to  “let  anyone  be”   —   especially  when  that  person  is  Riku,   and  especially  when  everything  that  he  feels  for  Riku  tastes  like  salt  in  his  mouth  and  water  in  his  lungs.   (   In  his  dreams,   he’s  always  falling,   always  drowning,   always  afraid!   Riku  always  wants  to  be  with  him   ———   doesn’t  he?   )

For  the  first  time  in  his  life,   Sora  is  afraid  of  the  answer.

—   here.Huh?For  you  and  Riku.A   …   papou  fruit?Yes,   silly,   a  papou  fruit!   You  should  share  it  with  him   —   before  tomorrow.Why?   Y—You  think  somethin’  bad’s  gonna  happen  tomorrow?I  don’t  know,   Sora.   No  one  does.   I  just  want  you  to  do  it  while  you  still  have  the  chance.   I  know  it  would  make  you  happy;   Riku,   too.What  about  you?I’m  already  happy.   I’m  back  with  you  guys.

Now,   the  papou  fruit  is  a  weight  in  his  pocket,   and  he’s  afraid  of  tomorrow   /   afraid  of  tonight,   sat  cross-legged  across  from  Riku  in  the  sand.

You  fought  with  him  at  Castle  Oblivion,   although  you  don’t  remember  it.   He  was  a  replica,   of  the  “me”  Ansem  controlled.

❝   I  fought  you?!   ❞

Even  as  he  says  it,   he  knows  that  it  shouldn’t  surprise  him.   He’s  fought  Riku  before,   more  than  once   —   except  none  of  them  were  really  Riku,   because  Riku  would  never  really  fight  him.   (   Right?   )   What  does  surprise  him  is  the  fact  that  his  Keyblade  suddenly  materializes  into  his  hand   /   the  fear  that  he  feels  within  the  memories  of  his  other  fights  with  “Riku”,   the  defensiveness   /   the  fact  that  he  can’t  will  his  Keyblade  away  because  he  doesn’t  feel  safe!

He  balances  the  blade  across  his  lap,   hand  shaking  on  the  grip.

❝   I—Is  it   —   Is  it  still  here?   Does  it   …   still  wanna  fight  me?   ❞

He  doesn’t  have  a  body  now,   so  he  found  his  way  to  me.   It’s  hard  to  explain.

❝   ———   huh.   S—So,   does  he   …   live  in  your  heart,   now?   like  Roxas  lives  in  mine?   ❞   and  then,   because  he  can’t  stop  himself:   ❝   D’you   …   like  talking  to  him?   ❞

Anyway———   Big  day  ahead  of  us.   How  are  you  feeling? 

He  supposes  that  the  Keyblade  across  his  lap  betrays  exactly  how  he’s  feeling,   but  he  gives  it  a  voice,   anyway   —   figures  he  owes  Riku  that  much.

❝   ———   s—scared.   I  dunno.   I  just  hope  I  can  protect  everyone,   y’know?   Someone’s  gotta  put  a  stop  to  the  Organization!   Might  as  well  be  me,   right?   We’re  finally  all  together  again   —   you,   me,   Kairi,   Aqua,   Ventus.   Aqua  was  stuck  there  for  ten  years!   Can  you  imagine?!   ❞ 

He  knows  that  Riku  can  imagine  it,   better  than  anyone.   His  grip  tightens  ‘pon  his  Keyblade   —   but,   with  a  couple  of  deep  breaths,   he  seems  to  sober  from  the  outburst. 

❝   ———   s—sorry.   I—I  didn’t  mean—   I  just—   …   No  one  else  gets  hurt,   y’know?   I  have  to  do  something.   I  think———   I  think  tomorrow  might  be  my  last  chance.   ❞   @rikudevium!

[kidblader]

“— heah, khed. looks like ya need this moah ‘n i do.” shrugs off his heavy coat, drapes it over the shivering kid’s shoulder. danny’ll be fine - he’s got a sweatshirt on, and a thermal beneath that. when it comes to boston wintahs, danny doesn’t play around. “the heck ahya doin’ out heah without a coat on, anyways? and why do those guys behind ya got real good donald n’ goofy costumes on? theah’ra cool disney pahty goin’ on?”

