Looking for Polaris
by Emma East
Part I: North Star
"You don't have to wear it--"
"I want to."
With a sigh, Riku surrenders the thalassa shell necklace. He doesn't realise he's been clutching the necklace in a death grip until he deposits it on Kairi's upturned palm; his palm is embossed with shell patterns, concurrent to the lines permanently etched there. Their eyes meet for a brief second, her lips stretch into a smile, and he looks away.
She's clutching a bouquet abundant in blue roses; he doesn't realise how hard she's clutching it until he sees her knuckles have turned white. There's an uneasy downturn to her smile, it seems.
The blue roses are a joke shared between them. He remembers how long they'd searched the mainland to find the finest bunch of white roses—to be died a shade darker than sky blue. He was obliged to accompany her; she had snagged him as maid of honour, using persuasion and bribes to win him over. He would also be bearing the honourary title of best man, thanks to Sora's obstinance. Like the colour of the roses she clutched, it was unorthodox for one man to take both titles, but there he was.
Kairi had, at first, been grasping at straws to follow the 'something old, something new; something borrowed, something blue' adage her mother was so bent on. First off the checklist was something borrowed. Selphie had lent her an item: an opal-encrusted hair pin, as frivolous as it seemed, but she'd always admired the way it glinted in moonlight. Something new was the cups they would exchange vows over (Riku's heart lurched at the thought). They were missing something old and something blue until Kairi decided she wanted blue roses, of all things.
Now, she was just missing something old--they hadn't found it until now--leave it to them to put it off until the last minute--and aside, Kairi seemed to think it appropriate. An old thalassa shell necklace. For some reason or another, thalassas were equated in luck to lady bugs and shooting stars and four-leaf clovers. They weren't hard to come by, and Kairi had strewn at least a hundred necklaces of thalassa together in the past. She deemed it fitting.
Still, Riku had been reluctant to give her his because once upon a time it had been her present to him. It was his favourite gift, not because it was the most beautiful or expensive or luxurious, but because she'd made it. With her nimble hands she'd crafted the necklace, patiently drilling holes in the shells, diligently stringing them together, and personalising it with an inscription he hadn't noticed until years later.
She'd held it up to the light for him to see. A star.
She made it after their final return to the island, to keep them all together.
To Hades with Paopu fruits, she'd said; I'll make you necklaces, instead. They bring good luck to sailors. Not that you two're sailors, mind, but you're travelers, so it's close enough.
She made Sora's first. He didn't gloat, but his grin was enough to tip Riku off that, Kairi likes me better, nyah-nyah, in the most childish voice that Riku could imagine. Then again, maybe he was just overthinking.
Kairi had taken a few weeks to make Sora's necklace; for Riku's, it took months. She said she had to find just the right shells, and it took forever when the beach was covered in them like stars in a sky.
I'd string you up the stars, if I could. She pointed up at Polaris. See that, Riku? That would be the centrepiece of your necklace. It's the brightest light in the sky. That way... you'd always have light with you.
He shook his head. I don't need a star. I already have a light.
You're right, I suppose. She pressed her lips together, and looked up at the sky. You have mine....
Her mouth stretched into a lazy grin. She stood off the beach--water up to her ankles, the receding tide nipping at her feet before stealing away. She'd never looked more beautiful, in her sloppy rolled-up shorts and hasty ponytail, skin aglow in the twilight, fireflies flitting all around her. All around them.
They'd never been together like that again, alone, with only the fireflies and the stars as company.
Now he helps her tie the necklace, fumbling with the clasp and muttering a hasty apology. He feels butterflies rise in his stomach, fluttering their battered wings, at the sight of her in that fitted bodice. He can smell the coconut shampoo wafting from her thick hair, bound in a fancy updo. Of late, her hair has grown so long, and today it has been curled. Most of it is done up by a thousand little pins, Selphie's baroque pin tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
After snapping the necklace in place he tugs on a curl, and lets it go. He can hear the intake of her breath and knows, just from that near inaudible sound, that she's smiling. What he doesn't see is the effort she puts in to making it look like a grin, and not a grimace.
They both turn when the adjacent door clatters open.
"On in one!" Selphie's voice booms, and she closes the door almost as soon as she's opened it.
Nerves tighten the knot in Riku's stomach. He manoeuvres from behind her so he's standing at her side.
"Ready?" He extends an arm akimbo.
Their eyes meet. Her eyes are half-lidded. He thinks, if he can just look hard enough, that there is regret and reluctance lingering in their depths.
That's why she isn't moving. Isn't it? Isn't it?
She looks just as nervous as he feels, and he's not even getting married. He resists the urge to crack into a grin and just laugh it off. But her lips are pressed in a firm line, and he's wondering what's going on in that head of hers. Still... he doesn't need to ask: he knows that now, more than ever, she is having second thoughts. Third thoughts, fourth thoughts, spiralling, without end.
Somewhere in his selfish heart he feels the faint voice of hope, whispering.
Stop it. Shut up.
He takes one step forward to see what she does.
Kairi sighs, turns her head away, straightens her posture, and takes his arm. "Come on, maid of honour, let's get this thing over with."
He turns away and smiles, though he frowns simultaneously. He's glad of the curtain of hair that falls over his face, a curtain to disable her from getting a good look at his face. (He didn't permit Kairi to cut his hair, either; not even for her marriage. The word, used in that context, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth).
The music cues and they walk forwards, following Selphie's lead.
Riku's eyes meets Sora's.
Sora looks bashful, and a tad too serious even in light of the formal event. Somehow the suit looks out of place draped across his body; Riku, who knows him better than anyone, knows he's uncomfortable. But the happiness he feels must eclipse that because he can't stop grinning.
Riku lets Kairi go, and though he keeps a smile on, inside he's breaking. He takes his rightful place, just below the altar, and watches her ascend.
Author's Notes: One of the many Kingdom Hearts fics I never put up. I don't read much Kingdom Hearts 'fic anymore--at least, not as much as I did in the past--but I realised that I kind of love this one, so I figured I'd post it. Part two is underway, because I feel this needs more closure.
Reviews are appreciated, and constructive criticism is welcome.