Eight months.

Eight months of these conflicting emotions. Squall Leonhart, nowadays known as Leon Braveheart, hated himself to the very center of his core. That hatred radiated and spread through his veins, seizing him yet never fully controlling him.

He had been like this for the last eight months. If any deity had brought death upon him, he wouldn't feel as if his end was too soon. No, it was too late. He deserved to die the night the shit hit the fan.

He knew his actions were wrong from the start but that hadn't deterred him. It should have, but it didn't. He continuously asked himself how he could stop, knowing the woman he felt deeper for was lying under him, hands tangled in his brown locks. He should have stopped the moment he kissed her, but it felt so right.

He had hurt more than one person in the process and he knew it. But he also knew the red head felt the same way, buried underneath her personality. That one night had broken her silent promise to the not yet legal aged silver haired boy. And he, he himself had helped her break that promise.

And then, on top of it all there was her. He knew he should have loved her the right way, given her the affection she showered him with. But he couldn't, he didn't. Not from day one. Perhaps, now that he pondered it, that was why he and Rinoa had eventually went their separate ways. But this was different. The spark between himself and Rinoa had died after a point.

This, what he had done, had nothing to do with a spark. No, he crushed her. Broke her heart to pieces and he didn't even have so much of an ounce of courage to tell her the next morning. He knew he should have, but he waited two days allowing her to continually love him and he forced the word love out of his mouth.

Leon knew the word never sounded more hollow until after that night with the red head. He betrayed her and, at that, with her cousin. Her cousin who she was closest to out of her family. He loathed himself for his actions. And he felt he deserved severe punishment.

All at once, the memory of her pain filled face came back, tears streaming down her face like rivers. The hurt look in her eyes as they dulled, the same eyes that had looked at him with so much care and love. He had done that, he had broken her. But he also despised the others. The night it happened she had been at her friend's but everyone else had heard what they were doing and none intervened. He at least thought Aerith or Cloud, her brother, would have had enough sense to tell her the next day but no. They sat there, every last one of them, silent and waiting.

Waiting for what? For him to admit the truth? He didn't want to admit that truth, the truth that he screwed up big time. How could he? He, a fierce lion, had turned his once prideful lioness into a sobbing, broken beauty. He knew sorrys were nothings. He had at the time consider saying he loved her but he knew those words would feel used, wasted, and devoid. They would fall on deaf ears.

Truth be told he loved the raven haired, but not to the extent of what she wanted. He wanted to love her that way, Kingdom hearts he did. But he couldn't. It just didn't feel right. But being with her cousin that night did. And then there was Cloud. He had not said a word about the ordeal after! He had not threatened him, had not told him to stay away from his little sis, had not told him to end all ties with their cousin. No, now, it seemed more like he approved of their relationship. Seemed like everyone did.

And then there was the freaky chain of events afterwards. She had yelled at him, cursed him, eyes burning with anger. Then there was the bright flash and she was gone. He knew he should have gone looking for her afterwards but he couldn't bring himself to, knowing she'd still hate him. A few days later, Sora and Kairi had arrived in Radiant Garden panicked. Riku had disappeared, seemingly off the face of all the worlds. He had left a note to Safari and he had arrived on the assumption of what it said based on how tears trickled down her face as she continued reading. He had read the letter hours later as the red head lay beside him, having cried herself to sleep on his bed. Riku wanted nothing to do with her ever again, dead or alive, future or no future for him. They had been close, despite the age difference; they had intentions to be together when he was legal. She confined in him more than she did her sister. So the more he thought about it, he wasn't surprised she was struck with grief over the letter's undertone of hurt and hatred.

He blamed himself for this whole mess but that didn't stop him from being happy with the red head. One thing, however, was still at the back of his mind no matter how much he tried to erase it. It was there now, even as he walked to the marketplace hand in hand with Safari at his side.

The image of Sakoura crying, eyes openly showing the hurt and pain, would forever scar his mind and heart. All because of him.