The marble floor was warm. Warm with light from candles on candelabras of gold and silver, from chandeliers with glimmering crystal, warm with crowds and swaths of fabric and leather. Polished heels made rhythmic tap, tap, taps. 1, 2, 3... 1, 2, 3... People grinned from behind masks adorned with rhinestones and real stones and feathers and filigrees. Some looked like animals given a refined and graceful form, others just looked like explosions of colors that were relatively simple, yet still got the job of anonymity done.
One young man eagerly and meticulously scanned the crowd. A moon hugged his mahogany cheek and covered one golden eye while a glittering star hid the other. His long gray hair was tied back into a winsome ponytail. A silver, black and navy suit delicately embroidered with various patterns of the heavens hugged his frame with a perfect fit. His countenance was stony and cold; callous and impartial.
His gloved fingers tapped against a fan in his hands. Some trinket from some unexceptional lass in green tulle and gold silk with butterfly wings who couldn't stop laughing and had either put on too much rouge or was flustered beyond belief by the enigmatic and dashing young man. He stowed the unremarkable gift away and examined his ring, discreetly turning it around and flicking a small switch. A tiny, tiny pin popped out, sharp enough to pierce skin and lace poison with even the barest touch. A bead of liquid appeared and the young man carefully stowed the needle away before it dripped out.
He wasn't here to enjoy the party. He was here to kill the gracious host of the event. He was Xehanort, a cold and calculated assassin.
Sadly he was unable to find his target, the Prince of the Destiny Islands. He tried to remember the name. Zola? Zora? Soar? No, that was a frightfully stupid name. They all were. "You'll know him when you see him... Terribly helpful." He muttered, quoting his briefing. He missed his opportunity to be personally greeted by arriving late. Sloppy, sloppy work. Now he had to pin down the boy by other means.
"You look dismal."
Xehanort glanced slightly down at a boy who had pulled up next to him. A crown of messy and slightly spiked caramel hair poked over and behind his mask. It looked like he had a rising sun on his face, carved from gold and blue enamel set with rubies against clouds of swan feathers. A rather ornate and expensive little mask. The suit was much more drab- a subdued summer blue with soft white edging in a very simple cut.
Xehanort tugged idly at the cuff of his jacket, "I find the whole situation droll and vapid."
The boy giggled at the remark, "Why'd you even come then?"
"Business. Politics." Xehanort replied with a wave of his hand, "That insubstantial fluff."
The boy shrugged, "I don't think anyone would be offended if you didn't come."
Xehanort idly examined his ring, "I'd rather be safe than sorry." He took the opportunity to add, "I actually arrived late. Do you think you could direct me to his highness so I could introduce myself?"
The boy laughed. He shook his head, "Oh come now, you don't have to do that. We aren't that stiff." Xehanort sighed. No lead. The boy held out his hand. "Care for a dance?" Xehanort eyed it warily. Did he have time to waste on such frivolities?
The boy's eyes were very large and very persuading. His hand hovered expectantly, waiting with baited breath as if everyone he had asked all night said "no".
"... Very well then," Xehanort figured he could get a better look at the crowd anyways , "I suppose I do."
The boy dragged him along, and soon the two were bowing as the orchestra struck up the next song in the queue. It was a light, airy waltz that seemed dainty and childish. Their feet matched the rhythm and the steps perfectly, but their mouths barred idle chit chat for a long time. Xehanort saw no one who could be the prince. Nobles almost looked all the same to him, honestly. Pompous, arrogant, flaunting their riches in a meaningless competition.
"What's the tune?" He asked after an eternity.
"I believe it's called the Waltz of the Insects." The boy said, "I hear the composer was inspired by a young girl who said she was the princess of the bug kingdom in some far off land."
Xehanort scoffed, "I suppose she didn't know that kingdom had more than one definition."
"I think the thought is rather endearing." The boy said, "People never really like bugs much even if they do many things for us and our society."
"Thinking you're the ruler of a swarm of insects is brainless." Xehanort replied.
