Welcome Home
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It was amazing how the island hadn't changed. How many years had it been? Two? Such a short time, but he himself had changed so much. He felt their little haven should have been different as well, yet as always, it never changed. The same paopu tree sat on the same sand, and the same little shack barely stood where it always had.
Yet he had grown. He had gone through a roundabout. At one time he would have given everything away in order to get away from this tiny place.
A prison, surrounded by water...
He shook his head as he walked across the empty beach. He had given everything away. He lost his home, his friends, his very heart and soul. His dream became a nightmare, but in the end he had become stronger from it. There were deep scars. In his sleep he was still haunted by his fall; thoughts of what he had done and what he nearly did. It was painful turning in a monster, and it hurt all the more trying to return to something vaguely human. Somehow he won.
When he had returned to the island it was almost as if he were learning how to live again. Smiles, laughter... they no longer came naturally, but he was getting better at convincing people.
They never spoke about what happened to him.
And that is what made him feel uneasy and come to the island when the others were away doing whatever it was they did now. This was his constant. It would never change. Not even their little hidden place, where the darkness thrived. Not the darkness he was used to - just a lack of sun.
It was harder for him to get in now that he had grown taller. He bet Kairi and Sora could still fit with little effort, but he had to nearly crawl in on his hands and knees. As he rose, he was content to see that the walls hadn't been touched. The same drawings remained; the days he and Kairi and Sora would spend in here scribbling still remembered. He trailed his hand along the cold stones as he fondly looked at the messy doodles they did as children. Princesses, monsters, flowers...
And something else.
The original drawing was somewhat faded - two little heads, one with unmistakable spikes and the other a certain short haired girl. Sora and Kairi. He remembered that being there before, but what was added in fresher chalk was what surprised him.
He dropped to his knees, his fingers tracing the arms up to the tiny little stars they held. One was clearly drawn by Sora - he used strong lines, able to press the stone harder, and the other...
Riku's lips curved into a soft smile. He knew all along, and somehow it still stung. The hero always got the girl. Not the anti-hero. He knew it when he saw them hug, the way they smiled at each other, they way she waited for Sora and wrote a poem for Sora and the way she depended on Sora. She couldn't depend on him.
Because he had changed and because he had let go of any rights to her as soon as he had wanted to change. Her light was too powerful for his dark.
He almost wanted to add something of his own to the drawing, but what? There was nothing to add. The drawing had changed. Everything had changed. The island... yes, even his island had changed.
But maybe those two little arms were always there, even before the faces were etched on the stone. So, perhaps, it wasn't a change at all.
Perhaps this was reality showing him his place and welcoming him home.