Phantom Dreams
Three months. It had been three whole months since he'd last seen Kairi.
When would this end? When would Xehanort realize this was pointless and let him go? He was no closer to succumbing than he had been at the start, and it was all thanks to Kairi.
He pulled out her charm, the sign of the promise he'd made to always return to her. It had often brought him comfort, and now was no different. As he lay back on the stiff mattress and ignored his aching limbs, he closed his eyes and imagined seeing her again.
All thoughts of Xehanort left his mind because she was all that really mattered. Her cute smile, her red hair, her teasing looks. Her kind heart, her gentle light, her unwavering belief in him and in a better future.
"Kairi," he said softly, a faint smile tugging his cracked lips. Memories of her flooded his heart and banished the darkness, kept it at bay. His grip around the charm tightened, and for a moment he imagined her hand held tightly in his.
So long as he kept her in his memory like this, he was safe.
Right?
The following night, he was back in his room (well, more prison cell than room), lying on the unforgiving mattress, trying to ignore his injured wrist (thanks a lot, Xigbar) when he thought about Kairi again.
Thinking about her eased the pain, both in his body and in his heart. Xehanort had been pretty ruthless today, trying to force the darkness inside him. Which was why he'd ended up with a busted wrist.
Ouch. That was going to take a while to heal, unless Xehanort decided to heal it tomorrow. One thing was for sure though. Sora would be punished if he tried to heal it himself.
Kairi's lucky charm was gripped in his other hand, though, and as he thought of her, the bed, the room, even the throbbing pain in his wrist, all seemed far away. She was what was real.
"Kairi," he murmured, her name soothing on his lips, healing to his heart.
"Sora."
His eyes flew open.
"Kairi?" He sat up and winced. "Is that you?"
The light in the room was dim, and flickering shadows danced across the walls. The wind whistled through the barred window high above him, his only link to the outside world.
"Kairi?" he asked, pulling his threadbare blanket tighter around him. This tower got downright freezing at night, and tonight wasn't any different.
A giggle came from behind him. He whirled around, but all he saw was a flash of red hair. Nothing more.
"Kairi?" he repeated. But there was no response this time.
He flopped back on the bed and sighed. "Must have been my imagination."
A part of him wished it hadn't been. What he wouldn't give to see her again.
He heard her voice again the next night.
"Sora," she said, light and lilting and playful.
"Kairi?"
When he glanced behind him, though, the same thing happened. Just a flash of red hair, and then she was gone.
He raked his hand through his hair. "What's going on? What's happening to me?"
He got no answer except the cold wind whistling through the window, the moonlight flickering across the stone floor. He curled up in bed, still gripping her charm, but it took a long time for him to fall asleep.
When he checked his reflection in the mirror inside Xehanort's throne room the next day, a strand of his hair had turned silver.
The third night, he tried to ignore the voice, tried to tell himself it was only his imagination.
It didn't work.
"Sora," it called. He could picture the pout Kairi would be making right about now, that was how real the voice sounded. "Why are you ignoring me?" it asked.
"I'm not ignoring you, I—" He groaned and smashed the pillow against his ears to block it all out, wincing when the straw inside poked and prodded at him.
"Forget it, you're just an illusion, anyway," he spat. "Another way for Xehanort to find the cracks in my heart. I don't know why I'm even talking to you."
"An illusion?" she said, and he felt a strong tug on the pillow. "Can an illusion do this?"
The pillow was gone and the blanket was, too. And in their place were her warm arms wrapped around him and her soft chest pressed into his back.
He gasped and reached back, but she was already gone. All that was left were his lumpy pillow and hole-filled blanket.
The night was cold, but the places where she'd touched him stayed warm long after she was gone.
An illusion couldn't do that… could it?
It was the fourth night. He hated himself for looking forward to her visit.
"Sora," she cooed, and when she wrapped her arms around him again, he didn't try to touch her this time, just held still.
"That's a good boy," she murmured, her breath hot on his icy neck. His heart sped up at her praise. Kairi usually just gave him a hard time, which made any compliments from her that much more special.
"You wanted this, didn't you?" she purred, her fingers stroking his chest. "You've been thinking about me all day."
He had.
Her hands tightened around him, bringing her body flush against his. His breath caught, it felt so good.
