Sea at Sunset

"...I fought with Ansem. With...Xehanort's Heartless—when it invaded my heart, and I won. But to use the power of darkness, I had to become Ansem myself."

The words circled in Sora's head. They rose like the waves, slammed down upon the shore, then receded once they had made their mark upon the land to start the cycle anew. Riku's voice ebbed and flowed; a soft susurrus that always spoke in the same guilt-tinged, shame-filled tones.

"...I had to become Ansem myself." 

At the time, Sora hadn't really taken note of Riku's suffering. He had cared about Riku's pain, of course, but it hadn't really been a priority. He'd been overwhelmed by the fact that Riku was there, that he was safe, really, truly safe, and that he, Sora, and Kairi had finally been reunited. No longer were they out of Sora's reach, fate unknowable, hands untouchable. They'd been there at his side, and that was all Sora had been able to think about.

Well, that and the threat of Xemnas, he supposed.

Now though, with Organization XIII dealt with and their battle over, Riku's distress consumed him.

Returning home had been hard for all of them, but there was no denying Riku had it the worst. Sure, Sora and Kairi struggled, but Riku's problems were two-fold. There was the fact he had to face everything he'd done to Destiny Islands; hear Selphie, Tidus, and Wakka talk about unexplained absences after 'that really big storm' the year before last, remember how he'd been willing to sacrifice everything he'd ever known just for a chance to escape his island prison. All his scars split open as he mulled over every mistake, every decision, every error in judgment leading up to that fateful night and beyond.

And then there was the fact he still wore Ansem's face.

As if Riku didn't have enough issues of his own to deal with, he was stuck wearing the face of the man who'd lured him and used him, who'd haunted and hurt all three of them. It was the rotten cherry on top of the moldy cupcake of his life; the last thing he needed when everything else already sucked. Explaining why Riku looked the way he did hadn't been easy either, the majority of the islanders regarding him with skepticism and suspicion—even when he knew things only the real Riku could know!

For Riku though, Sora assumed, the worst part was that it all functioned as a reminder of what he looked like, and worse, why it was he could look like that in the first place. It turned the singular rotten cherry into a double; the constant consideration of what it meant to be able to take Ansem's form.

What's it like to no longer be yourself? Sora wondered. What's it like to be stuck at your worst, wearing the skin of a man who hurt you, who symbolizes everything you hate about yourself?

He wished he could hear Roxas's voice in his head. While Sora didn't think he could answer the latter questions, his thoughts on the former would have been much appreciated. You'd understand. I mean, it was annoying when people kept calling me by your name, but I didn't suffer the way you did. I was a Heartless for a little while too, and that reassured me I could save Riku during our first fight with Ansem, but this time...it's different. It doesn't help.

Sora wanted to rip his hair out. He felt so useless. I can't do anything for Riku or anyone else. Maybe you were wrong to dub me a true hero, Phil.

He sighed. The whole situation was a mess. At least Mickey and the others had promised to look into it once they returned home, although there was no guarantee they'd find anything.

"I'm not sure there's much we can do," Mickey'd said, "but we'll try. If Ansem the Wise were still around, I'd ask him what he thought about it, because I..."

"Because you what, Your Majesty?" Sora asked.

"I feel as if something should have happened when the Kingdom Hearts Encoder exploded. The energy from that, well, it was like nothing I'd ever experienced! But I can't imagine why the light from all those gathered hearts would reject Riku, unless..."

"Unless?"

"Well, either it was mighty judgmental, or it felt that there was a goodness in Riku now that didn't need changing. Still, I don't understand why it couldn't give him back his old body..." He sounded sad, but when he noticed Sora looking down at him he forced a smile. "But if there's a way to get his body back, we'll find it. That's a promise!"

The King had spoken with confidence, but all Sora had heard was the if.

It was only an if.

The whole thing made Sora feel worthless. He couldn't assure Riku with any certainty he'd return to his old self. He didn't know what to do, or if he could help. Mickey had told them to rest up, and they needed to, but knowing there was nothing he could do left Sora's heart heavy and stomach churning. Did they think all that science-y stuff would go over my head? That I'd have nothing to contribute? Or maybe they wanted me out of the way while they were doing their research...

He shook his head. No, don't think like that. And even if they did want me out of the way, it's not like they asked Kairi or Riku to join them either. None of us understand the filing system the King uses, so it makes sense they wouldn't want us around. We'd probably just make a mess or something...

A sigh slipped past his lips before he could swallow it. What good were all these stupid thoughts? They weren't getting him any closer to his goal. No, he had to be positive and actually consider his options. There had to be a way to help Riku feel a little more at home in his body, and on Destiny Islands. It was the least he could do. The reason Riku looked the way he did was because of him, after all.

I'd want to help him anyway, but it was my clumsiness and poor decisions that got him into this mess in the first place. If I hadn't screwed up, then all that horrible stuff with Roxas wouldn't have had to happen, neither of them would've been hurt, and Riku wouldn't have had to give up his body for me.

Sora slapped his cheeks, banishing all self-depreciating thoughts. He had to make a choice. Either he could remind Riku of how things used to be and distract him from all the ways their lives had changed, or he could help him explore his new body, his new life, and embrace all the ways in which things were different. Some of those changes have to be good, after all. 

Something flickered in Sora's chest then; a light he'd nursed for a long time, small, but growing day by day. It danced around his heart, flames fluttering, heat building. He didn't know what it was, though he knew it had always been there. There were others like it, one for every person in his heart, but this one—this one was for him.

"Riku," he said aloud, and smiled. "I'm going to figure this out. I might not be the best or the brightest, but I'll find a way, I promise."

 

---

 

Three weeks passed, and Sora still hadn't come up with a way to help Riku. He tried not to be too hard on himself, because he'd managed to accomplish a whole lot during that short span of time, which included clamping down on the urge to use magic at inopportune moments (he'd nearly lit a bonfire with Firaga more than once). He'd managed to readjust to life on Destiny Islands and rekindle most of his old friendships. Not bad, for someone who'd been away a year and a half.

Yet none of that left him any less frustrated than he'd been in the beginning. Seeing Riku as he was now hurt. He was so obviously, painfully aware of his body, and all the ways in which it was wrong. Sora could see it in how he hung back, hunching over to make himself smaller. He could see it in how he styled his hair, attempting to hide his face and all its strange, new features. He could even see it in his eyes, in the way he averted them, trying to draw attention from the fact they shone amber at all hours; aqua seas receded out of sight.

The fact that their friends kept staring at him didn't help matters either, though Sora couldn't blame them for doing so. Riku looked different, really different, and they'd likely never know why.

Of course, everyone remembered the storm. It wasn't a night easily forgotten, especially when one considered how peaceful the seas usually were around Destiny Islands. The vicious winds and dark skies were ingrained into their memories. It was a monsoon of such proportions they'd be telling their grandkids about it. What they didn't recall, though, were the Heartless swarming the shores and streets, the maelstrom ripping the islands to pieces as a great shadow dragged them into the depths of the End of the World.

So long as the islanders remained unaware of this, world order had to be preserved. Sora and his friends had to accept that no one remembered the darkness, had to go along with the assumption that those who were missing had been lost to the sea and the wind. The people of Destiny Islands had provided mundane explanations for everything that had occurred that night, allowing them to acknowledge its madness and mourn those passed, and move on.

Unfortunately, being unable to explain the circumstances of that night had also meant being unable to explain to their friends why Riku had run off the moment he'd heard the word missing. They hadn't had time to talk anyway, both panicking as they searched the island for Riku, eventually finding him hiding in a rocky nook. It had taken a while to coax him out of there, the two offering what comfort they could while he trembled, nails deep in his palms.

You wanted to leave so badly you were willing to do anything, except you weren't. But there was no way to know at the time what your actions would cost you. You were reckless and selfish, but you weren't cruel, not really. How can it be cruel, for a boy to want to escape his cage? But then you had some time to think about everything that had happened, and you realized you hadn't wanted things to turn out the way they did. You realized you didn't like what you'd done or who you'd become, and you changed, and that's what really matters in the end. So long as you're alive, you can always change.

And that last thought was what was most important to Sora, because even if Riku had known what the cost of opening the door would be, beyond never returning to their homes, their families, their friends, there was proof enough here and now that he'd never walk that path again.

So they'd held each other and allowed themselves to mourn—Sora had known and cared about the people who'd fallen to darkness, as had the other two—and then they'd crawled out of their rocky nook to face the day together. It wasn't like Sora and Kairi would let Riku do it alone, after all. And so he hadn't, and beyond that one incident the three had managed to hold their own against every challenge. Every question, every stare, they faced united. Their friends, families, and the folk of the island could gossip all they wanted, but save for the occasional teasing remark, the trio shared nothing.

Which meant, of course, that Riku had to pass off his current appearance as adolescence having its way with him; the ravages of puberty leaving him tall, dark, and incredibly handsome. Not that Sora assumed he wouldn't have been handsome had nature been allowed to run its course. It just likely would have been a very different sort of beauty he embodied.

And, well, all that was a roundabout way of acknowledging that Sora couldn't blame their old friends for staring, for all the pain it caused Riku. It wasn't like he couldn't see his appeal.

Kairi's humor made things a little easier for him to bear, at least, though Sora couldn't say if her comments were having the same effect on Riku's ability to pass off his current appearance as his own.

"I mean," she'd said, to an audience of their old gang, Sora, and Riku, "he was pastier than me before, and I wasn't even born on the islands! Now, he's got a better tan than all five of us combined!"

They'd all laughed, even Riku, and his hadn't sounded fake. Still, every smile came with a wince, and even that smile fell away once the moment was over. 

It would have been more odd if she hadn't teased him though. Kairi was kind, but the three of them had often poked fun of each other before they'd left Destiny Islands. It would have been strange if she'd stopped, might have even drawn more attention to Riku's differences had she chosen not to comment on them. Sora couldn't say for sure.

