Heh... I'm back (Insert confused face as everyone runs for cover). I'm very deprived of sleep because of all the random crap I've been inking, so I apologize if my note section is lacking.
This is a random scene that I wrote recently; random, being, it had no relation to any other piece I've written thus far. It also doesn't derive straight from the KH plotlines either. I have been experimenting with romance writing for a while now, but usually only related to Riku. However, while flipping through my collected picture binder, I stopped at a picture of Riksem. No real reason, just stopped. After looking at him for a while, I started analyzing his heart. This is what I got out of it, so hopefully, I don't disappoint anyone.
The introduction and "rants" were not part of the original draft, however, I OD'd on Evanescence and couldn't stop my fingers once they fired up. I personally like them, as they represent personal views that I have towards others when it comes to Riku. I find them beneficial to this story and hope you can begin to understand my connection with my silver-haired muse. I want any and all feedback with this story. This is the first time I've attempted something so indepth, and I could really use criticism as well as praise (if I get that...). Oh, and I decided to slit my wrists of sanity by taking on the task of describing the physical appearance of Riksem. People keep telling me not to call an institution. Can anyone figure out why I shouldn't?
Sole thanks goes to Zanisha. First off, the title of the story and end sentence of the italicized intro was completely inspired from "Tarnished Simplicity", one of her newest and best pieces of work. These elements are actually from her story, so I encourage those who haven't, to read it. And no glares; I asked Zanisha for permission on those elements beforehand. Secondly, her heart-capturing words within "Tarnished Simplicity" and "Misplaced" internally inspired so much; this is an author who truly understands the face beneath the mask of lies. I only hope I can accomplish 1/10th of her insight with this story.
6 weeks… If I had to give an estimate, I'd say this began six weeks ago. It was just like any other day to start…
I awakened in the same Bastion that I had appeared in a few days prior. No recollection of my sudden environment transfer, though I suppose anything is better than a battlefield of victims… Not to mention, I didn't really care. Why should I? No family, no friends, no home; an empty Bastion offers nothing and takes nothing away…
Aimlessly wandered for a while, wondering if anything had changed. I had nothing else to do…
That strange heart-shaped gateway had been intimidating right from day one. I couldn't figure out its purpose…if it even had one to begin with. A golden archway resembling a large heart; the path beyond it marked by a miasmic array of splashed colour. But there was no way through, a barrier of electricity seeming to guard it. And no amount of chants (or curses, whichever you prefer) or prodding ever weakened it…
So…imagine my surprise when this battle weary boy suddenly fell out of this bizarre gateway and landed on top of me. What didn't make sense? Nothing else followed him through, though he was clearly wounded from a fresh battle…
He awoke a few days later, though it took at least another two weeks to learn more than just his name. He kept to himself as though anything he said would be a violation of some imaginary law. Cold and distant are the only words I can think to use, though being a victim of reality's "joys" made me want to breach the barrier of why.
What a hell chore that was; angered yells and stifling silence being the main forms of communication for quite some time. But since the gate seemed to have re-locked itself and the rest of the place is surrounded by empty nothingness, he had little choice as to an action plan. Eventually, he caved, through much resistance, and began admitting pieces of his past…
I'm not going to deny that as I began to understand him, I also began to develop feelings towards him as well. Not that I'm an expert in that fairy tale category, but I can't brush off the truth; my heart doesn't care what darkness his holds. But admittance comes at a high price, as we both soon learn…
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Did you ever find someone whose heart rejects itself? Torn down by a past that, despite its pain, was likely destined to occur? Someone, whose eyes are shadowed and cold, void and hateful of the light, though as equally despised with the darkness… Someone trapped in a personal hell, surrounded by lies and hatred; blackened by regrets of an innocent mistake…
Did you ever find someone that constantly pushes you away; sometimes in bitterness, others: as a claim of safety? Someone who loathes the darkness within him, and yet, uses it as a shield to protect himself? From? He won't tell you…won't look at you or hold you? And yet, for some reason, his heart cries for understanding, for forgiveness…for love?