"It's been so long since we've seen each other," she said, and he hated how sad and lonely her voice sounded. "I miss you."
"I miss you too."
Her hands traveled lower, and he found himself wishing she would—
His face burned. No. He couldn't think things like that. Kairi would never—
She paused at his hips, and her cute giggle filled his ears. "Feels good, doesn't it? We were always so shy before, but right now you're letting me hold you the way you've always wanted me to."
It did feel good. It felt better than he'd imagined.
But the real Kairi would never do something like this. Not with how things were right now. Maybe someday. Maybe after he'd finally told her how he felt, confessed the kind of future he wanted to share with her.
But not now.
He sighed deeply. "It does feel good, but it isn't real."
He tried to extract himself from her arms, but she was already gone.
He hated how much that stung.
Talking to her on the fifth night didn't help. Any time he tried to look at her, the most he could see was a glimpse of her red hair. And any time he tried to touch her, she would just slip through his fingers.
So on the sixth night, he tried to ignore her again.
It didn't go well.
When she tried to do the hugging him from behind thing again, he sat up and shielded himself with the blanket, much to her annoyance.
"Sora, why are you doing this? Why are you treating me like this?" she said, and there was real anger and frustration in her voice.
He put his head in his hands. "You aren't real. None of this matters."
"Is Roxas not real? Naminé?"
"You keep them out of this," he ground out through gritted teeth.
He felt her settle against his back and sigh. "I'm as real as they are."
"No, you're not. You're just an illusion sent to torment me. Probably another one of Xehanort's tricks."
"Torment you? Torment you?" she said with a whine. "Holding you in my arms is torment now?"
"Yeah, it is, because you're not real. You can never replace the real Kairi. All you can do is remind me of how much I want to be with her."
She was silent for a long time. "How do you know who you want to be with is the real Kairi?" she asked when she finally spoke again. "How do you know she's not just as much of an illusion as you think I am?"
He sat up straighter, and his shadow against the wall did, too. Maybe he should be bothered by the fact that he could feel her leaning against his back but couldn't see any shadow from her, but for whatever reason, he wasn't.
Maybe because what she'd just said seemed a lot more important right now.
"What do you mean?" he asked, not really sure he wanted the answer.
"Sora, you haven't been around me for more than a few weeks at a time for nearly two years now. Do you really even know me anymore?"
Sora considered this. It was true, he and Kairi had been separated a lot lately. But they'd known each other for years. She was his closest friend besides Riku. He had changed and she had changed, but that could never erase the bond they shared.
"I do know you," he said, but his voice came out sounding more defensive than he'd wanted it to. "You're Kairi, my friend, my—"
"Your what, Sora?" she asked, and her question made his heart pound. "Are you sure you haven't just built me up in your head to be something I'm not?"
He hesitated. Sure, he'd imagined he and Kairi sharing something more than just friendship someday, but that was normal when you had feelings for someone, wasn't it?
Kairi felt the same way, didn't she?
"You say you know the real Kairi," she began, "but this 'real' Kairi you claim to know so well is just as much of a fake as you think I am."
"That's not true!"
She sighed. "Yes, it is. She's too perfect. She isn't ever angry or annoyed with you. She's always there for you when you need her to be. She exists only to serve you and help you without so much as a peep about her own wants or needs."
"And what are her wants and needs?" Sora asked, his fists balling at his sides.
"You tell me. What do I want more than anything?"
Before he could answer her, she was gone.
"Me. You want me," he said when she came to him on the seventh night. How could he have been so blind? The answer was obvious. It had been staring him in the face all this time. She wanted him, and he'd done nothing but run away and leave her behind.
Some friend he was.
She giggled. "Bingo. I want a man who will always be by my side."
"But I haven't always been by your side." It was one of his greatest failures, his biggest shortcomings. He couldn't keep his promises to her, not even once. And that wasn't about to change, not until all their friends were safe.
"But you are a man," she purred in his ear, her arms going around him again. "Aren't you?"
Sora didn't know what to say to that. He'd hardly call a sixteen-year old a man, but… He knew he wasn't a boy anymore, either. Not with how good it felt to have her pressed against him like this, her arms tight around his waist.
"This is real," she murmured, her soft lips playing with his ear and brushing against his neck, teasing him, tormenting him. "This isn't just one of your fantasies."