"Just let me know if it's too much, Riku" she'd said, once their friends had gone home.

He'd shrugged, hand clenched into a fist. "It's fine, Kairi. It's for the best."

Neither of them had commented on the way his voice quavered. On top of everything else, condescension and pity would have only made things worse.

The moment Riku had left, however, Kairi had taken Sora's hand and said, "Keep an eye on him, okay?"

Sora had felt a pang in his chest, wondered if she thought he needed the reminder, then realized he was being silly. Kairi was just worried for Riku's wellbeing. "I will," he'd said, squeezing her hand, "but you've gotta be there for him too!"

She'd smiled, nodded, and the pang in his chest had eased.

Their peers weren't the only ones who stared at Riku though. The adults regarded him with skepticism, and were far more difficult to fool. Kairi and Sora's support went a long way in dispelling it, but the flip side of that was an increase in concern. It made more sense to assume Riku had undergone a particularly intense period of development—which wasn't exactly untrue—than to assume he literally wore the skin of another man, but if so, there was the question of what he'd been through to result in such an adolescence.

Of course, they could always accuse Sora and Kairi of lying, but that was perhaps even more of a long shot. Riku knew things only he could know, and what motivation with the two have to contact a stranger and pass him off as Riku anyway?

Unfortunately, Riku's appearance wasn't the only issue. The fact that the three of them had gone missing was another point of contention with the adult populace. Riku had explained they'd gone to 'a place far away', without specifying whether that place was another island or another world. As the old stories of folk leaving and Kairi's arrival did not confirm the presence of a wider, inhabited universe, they'd decided not to mention they had, in fact, been traversing it.

If we did tell them we'd have to explain everything, and we can't do that. Because world order, or something. Sora swore he could hear Donald's voice quacking in his head.

Riku did have an excuse on hand for why they couldn't explain things, at least. It wasn't very good, but considering the narrowed gazes they'd received during their explanation, Sora was just glad they'd had something prepared.

"We don't really remember what happened," Riku had said, and Sora had known he'd been staring at the mayor's nose rather than his eyes as he spoke. "The last thing I can recall clearly was Kairi finding our ruined raft on the sea and guiding us home. There was a bad storm just before that, so we probably hit our heads, swallowed a lot of sea water. We survived alright beforehand, obviously, but we're lucky she found us or I'm not sure we would have made it home. Turns out, rafts aren't the sturdiest vessels when it comes to crossing great bodies of water."

The joke didn't fall flat, fortunately, though Sora suspected some of the adults hadn't bought it completely. Still, after scolding them harshly, they'd been let off with nothing more than a reprimand and some compliments for surviving as long as they had, with a few more for Riku noting how handsome he'd become. 

Riku's jaw had tightened, gloved hands clenched into fists, but there'd been nothing he could do but nod and say thank you.

This whole thing was killing him.

What can I do though? Sora wondered. I don't know how to put him back in his old body, and Riku said he doesn't want to modify his current one either. "It'd be too much like claiming it as my own. I mean, you wouldn't mess with somebody else's bedroom just because it didn't suit you, right?" And I get that, I really do, but then what can we do? We haven't received word from Mickey, and there's no guarantee he'll be able to change Riku back. But he hates this. He hates the way people look at him and think this is him.

Except they weren't wrong. Ansem was a part of Riku, and Riku hated that. He hated the constant reminder of his darkness, or the worst aspects of it anyhow. He hated the part of him that had been thoughtless, cruel, hurt, and envious, the part of him that had been willing to sacrifice everything just to experience the world, achieve power, and find his place.

Experiences he'd wanted to share with his dearest friends. Power he'd wanted to protect those he loved. A place he'd wanted to have alongside a home to return to.

Ansem had not been the one to pervert Riku's dreams and desires, not entirely, but he had been what all his choices amounted too. Existing in his body had to hurt.

But I can't just pretend I can fix this. I believe Mickey will do everything he can, and so will I, but as much as I want to say it'll all be okay, I know Riku won't believe me. It won't help him, just like compliments won't help him. Who'd want to be complimented while they're stuck in a body that symbolizes everything they hate about themselves?

Sora frowning, thinking.

Maybe it's not about what he symbolizes to himself though. Maybe it's about what he symbolizes to me. Because I don't see Ansem when I look at him, I don't see the worst of darkness, and I want to share that with him. I want to give him the chance to see himself through another's eyes.

But what was it Riku's body symbolized to Sora? He didn't know.

The little fire in his chest sprung to life. It had been doing that a lot these past few weeks, flickering into existence and dancing this way and that. He felt certain it was guiding him, or revealing things hidden in the dark of his subconscious. Its light brought comprehension; a gradual understanding of what Riku meant to him.

In the blossoming fire, Sora saw him. He saw beyond the pain and complications, beyond the recent struggles with their friends, with villagers young and old, with Riku's own parents. He saw how he'd held himself together when he'd reunited with his mother and father; how he hadn't turned away when she had, how he'd held strong even as she'd shaken her head and trembled. He heard the wobble in his voice when he'd answered his father's question—

"How did you get that scar on the back of your head?"

"...I tried to do a handspring in a canoe when I was six. It didn't work out."

—and the relieved sigh when both his parents rushed over and held him in their arms.

Sora saw his sweetness during their reunion with their closest friends; the crinkle at the corners of his eyes when Selphie begged him to let her swing off his arms, the sudden smile when he realized that, for all he didn't like his body, he did like her laughter. 

"Oh, you're the best, Riku!" She'd exclaimed. "I'm so glad you're back. I'm so glad you're safe. That's the most important thing! Or did your year and a half of travelling teach you something different?"

"Nah," Riku said, setting her gently down. "I think you've got everything figured out already, Selphie."

"Super!"

Sora heard him snort, then saw his softness when he turned to Tidus, when he listened as the other boy asked, lip wobbling, if he'd really crossed the sea. He saw how Riku parsed the emotions beneath, the deeper feelings Tidus struggled with at their absence and their return. He remembered how Riku leaned down and put a hand on Tidus's shoulder, how he'd murmured yes, and how the other boy had straightened, reassured by his touch.

"So I guess you could keep sailing if you went far enough," he'd said, and cleared his throat. "How'd you do it, Riku? Aren't you afraid of anything?"

"To be honest, Tidus, I'm afraid of a lot of things," he said, and tensed, though Sora knew the hand on Tidus's shoulder would never squeeze hard enough to hurt. "As for how I did it? I guess you could say I had some help from my friends."

And then he rose, and Sora saw his strength when he caught Wakka, who nearly slipped off the pier as he came running toward them. He'd been so shocked by their return he hadn't paid any attention to his footing. Riku swept him up in his arms and then, when Wakka joked about being his damsel, swung him onto his back and smirked. "Look. Now you're the tallest again."

Wakka laughed. "I wish, man. You really grew up though, didn't ya? What were you eating out there to get so big? Is this what you wanted out life? To grow tall and strong?"

"Not quite," Riku said, shifting so Wakka was better supported by his back. "But I did figure out what I really wanted. Or remembered, I suppose you could say."

Sora's heart flared, shifted to other memories. He thought of Riku's kindness, his dedication, his loyalty, his—

His mind tripped, stumbled, inundated with too many feelings and too few words to describe them, offering only images instead.

Riku on the beach, his face serene as they watched the sunset from their tree on the islet. Riku's hair, a beautiful cascade as he tilted his head to hear the waves whisper against the shore. His eyes; warm when they visited their Secret Place, pained as his too-big form forced its way through the tunnel, and so, so bright when they fell upon their childish stone scribbles.

And Sora saw, for all the agony that had occurred in that place, by that door, how being there with him and Kairi put the spark back in his eyes. There was delight and joy, and something else, something that tied all the pieces together. It had always existed inside Riku, but here and now, in the shape of Ansem, it defined him. It was something obvious, something beyond light and darkness, something he embodied in its entirety.

Sora wasn't able to articulate what it was, although he had been able to articulate something else.

He was going to ask Riku and Kairi to be his partners.

It wasn't something he'd planned to do, but he was going to do it. It felt right to, made the little fire in his chest dance and sway, light burning bright and brighter still at the thought of the three of them together.

Perhaps it was inevitable. So much had happened between them; sorrow, anger, struggle, laughter, joy, and delight. They had experienced so much horror and wonder, been apart for too long all while longing to be closer. Was it really so odd that he should want this, when his chest grew full to bursting at the mere thought of them? 

That said, Sora didn't really know what this was. What partnership meant to him was likely something different than what it meant to others. Nonetheless, he knew it was what he wanted.

So he was going to ask them, and he'd do it as soon as he could, because what was the point in waiting when he had no idea what the world would throw at them next? For all he knew, chaos would return to the islands in a day, a week, a month, a year. There'd been enough times in his life when he couldn't articulate what he wanted—because he didn't know what he wanted to say, because he didn't know what he wanted—that he wasn't about to risk missing one of the few opportunities when he could.

Thus he did, while the world was bright and the three of them were together.

Except he didn't ask them while they were together. In fact, he decided to speak to Kairi alone first, because she was more stable than Riku right now, and he wanted to have her on his side when the time came to talk to their mutual friend.

It didn't take him long to find her, fortunately. She was milling about on small island's shore, waiting for sunset. She waved to Sora when she saw him, frowned when he said he wanted to talk, then smiled at his frantic flailing. "It's good, I promise," he said, and then, without further preamble, "I want to be with you and Riku. I want you guys to be my partners."

Kairi's face lit up, and Sora's heart did a ridiculous jig in his chest. She was practically shining, cheeks red and eyes twinkling, smile as beautiful as the roseate sky. It all made him feel a little like an idiot when he realized he needed to add, "Oh, and I was kinda hoping you'd help me talk to Riku about it."

There was a pause. Kairi's glow diminished as she chewed on her lip, eyes on the ocean. She still looked beautiful to Sora, though more importantly, she looked like herself; thoughtful, with an aura that was somehow both graceful and rough around the edges. Sora didn't think that made sense, but he doubted Kairi cared much about something as inconvenient as sense.