But if you don't listen…you won't hear his cries. If you don't try and reach out to him…you won't feel his pain and the longing to make it end…
And if you don't look past the soulless aqua that his eyes deceive with at first…you'll never find the warmth that lies deep within…
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The Candle Within the Ice…
"I'm sorry, Misty…but this…it can't…" He trails off again, his voice almost unable to continue. The regret and pain in his words are thick and heavy, like a pressing blanket…suffocating… Emotion burns beneath my cheeks, wanting to fall forever…for him…
His eyes prove this the best; if he were ever happy, it was easily torn away, his innocence destroyed, his soul stolen from salvation. But still, I don't know why… I don't understand…
"Yes…it can. I don't care about the past if that's what's bothering you. Please…don't push me away…" I cling to him harder, my fingers practically merging into the black fabric of his muscle shirt. My head is down; instead of my chin on his shoulder, my cheek tearfully presses against the top of his sternum. I can feel his hesitation as he holds me tightly for a moment longer before pulling away. Despite the struggle I put up, he easily shoves me away.
"You don't know the past I speak of, Misty. You don't…want to know…" He refuses to look into my eyes now. Shame? Doesn't want to see my emotions? Doesn't want me to see his? A chilling combination of all three? I know he's hurting inside, but I won't give up on him either. Not ever. And his constant attempts to get rid of me are not only painful, they're insulting.
"Don't tell me what I do and don't want! I'm not one of those stupid creatures that you can just shove aside and abandon. I care about you, and I'm not just going to leave and forget!" The shaking in my body filters into my voice and makes it that much harder to sound convincing, but I won't surrender this matter. The burning in my cheeks grows worse, but I fight back the blurry vision; I can't let the tears fall or I will snap…
"You have to! You know nothing of my past; you can't possibly comprehend the hell I've put so many people through and I won't let it happen to you!" His sudden response knocks me slightly off guard, thinking he would fall silent and respond after a minute or something.
He's facing me, but his eyes only "see" my face, our vision not connecting. His words don't make me feel understanding towards his intentions; they just further my anger. He's not even giving me a chance, like my feelings mean nothing. The burning becomes a dull, numbing pain, but I can't release them… Not yet…
"Don't insult my intelligence with this kindness crap! You don't want me to go through hell? What do you think this is, a sugar puff dream? If you walk off on me, sure as hell I'll suffer more than you could ever fathom!" I know I had hit him hard that time, his entire body flinching like I had struck him with lightning. A stinging regret for my words stabs at my heart, but it's the truth. I know he doesn't want me to get hurt, but this is already more painful than a life of darkness and I won't let it destroy the rest of my life. I'll face the future, but not without him.
I start to move towards him again, swallowing back my emotions still. He doesn't react until my right hand comes up, my fingers grazing his pale cheek, though his reaction is something neither of us seems to expect… Well…one that I don't expect…
His left hand wraps around my wrist so tightly, I wouldn't be surprised if every bone broke. He whips around, slamming me against the dark wall of the hateful Bastion. My other hand is swiftly pinned like my captive one, both level with my pounding skull. A sharp gasp is torn from my chest on impact, my entire body exploding with pain. Daggers shoot through my head and despite my urge to stay strong; I can feel myself falter under his violent grip, my entity slumping against the stone structure.
"Cut this pathetic shit! You think this is hell? You have no damn clue what pain feels like and I guarantee you'll learn very fast if I stay! You haven't seen my true form! You haven't seen what I've done! You don't know! You understand nothing! You can't understand!"
