Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts (what an original and interesting disclaimer, no? XD)
Notes: Hey, look, something outside of my drabble collection! XD Yes, I wrote a oneshot, and this time there's no angsty!Riku. Yes, I can hear you gasping; no, that does not mean that this isn't angsty. I mean, it even says so for the genre! Maybe I'll get around to writing another humor fic, but that time isn't now.
What It Was Like
"What was it like?"He wanted to tell them. He wanted to explode all over Tidus and Selphie and Wakka, destroy whatever measly little hopes they had of the outside world, because he knew that those hopes would get them killed and oh gods, not them too, not them again.
He wanted to tell them what it was like, what it was really like, what he'd spent every waking moment seeing and looking past and smiling around, because he was Sora and that meant that he had to smile and grin and laugh like nothing was wrong. It was expected of him, but more than that, others depended on him smiling and grinning and laughing, because smiles were few and grinning was rare and if he didn't laugh then they'd forget what it sounded like.
He wanted to tell them how it felt to go three days without eating because the last of the munny had been spent on a potion to heal the gash on Goofy's arm before it got infected. He wanted to tell them how it felt to pour sticky potions all over his chest because he already had one scar there and he didn't want any other. He wanted to tell them how it felt to look at himself in the mirror and be able to see exactly how many scars he'd gotten from and because of Riku, knowing fully well that he'd given as good as he got. He wanted to tell them what it felt like to have a sunburn on his entire body because he'd been dumb enough to take off his shirt to wrap around a shivering Donald and his vest was already draped over Goofy and they had all forgotten to wake up before Agrabah's sun had turned him a red that matched Kairi's hair.
He wanted to watch as the light in their eyes went pfft and they sighed and moved on to the next should-be-impossible thing. He wanted to stand by patiently and wait for them to get over it and live nice, happy lives, all because he hadn't let them cherish that sliver of hope that the outside was better.
He wanted to, but he didn't. He didn't say anything at all, because the question was only in his head and their eyes and until it was formed into words he couldn't answer it and so they kept their dream and he kept his memories and the two stayed firmly apart.
What was it like? He couldn't tell them that.