"I want to be with you," she said finally, and Sora's heart started up again. "I want to be with both of you. I want to be together everyday—for our sake, and for Roxas and Naminé's. So yes, I'll be your partner, Sora." She turned back to him, smiling, hair burning against an orange sea, an orange sky. "But for this to work, we need Riku to be okay. Because I'm okay. Even after everything, I'm okay. I think you're okay too. But Riku isn't, and I think you need to be the one to help him, Sora. I think you're the only one who can help him."

"Can't we do it toge—"

Kairi put a finger to his lips, shaking her head. "We could try, but I don't think it would work. Riku cares about me. He worked so hard to find my body, protected me from Ansem in Hollow Bastion, and helped me out when I got kidnapped by the Organization. He gave me a weapon when I needed one. He put his body on the line for me, yet he also trusted me to fight. But, Sora, there are things Riku didn't do for me. He did them for you, and I think the beauty of those things needs to be shown to him, because otherwise he won't see it."

"But I can?"

"Mmhm. I think you can see it."

"But I don't even know what we're talking about!"

"I think you do. Or you will, anyway." She hesitated, clasping her hands behind her back. "I'd tell you, but I think this is something you need to figure out for yourself. Both the parts of him that are beautiful, and how best to show them to him. I don't want to give my opinion and muddle your thoughts in the process."

"Huh," Sora said, tilting his head. "But you've got an idea, right? About what I should do, seeing as you obviously already know what's beautiful about him."

She looked sheepish for a moment, scratching the back of her head and making a face he hadn't seen since before they'd left the islands. It didn't linger long, replaced too soon with something engimatic as she stepped back and turned away. He knew for sure then that she had seen something he hadn't, or maybe something he had, but had not yet examined properly. She could be silly, but she was intuitive too, and observant in her way.

"Yes," she said finally. "I have. But this needs to come from you, Sora, because you're the one he—" She cut herself off, teeth catching on her lip. "Just trust me. Riku won't be ready for a relationship between the three of us until we sort this thing with his body out first. But I can't be the one to do it, and I won't join the two of you until it's done. Once it is, though, I'll be there for you. Both of you. We can figure things out as a team then, okay?"

"Okay," Sora said, mind and heart racing. He wasn't sure what to do, wasn't sure what she meant, wasn't—

And then it clicked. Sora's mind buzzed, irritation setting in at how stupid he was. How could you miss it, Sora? How could you miss it!?  It had been right in front of him the whole time; the thing that defined Riku's body, the thing that defined Riku's beauty.

But this needs to come from you, Sora, because you're the one he—sacrificed his body for.

A sacrifice made out of love.

A symbol of love.

That's what he is to me. That's what his body means to me. And that's what I need to show him, so he can see that I don't believe he's only darkness. That I don't believe he's Ansem. I need to show him that what he is, what his body is, is love.

He swallowed. Almost, he said I'm too stupid to do this right, but what actually came out was, "I know what I need to show him, Kairi. I need to show him what I see when I look at him. I need to make him feel as good as I do when I look at him. I don't know how I'm going to do that yet, but I do know that's what needs to get done."

Kairi laughed. "Well, go get it sorted then! After all, I'm not going to get my moment with Riku until the two of you are done with yours."

"Wait, you guys are going to have a moment?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you and I are having one now, and then you're going to go off and have one with Riku. I feel it's only fair that he and I get to pair up too, before the three of us get together. But you two need to go do your thing first. You two...without me."

There was a flash there, like a fish in the depths of blue, blue seas. Sora caught it, just as a beam of sunlight caught in her hair; vivid, ephemeral, and somehow very sad. It might have been pretty to some—the sunset, the look in her eyes—but Sora couldn't stand it. He reached out and took her hands in his own.

"Kairi," he said, "we're going to make so many memories together. With Riku, with each other, with Roxas and Naminé and all our friends. I want the three of us to travel through the stars. I want to take you to all the worlds I've visited so you can meet all the people I love there and make memories with them too." He smiled. "Sometimes we'll be apart, but I want us to be together more often, and no matter what, we're always in each others' hearts, right?"

"Yeah," Kairi whispered. "Wherever you go, I'm always with you."

"Mmhm. And for now, I'm just really happy to be back home with you, Riku, and our friends and families. I'm happy that when we're together Roxas and Naminé get to be too, although I wish things were different for them. Maybe they will be one day." He felt a throb in his chest; hope and pain in equal measure. I'm sorry I can't help you yet, Roxas. I'm sorry I've been so useless. I'll do what I can for you, but I have to do this first.

"Sora?" Kairi's voice snapped him out of it.

"Sorry! Spaced out for a second there." He smiled, tried to ignore the knowing look she sent him. Of course she'd understand.

"It's okay," Kairi said, then added, with a hint of her usual playfulness, "but you were saying?"

"I was saying," Sora said, "that sometimes there's just going to be two of us. Sometimes we'll be by ourselves, whether that means we're alone or with people we care about, and other times all three of us will be surrounded by our friends. But no matter what, I'll be there for you. No matter what, we'll always be in each others' hearts. No matter what, we'll find each other. We'll be together, and if I can help it, I won't leave you behind again. So trust me, okay? I-I know I've let you both down before, but once we sort everything out with Riku, the three of us are gonna have a blast!"

Kairi smiled, and the sliver of silver in her eyes faded, sunset washing over her hair.

"Okay," she said, and let him hold her hands a second longer—soft, sweet, calloused, and warm—before tugging them loose. Then, without warning, she pinched his cheeks.

"Yowch!" Sora exclaimed.

"But you have to let me have a moment alone with Riku first, remember?" she sung, high and bright.

"Egh, Kairi! What are you—" He flailed and pulled away, scowling as she laughed at him.

Still, he liked the twinkle in her eyes when she straightened and said, "Go talk to him. And Sora?"

"Yeah?" He cocked his head.

"You've never let me down."

"Huh?"

"You've never let me down and you're not useless. You're just not, okay?" She clasped her hands behind her back again, grinning. "But I'm gonna dump this one on Riku since I think, all things considered, this sort of encouragement would be more meaningful coming from him. Now"—she bent forward sharply, peering up into his bewildered eyes—"you two go figure things out!"

"Wait, Kairi, I—"

She didn't wait, instead shooing him with a flap of her hands and a skip in her step. "Remember, wherever you go, I'm always with you, so don't stress out. Now off with you! The sooner you get this done, the sooner we can all be lazy bums down on the beach together!"

Sora huffed, pouted, then finally broke down into laughter as she chased him across the sand. He wasn't quite sure where she'd picked up all that stuff about him feeling useless, but he wasn't going to question it. Sometimes Kairi just knew things, and that was that.

He charged off, accepting a single push from Kairi to boost him on his way. His feet carried him to the cove, where he knew Riku was hiding. Sure enough, Sora found him standing on the shore, looking out over the empty sea. The sinking sunlight illumined him, lending a golden hue to his features. Sora paused, breath caught in his throat, then rushed over and took Riku's head in his hands.

"Sora?" Riku exclaimed, confused and bent awkwardly to accommodate him.

"Riku," he said, "I want you and Kairi to be my partners."

If Kairi had remained calm throughout his confession, Riku did just the opposite. His face erupted like a volcano, blush turning his cheeks a deep, dark rose. Maybe it was because he was so much bigger than he had been, but heat radiated off him, skin nearly too hot to touch. Sora didn't let go though, stroking his cheeks until Riku shivered and stepped back.

Sora wished he hadn't, wished this whole thing was as simple as leaning forward and kissing him. Yet despite the fact he knew Riku cared for both him and Kairi, they spent the next ten minutes arguing. Riku had to protest against including him in their relationship, which meant Sora had to convince him that everything was okay, that Sora and Kairi wanted him, and that it was fine for Riku to want them too.

Unfortunately, Riku had always challenged him. They were best friends and rivals, after all. That, combined with an increased affinity for brooding, meant that Sora had to pester and reassure him for an additional five minutes, and then five more on top of that. When it became obvious Riku wasn't going to budge, however, Sora gave up on arguing and went straight for the kill.

"Didn't I tell you not to do so much alone?" he scowled. "That's one of the reasons you're doing this, isn't it? You're distancing yourself, trying to deal with things on your own. You're giving up your place in this relationship because you've got problems you'd feel guilty about sharing, and you'd rather run away than let us help you. Well, we don't want that, Riku!"

"S-Sora," Riku said, but Sora wasn't finished, not by a longshot.

"I know we've got problems we need to solve for ourselves. I know we've all been through a lot. I know you need time to think, I really do. But there are things we could work out together, Riku. I want to work them out together, and honestly, I think you do too. But I—I can't make you do anything. I can only ask you to give us a chance."

"I..." Riku, who never quite made eye contact anyway, turned to look over the sea. His eyes reflected the sunset; frail and fading, vivid colors washed away by the oncoming tides of night. There was no sign of inspiring dawn to be seen, just a delicate dusk struggling, still so afraid of the encroaching shadows.

Riku might have embraced his own darkness, but embracing Ansem? That was harder.

Still, Sora thought Riku might be able to come to terms with the man's body. He thought this, and as he did, the ocean came to mind; the aqua sea of day, the amber sea of sunset, each equally dark in their depths. Yet both glittered, as did the black sea of night, adorned as it was with stars. The water embraced all the light and dark in the world and scattered it upon its waves.

The same sea, always, full of life and love; tides gently kissing the sweet, sheltering shore.

"Sora?" Riku asked, seeming perturbed by his silence. Sora sighed. He wished Riku had taken the chance to elaborate on his own thoughts, but as he hadn't, it was up to him to pick up where he'd left off.

"I know I'm being pushy," he said, "but I don't want you to suffer alone. The two of us can figure things out together, and then—"

"Wait, what?" Riku turned back to him, brows furrowed in confusion. It looked a little funny; his expression on Ansem's face. "Why just the two of us? What about Kairi?"