Because of my positioning, his voice screamed into the top of my head, into my scattered hair, but it feels like it really had been straight to my face. As his voice grew in intensity, so did the pressure on my wrists. Everything in me cries with pain and with every syllable, it just got worse…
But every pulse of anguish dulls to mere background static to me. My entire body numbs over, reminding me of a piercing wave splashing upon my entity. A heavy silence falls between us, save for the hollow echoes of his agonized words. But for several minutes, all I can hear in those reverberations, is the true nature of his voice. He may have been yelling in anger and desperation, but all I could hear was his pain, his hate and his tears…
Maybe I don't know his past, but my heart can sure as hell feel it with every note that left his trembling lips. His breathing is heavy and angry now, and he leans into my wrists harder, crushing them against the wall. But despite everything that had just happened, my heart remains strangely clam and focused; steady beyond definition. But…it…it hurt… Physical pain faded into nothingness then, but that one thing inside of me started to cry, a chain reaction not far behind…
"But…I…I want to…" The voice that leaves my lips sounds so foreign to me, and yet, I recognize it so well. My past has been laced with tears and lined with pain, so the feeling is not unfamiliar. But I have never heard it like this before…Never like this…
It affects him…maybe… more so than myself. His entire demeanor seems to alter drastically, the sensation rippling through his body like a stone cast into an innocent pond. I can feel the tremble transfer from him to me; its true nature is hard to describe. But I…can tell…its mostly shock and realization.
His harsh grip begins to loosen and I can hear his heart begin to sound erratic. Why I can hear it…I don't know… Maybe it's just my imagination…
Through many shaking breaths, I can hear my name whispered. And as though it were waiting to hear it, my head slowly tilts up to face him.
"You're right, Riku… I don't understand anything… I know nothing of you or what you've done… I don't know what your true form is…" I finally find his eyes. If he tried to divert them, he was too slow and he can't tear them away from mine at this point. I don't need a mirror to know what I must look like right now. I can feel the tears stroking my cheeks and if his were some typical anime, I'm sure they'd be shimmering from the small amount of light this room holds. A few fall from my cheeks while others continue down my neck, but they have all stemmed from one factor…one reason…
"But…I…I can't understand unless you show me… I'm not some mystique who can call images into a crystal at random. I can't know what you keep hidden from me…locked in your heart… I can't find the key unless you trust me… Please…tell me…Riku…" His eyes are almost frozen in regret, his previous actions just starting to register to him. The pain grows stronger and my tears show no sign of surrender…
"Help me understand you…" My shaking voice has become no more than a whisper, but it seems to hold the force of a strike across the face. My eyes catch why and grow that much more pained. His realization of his "attack" seems to hit instantly and whatever anguish he felt prior appears to triple…at least that's what his eyes reveal…
His hands drop from where they held mine prisoner, shaking and falling regretfully to his sides. He wavers back, away from me a little, his eyes filling with fear at what I can only think to call his loss of control. Control of what though, I wonder? His sanity…his mind…his soul…his heart…? Each consideration brings stabs to my chest…
His hands convulse now, the tremble traveling into his voice as he stammers out my name, attempting to apologize feverishly. I catch the bluish tints beginning to form on my wrists as I reach up to clear my face of emotion, and shake my head solemnly. I don't want an apology, and he owes me nothing. This is my choice…
After a heavy silence of a pained stalemate between emotions, he grows still and his face fights acceptance of what he's about to do. He doesn't speak, but backs up a few steps, casting a gap between us. I remain on the wall, despite my want to comfort him. I'm sure I know his decision, and if I'm correct, I'll have that chance soon…
His gloved hands clench so tightly, I fear the bones will shatter. A violent shaking begins again in his fists and soon, vibrates into his arms. His eyes close and the amount of pain he displays is a hollow reflection of what he must actually feel. A piercing blue light begins to glow at the center of his chest while a circle of darkness appears at his feet. A dark aura bursts from that ring of shadows, spreading the beryl glow over his entire body. The severe miasma is overpowering, and soon, the sapphire luminescence intensifies, becoming blinding. I'm forced to look away, my bruising appendage rising to shield my sight. But I can hear his pain, a repressed, but agonizing scream as the transformation makes its hell known.
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Soon, the aura dies away and my agonized paladin falls silent. My pulsing hand falls back to my side, and I prepare to face what this tortured boy had labeled his true form. He still doesn't speak, so I trust my heart's assurance beat to inform me to open my eyes. He has angled his face down, casting his silvery strands over his eyes and throwing his entire countenance into darkness. But I don't need to see his face to feel his hatred and disgust…
At first glance, this appearance is quite frightening. An actual description is impossible to create, though I suppose it would still be as chilling as anything left up to the imagination…
His entire upper body looks like the skin had been viciously torn away, leaving a complex weaving of veins strewn over his entity. His fingertips are electric blue; his forearms, blood red and the rest is chillingly obsidian. A tattered cloth hangs brokenly from his waist, powdery blue streaks splashed upon the jagged edges; an "X" shaped buckle connects the torn ivory fabric in front of his black veined thighs. The whitish colour almost seems out of place on this evil transformation, but the thought of torn emotions and tattered innocence delivers a harsh blow of irony within the depths of my darkened heart.