He made a quick advance, and the boy followed his steps as if he had anticipated it from the start. They held out their arms to slowly twirl on the dance floor, forearm to forearm with their hands pointing at the frescoes and chandeliers above. Xehanort toyed with the dance some more, improvising and fussing with the steps to see how good this boy could keep up. To Xehanort's surprise he kept up perfectly.
"You're very good." The boy complimented, "Both in dancing skill and in looks."
"Thank you...?" Xehanort didn't know exactly how to respond. He suddenly found himself trapped by that sapphire gaze behind the sun. "Normally it's the women who praise me. They've come up to me in throngs of shallow tittering all night."
"Well, you should appreciate that a lot of people like you. I mean, you weren't dancing with any of them anyways, at least respect their opinions of you." They switched out forearms and continued their dance. The boy shrugged, "Besides, on the topic of women complimenting you, I think anyone can compliment anyone else on how they look. Regardless of who you're interested in, I do think you look quite nice."
"I dress to impress." Xehanort remarked. He then smirked, and decided he might as well have some fun while he was on the job. "Are you saying you're not a skirt chaser?"
The boy's cheeks burned at the very insinuation, "I-I think love crops up in a lot of ways. I have yet to find it but I probably will have it someday."
Xehanort couldn't stop his snide grinning, "Very well then, but don't expect to keep it in your arms. It's very slippery. Capricious, too. A force more untamable than any other."
"I know that." The boy was suddenly very curt and dry. His sunrise looked like a sunset.
The waltz ended. It seemed too long and too short all at once. Xehanort bowed, once again seeing if he could find anyone who could be the prince. The boy seemed to be unaffected by the brisk dance, even if a bead of sweat rolled down his face. In fact he seemed even more chipper, more energized.
He held out his hand, "A-another?" Xehanort wondered how much time he could really waste on this boy. Time he could be spending with his target. The boy playfully begged, "Oh come on, it's just one more dance."
Xehanort teased, "Can't you dance with anyone else?"
The boy looked at the floor, "W-well... It's like they all have left feet compared to you."
Against his better judgement Xehanort took the boy's hand. They began a steady walk through this new piece, something slower to help the guests get their nerves down or a chance to rest. The boy surprisingly took up what was typically reserved for women, letting one hand rest on Xehanort's waist. "I hope you don't mind." He mumbled.
"Not at all, really." Xehanort shrugged it off. It was the boy's honor, not his. What did he care? On a whim he twirled the boy. He laughed. It was rich and full of happiness.
When the boy resumed his normal position, he asked, "Who are you? I should know the name of my amazing dance partner." Xehanort hesitated. The boy shook his head with an admonishing chuckle, "Come on, I can't get a good look at your face under that mask. Knowing just your name won't help me."
"Why would I give away the surprise?" Xehanort quickly played off that angle.
"What if I want to find you again?" The boy asked, "When you're done searching?"
Xehanort silently swore. He didn't think it was that obvious. "... Dysmas. My name is Dysmas." He reluctantly divulged after deciding the boy wouldn't settle for letting him go without a name.
"Well, Dysmas," the boy mused, "what are you looking for?"
"A 'who', actually." He spun the boy again. Maybe that would stir him up into forgetting the tangent.
"Sister? Brother? Family? Friend?" The boy continued asking. So many questions. "I want to help you."
Xehanort's turn to laugh, "Why?"
The boy held his hand in a different matter; less a partner and more concerned. The words that tumbled out were much different and yet so similar in concern, "I want to keep dancing with you."
Xehanort looked into the crowd a moment. He really couldn't find anyone. No one really matched his target. He could feel the slightest thrum of poison swishing around in his ring. Almost in time to the beat. Adorable.
"What's your name?" He broke off the topic for a different one, "I've given you mine."
The boy huffed, but he seemed content to let the mysterious mission of his partner go. "Call me... Asher." He quipped.
Asher. A cute name for an endearing young man that held a certain small strength to it. Short, to the point. Ashes- the namesake -weren't a pleasant thing, though. Ashes implied something had been lost. It was probably a fake identity, anyways, judging by the hesitation, but Xehanort didn't want to be a hypocrite. Not this time.
