I don't remember much from the time I spent in Sora's heart. But I do remember making a promise. I promised, to both Sora and myself, that I would never let Xehanort hurt him. I remember the pain he felt - the pain we both felt - near the end of his first journey, when he was forced to fight his best friend, who was being controlled by Xehanort's heartless. To me, it felt like watching my own past unfold through another's eyes. Only it wasn't my past. It wasn't the past at all. It was all happening then and there, and the pain was Sora's.
It sickens me, knowing that a Keyblade Master could cause so much pain to others. Though I suppose it goes to show that anyone can be evil. There will always be evil in the world, and those who harbor ill intent take many forms. Similarly, no one is born evil. They become that way through some means. I only realized this recently, when I fully rejoined with Vanitas. I can see his past. All the pain and sorrow, the overwhelming darkness. I can see every cruel action Xehanort directed at him; Every foul lie that spilled from that awful man's lips. Though what I feel is a fraction of the pain he felt. I honestly have no idea how he coped. If I could hear his voice, I'm sure he'd scoff at me, telling me he doesn't need my pity and that he's not weak like me. I'm starting to think he may have been right. I am weak. I couldn't protect my friends back then. I couldn't protect Sora now. My heart feels like it will shatter again. But I can't let that happen. Not until I know that Sora's safe. He saved my life so many times. I owe it to him to bring him back.
So now I stand across from Sora, looking on in agony as piercing yellow eyes stare down at me from across the battlefield. I look up, muttering a silent apology to his namesake. I couldn't protect you, Sora, but I will stop you. Even if I have to die trying.
The sound of clashing metal rang loudly in the barren land around us, but all I could hear was the sound of my fast-beating heart. When I went to confront Sora, he attacked indiscriminately and without mercy. I defended myself, but refused to launch a counteroffensive for fear of hurting the one I was trying to save. I tried to reason with him, to get him to break free of Xehanort's control. I told him his friends were worried and waiting for him to return, but my worlds fell on deaf ears as the battle continued. He was fast - too fast - and I was tiring far too quickly. He had me on the defensive, and I couldn't find an opening in his attacks. If I didn't find a way to turn the tides soon I'd die, and I know Sora would never forgive himself if he took my life. I just couldn't let that happen.
My new-found determination guided my body and blade against the onslaught as I fought with renewed vigor. And finally, I found what I was looking for - an opening in his attack pattern. Taking full advantage of that one small opportunity, I launched my counterattack, gaining the advantage and putting him on the defensive.
As Sora struggled to regain the advantage, a sickening thought occurred to me. If I kept fighting like this, Sora would die. But at the same time, I couldn't allow Sora to take my life. My heart fell to my chest as I went over my options. That couldn't be how this ends. There had to be another way. My determination wavered and Sora managed to get a hit on me. I staggered back, my defenses as broken as my heart felt. So this is what despair feels like...I felt so unsure. Which path was the right one? Was there even a right path? I had to choose the lesser of two evils. But which one was the lesser? Should I let Sora kill me, only to feel the guilt when he finally came back to himself?
...Or should I kill him, letting his heart be free of it's prison, but shouldering the guilt and facing the hatred of those who love him...
...
No! There had to be another way. I promised I would protect him. And I refuse to break that promise. Not now, not ever.
With renewed determination I continued to fight, maintaining my onslaught for as long as possible while taking care not to cause harm to my opponent. The battle raged for many hours, and the light faded leaving only the darkness of night in it's wake. It became difficult to see, and each step I took was with extreme caution. I knew my opponent could have used to cover of darkness to his advantage. He didn't, however. He just continued his direct onslaught. That's when I began to see changes in him. Shifts in his stance, the hold on his keyblade (which he had been holding in a stance similar to Vanitas). Then, after some time I noticed his eyes begin to change, flickering between blue and yellow. It couldn't be...was Sora fighting back from the inside?
An amalgam of worries and doubts flooded my mind as I remembered my fianl fight against Vanitas. In a last-ditch effort to stop his and Xehanort's plans and protect my friends I shattered my own heart. What if Sora did the same? Panic and desperation fueled my movements and my tactics became more random and frantic. I knew I was leaving too many openings. I knew he could easily strike me down at this rate. But I had to find a way to stop him before Sora did the same thing I did back then.
As the first lights of the morning shone in the world around us, a keyblade fell to the ground, vanishing as it hit. I knelt tiredly, using my own blade for supports as the tiredness overtook me. As the dust cleared I saw Sora, laying still as a corpse in the dirt and dust. Pushing myself up and slowly making my way over to him, I placed my hand on his shoulder and gently turned him over. His breath was shallow and labored, but it was there. I heaved a sigh of relief and his eyes slowly opened. When they did, I swore that my heart nearly stopped.
...They were blue.