Caged
Rating: PG13
Series: KH
Genre: Drama
Pairings: Kairi/Sora & Sora/Riku
Warnings: Het, Yaoi, Angst.
By Moon Faery
Beta:
Disclaimer: Me no own. Go sue someone else.
Summary: Keyblades are for locks, for doors and gates and anything you want to keep locked away safe. Keyblades are for cages, and on her wedding day Kairi finds out that sometimes the cage isn't made of metal or wood.
"Ten minutes late! Where is he?" White satin and ivory lace rustle charmingly as Kairi paces. She wishes they would snap, but a wedding dress can only do so much do to express frustration. Only her shoes reflect her mood, cracking against the ceramic tile of her make-shift dressing room in a sharp military staccato. Every step reinforces her anger. Better anger than fear. "If Sora doesn't get his ass to the altar, I'm going to kill him!"
Selphie, her maid of honor and only bridesmaid, perches on the edge of a plastic office chair scrounged from another room, pastel green gown arranged carefully to keep from crushing the skirt. Old City Hall doesn't provide much in the way of creature comforts, no matter how elegant its foyer. "Maybe he's throwing up?" she asks helpfully. "He looked kind of pale this morning."
Swish rustle swirl turn. The keyblade weighs her heart down with cold, occupying a place inside where nothing like it belongs. She isn't meant to carry it, and it knows. It was supposed to make her Sora's equal. Instead it just makes her more aware of her limitations.
"You don't think he's run, do you?" Kairi flicks her wrist to sweep away an annoying curl near her jaw. Solid, vibrant streaks of crayon and pencil blur and twist on the wide expanse of her blank canvas imagination, swirling into Sora stretched out on a sandy beach in the sun as she'd seen him so often. As quickly as it forms, the image rips away, gone forever. Ever since Sora came back it's been her private nightmare that something would take him away again. It took two years to work up the courage and a month-long engagement, but the nightmare was about to be banished with a set of vows.
Sometimes Kairi can hear Naminé in her ear as she paints the canvas in their mind. Hold on to him. Never let go. Sora has a gypsy soul. Maybe if she holds on, if she gives him an anchor, the next adventure won't come. It's the only hope she has. "He's been so quiet about the wedding. What if he doesn't want to marry me? What if--"
"What if the beaches were made of sugar?" Selphie's circlet of rosettes and ribbons tilt rakishly as she watches the panicking bride. "Sora loves you. He'd never leave you at the altar." Her fingers toy with a ribbon, the nails painted glowing neon orange for reasons only Selphie knows. "Besides, that's what the best man's for. Riku will keep him from freaking out. Even if he has to tie him up with his cummerbund." Her eyes cross in thought. "That could be kinda fun..."
"I wish I could see him," Kairi moans, ignoring Selphie's weirdness. In the silk- and flower-bedecked bower of the dressing room, the whole world feels muffled and distant. There's just herself and Selphie, and in some way the ever-present shadow of Naminé. Sora feels so far away, like she might never touch him again. "If I could just talk to him, reassure him..."
"Why not?"
Blue-violet eyes blink. Sometimes it's easy for the redhead to forget that Selphie operates in a world of her own most of the time. "It's bad luck."
"Worse luck if the groom does a runner." Selphie points at the door. "Go take a peek. If he needs you, you'll know. If he just can't find his shoes, you'll feel better."
Staring at the other girl's earnest expression, Kairi's mind flows with color. Slashes of red streak across her vision. Naminé doesn't think it's a good idea.
Kairi does. "We're already late. A few minutes won't hurt, right?"
"Right!" Selphie's fingers cock like a gun. "I'll cover for you!"
"You do that." Bunching her skirt around her knees, Kairi slips off her shoes and out the back door. Everyone will be watching the front door to see her appear, but the ancient Hall she'd chosen to house the ceremony holds dozens of little offices that all feed into each other. Most people don't bother with the connecting doors, taking the less confusing main hallways. For a girl who grew up playing in the maze of board rooms and forgotten doors, though, it's simplicity itself to sneak around.
Three offices down from her own room is Sora's. Like her, he only has one person with him, his best friend. It makes it easy to crack the door and peer through unnoticed. She can barely see through the crack, but that only means they're less likely to notice her.
Riku, dressed perfectly with his silvery hair pulled back in a queue, stands behind her husband-to-be with his arms around Sora's shoulders, working on his tie. Sora's helplessness with ties did its rounds as legend, so she isn't surprised Riku has to do it for him. Working it backwards seems a little strange, but there's probably some kind of guy-logic to it. Kairi wishes she could see their faces. Neither is speaking at all, and their backs don't tell her anything useful. Even without seeing their expressions, relief tries to flutter through her chest on feathered wings, lifting the weight of the keyblade to something almost bearable.
