When Sora looked in the mirror he didn't see a teenage boy with brown hair and a cheerful grin on a slightly round, amiable face. Instead, he saw a murderer, a liar, a thief. He saw a horrible person who killed not just the "people" who deserved the hearts they had tried so hard for but other, equal and more vital things. He had put bloodstains on Riku's hands and destroyed Kairi's innocent faith in both people and the world. He saw a vicious fiend who lied about knowing then not knowing then knowing again a girl who was just as helpless as the one he left back home. He even had the gall to go and forget about the whole ordeal only to remember later when it was too late to do much of anything to help her from ceasing to (not) exist. He stole lives and homes and lovers and best friends away from each other. He was awful to the worst degree.
The only things that really stayed with him throughout all the images were his blue eyes. Cold and hard, they glinted back at him from whatever reflective surface he happened to glance into filled with the same contempt he'd used to look down on the Nobodies and heartless alike. When he saw those eyes he thought of the person trapped within their depths and almost believed he could imagine a different, darker pair further inside glaring resentfully back at him.
He could perfectly recall the raw fear and pleading in the eyes of the ones he'd killed. Sora could even remember the absolute desperation in their eyes; frantic to be able to keep living their empty lives in the false hope that they might regain what they had lost. He could picture how the uncannily blue color reflected back at him while staring into a certain emerald green. And in the green he could see the longing for the return of their version of his Riku and Kairi. He could see every feeling and emotion however false it may have been at the time, flashing through the eyes of everyone who looked at him until he could barely stand being seen by anyone even if they were completely different people who had no idea of the tragedies he had caused.
In the end, the Keyblade chose the wrong person for the job.
Sure, he was okay with it then. He preferred moving around anyway. But it was the after that gave him trouble; all the time left in the world to sit and think and reflect on what he'd done.
Sora was almost glad when he was finally allowed to snap.
Almost. So close. Finally there. Goodbye.