"Oh! She said we needed to work through some stuff before she got involved. She did want some time alone with you once we sorted things out though, since I kind of already had my moment with her when I confessed."

"I see," Riku said, tense.

His tone made Sora hesitate, but not for long. "I've already got an idea of what we need to do, so don't worry about that. I mean, I've still gotta figure out the details, but once I do, I'll tell you and then we can..." He trailed off, taking note of Riku's clenched fist, his tight jaw. "Is that okay with you, Riku?"

"It's..." Riku swallowed, inhaled deeply, then sighed, releasing all the built-up tension in his body. A cloud continued to hang over him, however, shadows lingering in his eyes. "It's fine, Sora, but...are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you want to be with both of us, and not just Kairi?"

"Huh? Yeah, of course I'm sure! Why would I ask if I wasn't?"

"Well, the three of us have been together all our lives. Maybe it just felt natural to include me, even if it wasn't what you really wanted. People sometimes do things out of habit. Then there's the fact you're too kind. Are you sure you're including me because you want me, and not because you're worried about hurting me?" His eyes darted away. "Maybe it's that you want me to come to you when I'm struggling, and you feel a change in our relationship would help. Maybe it's that you're scared I'll succumb to the darkness if you leave me alone. Maybe it's just...pity."

Riku stopped and Sora stared, gaping like a fish. "Are you serious?"

"Yes?" Riku flushed. "I mean, it's obvious you love Kairi and me differently, and with all that's happened I thought—"

"Riku!" Sora exclaimed. "Of course I love you both differently. I love all my friends differently! You, Kairi, Donald, Goofy, King Mickey, everyone. There's a different love in my heart for each of you, but that doesn't mean anything. I mean, I like adventuring with Donald and Goofy. Just because I did something with one of them, doesn't mean I don't enjoy doing it with the other. I liked being with both of them, as I'd like to be with both you and Kairi." Sora huffed. "And what's all this about pity and habit? Riku, I want to be in a relationship with you. That's it! I'm willing to put up with a lot for my friends, but if I didn't want this from the both of you, I wouldn't have asked for it."

Riku remained silent through his speech, head bowed. Sora gave himself a moment to calm down, then followed his gaze. He took in the sight of Riku's hands; their color, their size, their shape. They bore the marks of a different life, the cuts and scrapes of their shared childhood absent. Gone were the splinters from constant sword practice, gone were the scars from one too many falls on the beach. There was no evidence of time spent swimming, racing, and climbing trees. No proof of hours given over to rowing boats, drawing on rocks, and wrestling in the sand.

Instead, his hands bore picked nails and crescent moons in his palm, dried blood speckled about his cuticles. They bore the marks of anger and frustration, of self-hatred and shame. Somehow, those made the callouses from his Keyblade more tolerable, his protection of those he loved and the violence he enacted both preferable to his suffering.

But nothing was the same, preferable or not. A piece of Riku's past—of their past—had been lost with his old body. The hands he had now would never be the same as the hands he'd once had. The life he'd once had.

The life he'd surrendered so he might leave Destiny Islands.

No, that's not it, Sora thought. This time, it's the life he surrendered for me.

With great care, he reached out and took Riku's hands in his own. They were so much bigger than his, so much stronger and harder. Yet to Sora they seemed like baby birds; trembling, frightened, and fragile, already so scarred by the world.

"Riku," he said, "I want to be with you. Your body doesn't bother me. It doesn't scare me, it doesn't disgust me, and it doesn't make me love you any less. I don't pity you, and you are far more than a habit I'm trying to keep." He ran his fingers over Riku's palm, felt skin both rough and smooth, and smiled. "It's nice when you don't wear gloves."

"Is it?" Riku murmured.

"Yep. I like your hands."

Riku snorted. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," Sora said, before letting him go. "I'm being serious though. I've always loved your hands. They're the ones that taught me how to fight, how to row a boat, how to catch a fish. They've always been there for me, reaching for me. Whether I was trying to get into a canoe or to the top of a tree, they were there, supporting me." He looked up at Riku and smiled. "I don't think that's changed, even now."

Riku ducked his head to the side. "Sora..."

"Hm?"

"You're being a sap again."

"Heh, good! Consider it payback for the time you convinced me to mix tree sap with seawater and drink it." Riku laughed and Sora joined in, the flame in his chest dancing. It took them a minute to calm down, and when they did, Sora knew what he wanted to say next. "Hey, Riku?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll show you."

"Show me what?"

I'll show you how good you can feel in this body. I'll show you how worthy you are of love. I'll show you what I see when I look at you. I'll show you that you are love to me.

The words circled in his head, but the ones he said were:

"I'll show you how much I love you. I'll prove it."

"You don't have to prove anything, Sora," Riku said.

Sora's heart disagreed. It begged him not to fail Riku again, to not leave him in darkness, to not miss this time when he reached for his hand. His heart begged and pleaded, yet all he said was, "I know, but I'm going to anyway."

 

---

 

Three weeks turned into a month, and Sora finally figured out what he wanted to do.

It hadn't come to him easily. To an outsider, it probably looked like he'd been slacking off—lounging in hammocks and dozing on the sand—but the truth was he'd been thinking really hard. Kairi must have noticed though, because she'd only called him a lazy bum once, and she'd kissed his forehead right after.

"It's for luck," she'd whispered, eyes shimmering in the dawn's pale light.

"Are you sure?" he'd asked, flushed. "Because it kinda feels like you just dumped a bunch of butterflies in my stomach."

"I was more hoping it'd keep the fish in your brain swimming, but if it's butterflies I give you, then I'm happy. After all, what's luckier than a butterfly?"

Sora hadn't known, although he'd thought it was appropriate regardless of its luck. Butterflies; a symbol of transformation, of struggle and survival, of new beginnings.

After that incident, Kairi had made herself scarce. They'd had a brief conversation about the openness of their relationship—Sora hadn't even realized that wasn't the norm, although he should have considering it had been so all his life—and if he was bothered by her getting handsy in public, but that was it, really.

So Sora had spent most of his time alone, thinking. He'd hung out on the play island, because that seemed the best place to reconcile his past with his present, and perhaps come to a conclusion on how best to help Riku do the same. That seemed a necessary component of showing Riku what he wanted to show him. We can love what we were and who we are, and look forward to who we might be. I know you can do that. After all, if you'd feared change more than you'd loved me, and the future you'd wanted me to have, then I wouldn't be here now.

But he was here now, and had spent over a week pondering that fact, among other things.

Like the fact that Destiny Islands felt different. It hadn't changed, of course, but Sora had, and everything about his home made him deeply nostalgic. It was still bright and full of life, still warm and sweet and simple. The gentle susurrus of waves, the splash of waterfalls, and the warbling cries of gulls were all reminders of a boy who didn't exist anymore, the creak of the boardwalks, the pier, the shack all haunting him like ghosts. The wind blew through Sora, a sound he'd heard ten thousand times that only now bent his soul out of shape, twisting it as the palm trees, heart bobbing like the paopu where it hung over the sea.

Strangest was the sky. The pale of dawn, the blue of day, the rose of dusk; it all remained the same. Yet there was a lump in Sora's throat every time he watched the clouds go by, sailing far above wooden landings and long expanses of sand. It was more than nostalgia, more than the knowledge that there were countless worlds glittering in the night sky. Neither youth nor experience could explain how he felt, and Sora didn't really try to put his emotions into words. Sometimes, you just have to accept things for what they are.

Of course, if his childhood home and playground had remained unmarred—save for the occasional storm—the people who lived there were another story.

Marred wasn't the right word to describe them though. They held no memories of their suffering, if they'd suffered at all. They'd simply grown up, personalities similar but perspectives maturing. Their interests had certainly changed. Tidus and Wakka fought much less, the clatter of their old training swords replaced with the thwack of Wakka's blitzball. The smack of its surface against sand, surf, and skin resounded across the beach whenever they were around, often accompanied by a curse or exclamation. They were absent often too, busy with their team mates and concerned about their sporting futures, although they always made time to hang out with old friends.

Sora played with them sometimes, but not often. He'd missed them both, and he recognized they probably wouldn't have made the effort to row all the way out to the small island if Sora and his friends didn't spend most of their time there, but things weren't the same. Tidus and Wakka had a whole year and a half of school experiences he did not, and they knew nothing of Sora's journey through the stars. They talked about crushes and futures in a way that shouldn't have been foreign to him, but was.

He also couldn't prioritize them. A guilty feeling stirred in his stomach when he thought of it like that, but it was true. After all, how could he spend all his time playing ball games when he was worried about Riku?

So while Tidus and Wakka played, their shouts mingling with the island's ambience, and Kairi and Selphie snuck off together, which explained why she'd inquired about open relationships earlier, Sora remained alone. He lounged in his hammock and on the sand, and thought. He was happy to be near them all, happy to know they were well, to hear them talk and laugh, and to reflect on the past and future in their presence, but...

He had to focus on Riku, because Riku was struggling.

Sora's request to be partners had cheered him up a little, but that didn't mean much. He wasn't thriving. He wasn't happy. They'd kept him from holing up in his bedroom or camping out in a cave, but that was it. He existed as a ghost, unable to take part in island life. He was too many feet tall, too many hands wide, eyes too full of liquid sunset. His back curled as if trapped beneath the weight of the Guardian; another reminder of the shadows that lingered within his heart. At times, he looked like he wanted to summon it, curl up, and let it wrap itself around him, consuming him until they dripped together into a puddle of darkness and sunk into the island itself.

He did not. Instead, he walked up and down the beach, avoiding Tidus and Wakka as he did so. He never asked to join their games or spar, only waving when they called out to him. He did not talk to them. In fact, after the handful of conversations he'd had upon returning Riku had gone near mute, speaking almost exclusively to Sora and Kairi, and sparingly to anyone else.

