Ch 2: Blackberry Season
"The blackberries are in season," Kairi grinned as she picked one from between the thorns.
"Does your mom still make that really good blackberry jam or those cobblers?" Sora wasn't as careful as Kairi, but he didn't notice the scratches. "I remember we used to pick buckets of them for her."
"I don't know," Riku shook his head, ignoring the blackberries.
He remembered though, when he and Sora were small, before Kairi had come to the islands, lugging home a large metal bucket full between them, lips and tongues stained purple, and hands scratched from the bramble. Later, they had all had their own buckets, and Riku had picked the most the quickest. Even when they were eleven or twelve, his mother had despaired at sending Sora home yet again with his white shirt covered in blackberry stains.
Kairi kept to herself that Nara Heaton hadn't made blackberry anything since her son had disappeared.
"Maybe if we brought her some she would," Sora continued to eat the berries right off the vine.
"Maybe," Riku replied absently.
He was sitting in the shade beside where Kairi and Sora were occupied with the small sweet fruits, staring off towards the poapu island, his back resolutely towards the Secret Place.
"Have you talked to your parents at all since you got back?" Kairi picked a hand-full and sat down beside him, offering him some.
"No, he's been sleeping," Sora grinned.
"Weren't there more trees on that island?" Riku narrowed his eyes against the sun glinting off the water.
"Yeah," Kairi nodded. "The last few storm seasons have been pretty bad. They wiped out most of them."
"The poapu's still there," Sora flopped down on Riku's other side, also offering him blackberries.
Riku ignored the offer of food. He had eaten more in one sitting this morning then he was used to eating in days, and he wasn't hungry.
"Why wouldn't it be? It's gotten through ever storm since before we were born," Kairi shrugged.
"Why doesn't anyone come here anymore?" Riku asked abruptly.
He had been sitting in the same spot for the last hour while Sora ran all over the island, and Kairi tried to keep up with him. He could feel the pulse like energy from the Secret Place, but he couldn't sense anything out of the ordinary or at all remarkable about their little Play Island.
"Even though they don't really remember the darkness coming, they know this is where it started. They all swear they feel like something's trying to sneak up on them when they're here. I think it's all rubbish. King Mickey, Donald and Goofy were here all the time while we waited for you two, and they never said there was anything strange about it," Kairi rolled her eyes.
"Then Mickey sealed the door," Riku pushed himself up to his feet, finally turning towards the Secret Place.
"Huh?" Sora looked up at him blankly.
"I guess," Kairi shrugged uncertainly.
"This world was lost to darkness before the door could be locked. When it was restored the door would have been open," Riku explained, offering them both a hand up. "It's locked now though. Mickey must have locked it while he was here."
"You can tell from here the door is locked?" Sora still looked baffled.
"Can't you?" Riku frowned; he had assumed Sora could sense everything he could.
"No," Sora shook his head. "My keyblade can."
"Huh," Riku hadn't thought there was any difference; there wasn't for him.
For a moment it looked as if Riku was going to head towards the Secret Place, then he turned and started picking blackberries.
"We should bring some home for my mom."
Nara was not surprised to hear Kairi and Sora's voices coming from her kitchen, but Riku's laughter startled her. It had been so long since she had heard it. She peered into the kitchen to find Sora trying to wash blackberry stains off his shirt.
"Oh, shut up," Sora grumbled, then noticed Nara and smiled brightly. "We picked you blackberries."
Nara could only stare at them for a moment, not sure whether to laugh or cry. She remembered three little children proudly presenting her with sand pails full of the sweet berries, tongues and fingers stained purple. The memory hardly matched the three near adults in the kitchen now.
Riku studied her curiously from behind the fringe of his hair, but said nothing.
"Thank you," Nara managed to find her voice, smiling. "Do you want cobbler or jam?"
"Cobbler!" Sora crowed.
"Jam please," Kairi said at the same time.
Nara laughed then, because it was the same answer they had always given. "Go get me more. I'll make you both."
"But cobbler first, right?" Sora asked. "Riku, you like cobbler better, right?"
"Come on Sora," Riku grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him towards the door. "Let's go."
Riku, Nara remembered, liked them both the same.
"Riku?" Nara stepped onto their back porch.
Riku had been sprawled on the porch swing all morning, staring out at the ocean. She had thought several time about telling him to come inside, or asking him if he was hungry, but there was something about him that seemed untouchable to her now, so she had left him alone.
He turned to look at her when she said his name though.
"Your father forgot his lunch. I'm going to take it to him. Do you want anything from the store while I'm there?" she asked.
"I'll take it," Riku stood up with a grace she didn't remembered, or maybe she had just never noticed. "The jam will burn if you go."
Nara wondered how he knew what she was doing. He had been out on the porch since before she had woken.
"Thank you," she held the bag out to him.
Riku's father owned the general store. It had been in his family for generations, and it was one of only two on their tiny cluster of islands, the other being a full day's boat ride away on the big island. Riku had never had much interest in taking over himself. He still didn't.
His vague memories of the general store sharpened as he walked through the front door. He remembered running errands for his father and coming here every time he or Sora broke their play swords. His father sold swords, the wooden ones the children played with, and real swords that people only bought for decoration. What use did the islanders have for swords in their tiny world?
The store was empty, and Riku wandered over to the sword display behind the counter, running his eyes over the weapons. They were nothing fancy, but they were real combat swords, sturdy with good edges on them. Riku had never been allowed to touch them without his father's permission. On the wall next to them was a row of family pictures, the oldest of them a small oil painting of the general store right after it had been built, the newest a Polaroid of Riku, Sora and Kairi as children, tucked into the edge of a frame.
He paused when he spotted a photo of his grandmother, seeing what he hadn't bothered to notice before.
"Riku?" Jonah certainly hadn't expected to see his son in the store.
"You forgot your lunch," Riku offered it to him without looking away from the photo. "Mimi is so young."
"Everyone was young once," His father took the bag from him, amused. "That was taken before I was born."
"Her hair is white though," Riku frowned slightly, not quite remembering what it felt like to be young. "I always thought her hair was white because she was old."
"No," Jonah sat on a stool behind the counter. "You get your hair from her. Your eyes too."
It was no secret that Riku looked nothing like his parents.
"Where did she get them from?" Riku boosted himself up to sit on the back counter.
"I don't know," Jonah unwrapped his sandwich. "She never talked about where she came from, and all she brought with her when she showed up on the islands was a trunk with a broken lock and her swords. Speaking of which, we just got the new swords from Torrs in. I haven't unpacked them yet."
Sword fighting was possibly the only thing Riku and his father had had in common. Jonah had learned from his mother and passed the skills onto his son, and by association his son's best friend. Where his mother had learned, just like where she had come from, she had always kept to herself.
Riku slid off the counter and into the backroom, finding the crate easily. As Jonah watched him unwrap and test the weight and balance of the swords he saw an easy elegant in his movements, a confidence that spoke of experience on the battle field.
Jonah had caught glimpses of Riku's keyblade when his son started from his sleep, sword clutched in his trembling hand, but he had yet to ask to see it. Sora and Kairi were eager to show their keyblades to anyone who asked, as they should be. They were young and they had beautiful weapons worth showing off. Riku had steadily refused every request to draw his blade. If he wouldn't draw it for Kairi, there was very little chance he would show it to Jonah.
"These are nice," Riku laid them down on top of the crate.
"Maybe when you're feeling better we can try them out," Jonah offered hesitantly.
He missed sparing with his son. There was no one else to spar with on the island.
"I think I'd like that," Riku said quietly.