"Well, Asher," he said, "you have an awful lot of questions."
Asher shrugged, "I'm a curious kid, I've always been told that."
"Curiosity kills..." Xehanort warned.
Asher seemed to shrug that off, as well, "Only in some cases." He seemed to be made of rubber.
Xehanort pressed down a little harder. This could get Asher here off his back. "In more than you imagine."
Once again the dance seemed to be forever and only seconds. Over in a blink yet hours long. Xehanort backed away to resume his search, but Asher's grip tightened. "Please?" He asked, "Stay with me?" Even with trying to repulse him the puppy just wandered ever closer.
Xehanort had already let go but the grip on his hand was cold iron. "I do need to find-"
"Let me help you-"
"I'd rather-"
"Friend? Family? Lover? Who is it?"
"Asher, please-"
"I'm good with people."
Xehanort sighed. He tapped Asher's wrist, "Very well. You can accompany me, you persistent little boy." Asher let go and walked up next to Xehanort. "But I'm not dancing anymore." He gave a warning hiss.
"I'm good with that." Asher said. He elbowed Xehanort with a grin, "You can change your mind later, anyways." Xehanort rolled his eyes.
He kept his true reasons for finding someone close to his chest, so Asher guided him through the individual crowds and clusters of dancers. He kindly asked if anyone recognized "Dysmas" (too many people laughed at this) or if "Dysmas" recognized anyone (also too many laughs). No one really seemed to know.
Asher clammed up when they met a similar group doing the same. A young girl-most likely the same age as the prince -with long red hair in a slightly unflattering shade of pink and a rosy mask. "Please," she begged them, "do you know where the prince is?"
"We've lost him." Her only slightly older companion of silver hair added. His sharp turquoise eyes were hidden behind a blindfold lined with silver with somewhat ineffective eye holes cut out. He then held out his hand to Xehanort, his sentence elevating them from friends or common fanatics to something much more, "I'm Riku, his bodyguard. This is Her Highness Princess Kairi of Radiant Garden. His fiancée." The sword at his side proved that at least half right.
Asher shrugged. Xehanort shook his head.
Riku cursed under his breath. His hands reached up to rub his temples. Poor young man. One job- one very important job -and he had blown it. Made Xehanort's much easier, on the other hand. "He told me he'd be wearing a dolphin mask!" Xehanort glanced at Asher. The "clouds" on his suit looked like whitecaps of the sea in that light.
"I haven't seen a single dolphin all evening." Xehanort told him.
"Neither have we." Kairi sighed. She pulled out a fan and flapped it around haphazardly while her other hand shook her skirt. With one glance at Asher, they then rushed off to see more people.
Xehanort finally noticed Asher relaxing. "Are you well?" He asked.
"I'm fine, Dysmas." Asher said, "Just in the presence of very important people. It was worrying."
"Surely you've been raised to interact with nobility." Xehanort commented while they continued sweeping through the crowd. They had competition, though, which if they lost the prince...
"Still an anxious moment for me." Asher nervously laughed to emphasize this, "I mean, they personally knew His Highness." He then morosely added, "They lost him, too..." Yes, it was a very bad moment for this kingdom. Then it would only get worse, depending on whether or not who found him first.
"Do you think that whoever you're looking for is in the gardens?" Asher asked, "It is very stuffy in here, after all. Some really need cool night air to get a break from this..."
Xehanort figured it was worth a shot, "Very well then. We can check there." He was caught off-guard when Asher swept him into another dance. He scowled, trapped by social confines in 3/4 time, "You tricked me."
"We will go to the garden, promise." Asher reassured him, "Just wanna squeeze in one more dance." He flashed a grin. The corners hid under Asher's mask, but it was nonetheless a handsome smile. Xehanort sternly reminded himself he was here to kill, not enjoy pleasurable company. Then again he still didn't know what the prince looked like. Well, he wasn't wearing a dolphin mask, that much was evident.