Sora understood why, but it still made him sad. Given time, he was sure the others would hear Riku's real voice. Any who opened their heart to him could. Then again, perhaps that was why he didn't want to. When the adults had pointed out how strange he sounded, Riku had clenched his fist. They couldn't hear the real him, and that hurt. But then, does he really want people to associate the 'real' him with this body? What do you want, Riku?

Sora had his suspicions. He thought Riku did want people to see the real him, but for the right reasons. He didn't want them to think this was the result of puberty. He wanted them to understand the truth behind his appearance; that he looked this way because of magic and darkness, because of the mistakes he'd made.

He also suspected Riku wanted to know what Sora thought of his body; the light, the love, the sacrifices. But how do I show him that? Sora wondered.

He'd put together all the things that mattered. Sora wanted Riku to experience something good in this body, so that was one thing. He wanted him to embrace what had changed, whether it was permanent or not, so that was another. He wanted to show Riku what his body meant to him, and he wanted to prove he loved him. He wanted to have a positive experience himself—selfish, Sora—and he wanted Riku to enjoy it too.

The latter made him consider some sort of physical intimacy; hugs, maybe? Riku was shy around everyone, but he'd made an effort to sit with Sora regularly, even as he avoided everyone else. Well, everyone else except Kairi, though she seemed to be avoiding him. Sora knew she was just trying to give them space, which he appreciated. He'd needed it to think about what Riku wanted.

At first, Sora had been unsure. It had taken a few visits from his friend before he'd realized that Riku was approaching him because he needed to. He was lonely, but also anxious, unused to company. The times he sat with Sora were when he was at his most confident, his most courageous, when he was willing to admit he wanted to be near those he loved regardless of his self-consciousness. Even then, he crossed his arms and curled inward and seemed so unlike the boy Sora had known.

Not that he seems much like Ansem either. 

Riku hadn't changed though, not really. While he'd both messed up and grown up, deep down, he was still the same. The way he expressed himself, the actions he took, the language of his body and heart had matured, but Riku himself? The thoughts that fueled him, the dreams he had, the things he treasured most? Sora didn't think those had changed. The good and the bad Riku had done all came from that core; the balance of darkness and dawn shifting, but the desires always the same. His every dream had been born sweet, turned sour and darkly bitter, then evolved into something different; a more varied flavor, rich with experience and understanding he hadn't had before.

And the way he's acting now? It's just another part of him. He's sad and hurting, but he's not different. The same dreams and desires, the same memories, the same soul and heart still exist inside him. These new pieces are just another part of that of whole.

Another part of him to learn and to love.

Those thoughts stayed with him; who Riku was, what Riku wanted, and that need to be close, physically and emotionally. They were with him when the warm, afternoon air made him sleepy, balmy dreams, hot and heady, joining them as he slumbered. They were with him when he woke to voices, lingered as he watched his friends tussle and play. They floated through his mind when dawn and dusk painted the world, and when the night scattered its stars across the sea and sky. They were there, woven into the fabric of his changed-unchanged world.

What would help Riku? What would prove to him that I loved him, no matter what? That though I want him to have the body he desires, the one he has now doesn't change how I feel about him? How do you prove that your love and desire are more than just skin deep? And more than that, how do I prove to him what he means to me—what this body means to me? How do I show him that I see the love embedded in every inch of it in a way we'll both enjoy? How do I get him to embrace the way things have changed, and what good exists in those changes and in him?

He sighed.

You have to do something, Sora, because Riku did this for you. Do you really want to let him down? Do you?

He didn't, so he thought and pondered until, finally, he found his answer.

It came to him while watching the girls. Kairi and Selphie had always been close, but things had changed during Sora's year of slumber. They'd got to know each other in new ways—intimate ones, that emphasized physical affection. They'd become partners, Sora realized, and this was how they liked to express that fact.

The discovery hadn't made Sora jealous. If he were honest, the idea of exclusively was strange to him. His understanding of relationships had never been the same as everyone else's. He'd certainly been shy about girls in that context, though he supposed if people had put forth the idea regarding boys or anyone else he would have been just as flustered. He liked to be physically intimate with others, although he was sometimes embarrassed to be on the receiving end of such intimacy—his brain had short-circuited on multiple occasions due to an unexpected embrace—and he certainly considered himself dedicated to those he cared about.

But despite all those ordinary emotions, Sora loved a lot of people, and he disliked the idea of limiting his ability to connect with them because of a change in one relationship. Sora's heart reached out on instinct and on purpose, and he didn't consider that a particularly unique trait either. It was just other people seemed ignorant, sometimes, of the fact they could be tied to many people, in many ways. Sora had no desire to demand his friends cut ties or change their expressions of affection for his sake, and he hoped they never asked that of him.

In some ways, his desire was selfish. It eased the pressure on him to try and be Kairi and Riku's 'everything'. Sora wasn't even sure what partnership meant to him, whether it was romantic or sexual, and whether the words 'romantic' and 'sexual' meant the same things to others as they did to him, so the idea of trying to be all those things to someone—even two someones—was a little much. This way, though, everyone was free to share themselves as they thought best. Sora's, I want to be with you, and tie my heart to yours, always, was good enough, and if Kairi and Riku needed something else from someone else, they wouldn't have to dump him to get it.

All that meant though, was that Sora knew feelings were both simple, and also a weird, complex web, caught between hearts, fingers, and lips like sticky strings of paopu juice. He knew that, and had no real issue with it. He was happy that, regardless of whether they were partners, friends, or both, Selphie and Kairi were able to share their affections, comfort each other, and feel good together. He wanted that for himself, and for everyone he'd known.

He hadn't really expected them to get so handsy with each other while he was around though.

They weren't particularly touchy-feely when Tidus, Wakka, and Riku were nearby. Sure, they held hands and shared the occasional kiss, but that was it. It was when Sora, and only Sora, was around that they got properly frisky. When he was in the vicinity, anything went, apparently. He remembered the way he'd flushed that first time he caught Selphie groping Kairi's chest, the two giggling and talking on the beach. More than that though, he remembered balmy afternoon dreams, thoughts of bodies touching and affections shared.

"It's not too much?" Kairi had asked, after that first time. "Seeing us together, I mean?"

"It's not too much, really," he'd replied, even if he hadn't been able to look her in the eye. "I've caught people doing things in public places before, Kairi. It's a thing you see sometimes, traveling the worlds." He'd scratched the back of his head. "I mean, it made me feel a bit embarrassed and a bit...y'know...but I think that's something I want to get past. The embarrassment, anyway. I don't want to feel like that whenever I see people touch each other or when I touch someone myself."

Kairi narrowed her eyes, smirking dangerously. "But what if Selphie and I went all the way...?"

Sora cleared his throat. "I'd be fine with that. Just do what feels right to you, Kairi."

At the time, Sora hadn't caught the gleam in her eyes, but now he suspected she'd picked up on thoughts he himself hadn't realized he was having. The embers in his mind sparked with each heated exchange between the girls, the light glowing brighter the longer he looked. The promise of discovery, especially for Riku's sake, bade him swallow his embarrassment and engage his curiosity, and for Kairi's part, she took his increased interest as a sign and abandoned all discretion.

So he'd be lounging in his hammock and there they'd be, Kairi tilting her sunhat to the side so Sora could watch as she kissed Selphie. Lips pressed and tongues locked, hands caressing necks and sweaty backs. Then there were the times when Selphie had Kairi backed up against her chest, her fingers reaching round to squeeze her breasts. Kairi gasped when she did that, cheeks the same color as her hair, breath coming in pants. It didn't take long for her dress to end up rucked around her waist, Kairi pleading wordlessly as Selphie's hands slipped between her thighs.

Sora usually looked away once she started whimpering. The sounds were enough.

Neither girl had a steady role, he noticed. More than once, as the sun set on the horizon, he caught Kairi with Selphie pinned under her. Her grin was feral as she leaned in and nipped Selphie's ear, Selphie squeaking as Kairi's fingers disappeared beneath the waistband of her skirt—probably more than her skirt, when he thought about it. He'd watch as Selphie writhed and gasped, then avert his gaze, ears red, able to tell when they weren't kissing because he could hear their moans loud and clear.

It was a little much. Their shamelessness had mostly cured Sora of his modesty though, and taught him more about their bodies than he'd ever expected to learn. They had also, fortunately, managed to help him with his chief concern: Riku.

Something about the way they touched inspired him, guided him, their fires joining the one in his chest and building upon its flames. It helped to see the affection in their smiles as they embraced, to hear their playful comments, to watch as they enjoyed each other, showing their gratitude for the opportunity to through intimacy. That physical closeness, that emotional satisfaction...

It made him wonder.

It made him want.

It made him think about bodies and expressing one's self through them, about pleasure and learning every nook and cranny, each line and wrinkle, every inch of muscle, fat, skin, and bone. He thought of Selphie running her fingers through Kairi's hair and Kairi pausing to look in her eyes.

And then he understood.

Three weeks turned into a month, and Sora finally knew what he wanted to do.

He spent the day by himself, parting ways with Kairi, Selphie, Tidus, and Wakka as they headed over to the cove side of the small island. In their absence, Riku emerged to walk along the shore, and Sora watched him. He watched his white hair catch in the wind, tangle with the sunset. He took in his movements; body Ansem's, but expressions all Riku. It was the old him and the new, the mingled surety of muscle memory, confidence and skill, with the careful stride of someone hurt and humbled, but also matured. Someone who had learned from their experiences.

There was a longing in his eyes Ansem had never possessed; something tender, tinged in dusk. The early evening dyed him in hues of gold and rose, colors covering him as waves covered the shore. He'd rolled the sleeves of his coat up to his elbows, tucked the ends of it into a belt he'd worn for just that purpose. His shoes had been abandoned, feet bare so he could feel the sand beneath them. His skin was bared to the light, kissed by the sunset, and likely warm to the touch.