❝   ———   h—huh? ❞

Sora  blinks  up  at  the  voice,   and  there’s  so  much  to  take  in  all  at  once  that  he  doesn’t  know  where  to  start.   For  one  thing,   it’s  really  cold  here!   (   It  reminds  him  of  Arendelle,   or  snow  in  San  Fransokyo.   He  wishes  that  he  could  be  more  excited  about  being  in  another  big  city   —   but,   he’s  afraid  that  his  chattering  teeth  will  cleave  his  tongue  in  two  if  he  tries  to  speak  any  more!   )

For  another  thing,   this  guy  is  really   …   big!   Easily  a  foot  taller  than  himself,   and  ten  times  his  weight  and  muscle!   (   Sora  bets  that  he  could  give  all  three  of  them  a  piggyback  ride,   no  problem! He  wants  to  ask,   can’t  decide  if  it  would  be  Donald  or  Riku  materializing  into  this  world  from  sheer  willpower  alone  who  would  chastise  him  for  being  “rude”.   ) He  also  has  a  ring  in  his  nose  that  either  makes  him  look  scary  or  cool,   ( Sora’s  still  trying  to  figure  it  out.   “Scool”? That’s  already  a  word!   )   and  a  funny  accent  that  Sora  has  definitely  never  heard  before.

He  kind  of  sounds  like  he  has  a  cold.Sora  wonders  if  it’s  because  of  the  weather.

Here,   kid.   Looks  like  you  need  this  more  than  I  do.

Before  Sora  can  say  or  do  anything,   the  man  has  already  shed  his  coat,   drapes  it  over  Sora’s  shoulders,   and  it  swallows  him   ( like  the  Darkness,   like  a  mouth!   Maybe  his  mother  never  taught  him  not  to  take  things  from  strangers.   Maybe,   even  if  she  had,   Sora  wouldn’t  have  listened   —   because  why  should  help  ever  be  a  bad  thing?   )   He  sticks  his  arms  through  their  respective  holes,   clutches  the  fur-lined  hood  around  his  face  so  much  so  that  only  his bright  eyes  can  be  seen   —   and,   when  he  speaks  again,   his  voice  is  muffled.

❝   Th—Thanks!   but,   aren’t  you  cold,   too?   ❞

The  heck  are  you  doing  out  here  without  a  coat  on,   anyway?

❝ ‘dunno,   ❞   he  answers,   with  an  innocent  shrug  of  his  shoulders.   ❝   I,   er   ———   didn’t  think  I’d  be  out  here?   ❞

and,   why  do  those  guys  behind  you  got  real  good  Donald  and  Goofy  costumes  on?   There  a  cool  Disney  party  going  on?

Costumes?!

❝   Huh?   ❞  

Sora  is  so  taken  aback  by  the  question  that  he  doesn’t  even  register  Donald’s  outburst   —   and,   just  before  he  can  ask  this  man  how  he  knows  Donald  and  Goofy,   Goofy’s  hand  is  gripping  his  shoulder,   spinning  him  around.

Wait  a  sec,   you  guys!  I  think  the  King  said  somethin’  about  this  before!   This  must  be  one  o’  those  worlds  where  Donald  an’  me  are  cartoon  characters!Cartoon  characters?Yeah!   King  Mickey,   too!   an’  the  Queen,   an’  Daisy   —   all  of  us!   Master  Yen  Sid  made  us  here,   I  think!   That’s  what “Dis-Ney” means!  It’s “Yen  Sid”  backwards!That  doesn’t  make  any  sense!Donald!   Ya  gotta  be  quiet!   Cartoon  characters  ain’t  supposed  t’  talk  in  this  world!   If  this  guy  thinks  we’re  just  people  wearin’  costumes,   then  maybe  that’s  what  we  ought’a  go  with!Good  call,   Goof!   Okay!

