Nostalgia, and the Need to Go

It's sunset when he comes to a stop.

The world before him is dyed in rose, sweet orange and red mingling with the burning gold of the sun. Up high hangs the velvet edge of night—indigo and violet, blue and black, the barest hint of stars. Down low the sea goes on forever, endless beauty, eternal cage. Nostalgia, and the need to go.

Do I hate it or is it home?

"Riku."

He turns, looks back down the path behind him. He can see the days spent crossing bridges and wandering boardwalks, climbing trees and delving caves. He can see the hours spent discovering all the hidden nooks in the cliffs, watching storms from the shack, sinking toes into the sand at the water's edge. He can see the blues of summer sky, purest sea, and the eyes of his eternity.

His chest aches as Sora steps off the bridge.

"Hey," he manages.

"Hey," Sora returns.

They waste no time assuming their usual stances; Sora on the tree trunk, Riku reclined against it. The paopu tree bends with Riku's weight, dipping just a little where it overhangs the sea. I've grown, he thinks, and doesn't ask why the tree won't bend the same for Sora.

Instead he recalls all the different memories etched into its bark. The hours spent every day looking over that teasing blue, sitting where Sora is now. The fights it bore witness to, the clatter of swords that caught on the wind and flew out over sea and shore. The voices of the other kids calling them down, begging them to play. Evenings with Sora and Kairi, contemplating their futures. So many moments, so many memories.

Riku had fun, he thinks, but more so when it was just him and Sora. And even then I still wanted to be alone sometimes—

Or did I? Was that really how I felt back then? Or was that the year I spent learning to overcome my darkness, when I forgot what it was like to be near other people? Was it when I spent so much time watching Sora sleep, realizing what I'd give up just to wake him?

He's not really sure anymore. He's changed so much things are all tangled inside, and he hasn't really had time to start picking things apart.

Riku stares out over the sea. Sora's been quiet for some time now, and it's that more than anything that reminds Riku this is only a dream—a fantasy his heart came up with to cope with life, with himself, with everything that's happened and everything that will.

I guess I just want to talk to him again. But the words Riku comes up with will never be the same. Better to sit in quiet than sink into the sham.

Something quivers in his chest then. Things unfurl—memories, like the stars up high, all those bright lights in a sea of darkness to match the one below. Riku doesn't know when it became night, but all he cares about is those stars. They're falling, plummeting into the sea. Riku tries to catch them all and fails, too many too dear to him. He could never hold them all, never keep them all safe.

He tries anyway. He must, when it comes to the things he treasures.

So many slip through. Like rain drops they shatter when they hit the sea. Him and Sora on the beach—the memory of a single tear. Childhood games and promises and nights spent watching shooting stars. Other faces, from near and far. Everything falls like shooting stars.

Everyone falls like shooting stars.

Can Riku protect everyone? Can he protect his friends?

Yes.

No.

Plans for a raft shatter in a storm of his own making, snatching the two—three of them up and casting them so very far from each other. The rest of their world sinks into shadows as swiftly and surely as Riku does himself. Memories of alliances and counsel with villains tangle with those of Sora pulling his lips into a smile. All recollection of that time is split in two—the reality, that Sora missed him and loved him, and the fantasy, that Sora could replace him, that Sora wanted to.

Bitter bile rises in his throat. He cuts off the memories there only to be ensnared by the chains of new ones. Escaping the darkness only to be caught in the pale maze of Castle Oblivion. Stepping off all known roads and onto his path to dawn. Condemning a girl and a boy to their ends for the sake of the one he's chosen to protect. Lurking atop a skyscraper of memory, waiting for a fight he wishes he'd never had.

Making the sacrifice. Becoming him.

Time goes by and then Kairi pushes back his hood, Sora kneels in tears. A fight in a world between, then a conversation, the Dark Margin. The Door to Light. They meet on a beach for the briefest moment, then a message in a bottle sends them back into the fray. Sora sinks as Riku rises, rises from the shadows like the reborn sun with sword in hand to protect his dreams. Dives back down to rescue his heart.

On and on their journey goes until there in the Keyblade Graveyard Riku finally does what he was always meant to do. He dies protecting Sora.

Yet Sora was still the one to fade.

I failed to keep him safe. After everything I failed him again.

Riku turns, back on the islet once more. Sora is no longer there. Riku's heart expands in his chest, wishing desperately to burst. It doesn't. He takes what energy it gives him and catches a handful of stars that fall close, finds the Dark Margin again. He wants to sit and talk there, forever with Sora at the end of the road. He never wants to leave that beach.

Never wants to leave this islet.

He climbs onto the tree where Sora sat, settles as he did when he was young, brooding. Maybe I still am. He holds up a hand and it flickers before his eyes; young, old, sometimes gloved and other times not. He is both pale and golden, the skin of a boy and the skin of a man.

Guilt rises in his throat this time, reaches from the sea to drag him down beneath the waves. It fails, Riku clinging to the tree as the world sways. He's come so far, so far, gone from an arrogant child to a Keyblade Master. There's still further to go, he thinks, and I can't stop now.

Indeed he can't, because somewhere out there Sora's—

Waiting.

It all comes back to him in the end. Who do you want to protect the most?

The one I can't.

Riku stays on the tree.

Time passes, stars shifting across the sky. The moonlight is unnaturally bright against the dark. There's a paopu blossom ripening into fruit amidst the leaves of its tree. He doesn't need it. As much as he likes the romance, no legend can bind his destiny to Sora's more than his heart already has.

Dawn comes and Riku looks upon it. The world changes, the colors less vivid, a little more pale. Still beautiful, still a cage. Maybe he can hate and love it all at once, his home—but not now. Now it is empty, and there is nothing here but memories.

Not for long. Not forever.

The Way to Dawn has come and gone for Riku, his journey once more leading him to look upon the world from this island. Once again he does not know where to go, but that he must. Once again he will cast himself into the unknown to find what he seeks. This time, however, he has someone to protect from the journey's start.

To protect.

All that still left him guilty, all that still shamed him, all the failures that left his stomach churning, heart weak, cheeks burning—all that could be put aside. He rises trembling from the tree and walks to the edge of the islet, feels the sun on his skin.

A door awaits him, a door to all worlds, to all dreams. Wherever, whenever, Riku will find him.

And this time we'll come home together, side by side as we were meant to be.