Contemplations: Sora

By FlikFreak

While most guys his age had to worry about girlfriends, grades, zits, chores, homework, the ball game coming up on Saturday and keeping it a secret from their parents that they really did eat that last piece of cake, Sora was one of those lucky few that had to worry about the stability and safety of the entire universe. Not that it bothered him all that much – after all, he had stated once that he wanted to see every single world out there, and even if it was just a childish fantasy at the time it had come true – but sometimes it was rather difficult. Ansem the Wise had expressed strong remorse for thrusting such a responsibility on him, even if some measures were beyond his control. Sora wanted to forgive the man, but he had remained in a stunned silence, possibly due to Roxas's still lingering grudge keeping him from acting. Still, they were the words of a dying man and it didn't take a genius to know that such words were to be heeded and respected.

Sometimes he missed those days. Going to the different worlds, seeing old friends, battling the heartless and the nobodies, smirking at locked doors because he had a key for everything…even some of the frustrations he dealt with were to be missed. There were times he had walked out of a battle with a nearly unbelievable though of, "I made it? I'm still alive?"

But there were some things he loved coming home to. His mother's cooking, while not always delicious, was something he welcomed with open arms.

He hadn't had a soda in ages, either. When he finally tasted it again, his eyes watered uncontrollably and a few nearby people asked him what was wrong, thinking he was weeping. He just shook his head and explained his situation. The adults applauded him on being healthy, and he decided not to mention that it wasn't a fitness issue; it was that he could never find any. The experience was pleasant, but Sora eventually stopped drinking soda altogether in favor of fruit juices and water.

School was difficult to adjust to. Sora hadn't found a need to conjugate Russian verbs or memorize the area of a cone while saving the galaxy, but he gave in and scribbled down notes anyway, groaning whenever the teacher called on him for an answer he barely knew. Luckily, Kairi would give him a few tips here and there, as she had been home for roughly a year being kidnapped by Axel.

The hardest part to coming home, however, had absolutely nothing to do with adjusting to normalcy. Roxas, unlike other nobodies, hadn't vanished upon giving Sora back the half of himself that had been missing. Rather, Roxas's own consciousness had remained intact, although asleep for a long while. Now that he was awake, the two had blended together so closely, Sora was starting to have a bit of difficulty discerning which feelings were his and which feelings weren't. At least he could tell the memories apart.

Sometimes, however, he felt Roxas trying to pull him aside. At first, Sora had resisted, dismissing it as something unnecessary; but when he realized that it wasn't him trying to stare longingly at the burning candles and trying to dig his toes into the sand and stare at the waves like he'd never seen them before, he went along with it without reserve. It was interesting that while Roxas was doing it because he'd never seen it before; Sora was doing it because he hadn't seen it in a long time, and beforehand he had failed to realize the preciousness in so much of what he called home.

One night, he sat back against his pillow, hands cradling the back of his head, and stared out the window. He had only seen Roxas twice: once when they had fought, and the only other time when Roxas had shown himself in a spectral form in order to speak to Naminé. If only they had gotten a chance to properly introduce themselves to one another, then maybe he'd understand this mess a bit more.

Upon thinking such a thing, however, Sora dismissed it with a foolish grin. He had made that wish ages ago, wanting to see all the worlds, and hardly got an explanation when he went to any of them. He had eventually built up a sense of adaptability so that he wouldn't need to be taught what the place he had been dumped onto was, only asking questions as he went as though he was from 'out of town.' While it wasn't foolproof, it worked for the most part. If he didn't need a lesson then, why would he need one now?

The longer he thought on it, the less Sora understood. Eventually, the questions outnumbered the answers by so much that the latter barely seemed to exist. With an amused laugh to himself, Sora rolled over in his bed and pulled the blankets up over his shoulders, leaving the window open.