Sora  spins  back  around  to  face  the  nice  stranger,   nods  an  enthusiastic  assent  that  definitely  isn’t  compensating  for  the  lie  that  he’s  about  to  tell.

❝   Uh-huh!   We,   uh   ———   “got  lost”.   My  name’s  Sora,   since  you  already  know  Donald  and  Goof.   Could  you   …   tell  us  where  we  are?   ❞

[musterniillustrates]

having love in your heart will literally save you from the otherwise cataclysmic experience of being a human being

[musterniillustrates]

i know what i said u pessimistic bastards and i stand by it!!!!

[kidblader]

jiboshou‌   /   scary  horn  guy!

THE  LONGER  THIS  GOES  ON,   the  more  mitsunari  continues  to  think  he’s  losing  his mind   ——   for  he  definitely  saw  that  kid’s  weapon  disappear  into  thin  air.   he almost wishes  he’d  been attacked instead.   maybe then,  he would already be  awake.

we’re  sworn  to  follow  the  keyblade’s  chosen  !

is that what that weapon is supposed to be  ?   mitsunari supposes it looks similar enough to a key.   he finds himself stuck on the word  chosen.   is the keyblade a sentient being  ?   how does it  choose  ?

where in the  world  did his mind come up with this stuff  ?

you  thought  he  was  a  member  of  organization  xiii,   too  !

apparently,  it gets worse.   the bickering is getting hard to follow,  and he’s grateful that akkorō is doing much of the talking for him,  because he’s slowly starting to lose his patience   (  why  won’t he wake up  ?  ).

i’m  sora  !   this  is  donald   ——   and  that’s  goofy.

good grief.   the dog’s name is goofy.   he looks to akkorō,  with slightly widened,  pleading eyes  —  please,   make  this  make  sense.   how in the  world  is he handling this so calmly  ?   or perhaps akkorō acting as though nothing was out of the ordinary is all part of the dream state.

i  thought  you  were  the  lord. it  is  a  chain  of  command.   i  answer  to  mitsunari,   and  mitsunari  answers  to  lord  hideyoshi. who  answers  to  you  ? no  one.   even  a  chain  ends  somewhere.

mitsunari makes an attempt to protest  —  but sora speaks up again.

well,   you  have  the  sword,   so  i  guess  we  answer  to  you  now. no.   you  answer  to  mitsunari,   just  as  i  do.   you  will  do  well  to  remember  that  i  am  of  no  consequence.

his chest tightens.   must he be so fatalistic,  even in mitsunari’s own dreams  ?   he can’t  stand  hearing him talk like that.

“  stop  that,  ”   he chides,  the sharpness in his voice not without dulled edges.   then,  to sora  —  “  you  may  answer to him.   he seems to frequently forget we have an entire army of men who do the same.  ”   perhaps even prefer to do so over  him.   it’s understandable.

he still knows it may one day be his undoing.

“  you know my name,  then.   beside me is akkorō.   they call him my shadow.   i call him my heart.  ”   it’s the closest thing to public affection that mitsunari oftentimes gets.   but he also says it because he doesn’t like the way sora glances back at him.   he tends not to care for others’ opinions of himself,  especially not that of a  child’s.   but if his gut is telling him that it involves akkorō  ——

has  anyone  here  noticed  any  weird  …   creatures  ?   and,   don’t  say  donald  and  goofy  !

they’ve become self - aware.

“  no,  ”   mitsunari answers,  too immediate  —  pauses,  gives it some thought.   he  truly hasn’t seen anything,  but  —  he amends:   “  perhaps.   masanori burst into camp  hollering  about these small black creatures with beady yellow eyes.   that was  …   yesterday.  ”

he’d,  of course,  told masanori he was hallucinating.   but,  this memory is bringing about another revelation.   the emergence of these creatures occurred  before  he went to bed the previous night.

he couldn’t possibly be dreaming. and now he’s starting to feel  nervous.