Sora stared. He looked mellow and lovely, and undeniably like Riku. Maybe not all of him, but most of him, and when he turned back—if he turned back—into his old self, all the parts that mattered to Sora would still be there, because they were still here now.

This is the boy who sacrificed everything for me. This is his heart. This is his will. And this is the body he wears for me.

Sora knew then he wanted nothing more than to show Riku what that meant to him. He wanted nothing more than to show him with his entirety; his heart, his body, his soul.

And he knew just how he was going to do it.

Maybe someone else would have come up with a different answer, but that didn't matter because this was his. Sora took off down the beach and caught Riku's arm, asked him to cross to the mainland shore, unoccupied as it was now that the townspeople and fisherfolk were docked and done for the day. Their friends were still hanging out on the small island, after all, and Sora didn't want to be overheard.

This is between us. Just us.

So they rowed their boats back to the mainland, tying them at the dock before Sora took Riku's hand. He guided him onto the sand, squeezing their clammy palms together. The world was truly roseate in that moment, stained the color of brightest, sweetest summer. Riku's face was limned by the light, expression concerned. Sora wasn't worried though. Bubbles rose in his stomach and flames danced in his chest, and he knew.

I'm going to wipe that look off your face, Riku. That look, and all the other ones; the anxious, the fearful, the guilty, the sad. I'm going to prove to you how wonderful you are.

"Come here," he whispered, and rose up on his tiptoes. Riku's cheeks burned, but he bent down and oh. His hair reflected the sunset like the sea; a lovely pink-gold cascade that shimmered faintly. It was comforting too, to think that for all Ansem and Riku were different, their hair looked much the same.

But it wasn't, and it might never be again.

All for me. He did it all for me.

He pressed his lips to Riku's ear and whispered what he wanted to do with him. Then he laughed when Riku jerked back and gasped, flustered, stammering, face burning, eyes wide.

Sora waited, and smiled, and waited, and eventually Riku calmed. Then he looked Sora in the eye for the first time in a long time, even if it was from behind a veil of hair, and whispered, "Okay."

 

---

 

They met at the Secret Place.

The summer air clung to their skin, hot and humid, vines caressing their shoulders as they ducked inside. Beyond the entrance was stone, dim light, and darkness. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the passage, chests heaving as they breathed. The thrum of water drowned all other sounds. Anticipation built like condensation on the cave's ceiling; stretched out and ready to drop.

They crawled through the narrowest part of the tunnel, Riku squeezing by on his hands and knees. Sora was just glad they'd visited once when they'd first returned. It had been good for their spirits to trace their old drawings and talk, backs against the wall on either side of the door to the heart of the world, but it also meant they knew they could still fit too.

Once they reached the central chamber they stretched, then took in their surroundings. All was the same as it had always been, save the nest in the center of the room. Blankets and pillows were cast about the stone floor, softening it, adding a splash of color to the cave. Sora had prepared them before Riku's arrival, alongside a handful of other necessities.

Everything was ready. Everything, except Riku.

He stopped and stared, shaking. His cheeks had been flushed since they'd arrived, eyes unable to meet Sora's. His mouth pursed, then parted.

"Are you sure you want to—"

Sora placed a finger against his lips, knowing exactly what he intended to say. He wrapped his free hand around Riku's, smiling up at him. "I'm sure, Riku. I want to do this. I want to show you how much you mean to me, and I want to do it this way."

Riku swallowed, but he did not step back.

They started slow. Riku trembled and Sora soothed him, brushing the hair out of his face and leading him to the center of their nest to sit. His touches were slight, small, just fingers caressing cheeks and jaws. He held his hair back for a moment, looking him in the eyes. "I can see you in there," Sora said, voice a little shaky. He wasn't sure why.

"Hm?" Riku forced his eyes to met his.

"Your eyes. I can see you in them. They're different now, but I can still see you there." Sora leaned up and pressed a kiss to each lid, felt the flutter of Riku's lashes against his chin. "I suppose that makes sense. The ocean during the day and the ocean at sunset are the same ocean, after all."

Riku's breath caught. "Sora..."

The flame in Sora's chest burned brightly, drawn to the choked rasp of his voice.

"They're nothing like Ansem's," he said, smiling. "Not in the slightest."

Riku made a noise, but said no words. His eyes shimmered like the sun glistening upon the sea.

Sora took his time undressing him, pausing to kiss every sliver of skin as it was revealed. Riku shifted, fidgeted beneath his touch, sometimes darting away, sometimes pushing forward. He nearly yanked his hands out of Sora's grasp when he drew them to his lips, but he didn't, and Sora said nothing as he took in the ways his nails had left crescent moon scars in the flesh of his palm, then kissed them too. He did not comment on the damage done to his nails; the scabby spots, the splintered ends, the hanging nubs of skin. He knew that Riku wasn't comfortable in this body—in this life. He wasn't thrilled by what he found, but he wasn't surprised either. He'd seen it before.

And right now, he didn't want to lecture him. He wanted to love him. We can talk about it later, if we have to.

Sora's lips ran over Riku's wrists, his arms, his shoulders. He kissed his neck, his chest, his stomach, his ankles, his legs. Despite his shyness, Riku seemed eager to give back, occasionally muttering a half-question, half-groan, but Sora only shook his head. He needed to be in control for the moment—full control. Riku could reciprocate when the time was right, although Sora suspected he'd keep control for the entirety of their encounter.

He kissed every part of him once, even his cock and the cheeks of his ass—both stiffening at his touch—then settled Riku down against the blankets. His coat and all his clothes had been discarded. He was completely and utterly bare.

And he was beautiful, with his hair splayed over the pillows, teeth in his lips, blush on his cheeks. He was so, so beautiful.

"I don't get it," Riku whispered. "I believe you want to do this, Sora, but I don't get it."

"I'm not trying to make you love this body," Sora said, trying to explain what couldn't be. "But I wanted to do something fun with it, something intimate, something that feels good. And I wanted to say thanks."

"Thanks?"

"For saving me. For sacrificing your body for me." Riku opened his mouth to say something, but Sora spoke faster. "That's what you did, Riku. You sacrificed your body for me. You took on this shape for me and I need you to know that while to you it might symbolize darkness and shame and bad choices and failures, to me it's...it's life. It's..."

He didn't say the word, but Riku's eyes widened and he knew, as surely as the sea knew how to get back to the shore. Sora's chin wobbled, but he didn't want to cry so he leaned forward instead, pressing his lips to Riku's. He coaxed them apart with gentle strokes of his tongue, pushing inside when Riku opened up to him. He could feel Riku pushing back, lips firm, tongue rubbing against his own. It all made Sora hot, pleasure creeping down his spine to spill in his stomach, his cock growing hard where it pressed against Riku.

"Agh, I should've taken these off before," he complained, hands shaking too much to remove his pants. "But it was your moment, y'know?"

Riku shook his head, but even though he pushed Sora's hands aside, his own attempts to take his pants off were just as fumbling. He did manage to eventually, although all Sora could think about was how his super competent best friend was shaking and flustered, clumsy as can be. His cheeks were as dark as Sora had ever seen them when he finally got all the straps and buttons undone, and yet they somehow got darker when he tried to kiss the blush away.

Then they were naked, bodies sliding against each other's, Sora straddling Riku. He rolled hips; a little fast, a little reckless. Riku is so careful with him—so aware of his body, so aware of his strength, so guilty, so ashamed—that Sora has to push. Never too much though. He'd never be too rough, unless Riku wanted him to be.

They ground against one another; slow, hot, and sweet, cocks pressed together. He was so small compared to Riku, yet still he doubted Riku could handle anything more than what he gave him in that moment. Riku was fragile, naked, vulnerable, and Sora was burning, fire in his chest spreading like light through his body, all the passion, all the affection he felt for the boy beneath him surging beneath his skin. Despite their size difference, Riku was the delicate one, while Sora knew he could withstand gales and maelstroms, his fire resisting all.

The sounds they made together were so pretty. When Sora pinched Riku's chest, he whimpered, breath hitching and muscles trembling. "Cute," Sora said, more to himself than anything, and received a rapidly bouncing chest in response; Riku trying desperately to muffle ticklish laughter, pleasure, and embarrassment before it could fully reveal itself.

Sora grinned. He leaned down to kiss Riku's throat, nuzzling against his collarbone as he reached out to the bits and bobs he'd placed next to their pillow. One uncapped bottle of oil later—Riku too distracted to notice what he was doing—Sora slipped a hand between them and wrapped it around their cocks. They both moaned, Riku thrusting upward and Sora using his weight to keep him down.

"Trust me," Sora said.

"I do," Riku murmured.

"Good. I know what I want."

"And what do you want, Sora?" he asked.

Sora peered down at him—saw Riku's vulnerability, Riku's expression shifting Ansem's features into something beautiful and unrecognizable—and smiled. "I want everything."

"Take it then," Riku said, voice shaking as he added, "I want to give it to you. This body is as much yours as it is mine."

The, I took this form to save you, went unspoken, but Sora heard it all the same.

"Then I'll take it," he said, kissing him, tightening his grip around their cocks. "Take care of it, I mean."

Riku rolled his eyes.

Sora did intend to take care of things though. He had a plan he was going to follow through on. Me first, Riku second. It wasn't an order of needs, so much as an order of events that best expressed what Sora wanted them to.

He needs to be fully aware at first, so he can feel how tender he is with me even in this body made of darkness. He needs to feel how much I want him, and relax. Then I can open him up and show him just how warm he is inside, show him how good he can feel, even now. And all the while I'll be saying thank you. All the while I'll be saying I love you.

Of course, Riku would panic a little no matter what he did, but so long as Sora followed his plan things would be okay.

He rummaged around for the oil again, released their cocks and attempted to pour it into his palm. He tipped it onto Riku instead. That was fine. This part was flexible, and he was happy to start things off by running his hands over Riku's body. He shuddered under him, stomach flinching, breath catching in his throat. His eyes grew darker, gaze more shallow, cheeks burning brightly. Sora could feel how hard his cock strained, throbbing against the cleft of Sora's ass as he ran his fingers over Riku's chest.