"His Highness... Are you sure you met him?" Xehanort asked.
"You're awfully interested in the prince." Asher replied warily.
"Trying to make idle chit chat." Xehanort lied. "Was his outfit even more garish than that one young man who is posing as a giraffe?"
Asher laughed. He then shook his head while they dipped with the decrescendo, "No. No I'd say he's one of the tamer outfits here."
Xehanort nodded. Whatever information he could get was vital. He started up a small game, "Colors?"
Asher rolled his eyes but played along, "Blue, mostly."
That narrowed it down a little more, "What else?"
"A little gold, a little white."
Good. Very good. "Animal or abstract?"
"Little of both."
Xehanort developed the most deadpan look in the room, "Excuse me?"
Asher elaborated, "Not exactly abstract since he does have a theme and it's not just splashes of color or some kind of emotion."
"But is it alive?" Xehanort asked.
"Nah."
"Then it's abstract." He ran down the list in his head: predominantly blue, highlights of gold and white, abstract theme. Considerably narrowed list. Asher was on it. No, no, it couldn't be Asher. Too simple minded. It was adorable but not an admirable trait in a ruler. Xehanort sighed, did he really just admit Asher was adorable? He was, though. Maybe Xehanort could come back and find him some other day.
The dance ended with Asher guiding Xehanort right out into the garden. "Told you I'd take you here." He said. Upon noting the empty space he added, "And there's more garden than this, okay? We might need to delve a little further to find whoever you're looking for."
As they lied, a thought came to Xehanort. "Did the prince even receive his guests? His bodyguard and fiancée lost him..."
"He didn't, actually." Asher remarked, "But he did drift around in the crowd and chatted with me."
"Interesting." Xehanort's reply was distant as he observed moonflowers uncurling to bathe in silver light. Such frail little things, but so beautiful. It was only the two of them here to observe it.
"Can we rest?" Asher asked, "We've been walking and dancing all evening since we met..." They found a perfect marble bench to sit on. It was wreathed by a weeping willow, but still had a perfect view of the moon over the castle. Asher leaned forward with his head in his hands, eyes closed and resting.
He lifted his head at the music that wafted from the ballroom. He smiled, then stood and began swaying with the waltz on his own. "This is from Swan Lake, I think." He commented. Asher continued dancing with an imaginary partner, adding, "Jump in if you want."
Xehanort chuckled and shook his head. He clapped to the rhythm when he found it, and Asher smiled even wider. His dance turned from following an imaginary partner to a solo flailing of limbs driven by pure enjoyment. Xehanort actually laughed, and Asher fell onto the bench right next to him chortling hard enough to make Xehanort's laugh look like a snort.
Still trying to get his breathing under control, Asher sighed and leaned his head against Xehanort's shoulder. A sweet little smile crept onto his face. Xehanort glanced at his accidental companion, "You're awfully close." Asher made a small noise in his throat and abruptly scooted away from leaning on Xehanort's shoulder. His hands fumbled in his lap, trying to find something to do.
Xehanort suddenly understood what Asher was thinking. He needed to distance himself. NOW. He scathingly said, "If you admire me, you're making a mistake."
Asher made a bitter chuckle. "Ah..." He mumbled, "a little late for that..."
"You can't be serious." Xehanort groaned. He fell forward into his hands, running them over the grooves and ridges of his mask. No. No, no, no this was a horrible mistake.
"I-I'm sorry-"
"No, I am." There was going to be so much heartbreak. This poor boy was collateral damage that could leave a nasty mark on his escape after the deed was done. What if he used the rejection as a motivation to turn him in? And Asher had plenty of time to learn his voice and some of his features...
"Listen, Dysmas..." Xehanort shifted from two hands to one, watching Asher warily with one eye. What more bombshells we're going to fall from his lips? Asher rubbed his palm with his thumb. He gently raised his hands to his mask, and delicately held it, "I haven't been entirely truthful to you tonight."
He removed the sun on his face.