Finishing off base appearance are his pastel navy boots, which rise to his knees. They stand dauntingly, despite their plain appearance compared to the rest of him.
A blackened Heartless symbol lay bared on his chest, a thin line of what some might label, dripping crimson, surrounding it. A shiver runs its icy spikes up my spine as the insignia almost radiates the corruption of his own heart, his soul; both cast into the hateful, obsidian abyss of hell itself.
I cannot confirm my statement from this particular angle, but my guess is, I'm not far off the mark. The onyx shadows seem to have possessed the paled skin of his upper torso. It's as though the writhing tendrils have gripped his throat in a pleased manner; the sadistic claws of hate and pain slicing into his cheeks and releasing crimson life to satiate a hunger that can never truly be satisfied…
The silence is deafening, as though time around us had ceased. It's as though we had been transported to some transcendent plane where even true existence seems questionable. The effect is only heightened by our frozen states; neither moving nor the pulse of heartbeats lost within the stifling silence.
A strange emotion begins to build in my chest, one that I've neither felt nor read about. I want to say it's a complex puzzle of scattered emotions, but it only feels like one…one that perhaps isn't meant to have a set of dictated words to describe it. An enigma…for lack of better words. It's comforting, but unnerving; certainty with doubt; happy, yet melancholy…
I don't know… But maybe… I'm not meant to... Or…maybe…just…not alone…
His rigid stance is saddening; it's as though the thing he truly hates is himself. Can't bear to speak of himself…look at himself…can't stand his own existence. Bitter understanding dances over my tongue and slides through me like some lethal poison…
…How can he care for you when his greatest distaste is for his own heart…?
Heartbreaking words spoken from that medium itself… I suppose my heart wishes to spare me the pain of a loveless future, but in reality, am I not headed for that path either way?
…I receive no response…
My body finally moves; not trance-like, but not of complete control either. I stand before him now, though he still remains as he was. My initial assumption was correct; the piercing darkness had claimed his throat and neck, like a rabid beast clamping down upon its prey. But his face is still guarded by his tarnished silver strands. Hiding what I fear? Hiding something else? I don't know…
Determined to change that, my hand rises, fingers being pulled towards his pained cheek with a magnetism all their own. My heart can feel the shadows that surround grow excited, hoping their long chased target will finally be caught. And the best part is, it will be their obtained slave who will complete the job.
Wicked adrenaline of the dark pulsates around me, grazing at my skin and stroking my cheeks. It brushes at my lips, eager to take advantage of my inexperience when it comes to these feelings. Powerful…but not enough to stop me. I won't be broken by these void creatures again…not again…
…Never again…
Though it does not actually exist, my hand shatters the icy barrier of darkness as my fingers continue to gravitate towards his face. His silvered strands of hair are caught between fleeing from my hand and clinging to it, and if it be the latter, them seem to weep for it…the chance to find redemption…the hope of being loved. A fractional moment that the strands have with my appendage is all their own.
It's unlikely that hair experiences emotions, but it does know what its owner suffers through, so maybe it cries, too…silently praying for the light to stroke it again. Or maybe…I'm just delusional…
Either way, the silky feel of his guardian strands holds onto the back of my hand as it draws closer to his cheek. I don't know why, but it feels like the next few seconds slow into "frame by frame" motion, defying multiple laws of Physics once again. It's like everything possible in the air intensifies, repeatedly intercepting my action and attempting to cease it. My move does in fact, halt, but for much more painful reasons.