"There." Riku's voice doesn't break the silence so much as caress it into submission. But the pleasantly velvety roll is stretched tight, fighting to stay normal. Kairi frowns, hoping it isn't a cold. "You're ready."
Sora doesn't move, staring at something just to the side of her range of vision, maybe a mirror. They'd tried to do something to neaten his hair, but the unruly mess looks only a little better than usual. Kairi almost smiles.
A presence settles at her side to watch, soft and barely there. Kairi glances at Naminé, meeting her sad gaze. Her Nobody almost never appears so blatantly. Now she presses a finger to her lips. Kairi nods. Together they turn to watch again.
The best man never moved his arms. They drape over Sora's still shoulders, no longer for any reason she can see. Something about his posture and the tilt of his head bothers her. The two boys have always been closer than brothers, closer than anything. She'd always known that.
So why do they stand together like two halves of a whole?
"I can do this." Sora's voice cracks. A shudder travels down his black-clad frame. "I can."
"You can." Two syllables trace themselves in unhappiness on the air. "We can."
Fabric sighs Sora leaned back into his best friend, a piece of wall finding its support. The keyblade in Kairi's heart turns icy, freezing a hole outward from her center, turning her to ice inside. Naminé's ghostly hand fumbles for hers. Their fingers twist together, comfort in the face of the blow she can feel about to fall.
"I don't want to."
Riku's white-gloved hand brushes unerringly across Sora's cheek. A tear stains the tip of his finger. "I don't either." That silver-white head bends, and the moist sound of lips meeting skin brushes the silence like butterfly wings. "We will. It would break her heart."
"For Kairi." Her name comes out as a sigh, the last breath before despair. She'd never heard Sora say her name like that. Now she thinks it might haunt her nightmares.
"For Kairi," Riku agreed.
She lets the door whisper shut. Naminé squeezes her hand, then fades. Color splashes across the canvas in her head in frenzied strokes. A birdcage and the keyblade. Creases form in her skirt as she fists the delicate fabric.
The Nobody is right. She has a keyblade, even if it isn't her own and sits like a lump of lead in her heart. Keyblades are for locks, for doors and gates and anything you want to keep locked away safe.
Keyblades are for cages.
Her gold engagement ring gleams in the low lighting of the empty office. She stares at it, twisting the metal around her finger. "I can do this. For Sora."
The wedding march plays on the organ as Kairi steps out onto the aisle. Guests rise to their feet automatically, some freezing as she goes past. Selphie and the bouquet had been left in the dressing room, and she hadn't bothered to put her high heels back on. The formalized steps of the wedding ceremony vanish, leaving only chaos in its wake.
Sora twists to stare as the the organ squawks to a halt, too-blue eyes wider than she'd ever seen them. From behind her veil she tries to read his expression, to see the boy she's always known. And he's there, but she doesn't see the lover she'd thought he'd become. Sora's Nobody steps back from them, a hazy presence next to Naminé.
Kairi lifts her own veil, not wanting even a piece of cloth between them. She owes Sora more than that.
"Kairi?" Confusion tilts the corners of Sora's eyes downward. "What's wrong?" His eyes flick over her shoulder. She glances behind her. Riku's pushing through the people that crowd the aisle, worry turning his face pale as his hair. He must have gone to get Selphie and found out her plan.
"Everything's wrong." Colors fill her head in crumbling streaks and lines, her own now. Naminé can't help her with this. She knows what she has to do. "I love you Sora." She takes his hands. Even inside his gloves she can feel their warm strength. A lock clicks inside as she presses her engagement ring into his palm.
The cage door swings open.
"I love you," she repeats as Riku finally shoves his way to Sora's side. "That's why I couldn't do it."
Sora stares at the band of gold. "Kairi... I-- I'm..."
I'm sorry. It doesn't need to be said. "I know. I am too." She looks at Riku with dry eyes, though she knows the tears will come eventually. Riku stands at Sora's side like he belongs there. He does. The two of them played and fought and worked and battled side-by-side all their lives. He's always been Sora's partner in everything, another gypsy soul. "Riku." The lump in her chest threatens to bring her to her knees. Somewhere she finds the strength to lean up and kiss his cheek, while the two Nobodies watch solemnly from behind. "Take care of him."
Riku nods once, ocean-colored eyes never leaving hers. He understands, even if Sora doesn't yet.
Gathering her too-long skirt in her hands, Kairi flees back to the dressing room, back to Selphie, who's her best friend and will understand better than anyone. Away from the heavy eyes of the guests, from Sora and Riku and the pain of goodbye.
In her mind, the drawing of the cage crumbles to dust.
Owaru