A few more unruly spikes of brown hair sprang free. His eyes looked wide and innocent, and perhaps an even more poignant blue. They were settled on cheeks that still had a puff of baby fat on them, with dimples showing in his bittersweet smile. "My name... My name's not Asher." Big surprise. A real shocker. Xehanort was so obviously floored. Who would've thought that the name he gave with hesitation wasn't his real name? The love reveal was honestly much more a surprise, since the boy was so social with everyone it was slightly harder to pick up.
"I... I really am interested in continuing our relationship." Not-Asher continued. "Like... My mom and dad always believed in love at first sight. I think I found it with you." Xehanort scoffed. Such a stupid belief. In truth, he just thought so because the very same had happened. The boy was already burned too deep into his heart. He had already imprinted on him, enjoyed his company. Not-Asher spoke up again, "And if you do think we can have... I dunno, another date or something... You should know my name."
There was a deep pause to catch his breath.
"It's Sora."
Xehanort stood upright. Sora. Sora Sora Sora. He knew that name. He knew that name just where did he-
"Yeah. Crown Prince and all that bunk." Sora murmured. His voice had a dejected lilt to it, as if he was already full of regret.
Oh no.
Xehanort flatlined. He stared at Sora. His face was actually much more handsome than his mask could ever imply. An odd and handsome mix of teenhood and early adulthood, still being young but still having a refined sense of age. His eyes were dazzling and unreal with the amount of emotion expressed in the blue depths.
Oh NO.
Sora sighed in frustration and swore at himself, "You've done it now, durian head! You've done it now! You've actually found love and you've blown it!" He flicked a hand at Xehanort, "You're in awe, shock, whatever. You can't believe I'm the prince and you're SO worried you've insulted me."
He reached out for Xehanort, abandoning his mask, "Please, I just wanted a night where I could be me. My fiancée..." He sighed again, "Kairi- Kairi's nice. Really nice. But I don't love her. I mean capital 'L' love, love her. It was a stupid arranged marriage where my parents assumed that because we were friends we'd make a great couple!" He hugged himself, "Doesn't always work like that... A-and Riku's too stoic for my tastes. He has trouble knowing when to have fun."
Sora looked at Xehanort, pleading. "But you... You're grounded but you also know how to lighten up. You're the best of them both. Can we just... Can we just at least give it a shot?"
Xehanort cringed. His ring seemed awfully tight on his finger, and he hoped it would stab him. How long ago was it when he imagines running his hand over that cheek and down his neck with a simple cut being all it took to kill? Only hours. Hours he had spent with the right person for all the wrong reasons.
"D-Dysmas?" Sora whispered, "Please, you haven't done anything. You've been completely silent. Say something."
Xehanort rapidly stood, dodging Sora's outstretched hand. He stiffly bowed, "I-I have to go." Mission aborted. Mission failed. Miserably, at that.
He turned to leave, and Sora's hand shot out to grab him again, "Dysmas-"
"I have to go." Xehanort repeated. His voice cracked. His flight was hindered by Sora clinging to his wrist. He tried pulling away, but Sora wouldn't let go. "Get off me!" He snapped.
Sora was begging, "Please, don't go-"
"I JUST HAVE TO!"
Sora finally let go at the yell. The echo of Xehanort's footsteps stopped. Xehanort's stride slowed to a crawl, and stopped. He looked back at Sora. The prince was sitting there, eyes now wide with hints of shock and betrayal and loss. They also reflected the moonlight a little too well...
Sora finally lowered his hand. His fists balled at his side. "W-why?" He asked. "Y-you really can't... It can't be that bad of a reason!"
"Oh it can be." Xehanort was shaking his head. It was terrible enough already. He looked down at his ring. The gem was a vile sickly green peridot. The silver was cold against his finger. He looked back at Sora, who had advanced a few feet. He held up his hand, "No further!"
Sora stopped. He then went right back to advancing, "Dysmas-"
"SORA I SAID NO FURTHER!" Xehanort roared. It felt so guilty to have Sora's name roll past his lips for the first time like that.
Sora took a step back. He looked hurt beyond belief.
