Summary: "They promised that one day, they'd run away together. SoraRiku."
Pairings: RikuSora
Disclaimer: KH; not mine.
Run, Run.
Ever since they were little, Riku had always looked out for Sora.
It may have meant that Riku was often the "mother replacement", or the "party pooper", but he didn't care. He was the voice of reason that always stopped Tidus, Selphie, Sora, and sometimes even Wakka when they were getting too rowdy or rambunctious. He made sure the gang stayed within reasonable limits of safety, and that they didn't stray too far from the perimeters of their island. When the group decided to visit the islet that Sora was just so obsessed with, Riku always made sure that he went too; it didn't matter if he had a broken leg or was coughing up blood. He just wrapped his cast in a protective sheet of palm leaves and blamed the red gunk on tomato juice he drank that morning.
When Kairi arrived at the island, Riku looked after her, too. Perhaps even more so because she seemed to be so special to Sora. Because, to be honest, Riku didn't really care about what happened to the other islanders. Sure, they were friends. Everyone on the island was friends with each other. He loved the company, the companionship that came along with friendship. Through time, he had grown to love each individual, the personality behind each one of the familiar faces. He had grown up with them all; had shared so many experiences to not care about them.
Yet nothing compared to what he felt for Sora. If anything had happened to Tidus, the lithe, slender boy with the sparkling eyes and laughter, Riku would have been sad, probably would have cried himself to sleep for many nights. But nothing more than that. He wouldn't have fallen into a deep, dark depression; he wouldn't have lost his desire to live. He wouldn't have spent the rest of his life in a dark haze, searching for something that just wasn't there.
Riku needed to protect Sora no matter what, even if it was for purely selfish reasons. To best do that, he had to be close to brunet as much as possible. Wasn't it fortunate, then, that the two were best friends?
Every Sunday night, Sora and Riku would row carefully to the little islet that lay a small ways out from the island. They'd climb to the top of the small hill and just sit down, watching the darkened sky for hours at a time. Right before they left, they solemnly laced pinkies- a definitely girlish gesture, but they didn't care.
"One day, Sora, we're going to get off this island, you hear? We're going to see other worlds, real worlds, and then we'll really have grown up!"
Young Sora just nodded his head and grinned, an innocent smile slapped sloppily across his face.
One night, however, Sora changed things a bit.
Jumping up, he pulled Riku up with him. "Riku, we're going to run away together, right?"
Riku cocked his head, not comprehending.
"You know, how you always promised that one day we're going to get off the islands? We're going to do it together, right?"
Riku nodded.
"Well, we should get started!" The young brunet started hopping around and flapping his arms frantically. A small smile morphed into a full out guffaw as Riku continued to watch the dancing figure.
"What do you think you're doing, you overgrown chocobo?"
"We're going to fly, aren't we? And shouldn't we start practicing for when it's actually time to leave?"
Riku smiled at the younger boy's innocence, lightly patted down rebellious springs of unruly brown hair.
"No, silly, we're not going to fly. We're going to run." He took the bewildered child's hand in his own, and sprinted down to the area where their boat was docked.
--
Years later, Riku and Sora were separated.
Desperate months passed, each searching relentlessly for the other. With each day that passed, realizations slowly began to materialize. Riku himself was slowly going insane; the boy he had long ago sworn to protect was gone. He gradually felt himself morph into something half child, half monster, and it scared him. He needed someone, needed Sora, to find and save him.
In a blinding mist of pain, Riku realized something else. Why did he need Sora? Why, even though he was now a creature of the dark, did he have this crippling need to immerse himself in the light?
It was because the brunet held half of his heart. Back on the night of The Darkness, something had passed between the two friends. Riku's aching heart, not yet mutilated, had somehow torn itself in two and had delved deep into Sora's own. For safekeeping, Riku somehow knew. So that, somehow, the two would have to meet again.
At that moment, it was Sora's turn to protect his older guardian.
The future keyblade master already knew that he was needed.
--
Years passed, and the two were reunited. It was not a happy reunion. Keyblades clashed, sparks flew. Riku's eyes radiated real hatred. He hated Sora, hated Kairi, hated Tidus, Wakka, Selphie, hated everything that ever reminded him of the life he once held back on Destiny Islands. Sora's pretty, pretty eyes, first reflected real pain, then realization. Then neutrality.
Riku forced the form backwards, blinking at the way the limp body fell against the rock wall. Here was the boy he had once risked everything to save. What was he going to do now? Riku's half-dead heart beat feebly, responding to something resonating within the other.
Riku closed his eyes and waited for the swordsman to right himself. Held his breath as he closed, with shaking steps, the distance between himself and his attacker. And sighed as he felt his body recoil with a pain that almost destroyed him.
--
When he came to, Sora was engrossed in another battle. Riku couldn't see the face, but sensed the desperation of the situation.
Sora was ready to collapse. His body protested every forced movement, and his mouth was set in a grim line of pain. His eyes, however, showed his determination to bring his opponent down with him.
The man of shadows raised his weapons for one, final attack. Sora was vulnerable, his body too slow to deflect the attack.
His heart begging for his body to do one, last favor, Riku threw himself in front of the twin poison blades.
--
Riku was not dead. He woke up in a bed of white. The ocean was roaring outside of his windows.
He dozed off again.
--
He and Sora were on top of their hill. Sora, no longer young, no longer naive, no longer a boy, offered the same sloppy grin he did all those years ago.
A gloved hand was offered to the silver-haired protector. After ensuring that his heart was, indeed, still beating, a slightly hesitant appendage lifted to accept the offer.
Riku never did understand when Sora learned to run on water.