He massaged both sides, squeezing the thick flesh of his pectorals together. He pinched his nipples, had to resist a whine when Riku's head fell back, a silent moan caught on his tongue. The whine slipped out when Riku covered his hands in oil and reached out to give Sora the same treatment, tweaking and groping. There was a competitive gleam in his eyes, one Sora returned before he fell upon him, squirming, oil smearing all over their skin as they wrestled. It reminded Sora of childhood games where everything had been easier and nobody had hurt.

In no time at all they were glistening; arms and shoulders, neck and chest, stomach and hands. Even their backs were slick, and Sora was so, so glad he didn't care if these sheets got dirty. But I'd better wash them myself. Don't want mom complaining...or seeing them, to be honest.

It was a boyish thought for a boyish moment.

But it ended, time moving forward as they rutted slowly against each other. Sora whimpered and Riku groaned, their voices filling the Secret Place; childhood memories looking down as the two boys ground their hips together. Sora pressed hard enough to trap Riku under him, brought a hand to his cheek as he kissed his neck. It was for pleasure, comfort, but also distraction, as Sora reached back and slipped two fingers inside his own ass. He couldn't quite suppress a shiver. He hoped Riku didn't notice.

He did, going perfectly still when he realized what Sora had just done. His eyes went so wide Sora wanted to laugh, but he didn't. He'd done this to himself a few times, but he knew Riku hadn't, and he didn't want him to freak out now he was faced with the reality of what they were about to do.

As if he couldn't figure that out from the fact we're covered in oil and grinding. 

For all his sarcastic thoughts, however, his feelings were a lot more complicated. His cheeks burned as Riku's eyes bore into him, staring up at Sora as he fingered himself. Maybe he should have stopped, but he couldn't, not when he had plans and Riku was so big and beautiful and there. He wanted Riku to see him like this, to see how much he wanted him, wanted to appreciate the body Riku wore, wanted to give him the pleasure Sora felt when he looked upon the one who had saved him. Riku's stare was embarrassing, sure, but he liked it.

Judging by the way his cock twitched, Sora was pretty sure Riku liked it too.

It was both of their first times though—at least when it came to sex—so Sora was patient. The urge to just slam himself down on Riku's dick and see the look of shock and pleasure that created was there, but he resisted it. The urge to do it just to see how good it felt was there also. Maybe one day they'd try that, but for now he just stretched himself, tried to ignored the thing that coiled and writhed in his stomach, begging for Riku's cock.

"I want you so much," Sora confessed, breathing too hard, too fast. "Riku, I—ngh. Can you...see how much I want you? Because I do. I want..." To feel the love you have for me. To feel the love I have for you.

He didn't say it. He didn't need to. Riku's eyes grew glassy. It wasn't quite the emotion Sora had been going for, or expected, really, but that was fine. Riku was the sappiest member of their trio, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Sora could believe this would be the thing that finally him cry.

Sweat and oil slid over their skin, Sora fucking himself with three fingers, staring down at Riku's flushed cheeks. The little quirks of his face, his reactions, they were all Riku, and all Sora's to see, and that made him so happy. He took in the little twitches of his eyes, the glossy sheen of his lips as he licked them, the nervous squint as he reached around to Sora's ass and—oh.

Riku slipped one hot, thick finger in next to Sora's own. It wasn't unexpected, but Riku's hands were much, much bigger than Sora's—impressive, all things considered—and that finger filled him in such a lovely way. Sora rolled his hips back onto their combined digits, drinking in the feeling of them, the frantic look on Riku's face, the desperation building as their thrusts grew faster and faster.

Neither could wait any longer.

They didn't speak, bodies doing it for them. Riku's hands on Sora's hips; steadying, strong but gentle. Sora's hand on Riku's cock; a delicate touch, positioning carefully. He could feel him leaking against his palm, throbbing in time with the rapid beat of his heart. They shared a look, long and sweet, and Sora saw the sea at sunset in Riku's eyes.

Then he sunk down on his massive cock.

It didn't hurt in the slightest. Sora had expected some pain, but he was so relaxed, so eager, so open and ready that his ass took Riku all the way to the base. The pressure was unreal though, Sora's breath escaping in a shocked huff, hand coming up to rest on his stomach just to feel the bulge there. His cock twitched as he rubbed it, Riku hot and heavy inside him. It was—intense.

He thought it should hurt a little, because Riku had hurt a lot for him. But then he supposed that was the exact opposite of what Riku wanted, and so perhaps he should be happy he didn't. Besides, it's time to celebrate. Get a move on Sora, because Riku's not gonna last and neither are you!

Indeed, Riku wasn't, head thrown back, neck bared as he moaned. It was like he was burning with fever, writhing, one hand still on Sora's hips, the other snarled in the blankets below. Every muscle in his body was shaking. Sora could feel it.  Everything wild, everything tense, Riku squirming all while he resisted the urge to grab Sora by the hips and pound into him.

He was terrified of hurting him, Sora knew. But with how tight and wet Sora was, and how thick Riku was, how sensitive—it was too much for either of them.

"You feel so good," Sora murmured, thumbing his cheek soothingly.

"I can't compare to you though," Riku replied.

"Sap."

Riku flushed, words and sounds all tangling on his tongue as embarrassment and a shift of Sora's hips sent his mind into a frenzy. Sora silenced him with a kiss, rising just a little before he slipped back down onto Riku's dick. He ground against him in slow circles, moaned into his mouth, swallowing every noise he made, promising him he already knew what lay at the heart of the words he wished he could say.

It felt so good; too good, too hot, too much. But he knew he could outlast Riku, because that was the entire purpose of this. He doubted Riku had ever touched himself, and Sora had and—he refused to fail again. He refused to be anything other than what Riku needed and Riku—

"Sora," Riku groaned into their kissing, the thumb on Sora's waist rubbing sweet circles. "You're..."

Good? Am I good for you?  Am I good enough for you? I'll be good for you in other ways. I'll be good for you in every way. I'll be what you need. I'll help you, Riku, I promise. Feel what your body does to me, feel how much love I have for you and what you've done for me, feel—

Riku's moan cut into his thoughts, and Sora realized he'd tightened around him. A little too much, as it happened. "Ah! Riku, I'm so—"

"Perfect," Riku finished for him, and Sora faltered. The expression on Riku's face made him ache. It was like nothing Ansem could wear; eyes too kind, too gentle, and so painfully loving. There was Riku's underlying intensity, that passion that had always existed inside him, mellowedby painful experiences and the sweetest intimacy. The sweetest sacrifice.

"This is for you," Sora said. "I want this to be good for—"

"Sora," Riku smiled and squeezed his hip. "This i-is..." He shivered. "This is about both of us. This is for both of us."

"I...I want it to be about you."

"If it's about me, then what I want is for it to be about both of us," he said, then pulled him down into his embrace. "I don't mind if you mess up, but don't doubt yourself. I...I do feel good. I feel better than I thought I could feel in this body. And Sora, I took on this form for you, but it wasn't because you failed. It wasn't your fault. And honestly, if you failed, then I failed worse. Only someone who fell to darkness can wear this form, after all."

"Riku, no! You're not a fail—"

"Then neither are you," Riku said, and kissed his forehead. It was clumsy, his breath still coming in pants, cock still raring to go. "You're fine, Sora. It's fine too, if you're nervous, because so am I...but...just remember that you're wonderful. You're wonderful, Sora. You feel wonderful. You make me feel good." He thrust his hips up to show him, made sure Sora knew just how hard he made him, how he throbbed, ready to topple over the edge.

Sora swallowed thickly. He didn't have the words, was never as articulate aloud as he was in his head. So he lifted his hips and let his hands twine with Riku's, used them for support as he bounced on his cock and talked with his body. Feel me. Feel good. Feel how much I love you, know that I see you in this body, feel how much I want to do this and how far I'll go because you're love to me. I want you to feel good. I want you to feel loved. I want you to feel this.

He wanted to come but he couldn't, didn't, the fire in his chest and the heat in his stomach burning. He held it back, riding hard and squeezing Riku's hands until he felt his cock twitch and body quiver. Riku cried out, voice drowning Sora's as he filled him up with wet, warm cum; hot and slick and lovely inside him.

They paused a moment, Riku softening but Sora still hard. He didn't ask for any relief though, instead sliding off Riku's cock and laying down on top of him. Head on his chest, he leaned in for a kiss, felt a lazy sort of pleasure when it was returned. His fingers drew circles against Riku's hips, his thighs, gathering oil before dipping down past his cock to stroke the skin behind his balls, and then finally, his hole.

He circled it, felt Riku shift under him. He was nervous—Sora could feel his heart thundering in his chest—but he was also relaxed, and more than that there was trust in his eyes, still wet from his earlier tears.

"Sora..."

"Mmh?"

"Please..."

See me for who I am. 

Take the body that belongs to you.

Love me even if I can't.

Sora pressed his finger inside, letting out a shaky breath. Riku was hot around him; oily and slick but also tight. He only thought a moment of how this was Ansem's body; but even then, would Ansem have been this tight? This nervous? This eager? Somehow, Sora doubted it.

He took his time. Riku wasn't easy to soothe. Coaxing him open was a task that required patience, but when he did it he felt he'd caught that perfect, final ray of sunset. However nervous he was, Riku gasped, legs parted and shaking as Sora fucked him with his fingers. Sora humped his thigh, eager to get inside the body that loved him, the boy that loved him. He refused to rush things though. He had to be careful.

Wish I'd been this careful with everything I did. Maybe I'd have gotten in trouble less. Maybe I could've done more for everyone, maybe I— He buried his head against Riku's chest. No. This isn't about that. This is...

He looked up just in time to catch Riku smiling down at him. It was a wobbly grin, the other boy too far gone to offer much else, but it was beautiful. There was no dissatisfaction, no fear. He trusted Sora completely; to love him, to destroy him, to do whatever he wanted.