They both turned their heads when they heard running. "Who-" Sora managed to say before Riku burst into the clearing.
He lunged at Sora, "Your Highness! I've been looking for you all night!" Sora let Riku pat him down and take his temperature and countless other small pieces of doting. Riku glared at Xehanort, "You, you were with him earlier, weren't you?!"
Sora dryly said, "Who didn't recognize me earlier?"
Riku now glared at Sora. It softened into an apologetic look. "Y-yeah..." He mumbled. He then protested, "If you said something I would've-"
"You should've known who I was without me having to say a thing." Sora snapped. He walked between Riku and Xehanort, "And you know what? I'm fine. Go enjoy the party with Kairi."
"But who is this?!" Riku gestured to Xehanort. "Did you just-"
"His name is Dysmas." Sora sauntered up to Xehanort's side, "And yes I did meet him tonight because I got to be with people without them revering my every step." He looked at Xehanort, "A-and I like him." Realizing he had put pressure on Xehanort, he backed up, "B-but he has yet to give me any solid answer-"
"I've been saying go away." Xehanort hissed. This situation was becoming a horrible trainwreck.
"That sounds like a 'no' to me." Riku said. He drew his sword, delicately placing the tip on Xehanort's chest, "So please leave the prince be."
"Riku!" Sora yelled.
Riku's eyes were narrowed in irritation, "Sora, I don't trust him-"
"A reasonable judgement." Xehanort interjected as he backed up. He had to leave. Sora was lovely, darling, definitely a route he wanted to continue, but the situation was getting too horrible. Maybe some moonlit escapades under his window were in store.
Riku kept advancing, "Ok, so you lied to me-"
"Riku he didn't know!" Sora's voice had gained an alarming vibrato.
"And you've dragged Sora to this secluded spot-"
"That was my idea Riku! Now let him go!"
Riku tried to look at Sora without taking his eyes off of Xehanort, but soon after tore off his mask in frustration, "Who's idea was it to have a masquerade?!" He watched Sora a moment before saying in a gentler tone, "Sora your little adventure has scared the living daylight out of me-"
Sora got in Riku's face, "Well maybe I can learn to handle myself if I'm not being watched every second!"
While they argued, Xehanort backed away. Riku's sword hovered where he used to be, thankfully distracted by his charge. He could make a smooth getaway-
The sword was at his throat now, "Hold up. I didn't say you could go."
Sora had a surprisingly good 'regal decree' voice, "As Crown Prince I declare that you may leave, Dysmas." Xehanort turned around with a thankful nod and began walking away. His hand hovered on his throat. Too close. Way too close-
"Hold on." Riku spoke up, "As I was about to say, there isn't a 'Dysmas' on the guest list."
"What?!" Sora exclaimed.
Xehanort turned around with a silent swear.
Sora spoke up for him again, "W-well, I didn't tell him my name at first! He thought it was Asher!"
"Asher?" Riku scoffed.
"Yes. Asher." Sora said, "And if I wasn't comfortable giving my name what if he wasn't comfortable giving his?" Sora lowered Riku's sword, "Riku, come on, you're just stressed-"
"You're lovesick and on the border of an affair. Adultery." Riku told him, "You can't afford to act like this. Not when you and Kairi are already betrothed."
"We haven't actually made the commitment yet." Sora protested, "And I don't want to make it-"
"I understand Your Highness, but duty before-"
"I know, but who says that this couldn't be a better opportunity?!"
Once again squabbling. Xehanort once again backed away. Slowly, carefully. He needed to escape without notice-
"HALT." Riku stopped him again, pressing that blade in dangerously hard. "Remove the mask, give me your name." He ordered.
Xehanort's hands went up to the mask. Sora continued protesting, "Riku this is borderline harassment-"
"We don't know who he is, likely uninvited, and he could've hurt you very easily." Riku said. "I just want to keep you safe, Sora."
Sora let go a little, "I know, but..." He looked at Xehanort.
Xehanort watched him carefully. He wasn't in a position to not listen to Riku's request, but he could take his sweet time. He took off the mask, "You've likely heard of me."
