“ i hurt people. it’s all I’m good at. ” from riku.
❛ that’s a lie, and you know it. ❜
sugarcoating words was never a skill she’d learned. she’d typically fell onto the rule that honesty was the best policy – when applicable, of course; she’d had to bend the rules for her own sake at times. but even so, despite the implication of her tone, his words did not anger her.
rather, she just felt sad.
she was mourning. she longed for their innocent childhood, for times where their only care lay with silly activities that bore no consequence. absolutely mindless things, truly, such as who won the races across the shore, or the games of blitzball the boys on the isles would group together to play, her and selphie bickering over who could cheer the loudest. or perhaps those hazy late nights, when they’d first grown old enough to paddle the small boats back to the main island on their own – the soft cricket chirps and splashing of water beneath enough to calm her even after the most hectic of days. she dreamed for these simpler times; wishing she could pluck the moments from her memory and dive back in. ideologies she could truly drown in, had the impossible been possible.
it wasn’t just childhood dreams in which her sadness lay, either. it was the friendship they’d all once held, their trio, their once seemingly inseparable companionship – torn to bits in the matter of a year or two. she missed what they’d once been, what they could have continued to develop into, the adults they could have became together – rather than the strings of fate that’d once tied their limbs to one another tearing apart at the seams, leaving them nothing but hollow and bruised.
was growing up this harsh for every teenager, she could not help but wonder? and if so, how did adults bear this loneliness she felt; the darkness she’d never quite had still threatening to swallow her whole.
in it all, though, she really just felt for HIM. for one of her (once) best friends, for riku. not pity, simply sadness. despite her own turmoil, if she’d had the option to tear the burdens from riku’s shoulders, she’d don them herself in a heartbeat. she’d let them crush her into the sand beneath (perhaps then, she could truly become one with the sea, free from all worry), if it meant riku did not have to let these sinful beliefs fall from his lips in confession.
instead, all she could offer was her words. and what they could do, she did not know; yet she spoke them with as much sincerity as she could.
❛ you never hurt me, not once. ❜ her voice was quiet, and something within made her avoid his gaze. viridescent hues, typically mesmerising in their determination, now intimidated her. since when had they become such strangers? ❛ you made – make – ❜ she corrected, wishing she could bite her tongue off for every mistaken word, ❛ sora and i both happy. so please… don’t say that. it’s not true. ❜