Riku loves this. Riku loves me. And I think he understands what I'm saying, at least a little, with every touch.

Sora removed his fingers, sitting up so he might take Riku's legs in hand and spread them further. He gave them a gentle squeeze and looked down, eyes on Riku's face as he slowly, carefully, pushed inside. Every feeling that crossed his face, he saw, until he'd broken Riku open in his entirety. It was all laid before him; his anxiety and desire, his bitter and sweet, his sorrow and joy, his love, so much love, and—

Understanding. Comprehension.

Your body is love to me. The choice you made to save me is friendship and love in its truest form. It is d arkness turned to light and darkness within the light. It is the dawn of strength, and the sinking sun of acceptance. It is love.

I love you. 

Riku cried while he fucked him. Sora didn't know how that made him feel, arousal and concern churning in his gut, but he also didn't ask Riku to stop. Riku didn't cry often, so the fact he did now meant he had to. And maybe I like knowing this makes him feel so much, too much, that he can't hold it back.

His cock was hard, bobbing against his stomach with each of Sora's thrusts. Both of them were close to the edge already; Riku had no stamina, was entirely new to sex, and overwhelmed by emotion and pleasurable experience after pleasurable experience. All his fears, all his guilt, all his desire, and all his affection had him wobbling, weak and vulnerable.

Sora, for his part, hadn't come after their first round and was desperate to now. Riku's cock inside him had left his entire being buzzing, and Riku's ass was so hot and tight, drawing him in and dragging him deeper until they were as close as close could be.

And maybe, just maybe, Sora's heart had gone wild too. The threads of everything he'd been feeling had gotten so tangled he couldn't figure out what was what, everything chaos in his head, in his heart, hips shifting between slow thrusts and wild bucking. Eventually, he just let go trying to understand anything.

His body was saying what it needed to, and that was all that mattered. 

Riku's hands couldn't seem to find purchase, snarling in the blankets, around cushions, before finally scrabbling at Sora's back, arms wrapped tight around him and long legs gripping his sides. "Sora," he choked, tears trailing down his cheeks. "Sora, Sora!" Over and over, he repeated the name like a spell, the only thing that grounded him in this world, this body.

Sora smiled down at him, then leaned in and kissed his neck. "Riku," he murmured, and tried not to cry.

He failed.

Tears streamed down, vision blurring as he took in Riku's sweet, shining cheeks. Sora broke Riku open and broke himself in the process, the two of them becoming one. He pressed as deep as he could go, pulled back out, rubbed wherever it made Riku gasp. He felt him tighten and that was it; Riku's legs and arms embraced him, drew him in so they might meld as he came for a second time. 

Sora cried out, the heat in his stomach spreading through the rest of his body. Riku was so, so tight around him. He contracted hard, whimpering and groaning, fingers digging in deep, seed staining his belly, and Sora had no choice but to come with him. He spilled in Riku's ass, heart bursting in giddy fireworks when Riku gasped. The sound was deep, rumbling through the both of them as Riku accepted everything Sora had to give him—everything Sora wanted to express—and delighted in all the ways it made him feel, the most prominent being good.

Exhaustion caught up with Sora then. He collapsed onto Riku's chest, cock sliding free of his body. One of his hands slipped down between them to toy with the cum trickling out of Riku, his own ass still pleasantly full. Though their arms shook, they still made the effort to hold each other. Their breathing was quiet, the Secret Place warm, their hearts content.

"Thank you," Sora murmured.

"Shouldn't I be thanking you?" Riku said.

"No." Sora shook his head. "Thank you for taking on this body and saving me, Riku. I know everything with this body, with Roxas, Ansem, and the Organization—I know it was all really hard for you. So thank you." He didn't feel the need to say anything else. He was sure Riku had understood what he'd been trying to communicate.

The ocean of your eyes is the same to me no matter the time of day.

"Okay," Riku said, then pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "You're welcome. And Sora?"

"Hm?" Sora hummed, drowsy.

"I'd do it again. I'd save you every time."

You are worth every sacrifice I make.

Sora couldn't be sure he'd said it, nor could he say if it would assuage his fears if he had, but that was okay. For the moment, he was happy. There was no shame, no pain or anything of the sort. Riku was content, and Sora had done everything he'd set out to do.

That was good enough for him.

 

---

 

The sunset was beautiful, though Destiny Islands' always were. The two boys sat and watched as the sky faded from blue to gold, clouds a shimmering rose tinged with the violet of a dying day. The sea had turned to orange and amber, glittering and crystalline, speckled with the white of reflected sun and surf. The distant sound of gulls playing hung in the air, the tide whispering against the shore their quiet accompaniment.

Sora sighed and settled back again Riku's chest, warm in his arms. They were quiet and content, both still naked and wrapped in the cleanest blanket from their pile. Riku's embrace felt so good, his body lax, at ease.

No longer ashamed.

Right?

"Hey Riku?" he said.

"Hm?" was his reply.

"Do you remember what you said back at The Castle That Never Was? About becoming Ansem?"

"I do."

"Well, uh..." Sora bit his lip "You don't still feel that way, do you?"

Anxiety roiled in his stomach when Riku didn't answer immediately, but then it occurred to him that might be a good thing. Riku taking the time to consider his feelings couldn't be bad, after all.

Right?

"Y'know," Riku said, running a hand through Sora's hair, "you kind of wear your heart on your sleeve." Sora tilted his head back and saw Riku smiling, expression framed by a curtain of rose-tinged white. "All your thoughts show on your face."

Sora sighed. "Yeah, I know. But yours do too! Except when they don't..."

Riku's lips twitched, a little titter escaping before he could help himself. "Well, I suppose that's true." He opened his mouth to say something else, then stopped, raising his eyes to look out over the sea instead.

"Riku?" Sora said, voice in his throat. Please tell me everything I did had meaning. Please tell me I have meaning. Please tell me you're okay.

"Do you still feel useless?" Riku asked. "Do you still feel like you've got something to prove?"

Oh. So that's what Riku meant about his feelings showing on his face. He chewed his lip, swallowed the lump in his throat. Then he shrugged. "I don't know. I was pretty sure I'd helped you see what I wanted you to, but then a moment's hesitation from you made me question that. I feel like I've done some good, but I also feel like it doesn't matter, that I'm still just stupid ol' Sora who can't get anything right. But I know you don't think that, even when you tease me."

"You're right," Riku said, "I don't think that. Even when I was mad at you, even when I wanted you to remain a person who needed my protection, I never thought you were stupid. Silly, sometimes, but not stupid. If anything, I was the stupid one." He laughed when Sora made to protest. "It's fine, Sora. I was. I mean, I convinced myself I was better than you, when really I was just jealous, and that's probably one of the least stupid things I've done."

"Riku," Sora sighed.

"It's fine," he repeated, "but what I wanted to say is this. You've never had anything you had to prove to me, Sora. Even when we were rivals, maybe even when we were enemies. If I was a snot to you, it was probably because I needed to look away from the truth; of how good you were, of how much you meant to me. But you've never had to prove anything, okay? I've always had fun fighting with you, standing beside you, being with you. And all of this? It helped. I feel like I understand your perspective on my body a lot better than I did before, and probably a lot faster than if you'd tried to express it through speech and time alone." He smiled. "You were always good at taking action when you needed to. I guess that's what comes of following your heart, right?"

He paused, swallowed thickly, and Sora reached out and took his hand. "Riku?"

"Even..." Riku started, stopped. "Even if this body is painful to be in, I'm glad it looks like love to you. It's strange, but...it feels bad in some ways and good in others." He paused again, trying to find his words. "I don't really know how I feel yet. I don't feel like I'm becoming Ansem though, if that helps. I'm...a little more okay, with how things are. It's not my shape, but it is my heart and I—"

Sora watched as the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkled, as the amber glowed, as his face lit up upon looking down at him. It was not an expression Ansem, Seeker of Darkness, had ever worn. 

"I did what I did for you," Riku said, "and I want to be proud of that." A smile took Sora's lips and he opened his mouth, eager to encourage him, eager to please, but Riku continued. "And Sora? When you doubt yourself, I want to be there for you. I like to tease you, because that's what we've always done, but I also want you to know that I believe in you. I'm proud of you. The way you follow your heart, and how hard you work—I see that. I always wanted to be like you, but if I can't be, then I'm content knowing you'll always have my back. I just hope I can always have yours."

Sora blinked. There was still a part of him worried that he couldn't ever achieve what he wanted to, that he would always fail, but Riku's faith in him eased it. He'd done good. He'd done well.

"Okay," he said, smile a little watery. "Though I suppose I should consider myself lucky your back is so big now, huh? Since it's the one that's going to be protecting mine."

Riku snorted. "Just remember, it's more for you to take care of."

"That's fine. I can handle it." He smiled, squeezing Riku's hand and leaning back against his chest. He could feel the rumble of his every breath, deep and pleasant, reverberating through his soul. Before him, their childhood playground spread out; the island in all its glory. Beyond it was the sea, and somewhere, the mainland, where their friends played, where Kairi waited for the both of them, and for her moment with Riku. Beyond that still spilled the endless sky and stars, where all they'd fought to protect lay safe and at peace.

"Hey Riku?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you too."

Riku laughed, then settled with his body against the cave's entrance, and Sora's body against his. The two of them remained entwined with each other and the dusk, the sun's roseate kisses mingling with their own.

Sora did not say the last of his thoughts, but as day faded into night, he thought of Riku's beauty. He thought he was becoming Ansem. He thought he was becoming darkness. But instead he took the darkness and turned it into light—no. He turned it into love.

"There's nothing more beautiful than that," he murmured.

"Nothing more beautiful than what, Sora?" Riku asked.

And Sora could have been embarrassed. He could have lied or confessed he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

Instead, he tilted his head back and saw the sea at sunset.

"There's nothing more beautiful than you, Riku."