"Not a name." Riku hissed.
Xehanort looked right into Sora's precious blue eyes. "I... Have no name."
"Ridiculous." Riku demanded, "Give me your name. Your parents have probably been saying it since you were little."
Xehanort did a quick calculation. He then addressed Sora, "Listen, I haven't been truthful to you either. And... I do... admire you." Sora smiled a smile much more gorgeous than any other that had been witnessed. Xehanort paused to admire Sora while he could. He said, "Which means I should trust you with my name."
Xehanort took a deep breath and unswitched the blade in his ring, "It's Xehanort."
Riku's eyes turned wide for only a moment before Xehanort made an attempt to kill him. Riku swung. Xehanort blocked it with his mask. Sora was in shock for only a moment before he tried getting between the two, "Wait! W-wait please-"
He was shoved back by Riku, "Your Highness! It's not safe for you!"
Xehanort grabbed Riku's blade and tried diverting it. Riku pressed the edge into Xehanort's palm. Xehanort suddenly let go and Riku ended up lunging forward. Sora was screaming for them to stop. Xehanort needed only one strike with his ring. Riku needed only one with his sword. Riku's sword brushed his side, tearing the fabric and drawing first blood. Riku attempted to make another stab. Xehanort sidestepped it at the first thought.
The blade went right through Sora.
Riku paled. Sora clutched the sword, gasping for air that would never reach his lungs. A clatter rang through the courtyard as Riku let go of the handle in horror and Sora fell to his knees. Xehanort caught the prince and held him while Riku tried to process what he just did.
Xehanort rocked Sora, "Sora? Sora listen to me everything will be alright-" Xehanort stopped to cringe at the inelegant gibberish that tumbled out of Sora's lips with ruby droplets. He caressed Sora's cheek, "It's fine, it's fine I can-" he stopped at a glint.
He pulled his ringed hand back in mute dread.
He looked at Sora's cheek.
A red line.
"Oh no..." Xehanort whispered.
The moon was reflected in Sora's eyes. Too bright, too large. It made them shine with a quiet agony. Tears spilled over. Sora convulsed and twitched ever so slightly, and then stilled. "No... No... No..." Xehanort didn't know what else to say.
Riku's senses went from duller than river pebbles to sharper than steel. He grabbed Xehanort, letting Sora's dead body fall to the ground while he screeched, "YOU KILLED HIM!"
"I-I did not-" Xehanort mumbled before Riku punched him right out of his grasp.
Xehanort rubbed his jaw and supported himself on one arm. He looked up at Riku, who had now taken his sword back. He scrambled back when Riku put the blade right up to his neck. "You killed him! You killed him quit acting sorry it was all according to plan-"
Xehanort carefully shook his head, "I-I didn't mean this-" he rolled away when Riku struck.
Riku threw himself down to pin Xehanort and lifted his sword high. His features were contorted in a wordless rage that guided tears down his cheeks in rivulets. "You killed him...!" Riku's voice was choked and hissing. "You killed him!"
Paying more attention to the sword above him (which wasn't hard considering it was dripping the blood of Sora onto him) Xehanort lifted his hand. They both struck. Riku got Xehanort right through his stomach. Xehanort managed to pierce Riku's jugular.
Riku fell on top of Xehanort with a small noise, then silence and stillness. His fingers gripped the hilt of his sword in their muscle's last memory. It was a quick death.
Xehanort was slightly less fortunate. Pinned to the ground and unable to do anything except sit there and bleed life away. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. Trying to ignore that, he looked at Sora. The boy's eyes were so dull, so pained, so lifeless, as they stared ahead. His hand shook, but he managed to reach out to squeeze the lifeless fingers.
"I'm sorry..." He whispered.
His eyes blinked once, then stopped halfway through a second.
"I..."
A waltz tip-toed through the garden in a steady beat of three.
1.
2.
End.
HELP ME I DON'T KNOW IF I'M INSANE OR NOT BUT I'M DEFINITELY IN OTP HELL