"Yes it is. Kairi would never—"
"You're right. She wouldn't. So which will you choose, Sora? Me, or that unattainable angel you've put on a pedestal?"
With that she was gone. The only sound was the howling of the wind.
Sora hated how badly he wanted her to come back.
The eighth night arrived, but she didn't. He tossed and turned in his bed, trying to get her out of his head, trying to get her out of his heart.
He couldn't. Not her teasing, lilting voice, not her arms wrapped around him, not her lips kissing and caressing and tempting him with what could be his. All he had to do was ask.
It was what she wanted, right? It was what he wanted, too.
Then… why did it feel so wrong?
The ninth night came and went, and so did the tenth and eleventh. Each night he grew more and more miserable, and his sleep became less and less restful.
He missed her. Missed her voice, missed her touch, missed her presence.
Being separated from her was more than he could bear. He'd been separated from her for too long now and it was killing him on the inside.
He could end it. All he had to do to end it was say her name. But the rims of his eyes were yellow now and his hair was filled with silver streaks and he knew his heart was this close. It was this close to succumbing to the darkness completely.
Then why… why did a part of him want to give in, if it meant he could finally be with her?
His dreams during the twelfth night were feverish, desperate. She was high up on a pedestal while he was stuck on the ground below. Whenever he figured out a way to jump higher or get closer, the pedestal got taller. She was always just out of his reach, just beyond his touch.
Well, he was sick of that. Sick of being denied what they both wanted.
His life wasn't even his anymore. He was always helping other people and never asking for anything in return.
Surely he could have just this one thing for himself, right?
The thirteenth night was here. It had been twelve nights since she'd first started visiting him.
He couldn't take it anymore. He was lonely. His friends weren't coming for him. They didn't even know how to find him in this cold, dark tower. He wanted Kairi and he wanted her badly.
He couldn't have her.
He could.
He shouldn't.
He wanted to.
Her lucky charm was in his hand and he was sitting on the edge of the bed, completely unable to sleep as he warred with himself over what to do. His body pulled him in one direction, his mind the other, and his tortured, tormented heart was caught between the two.
His hand shook as he stared at the charm. "Kairi—" he choked out, a broken, desperate plea. He wasn't even sure who he was calling to anymore. The real Kairi, or the illusion.
But she came all the same. "You called?" she murmured, and it was so good to hear her voice after six days of agonizing solitude that tears welled up in his eyes.
"You're here. You're really here."
"Of course I am. I would never abandon you, Sora."
He didn't care if she was fake anymore. What he was feeling right now was real.
When she rested her hand on his knee, he didn't stop her. He put his hand over hers and she was real. He let out a soft cry of relief at that. Her shadow danced across the wall next to his and her skin was solid beneath his hand and she was real. After all this time, they were finally reunited. She had come down off that pedestal just so they could be together like they'd always wanted.
And when he turned to look her in the eye, he saw more than just a glimpse of her hair. He saw her lovely face, her cute smile, her golden eyes.
"Kairi," he cried, then took her in his arms, crushing his lips against hers. He needed this. He wanted this. He moaned into her mouth as she kissed him back in a way that made his heart race. She wasn't being gentle, and neither was he. There wasn't any time for that anymore. Not when they'd had to wait this long.
He didn't even notice the poison slip from her lips to his, the silver leech into his hair and the gold into his eyes. Because this was what he wanted, more than anything. His Kairi was in his arms like she should be, solid and real and obtainable at long last.
When they finally broke apart, they were both left gasping for air.
"See?" she said, running the tip of her tongue across her swollen lips and smiling. "I'm always with you, Sora, here inside your heart."
She put her finger against his chest, and it was icy cold. He looked down, and darkness was pouring out of him and flooding the room. He gasped and glanced up, and when he did, Kairi was no longer there. Xehanort was standing in front of the wooden door to his room instead.
"You tricked me!" Sora wailed, scrambling to his feet and tripping over the edge of the bed and sprawling onto the cold stone floor. "You used her against me!"
Xehanort towered over him and smiled, a horrible, chilling smile. "Don't act so surprised. She is both your greatest strength and your greatest weakness. It didn't take much effort on my end at all to get you to hear what you wanted to hear, see what you wanted to see."