“  ————  you know about them,  then  ?  ”   he’s still trying to keep his cool.   the more he speaks,  the more he succeeds.   there’s still hardly any hiding the way he grasps onto the fabric upon akkorō’s back,  tightly,  enough that his knuckles become bone white.   “  perhaps i ought to bring you to  him,  instead.   i think i’d like to  —  see these things for myself.  ”

they  love  each  other.  It’s  so  obvious  to  Sora  now,   and  so  incredible  what  you’ll  see  in  people  once  you  stop  expecting  the  worst.   Akkorō’s  eyes  are  hard  and  dangerous,   but  beneath  all  of  that  is  a  desperation  that  he  knows  that  he’s  seen  before.   (  He  thinks  of  Riku,   and  his  heart  cinches  taut beneath  his  breast.   Riku’s  looked  at  him  this  way,   more  than  once.   )

They  call  him  my  shadow.   I  call  him  my  heart.

Even  here,   in  this  world  that  cannot  comprehend  himself  or  his  friends,   (   or  the  dangers  of  Organization  XIII   )  they  speak  of hearts.

They  love  each  other. (  Riku  loves  him? He  loves  Riku  back?   He  doesn’t  have  time  to  think  about  that  right  now.   )

He  bows,   just  as  Goofy  did  moments  before.

❝   S—Sorry   …   for  attacking  him,   then.   I—I  just  thought   —   ❞

‹   You  needn’t  apologize,   although  I  assure  you  that  I  would  never  harm  Mitsunari.   He  is  my  heart,   as  well.  ›

Sora  smiles  at  that,   because  he  loves  love  more  than  anything  else! (   Beneath  his  mask,   Akkorō  smiles,   too   /   sheathes  his  sword  so  that  he  might  settle  a  hand  within  the  small  of  Mitsunari’s  back.   )

❝   So,   an “entire  army”,  Mister  Akkorō?   Er   ———   “Lord”  Akkorō?   ❞

‹   Just  Akkorō,   please.   Not  even  my  “entire  army” addresses  me  as “lord”.  ›

(  He  supposes  that  it  isn’t  worth  mentioning  that  he  is  technically  still  a  lord  within  the  Chōsokabe   —   and  he  hopes,   for  once,   that  Mitsunari  will  keep  his  big  mouth  shut  about  it.   )

❝   —   if  you  say  so,  “just  Akkorō”.   ❞

Masanori  burst  into  camp  hollering  about  these  small,   black  creatures  with  beady  yellow  eyes.   That  was   …   yesterday.  

Sora  gasps,   re-summons  his  Keyblade.

❝   Heartless!  I  knew  there  had  to  be  a  reason  we  came  here!  ❞

You  know  about  them,   then?

❝   Mm-hmm.  ❞   He  nods,   eager  to  finally  be  of  some   (   real   )   help!   ❝   Those “Organization  XIII”  people  I  mentioned?   They   …   “use”  them  to  do  bad  things.   That’s  why  I  attacked  Akkorō  without  really  thinking.   They  all  wear  creepy  black  cloaks,   s—so  I  thought   …   ❞

‹   Ah.   Well,   you  needn’t  worry.   My  only  crime  is  being  horrendously  ugly.  ›

The  sadness  that  Sora  feels  from  the  statement  feels  like  teeth  sinking  into  his  chest.   (   He  doesn’t  think  that  he’s  ever  met  someone  as  sad  as  Akkorō,   wonders  what  could  possibly  have  happened  to  him  to  make  him  feel  this  way.   )

Perhaps  I  ought  to  bring  you  to  him,  instead.   I  think  I’d  like  to   —   see  these  things  for  myself.

❝  Yeah,   definitely!   but,   maybe  you  should hang  back  from  the  Heartless,   Lord  Mitsunari.   They’re  serious  trouble.   You  could  get  hurt.   ❞

Sora  glances  at  Akkorō,   now,   and  the  man  nods  an  understanding   —   or,   maybe  it’s  a thanks.

