Sora crossed the bridge, determined to give Riku a piece of his mind about his earlier comments involving Kairi and the consumption of a certain local delicacy. A weak, ineffectual breeze did it's best to toss his hair lazily in what looked like twelve directions at once—the sky was permeated yellow and green, which meant a storm by morning, late that night at the earliest.
Riku was, as ever, leaning against the wind-bent paopu tree, a look of distant but gathering worry in his eyes, just like the clouds.
"Riku, I think it's about time we got something straight, I—"
The other boy turned slowly towards him, the sunset tinting his silver hair a peachy gold, shadows mingling purple in his eyes. He'd been training: he panted lightly, his practice sword stabbed into the yielding sand. The sight of him, exhausted, did more to dissolve Sora's anger than he cared to admit, but he wasn't going to let Riku get away with it.
"I don't want to share a paopu fruit with Kairi."
Riku laughed, a light sound that still managed to drip with sarcasm and not but the smallest 'hollier-than-thou' twinge. Sora didn't mind. It gave him an excuse to be angry again.
"Sure, Sora. Look, it's okay but if we're going to do this, it's going to be before we leave."
Do what?
"You want a rematch?" Sora asked, feeling more than up to taking out some of his aggression.
"It wouldn't be a rematch. And I've already beaten you."
"How?" Sora demanded.
"Figure it out for yourself. There are some things you can't share, Sora. Better you learn that now than out there." Riku cast a gloved hand out towards the rapidly expanding indigo horizon.
"What do you mean, things we can't share? We're going to share it. All three of us."
For a moment, Riku didn't reply. There was that look in his eyes that Sora received so often that seemed to say 'and...what are you referring to?' It usually wasn't long after that that conversations just ended, but he was determined this time. Like hell Sora was walking away now— when it felt like something very important was a stake— but he couldn't tell exactly what.
"Do you really think that's possible, Sora?" Riku asked after a while, turning back to stare away into nothing.
"It has to be. There's no way I'd get out there and lose either of you."
"It's a big ocean. Don't make promises you can't keep...even if it's just to yourself."
Sora took two steps towards Riku, finally fed up enough to hit him, when the first big wet drops of rain hit his bare arm. Riku didn't budge, even as the breeze began to whip and whorl around them. There was something terrifyingly familiar about the way the air temperature dropped like a stone.
"Well this is a promise I can keep." Sora said, the images from his nightmare starting to leak into the fuzzy black edges of his consciousness—a looming fear, a heavy presence somewhere out there in the gathering dark and closing fast. "We will share a paopu fruit. All of us."
Riku listened for a moment, heard the sand and splintering wood crunch under Sora's feet, and then felt the boy dash off, frightened, no doubt, by the oncoming storm. Riku watched the storm roll in, wondering when Sora would grow up and if he was in fact ready for that great unknown.
"If you're still running scared at a little rain, we are in big trouble."