Summary: The young, the broken.

Warning: DEATH. DEATH. DEATH. There is death in this story! And I put a postive light on it, but I want to be clear, I don't think anyone should EVER submit to death, commit suicide, or kill someone else! I only wrote it this way for the mood of the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own KH. Dur dur.

They were both young, both seemingly innocent. 'Seemingly'. The fact was, in their eighteen and twenty one years, they had each seen and felt more than a person of twice their combined age. They'd stolen, they'd broken into houses and businesses, they'd seen people murdered, they'd murdered. But what choice did they have?

They lived as best they could for years and years. "It's not much of a life," Riku would say, "But it's better than none." It had been slightly too good though, that they'd gotten away with it for too long, and they were finally being faced with that fact.

A bare escape of immediate death, they sat together with only each other, as it had been their whole life, but this time bleeding and broken. They sat in the ally, unmoving for hours, the only sound; Riku mumbling comforting phrases to his obviously dying friend.

Eventually, the finally inklings of life slipped from Sora, Riku watched as it happened and he was no longer scared. As much as he had always worked to defy death, to be as far from it as possible, there was something about Sora's face as his body lay lifeless in his arms that told the man there was nothing to fear. The glassy look in the brunettes eyes, Riku would have easily mistaken for a daydream if he didn't know better.

Maybe he'd been wrong, he thought, if his life was to continue like this, especially without Sora, maybe no life was better than not having much of one.

He ran his fingers against the soft skin of Sora's face before giving in to his final tiredness. He allowed his eyes to slip closed and his mind to wander off into sleep and dreams for the last time. Beautiful colours, vivid images, and happy thoughts of what could have been. In his last moments of consciousness, though still in his dream state, Riku laughed to himself.

The best dreams of his life were the ones he would die with. Poetic irony.