‹   I  agree.   Let  us  not  rush  to  confront  an  enemy  which  we  do  not  understand.   We  will  speak  with  Masanori   —   Gods  help  us   —   and  then,   from  there,   we  may  devise  a  plan.   You  are  exceptionally  good at  that,   my  love.   With  your  wisdom  to  guide  our  blades,   I  will  fear  far  less   —   and  then  you  may  sate  your  curiosity  with  these   …   “Heartless”.   ›

❝   Yeah!   ❞   Sora  chimes  in,   pumps  a  fist  in  the  air  for  emphasis.   ❝   We’ll  be  your  Shadow,   too,   Lord  Mitsunari!   Those  Heartless  won’t  know  what  hit  ‘em  if  we  work  together!   Whaddaya  say?!   ❞

[kidblader]

❝   ———   huh?   ❞

Sora  blinks,   taken  aback  by  the  reprimand,   lets  his  guard  down  just  enough  for  the  man  in  the  mask  to  press  his  defense   —   completes  the  swing  of  his  lengthy  blade  with  such  a  force  that  Sora  stumbles  backward,   and  his  Keyblade  disappears  into  thin  air. 

❝   —   but,   he———   !   ❞

He’s  with  me.   Your  intent  is  admirable,   but  you’d  do  well  to  learn  to  assess  the  situation  better.

❝   Hey!   I  was  only  trying  to  help!   ❞

He’s  right,   you  know!  You  do  tend  to  rush  into  things,   Sora.

❝   Whose  side  are  you  guys  on,   anyway?!   Y---You  had  your  weapons  out,   too!   ❞

We’re  sworn  to  follow  the  Keyblade’s  Chosen!

❝   Oh,   don’t  give  me  that!   You  thought  he  was  a  member  of  Organization  XIII,   too!   ❞

Akkorō  tenses  at  the  name,   tightens  his  grip  ‘pon  his  blade  and  wields  it  with  both  hands,   positions  himself  protectively  in  front  of  Mitsunari.   (   He  may  not  understand  what  they’re  talking  about,   but  he  does  understand  that  they  believe  him  to  be  a  threat   —   which  means  that,   whoever  this  “Organization  XIII”  may  be,   they  are  also  a  threat.   He  wishes  that  Mitsunari  were  taking  this  a  mite  more  seriously.   )

He  looks  like  he’s  protecting  him.

❝   Yeah.   No  Organization  member  would  do  that.   ❞

State  your  name  and  purpose  here.   As  I’m  certain  I’m  dreaming,   I’m  not  even  going  to  question  those  two  things  behind  you. 

“Things”?! Aw,   shucks.   That  kinda  stung  a  little.

❝   Hey!   You  can’t  just  talk  to  people  like  that!   ❞

‹   You  will  have  care  how  you  speak  to  my  lord.   You  are  fortunate  he  did  not  blindly  attack  them.   ›

Sora  recoils  at  that,   knows  the  masked  man  is  right.

❝   Sorry,   ❞   he  offers,   and  Donald  and  Goofy  chime  in  with  apologies  of  their  own. 

‹   Do  as  he  commands.   State  your  name  and  purpose  here.   ›

❝   Oh!   Right.   I’m  Sora!   This  is  Donald   —   ❞   a  gesture  toward  the  “massive  duck”,   ❝   —   and,   that’s  Goofy.   ❞   The  dog  bows,   and  Akkorō  cannot  decide  if  it  is  a  mockery  or  a  genuine  display  of  respect.   ❝   O---Our  “purpose”  is,   uh   —   ❞

Are  you  here  to  seek  an  audience  with  Lord  Hideyoshi?

Don’t  offer  them  one,   idiot!   Akkorō  thinks   — but,   it  would  seem  that  this  “Sora”  is  an  even  bigger  idiot.

❝   Lord  who?   I  thought  you  were  the  lord.   ❞

‹   It  is  a  chain  of  command.   I  answer  to  Mitsunari,   and  Mitsunari  answers  to  Lord  Hideyoshi.   ›

Who  answers  to  you?

‹   No  one.   Even  a  chain  ends  somewhere.   ›

There’s  something  in  the  masked  man’s  voice  that  sounds  so  sad,   and  it  makes  Sora’s  heart  ache  for  him.