My hand reaches a distance of two inches, then one, and soon fractions separate the two. I can feel the fleeting warmth of life flowing beneath his hidden flesh, when… he flinches… Not a tiny flicker resembling a shiver, but a pain-stricken recoil as though I had slapped him. Naturally, my hand counter-reacts and jolts in return. Everything desires my hand to drop in a sad defeat, but my suddenly hopeful heart keeps it afloat, gaining support from his tearful threads of silver.
"Why Riku? Why did you…you flinch like that?" I know he attempts to hold himself still, but my eyes won't let anything pass by me. His entire entity seems to sadden, so many forms of pain and emotion flowing into his every fibre. His form inwardly cringes, as though merely standing as he had been is some hateful crime. But his face remains still, hidden from me. Softly, a shuddered breath manages to escape his shadowed lips and tear-laced words hesitantly follow.
"…I…thought… Because I thought you would…" Against my will, a hurt gasp rips through my throat and past my lips. Why… Why would he think that…? How many times…would that have to happen before he…he became…accustomed…?
Never has something burned so violently within me, an agony that's impossible to actually put into words. How can his pain run so deeply? Does he have to feel this every minute he's alive…every…second…? Why? Nobody deserves this…nobody… I don't care what kind of evil encompasses this form of his… No one deserves this…
Hot sentiment scalds my cheeks, the paths heading to a suicidal plummet from my chin. That unexplainable emotion takes my heart in its alchemistic embrace once more and I soon become in a state that's of the same existence. My body and voice carry no emotions, and yet, they all seem to exist at the same time within. My hand doesn't falter this time, softly lying upon his shadowed cheek.
…It's…wet…
"You don't think much of me, do you, Riku?" It's as though he had been plugged into an electrical outlet and his entire body jolts back to life. His countenance finally rises to face me, a biting shimmer glazing his murky aqua spheres. Another streak of emotions breaks free from those dark eyes and falls upon him before grazing my skin as well.
"N-No…I mean…yes…Uh… No, that's not true… It--"
"Do you know what I see when I look at you?" His aquamarine spheres widen slightly, caught off guard by my sudden and unusual question. However, I think it's my expression that hits him hard. Obviously, I again can't see what I look like, but I can feel the solemn expression on my countenance A couple tears fall, but most of them rim my eyes, causing them to catch whatever light they can. And my lips…they now bear a small smile, the corners turned upwards with hope.
He starts to stammer out my name, his mouth trying so hard to fashion a response, though he truly does not know how. Part of him thinks I see what he feared I would see while another, more repressed part pleads the answer be what he has lost.
I don't know if my answer falls into either of those categories, though I suppose everyone's opinions are different…
"I see the same person that I have been with for weeks now. The only difference is your apparel and clothes don't make people evil." He stares at me with such confusion and disbelief, I'm almost tempted to hit him. How does one forgive himself and find salvation if he's always so negative, past regrets or not…
Doubt soon falls over his lost features, knowing I'm delusional and have been mistaken. He commences another protest and starts to pull away, but I move closer, my thumb passionately stroking the pale flesh of his cheek.
"Your eyes don't lie, Riku. They are still the kind and light-streaked aquamarine they were before. If you were faking your happiness, then your eyes would have told me so… They never did… They are the truth beneath the mask of lies. The eyes always reflect the heart…always. And your heart…is good, no matter what the shadows reflect…" I can tell he's still in denial, but it seems almost forced now. Perhaps he could always see that his eyes told him exactly what they told me, but he would constantly tell himself different. And what stronger hate can there be than self-inflicted hate? You break your own heart through painful lies of your existence. And now… you can't even consult your heart for comfort…for it is you and you alone who has caused its eternal pain.
…I want the lies to stop…
"But I--"
"Made some mistakes. My God…that means you're human! Oh, the horror of it all; the Silver-Haired boy is of the imperfect human race… Who'd have thought?" He fights it; I know he does. But eventually, his plush lips twitch into a smirk, the sparkle of amusement lighting up his entire face. I can sense his want to argue with me, but it can't quite break that newly constructed barrier of acceptance. His head leans into my hand, as though it were his connection to redemption. He blinks slowly and whispers my name, though he can't call any more words to follow. And if the darkness is still whispering blackened thoughts to him, they seem to have lost their potency now…
"You see…that's better. You shouldn't pain yourself to the point of tears, Riku. Emotion can make your eyes sparkle, but…not when they're sad. Your eyes…they dim…and become shadowed when you cry…" His aqua spheres narrow softly as more emotion falls from my own orbs of vision. I can sense his longing to catch those drops and make them cease, but fear continues to clasp at his heart. But fear of what…?
