Author's Note: Revisions, revisions, hurrah, hurrah! Basically, I've never really put half the effort into fanfiction that I do into my originals, and upon really stepping back and looking at it, I decided that I'm really not proud of my half-assing. So, yeah, nothing plot or action-wise changing; just some minor wording issues. Pacing's a bit much to worry about this far along, but later chapters will show much stronger efforts. Particularly where dialogue is concerned – I need to add action and description between characters talking more, yeesh.
Disclaimer: If I owned Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters, I would sue every last fangirl (not the same as "female fan") for what they've done to my creation. However, non-Disney/Square characters obviously belong to me, and I don't know why you would want them.
Prologue
Silence was the cruelest force in existence, Riku decided. It just wasn't possible to defeat it on his own. The sound his very breath, let alone the sound of his own voice, echoing unanswered throughout the silent halls, only emphasized his isolation. Castle Oblivion – that's what they called his prison. Oblivion was confinement in a beautiful, well-lit palace with no windows. Oblivion was wandering from memory to memory and finding that all the people whom he wanted to remember had been cut out. Oblivion was realizing that this emptiness was all that remained in his heart and soul.
The hooded figures – the apparent keepers of this dark castle – appeared periodically, reminding him in mocking tones that the friends he missed so achingly were cast away by his own hand. Ansem himself had appeared, perhaps two or three days ago, now – without the sun, Riku found it impossible to measure time – urging him to accept once more the Darkness he now sought to destroy, lest his heart remain nothing but an empty shell for all eternity.
Even the weighty silence was preferable to these grim words. Riku had vowed that neither Darkness nor Ansem would ever control him again. He was not a puppet, and he would not be toyed with.
The islander kept his thoughts diverted from his doubts, grasping instead at the memories he feared forgetting – memories of who he had been and who he should be. He remembered his mother – her silvery white hair, just like his, and slate-colored eyes. Her accent was so foreign to the natives of the island but so familiar to him. He could almost feel her affectionate touch and loving smile - and her stern disapproval when he misbehaved. He remembered his father, whose indigo eyes and dark, island complexion were the same as his son's, whose intelligence and willpower were only surpassed by his love for his tiny family. He could see him in his mind, seated half slouched in a wicker chair, watching as if only his constant supervision could keep the world turning the way it meant to. It had been a long time since Riku had really thought about them. He wondered how they felt having lost their only child – provided, of course, that they were still alive after all that had happened.
Of course, Sora and Kairi were there, locked so deep inside his heart that he wouldn't have been able to remove them if he'd wanted to. His teasing competitions with Sora played easily in his mind, Kairi always off to the side, giggling and cheering them on. He blocked out the wrongs he'd done his friends since then as best he could, knowing that acknowledging his fall was necessary, but wanting the happier times to remain unmarred by such gloom. He would need the strength of such innocent memories if he were to redeem himself.
Further back in his mind, he could see the other children he grew up with – Wakka and Tidus and Selphie – friends not as treasured, perhaps, but dear all the same. He wondered what they'd think if they saw him now, if they knew all that had happened. If he returned to the island today, would they look up to him as they did before?
Of course, there were more memories, ones that he'd somehow misplaced, despite all their significance. There was the redheaded boy who'd lived down the street from him, whom he'd walked to school with for the first year or so. He'd died of an illness when they were about six. It had been Riku's first experience with death – so strange that he should have forgotten the boy's name.
There was also the dark-haired girl from another island who came to visit each summer – a bright-eyed pixie who both Riku and Sora had favored when they were small. Two or three years after Kairi arrived on the island, she stopped coming. Those first few summers, Riku had waited for her anxiously, but over time, life overtook him and pushed her from his mind. He'd forgotten her name as well. He knew it was moping, but he didn't care; he wondered how long it would take for the others on the island to forget his name.