❝   Well,   you  have  the  sword,   so  I  guess  we  answer  to  you  now.   ❞

‹   No.   You  answer  to  Mitsunari,   just  as  I  do.   You  will  do  well  to  remember  that  I  am  of  no  consequence.   Now,   do  you  wish  to  meet  with  Lord  Hideyoshi,   or  not?   ›

Sora’s  hands  furl  into  fists  at  his  sides,   because  he  knows  that  there  must  be  more  going  on  in  this  world  than  one  man’s  sadness,   but  he  still  wants  to  fix  it!

❝   Sure,   ❞   he  finally  answers,   glances  back  at  Mitsunari.   (   Sora  wonders  why  he  wears  such  scary  horns,   wonders  if  he’s  the  cause  of  the  masked  man’s  sadness,   wonders  why  the  masked  man  would  still  protect  him  if  that  were  the  case.   )   ❝   Has  anyone  here  noticed  any  weird   ...   creatures?   and,   don’t  say  Donald  and  Goofy!   ❞   @jiboshou!

[purplebuddhaproject]

You look like a dream I’ve never had before.

Richard Brautigan 

[lifeinpoetry]

never forget that softness is strength, unflinching / against the knife and it is also the knife.

Jess Rizkallah, The Magic My Body Becomes: Poems

[kidblader]

rikudevium‌   /   riku.

PERHAPS  HE  OUGHT  TO  HAVE  EXPECTED   sora  would  put  up  a  fight.   the two of them were alike in that they were both  so  stubborn,  even if in two very different ways.   the difference is that sora’s stubbornness has a very childlike  innocence  behind it.   naive optimism.   but then,  that’s why sora has always been the brightest light in his life  —  why he fought his way back out of the darkness.

sora has always been the light that guides him home.

and while most other people would let him wrap gauze around his injury while they’re on the move,  he knows sora will not rest until he is certain the injury has healed,  or is well on its way to healing completely.

you’re  not  ‘ fine, ’   riku  !   sora insists,  and riku doesn’t have the heart to tell him he has shed far more blood than this.

there  isn’t  anything  more  important  to  me  than  you  !   don’t  you  get  that  by  now  ?!

perhaps he ought to have expected it,  but the words still take him aback,  cause his chest to tighten up,  make it almost too hard to breathe.   he  does  understand,  although part of him wishes he  didn’t.   he  does  get it  —  but he wishes that he  wasn’t  so important to sora.   after everything,  he still doesn’t think he’s  worth  it.

(  he’s  trying  to be worth it,  though.   he wants more than anything to be the friend that sora has always deserved.  )

i’m  not  going  anywhere  until  you’re  better  !   you  can’t  make  me.

punctuated by sitting himself right on the ground,  cross - legged,  puppy dog eyes right back up at riku,  and that tightness in his chest loosens just a touch,  blossoms into warmth,  and there’s  amusement  that pulls at his lips,  alights his eyes.

“  bold  of you to assume i’m  above  putting you over my shoulder and  leaving,  ”   he remarks,  arms crossed.   at the same time,  though,  he feels himself starting to give in  —  begins to suppose that this will go a lot easier if he just  gives  in.   and,  then,  he notices the tears in sora’s eyes.   and he’s surprised,  once again.   breathless.   and there’s a brief stab of pain in his heart.

because,  he  loves  sora.   and he comprehends the way that he does fully.   he just isn’t certain sora loves him in the same way.   maybe he does,  and he just doesn’t understand it.

above all else,  sora reminds riku that someone in this world thinks he’s worth loving.

so he offers an arm to sora.   and he sighs,  resigned,  but all soft.   “  two seconds,  huh  ?   fine.   get back up then,  will ya  ?   you win,  this time  —  but  only  if you start smiling again,  got that  ?  ”

and as he helps sora back on his feet,  his impulse control fails him  —  and he’s reaching over,  wiping away a stray tear with his thumb.   “  you’re important to me too,  sora.   more than you’ll ever know.   and i hate to see you so upset.  ”

sora  has  never  understood  how  or  why  Riku,   of  all  people,   turned  to  the  darkness;   Riku,   who  has  always  been  the  brightest  light  in  his  life;   Riku,   who   —

We’ve  always  been  rivals,   haven’t  we? No!   We’ve  always  been  friends!