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…He stands there, uncertain where to go or turn, lost within the wisping darkness. Regardless of warnings, I reach out my hand to him, though I have no knowledge of where to go either. He hesitates, but accepts anyway, his hand gasping mine. And though we're just as lost as we were before, maybe we can find the light…together…
…The future doesn't scare me at all…Nothing's like before…
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My hand slides over his cheek and nestles on the nape of his neck, my fingers weaving through his silvered strands. My chest rests against his, the onyx symbol of the Heartless casting an icy, though failed shot through my body. Uncertainty forces him to resist, but my will is stronger. Pulling him closer, we're soon inch fractions apart…our eyes breaking their locked gaze.
"Whatever happens, Riku, don't let me go…" I whisper shakily onto his lips before taking them captive with my own. His hesitation pulls him away, but I'm not exactly in the mood to be denied, my grip tightening. Eventually, he cautiously submits, his hands rising to rest on my shoulder blades. I can sense his fear…
…And I soon know why…
It's not long before a slicing pain shoots through my chest and is swiftly accompanied by more. I know of their origin, but that only heightens my intent.
Riku's entity jolts painfully as his form betrays him, as he feared it would. He struggles to get loose, trying to reconcile his mistake before its too late, but I press harder, keeping myself against him. I'll slam him into the wall if I have to, but I refuse to let go…not for anything…
Icy tendrils writhe through my chest, aimed for the object that they've sought for so long. The light within Riku's heart pleads for me to stop…to get away…to save myself from the evil that ravages the innocent hearts of the trusting. I harshly ignore him, stroking his hair softly and bringing my heart even closer to his.
…Don't fight it, Riku… They gain strength from your fear… You know that… Don't be afraid of the darkness…
…I'm not…
The power of the heart astounds me… Every time the term is spoken, it develops a new power to aid those who call on it. I can't explain how mine spoke those words, nor can I clarify how his heard them. I uses it really doesn't matter… Somehow…they interacted… connected beyond human control…
He trembles with uncertainty, but a new trust for himself seems to shine from deep within, and I can feel his arms embrace me harder. I flinch agonizingly and hold him tighter…as the piercing claws of darkness grip my heart.
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Eventually, the knife-like claws slip from my prepared object of light and return to the failing abyss from whence they came. The warmth of spilt life clings to my chest, but like most trivial wounds…they'll heal.
I gently break our link and lower my head to nuzzle against his neck. My hands abandon their posts to lay against his chest, the daunting apparel not feeling any different than actual skin. The feared paranoia of this boy brings up void spots in my mind. What was it about this appearance that scared them so? I guess it's human nature to hate those who choose outside of their "vision". Sure, the kid made some mistakes, but if just one person had stopped to look farther than his appearance, he wouldn't have had to suffer like this for so long…
His arms find new positions as well, one resting on my waist, the other stroking my hair. If this boy is such a Heartless bastard, why are his arms so compassionate? They feel protective, like those of a loyal guardian; strong, resembling an unyielding soul; caring, not unlike a heart that fights for its light, whatever it may be. I guess I'm the only one who's ever bothered to give a damn. It can take hundreds to destroy a passionate soul, but only one to recognize it? The irony is painful…
"Are you okay?"
"Don't worry. I'm fine…" Thing is, it's the truth. Sure, my chest hurts a little, and my breathing is a bit harder, but, so what? It's hardly a high price to pay for someone like Riku. Life is not some fairy tale dream where shining white knights ride up on pink unicorns baring the perfect life for you in his palm. Reality doesn't have to be a grim existence, but it's stupid to think that you can live a life without struggle and pain. Life is what you make it; and if that means taking harsh beatings to remain with someone who's done nothing but fight for his existence, then so be it. We all make mistakes, so get over yourself. His unwieldy determination, despite his protests, is admirable and if people other than me would just wake up and see that, maybe he'll figure it out for himself faster.