Sora froze. "You mean—"
"Yes." Xehanort sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed out its wrinkly sheets. "Your feelings for her are so strong you created an illusion of her, a phantom. Fascinating, isn't it? You relied on her to keep you safe, but once I figured out a way to use her against you, it was only a matter of time before your heart succumbed."
"I created the phantom Kairi? That was me?"
The phantom's words came back to him. She was right. He didn't know the real Kairi, not anymore. All he had was this fake inside his head, this illusion in his heart.
That was more crushing to realize than knowing his heart was now lost to the darkness.
"Yes," Xehanort replied. "Not at first, but over time your heart took over and turned her into something beyond my wildest dreams. Not yours, though. It seems as if she is exactly what you wanted, what the real Kairi could never be. But it doesn't really matter, because either way, I have you now. You're mine."
The others had arrived. As Ansem yanked him off the ground by the hair and Xemnas forced him into one of those horrible black coats, he called out to Kairi, the real Kairi, one last time.
"Kairi, if you can hear me— I'm sorry—"
"Hush, boy," Xehanort commanded. "Your heart is mine now."
It was true. Sora hated it but it was true. With the last of his consciousness, the last of his control, he cried out:
"Maybe I don't know the real you anymore, Kairi, but I want to! I'm still here, I swear! Come find me, the real me. I want to see you again. Please—"
It was dark and cold and not even the phantom was here to comfort him anymore. He was trapped inside his own body, a spectator to whatever Xehanort decided to do with his heart and soul.
The phantom Kairi had never been real in the first place. That was just his own heart, so desperate and needy he'd accept even a fake version of Kairi.
"I'm pathetic," he whispered. "I deserve whatever happens to me."
What would Kairi think, knowing this was how he'd succumbed? Giving in to his lust, his loneliness and desperation, less than two weeks after Xehanort had figured out how to use her against him?
He couldn't bear to face her. Not like this. Never like this.
He buried his face in his hands. "Maybe what I thought was love wasn't really love after all. Maybe it was all just in my head."
And that was the saddest thought of all.
He didn't know how long he sat like that. Time lost all meaning down here. But when he opened his eyes again, he wasn't alone.
"Kairi?" he sniffed, wiping his eyes. A faint glow radiated off her, and she smiled sadly.
"You forgot something."
She took his hand in hers, soft and warm and real. It felt good just to hold her hand again. She placed something in his, something familiar. When she removed her fingers, all he could do was stare.
"Your lucky charm. But how—"
She gave him that same sad smile again. "You're not the only one who dreams, you know."
And with that, she was gone. The lucky charm remained in his hand, its soft glow lighting up the depths of his darkened heart.
His grip around it tightened. "Kairi, I swear. I swear I'll make our dreams a reality. We won't have to imagine a future together any longer. It'll become real."
Maybe this was all just a dream. Maybe it was all an illusion. Maybe the Kairi he'd seen just now was only a phantom.
But if it gave him hope to keep on fighting, if she gave him hope to keep on fighting—
Was it really so bad to dream after all?
A/N: A big thank you to Rapis_Razuri and FairyVeil for inspiring me to write this story! The three of us were having a really interesting discussion about Sora and Kairi the other night, about what might happen if his feelings for her were pushed into the realm of obsession.
Fairy in particular had some really great insights about that that got me thinking – what if Sora really does put Kairi on a pedestal a little? She's his dream girl, but they've been separated so much lately that he might be more than a little fixated on being with her. That could easily turn into obsession if he let it, if he's always thinking about her but doesn't ever get to interact with her anymore.
Then Rapis brought up the Rose-Haired Phantom stuff from Final Fantasy XIII, which I am a sucker for because it is A+ angst material. And I thought, hmmmm, what if I applied that to Kingdom Hearts? And thus the idea for this fic was born.
Credit to Rapis for helping me come up with the title as well; as she pointed out, it's a play on the phrase "phantom pains," which refers to how people who are missing limbs can sometimes feel pain like the limb is still there. The dreams part of the title refers to how Sora has built up this fantasy version of Kairi in his head, and of course the phantom part is a shoutout to the Rose-Haired Phantom from FFXIII, though in this case it's the Red-Haired Phantom.
As always, thank you for reading!