Riku,   who  he  grew  up  with,   laid  on  his  back  in  the  warm  sand  of  Destiny  Islands  and  watched  the  stars  with   —

Sora,   you  wanted  one,   didn’t  you? A  papou  fruit. If  two  people  share  one,   their  destinies  become  intertwined.   They’ll  remain  a  part  of  each  other’s  lives,   no  matter  what.   C’mon,   I  know  you  want  to  try  it.

I  do!   he  thinks,   thought   —   still  thinks,   two  years  later. (   He  thinks  that  he  loves  Riku,   but  he  doesn’t  know  the  word  for  it.   )

The  only  word  that  he  knows  right  now  is  “hurt”,  because  it  hurts  to  see  Riku  hurt,   and  it  hurts  to  care  so  much.   (  It  hurts  to  know  that  Riku  doesn’t  think  himself  important  enough  to  be  helped.   He  told  Goofy  that  a  little  hurt  isn’t  such  a  bad  thing   —   but,   this  isn’t  just  a “little”  hurt.   This  is  a fatal  wound.  )

Bold  of  you  to  assume  I’m  above  putting  you  over  my  shoulder  and  leaving.

❝   H—Hey!  Riku!   That’s  no  fair!   ❞

He  sniffs,   realizes  that  he’s  begun  to  cry  in  earnest,   raises  fists  to  hastily  wipe  at  his  eyes.   (  This  hurts,   this  hurts,   this  hurts  so  much,   Riku’s  hurt,   make  it  stop   — !   )

Sora,   have  you  finally  decided  to  call  upon  the  darkness? It’s  not  darkness!   not  if  it  helps  him!

Sora  understands,   now,   how  and  why  Riku  turned  to  the  darkness. He  knows  that  he  would  do  the  same   ———   for  Riku,   if  it  helped  him.

Two  seconds,   huh?  Fine.

Riku’s  voice  calls  him  back  from  the  brink,   because  it  always  has,   and  he  returns  to  see  Riku’s  arm  inches  away  from  him,   palm  open,   proffering.

Get  back  up,   then,   will  you?   You  win  this  time   —   but,   only  if  you  start  smiling  again.

The  corners  of  his  mouth  curl  with  a  will  of  their  own,   and  his  answering  grin  is  so  big  and  bright  that  it  hurts  in  the  middle  of  his  cheeks.   (  A  little  hurt  isn’t  such  a  bad  thing.   Hurt  is  how  we  know  that  we  love.   )

❝   Haha!   You  got  it!   ❞

Sora  takes  hold  of  his  hand,   supports  all  of  his  own  weight  so  that  Riku  doesn’t  have  to,   gasps  softly  when  Riku’s  hand  moves  to  cup  his  cheek   —   thumbs  away  a  stray  tear.

You’re  important  to  me,   too,   Sora   —   more  than  you’ll  ever  know   —   and,   I  hate  to  see  you  so  upset.

❝   H—Hey.   What’s  that  supposed  to  mean?   ❞

He  blinks,   naive  confusion,   wipes  the  rest  of  the  tears  from  his  eyes  before  deciding  to  focus  on  the  one  thing  that  he  does  understand:   Riku’s  injury.

❝   Anyway,   let’s  get  you  fixed  up!  There  was  a  pool-thingy  a  little  ways  back  where  we  could  clean  you  up,   so  you  at  least  won’t  look  like  you  totally  got  creamed  by  a  Nobody.   ❞

A  boyish  giggle,   and  then  he  softens   /   sobers  as  he  raises  Riku’s  injured  arm  level  with  his  chest,   hovers  his  free  hand  over  the  gash  and  murmurs  the  incantation  for  Cura   —   watches  the  skin  stitch  itself  shut,   watches  the  redness  and  inflammation  dissolve  into  just  the  slightest  hint of  irritation.   (  It  isn’t  a  complete  heal,   but  it’s  enough  that  he  exhales  relief.   )  He  tops  it  off  with  a  sweet  little  kiss,   thinks  nothing  of  it.

❝   ———   there!   All  better!  Was  that  so  hard?  Now   —   to  the  pool-thingy!   Up,   up,   and  away!  ❞

[kidblader]

“— —i told you i’m fine, sora.” if one didn’t know him any better, one would say he was whining. in reality, he’s soaking the attention up — he can’t remember the last time anyone doted on him as much as sora was now. the king hardly came close — though he did worry in his own way. (granted, sora likely has cause to worry; he’s greatly understating his injury.) “it’s just a scratch. i’ve had worse. we’ve got more important stuff to worry about.”

❝   you’re  not  “fine”,   riku!  ❞

Small  hands  are  furled  into  fists  at  his  sides,   and  his  face  is  pulled  into  such  a  tight  scowl  that  he  can  hear  his  mother  gently  chastising  him  for  it.   (  It’ll  stick  that  way,   Sora   —   and  then  you’ll  look  silly!   )

Sorry,   Mom   —   but,   my  friend  is  hurt! Besides,   maybe  if  I  look  silly,   Riku’ll  laugh  again.

He  can’t  remember  the  last  time  Riku  did  that.

Blue  eyes  dart  down  toward  the  bridge  of  Riku’s  arm,   toward  the  gash  from  a  Nobody’s  blade  that  bleeds  freely,   drip-drip-drips  onto  the  grass  beneath  their  feet.   (  Sora  imagines  it  seeping  into  the  parched  earth,   imagines  a  new  Riku  sprouting  through  the  cracks   —   red  and  dripping,   wielding  a  Keyblade,   your  heart  is  weak,   the  body  may  die  but  a  heart  lives  forever!   )

Riku’s  heart  lives  forever  in  him,   just  as  his  own  heart  lives  forever  within  Riku.  (   He  has  many  friends,   all  of  whom  live immortal  lives  within  his  heart,   but  Riku  has  always  been   …   something  else,   something  more,  something  that  he  could  never  have  the  words  to  articulate  or  the  knowledge  to  discern   —   a  second  heart,   full  and  beating  and  occupying  the  space  beside  his  own,   and  then  a  third  that  is  entirely  his  and  entirely  Riku’s  in  turn   /   a  third  that  is  not,   and  will  never  be,   shared  with  anyone  else.   )

He’s   just  all  heart   —   which  sounds  noble,   until  it  hurts,   until  there’s  no  more  room  in  your  chest  to  breathe.

It’s  just  a  scratch.   I’ve  had  worse.   We’ve  got  more  important  stuff  to  worry  about.

❝   There  isn’t  anything  more  important  to  me  than you!   Don’t  you  get  that by  now?!   ❞

Maybe  Riku  finds  it  endearing  to  watch  him  fret  so  over  “nothing”,   but  he  should  understand  better  than  anyone  that  nothing  is  “nothing” to  Sora!

❝   You  know  that  I  can  heal  it!   It’ll  take,   like,   two  seconds!   and  then  we  can  keep  doing  all  of  our “important”  stuff   ———   but,   I’m  not  going  anywhere  until  you’re  better!   You  can’t  make  me.   ❞

In  fact,   he  makes  a  show  of  sitting  cross-legged  on  the  ground,   folds  his  arms  across  his  chest,   pouts  up  at  Riku.

(   He  loves  Riku,   in  a  way  that  he  is  too  naive  to  comprehend.While  he  awaits  the  other’s  decision,   his  eyes  well  with  very  real tears.   )   @rikudevium!

[antigonick]

At least I have the flowers of myself, and my thoughts, no god can take that; I have the fervour of myself for a presence and my own spirit for light;

H. D. excerpt of “Eurydice”, in Collected Poems 1912-1944