He sighs apologetically, despite my heart's insistence that he stop blaming himself, and kisses my temple softly.
"You know, he's not exactly pleased with this failure… We're both in for hell…" I know of whom he speaks, sensing him all around for a long time now. I return Riku's gesture and kiss his blackened collarbone, smirking at the hatred I can taste in the shadows. Hmmmm…the taste of failure…I didn't think it would be so sweet…
"Well, that's a terrible shame, isn't it? That self-absorbed mage can go to hell. I'm not afraid of him…" I used to be, but what good is blind fear? He can't hurt me, especially now. Let him try; I'll never back down to him. Fear…the true source of the Heartless' power I suppose. A convulsing heart, stricken with every emotion possible, sending off its erratic pulse out for miles. Of course the shadows will strike you down. Maybe that's the true key…to not let your emotions rule you to the point of a breakdown. If you're not a target for your heart, you're a target of manipulation. I know this happened to Riku; I can feel it. No one could understand his emotions, his heart…and it ended up making him the perfect target for that power-hungry mage. Just another example of human ignorance…
"…Good…because now…neither am I…"
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Human ignorance… The ability to see only what you want to see… Just another mask of lies, is it not? Does ignoring the pain of someone truly make you feel better? You brush him off as a lost cause and your life takes a turn for the better? He tries to make it in the harsh existence called life alone, and makes a mistake. You pressure him to make his own decisions; "It's called growing up, being independent", but when he screws up, it's his fault, despite his lack of knowledge and guidance. And when he pleads for your help, cries for your forgiveness, you glare at him for his foolishness and label him dangerous and uncontrollable because he "trusted the darkness". But…
He takes the path of the darkness to find his true light; does that make him evil and unworthy of existence as opposed to someone who clung fearfully to the light? He makes a few mistakes and that automatically makes him no better than the creatures of shadow?
Yes, that is the way people think, isn't it? A lifetime of good deeds means shit if one thing didn't meet your standards, right? Once again, because he unknowingly trusted someone who was willingly to help him, he is branded for making a stupid decision. Your response? "I wouldn't have trusted him/her. I'm not that stupid…" Yes, that's right. You wouldn't accept the help of someone who was offering to find your only friends for you after they both disappeared across the universe. And when it felt like those friends betrayed you, you wouldn't dream of falling back on the only one who seems to care about you now. Oh, wait…that's right: You're perfect and make all the right decisions when life screws with your heart and throws them at you.
A weak will… I noticed that among a lot of the individuals who must have confronted him. Did you try to break his barrier, but get scared off when he became cold and distant? Were you frightened by the darkness that plagues this boy's heart, and instead of trying to save him, or even help him, you labeled him a freak and an idiot before trying to go back to exist in your puffy cloud dream of a life? Or is it that you're too lazy to attempt something in your life? Always taking the easy way out? Something is a little harder than you thought, so you quit, looking for someone who'll just cater to your selfish whims? Do any of you comprehend why he lashes out at those who try and find the truth? Those who "care" enough to try and understand this twilit soul?
Would it shock you to realize the answer is fear? Do you recognize the number of times this paladin has been hurt? Every time he thinks someone might actually care, they abandon his pleading heart to suffer in the darkness once again… There's only so many times before a heart stops trusting, stops wanting for someone to appear, just to leave again… His iciness and abuse… He wants to know that you won't leave him, that you won't shatter him again. If you actually watched the sadness behind those murky aqua spheres, you'd know that he wants to trust you…but can he? Through the hardest times, through the deepest darkness…can he?
You know… The shattered mirror often casts the clearest reflections. You learn from your mistakes and grow stronger, each shard adding to your still piecing together life, to form an even better picture. When someone falls and his reflection scatters, you shouldn't gasp and hide the mirror, or more accurately, ignore or scowl at it… You should pick it up, every shard, and look into it…see the truth…
:;:I chose to look beneath the barrier of darkened aqua and hate. And I did find…:;:
:;:The Candle Within The Ice…:;:
