(oh, look, a thing)
This world is burning. Kairi chokes on dirt and dust, on tears and metallic blood bubbling in the back of her throat. She cracks her keyblade into the hard earth, muscles screaming in protest as she uses to heave herself to her feet. Her legs barely have any strength left in them, leaving her staggering.
“Riku,” she whispers, barely a sound. She coughs again, warmth trickles down her chin. She tries again, “Riku,” yet it comes out as a broken rasp. Her breaths are no more than a wheeze, her chest feels like it’s been caved in.
And yet, she puts one foot in front of the other. Even as the sky is smothered by the storm, casting everything in a twilight sort of darkness, she knows she can’t be alone. Kairi fights against the blustering winds threating to take her away, her grip on Destiny’s Embrace never wavering even as her shoes drag. Time passes slowly, the distance she walks feels like nothing….
But she keeps going, head bowed to protect her face from the sting of sand, her skin etched raw. She wipes tears away, drags her glove over the blood on her lips. Continues to move forward.
“Riku,” she murmurs, her words lost in the wind. “Riku, please—.”
She trips.
An abandoned keyblade, right in her path. Her knees crack when they hit the ground, her palms scrape raw from when she tries to catch herself. She stays there, stunned, on her hand and knees, eyes wide at the abandoned keyblade. Because she knows this keyblade, from the wide blade to the dark guard and handle. The familiar three circle charm is coated in dust, one the links threating to pull apart.
Kairi takes it with a shaking hand, searching around frantically for the owner. She spots him only a few feet away, laying still and silent, face turned away from her. She scrambles towards him, barely getting off the ground, both keyblade screeching against the hard earth.
“Riku!” she cries. She drops their weapons, shakes his back. Tears spring forward anew; thick sobs break through her chest. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t even seem to be breathing. Blood coats the side of his face, staining his silver hair.
(oh look, another thing)
Sora can’t move. Can’t blink. Can’t even breath. Vanitas smirks, something wicked and twisted, and stalks around him in a slow circle. When he disappears behind him, panic leaps to his throat, choking him.
“You’re afraid of me,” Vanitas remarks, appearing on Sora’s other side.
No, he thinks. No, he lies. Vanitas’ smirk grows. He reaches out, cupping Sora’s face with both hands. If he could, Sora would flinch. Fear runs down his back, his eyes sting. Vanitas’ fingers are cold against his skin, his thumbs rough where they dig into the soft flesh under Sora’s eyes.
“Shame,” he says, soft, dangerous. “It would probably save you if you were.”
His jaw creaks, his throat burns. “Don’t touch me,” Sora whispers.
Vanitas laughs, squeezes his face tighter. “What you going to do about it, So-rah?” he mocks. He yanks him closer until they’re nose to nose, gold eyes burning. “You’re powerless. Have been this entire time. Your keyblade? Because of Ventus. Your powers? Because of your friends. You don’t have a single worthwhile bone in your body.”
“You’re…” His voice wavers and fades. Sora closes his eyes and swallows thickly. “You’re wrong.”
“Am I? Am I really? Take a good look at yourself, So-rah. Don’t be so deluded.”
A sob catches in his chest. “Don’t call me that.”
Vanitas presses harder under his eyes, to the point of pain. Sora gasps, eyes flying open. “Don’t call you what?” he taunts. “Your name? At this point, are you even sure it’s your name? Maybe Roxas actually came first.”
“Stop.”
“Make me, oh powerful Golden Boy.”
Sora’s fingers twitch, but that’s as far as he gets. “Stop it.”
Cold darkness bleeds from Vanitas’ eyes, dripping like tears down his cheeks, streaking over his smirk. A feeling like ice spreads across Sora’s face, curling over his lips and invading his mouth. He chokes on the darkness, drowns in the overwhelming despair and anger bearing down on him.
Vanitas’ hands slide down to wrap around Sora’s throat. He doesn’t apply pressure, just simply holds Sora as he gasps desperately for untainted air. He watches him like a curious bird, head titled to the side, as Sora’s knees buckle and his back bows.
“This is going to be so much fun.”
Preview! From the same fic! Will I ever finish? I hope so! 10 years in the making and KH3 kicking me into gear. Hope people like it