When he told them he wanted to go to Wonderland, Donald and Goofy said nothing, only got the Gummi Ship ready for travel. And when they landed, and he headed for the door that led to the other side of the world, his friends stayed behind without needing to be told.
Sora appreciated that. If it'd been one of them who wanted to take off all of a sudden for a world like that -- a world they hadn't made any real friends on, a world that was a headache and a half just to navigate -- well, he would've been full of questions.
Maybe they already knew. Goofy, at least, might have guessed. He was kind of uncomfortably observant sometimes.
The other side of the world was a normal-looking living room, nothing like the rest of Wonderland except that when you stepped inside the door behind you vanished. And, of course, the mirror.
Sora had only been in here once before, when he got turned around looking for the castle courtyard, but he didn't hesitate, went straight for the one wall that was reflective glass from floor to ceiling, and shoved a bookcase out of the way until he had enough space to see himself all at once. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and glanced into the mirror.
Roxas stared back out at him.
Sora jumped about a foot in the air.
"Boo," the other boy said, in a slightly strained voice.
He looked different. Older. Well, duh, Sora chided himself. He was nineteen. No reason Roxas shouldn't have aged, too. They shared a body, right?
"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Roxas was wearing an unpleasant little half-smile. Unconsciously, Sora pursed his lips trying, to mimic it. It felt strange on his face. When Roxas raised his eyebrows, Sora scowled.
"Stop making fun of me," he said. Didn't it just figure? The first time they'd seen each other in four years, and Roxas had to be like this.
"Well, what took you so long?" the blond snapped, and again the voice that wasn't quite his sounded thin with tension. His eyes, their eyes, flashed. "I've been trying to get you to come here for ages!"
Sora felt his face burn. He opened his mouth to say he hadn't heard anything and closed it again instantly, but of course Roxas heard the thought and balled his hands into white-knuckled fists. Sora knew at once that he'd been all but shrieking it, Go to Wonderland, over and over and over again. And still Sora hadn't heard anything.
"I'm..." He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."
Roxas shook his head sharply and began to tremble. At first Sora thought it was anger, and he wasn't surprised when the other boy slammed his fist into the glass between them hard enough to send spider-web cracks through his own image, but then Roxas looked up at him through bangs the color of late-afternoon sunshine and there were tears in his eyes. He was crying.
Sora froze. His heart, their heart, thundered in his ears. Of all the things he'd expected to see on the other side of the mirror, this had never even entered his head. He reached out, unthinking -- forgetting that boys weren't supposed to cry and that this ought to be weird and uncomfortable, forgetting that his hand would stop at that frictionless invisible wall -- and his fingers passed through the looking-glass just like a bright silvery mist and found purchase on Roxas's shoulder. After that, it wasn't hard to follow his hand onto the other side of the mirror.
It probably shouldn't have been so easy to pull this boy (his twin? his reflection? himself?) closer, shouldn't have felt so natural when Roxas tucked into his shoulder and pressed wet eyelashes against his throat. And Roxas definitely shouldn't have fit so perfectly in the circle of his arms -- they were the same person, this was his body, shouldn't it have been a little disorienting to touch it? Besides, the only times they'd ever spoken before, Roxas had seemed proud and distant and sort of cold. He shouldn't have let Sora hold him at all, shouldn't have accepted this comfort so readily.
But then, you never worry about crying in front of yourself, do you?
Roxas lifted his head, blinking with his eyes rimmed by spiky black, and it was just so simple, so right, to kiss him. There were no more words anyway. They'd said all they needed to, or at least all that they could.
The first kiss was like desperation. Like isolation. Like screaming yourself hoarse in a soundproof room for years on end. It came to him in a rush that Roxas could see and hear but couldn't feel, hadn't touched another person or tasted anything in years, and he tore at Sora's clothes like someone starving for skin, ripped off buttons and almost broke his zipper. For the first time, Sora could hear him, really hear him, could feel the way it burned in his veins, so he didn't resist, gave back what he could and responded with equal fervor so Roxas wouldn't feel alone in his hunger, wouldn't feel awkward or ashamed. And Roxas caught the thought and met his eyes and shoved him down on his back and ducked between his legs and everything went red and wonderful and he cried out and arched off the floor so hard it made the muscles in his lower back ache.
Not exactly slow or gentle. Roxas wasn't careful with his teeth, didn't hesitate to hold him down, and when Sora returned the favor even though he was exhausted, the other boy seized his shoulders, dug in and drew blood with his fingernails. Sora didn't care. He knew Roxas wanted it like this, wouldn't have known how to do it any other way, and anyway he liked everything else, and maybe, just maybe, the graze of teeth had sort of made him very loud and incoherent.
Besides, it didn't matter that he'd be hurting later, not when Roxas wouldn't be feeling anything at all.
Sometime after they were finished, with Roxas's (his own) taste still thick in his mouth, Sora thought about moving. He had to go soon, couldn't stay too long on this side of the mirror (Roxas stiffened against him), but he didn't want to leave just yet (and relax again, very slightly).
"Are you..." He felt stupid even asking, of course Roxas was okay, but even though he was the one covered in bruises and open cuts he'd never be able to explain, Sora couldn't help feeling like he'd taken advantage of the other boy somehow. Maybe because Roxas had moaned a name that wasn't his. "Do you feel better?" he tried instead.
For a long moment, Roxas didn't reply, didn't so much as open his eyes. Then he murmured, "Tell Kairi to come here."
"She can't hear Namine either?" Sora bit his lip. They were pretty terrible Others, whatever Roxas had once said to him.
The blond kept his mouth shut, but it came on like a flood, like the tears he hadn't even tried to control, and Sora knew it, felt it -- Roxas couldn't see Namine anymore. She'd always been the palest ghost, less real than any other Nobody, born from a heart without shadows and a body that belonged to someone else, and she wasn't as strong as Roxas, hadn't fought as hard to stay separate when it sometimes hurt, hadn't really minded fading back into Kairi and sleeping forever. And it'd been almost two years now since Roxas had last heard her voice. He wasn't even sure coming to Wonderland would help, thought Kairi might look into the mirror and see only herself, but maybe if they hurried...
"It's selfish," Roxas said quietly. "Isn't it?"
Sora tried to imagine being trapped inside a body he couldn't control, watching someone else's life play out from far away, and losing the only other person who could see or hear him. "Probably a little," he admitted. But he would've done the same thing. He offered Roxas a small, toothy grin. "She said you'd be together. So she can't just give up. And -- this is better, right?"
Again, the other boy didn't immediately reply. "It's more than I expected."
Which wasn't really a yes, Sora knew. But it was a start.