Disclaimer: I own nothing.
As always, thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited this story so far, your support has been absolutely incredible! Thanks!
On with the show!
Chapter XXIX: Fording the Rubicon
Kairi
This is how it happens:
Vanitas crumples to the floor, his face constricted in agony as smoke and blood leak from the hole in his abdomen.
His honey-gold eyes flutter shut and rage ignites in my blood
Sora tosses the smoking gun aside with a contemptuous snarl etched across his face and readies his Keyblade.
"Traitor," he snarls.
In that moment, I realize that he's already given up on me.
"Tyrant," I snap back, completely by reflex as the power of Kingdom Hearts pulses through my blood.
"What the fuck is wrong with you Kairi?! You're siding with him?"
I fold my arms, refusing to appear intimidated by the appearance of his weapon. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't."
Sora falters and his lips compress. "You love him." he assumes.
I shake my head. " Vanitas is resonable. He's nice. He treats me with respect and dignity, and I really like him. But I wouldn't say that I love him; not yet."
"Love is blind," Sora bites.
"And justice is irresolute," I respond, off the cuff. "Look at you," this heady power seeps into my every cell, turning my voice into a spiteful sneer. "You're like a gun. A useful tool in the right situation, but a danger to someone inexperienced. You never stop to consider all the facts, you just jump in with both feet and start swinging, praying that you'll hit the right target." I purse my lips, and I can feel the barb on the tip of my tongue. "You're pathetic."
Sora scoffs. "I'm pathetic? I'm pathetic? You're the one siding with the enemy, ditching me, after all our years of friendship for some sycophantic fuck-up with a couple smooth one-liners."
"Bullshit! What friendship? You've been nothing but a self-rightious, pompous, arrogant dictator since we met again. You refuse to be honest with me about anything, and yet you expect me to be at your beck-and-call, and obey your every order with no question and no hesitation. So I ask you again: What friendship?"
"I'll ask you once, for old times' sake. Come quietly. We can sort this out. No one has to get hurt." Sora raises one hand, palm out, in the universal gesture for peace.
But he doesn't let go of his Keyblade.
Vanitas gasps, pressing his hands tighter to the hole in his guts.
I shake my head, infinitely, impossibly sad that things have come to this. "Clearly that isn't the case."
Sora's terse expression dissolves into one of feral joy as he brandishes his weapon. "Fine, have it your way."
Everything happens at once:
Sora flashes across the room, faster than any normal human can run, but he isn't fast enough to catch me by surprise—Vanitas wasn't lying about the effects of Kingdom Hearts' power.
Sora's Keyblade comes around in a thundering overhand; even with my newfound strength, the vibration still numbs my hands, and it's a struggle to hold onto my weapon.
Sora proves his mettle, bringing his elbow around; I barely manage to block in time to save my larynx from being crushed.
I slam my fist into the side of Sora's head, stifling a scream when last two fingers of my left hand snap under the force of the impact.
Sora stumbles back dazed, and I'm more angry than upset now, and slam my foot into his gut, sending him flying back into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.
Sora wipes blood from the back of his hand and nods. "You've gotten stronger." he admits. "It's a shame it won't be enough to save him.
I feel the rage curdling in my gut, clawing at my insides like a living thing, demanding release. "Try it, Sora." I challenge him, the coppery tang of ire and bile mixing in the back of my throat. I charge across the room, and for the first time, Sora's face registers surprise, and then I'm pummeling him through the wall—thankfully, the next room is empty.
Sora smashes a lamp against the side of my head, his teeth bared in a feral snarl.
The impact is painful, but nowhere near as bad as it would be without Kingdom Hearts. The blow still dazes me, and I barely manage to get my Keyblade around in time to keep Sora from severing my spine.
A resounding crack echoes from my follow-up hammerfist to Sora's jaw, and he stumbles back into the bed and the spits out a bloody, broken tooth.
He lets out a dark chuckle. "Is that all you've got?"
A red haze clouds my vision, and I drive him backward into the bed; he plants a knee in my gut to keep me from pressing my Keyblade to his throat.
I realize that his palm is rocketing toward my face, too fast to do anything but pray that the impact doesn't drive my nose into my brain and kill me.
I manage to turn my head aside at the last second, so that his palm stike hits my cheekbone instead of my nose. The impact is a burst of white fire and a fog of dizziness, but I force myself to shake it off.
Sora's already bearing down on me when my vision clears, driving into me with his shoulder, and I stumble back into the table. He seizes the back of my head in a painfully tight grip and slams my head into the table one, two, three, four, five times.
My head swims worse with each impact, my ears are ringing, and I can taste blood.
My legs give out beneath me, and I clutch the edge of the table for support.
Sora's eyes flash murderously as he pulls a long combat knife out of his boot. "I'm sorry it had to be this way, Kairi. But I have no tolerance for traitiors. I can't allow you to compromise our order." He rears back and plunges the knife up to its hilt in my back.
A high, shrill, piercing scream reaches my ears and it takes me a second to realize that the sound is coming from me.`
The pain is excruciating—every breath is like taking in a mouthful of hot coals. I can feel the knife's blade twinging inside me in time with my heartbeat; it's a miracle that it didn't hit any major arteries. I collapse to the ground, barely managing to avoid Sora's foot as he attempts to crush my windpipe.
I slam the pommel of my Keyblade into the side of his knee, just like Riku taught me, and I am rewarded with a dull crunch and a stumble from Sora. I force myself to stand while he's weak, otherwise I might not get back up.
Sora's hand snaps out. "Firaga!" he snarls as he regains his balance.
I know I'm in trouble, and even though it hurts like hell to move, I throw myself out of the way as a massive fireball explodes from his hand
The heat is incredible, pulling the skin tight over my bones—I turn around just in time to see it barrel though what's left of the wall, the edges of the hole glowing and smoking as the magical juggernaut tears through the building, setting it ablaze.
Sora leaps at me, a fraction slower than last time, and I slip out of the way, jamming my elbow into his broken ribs. He cries out as he crashes to the ground, rolling to absorb the impact. He forces himself to his knees and pauses there, gasping.
I take advantage of his distraction to pull the knife from my back, stifling another scream. Immediately, I can feel hot rivulets of blood coursing down my back, soaking into the waistband of my pants.
Sora's up now, eyes flashing as he charges again.
With Kingdom Hearts' power coursing through me, it doesn't take much force to use his momentum against him and hurl him into the table hard enough that it splinters under the impact.
I try to lift my Keyblade, but the wound in my shoulder must have damaged the muscle, because it's too heavy. I drop my Keyblade and clutch the knife, still wet and crimson with my blood and step after him.
Sora knocks the knife from my hand and my broken fingers protest at the jarring motion, but I force myself to shut out the pain.
I drive my elbow into Sora's chest and break a flimsy wooden chair against his skull when he lunges at me.
Sora stumbles to a knee, the slams his fist against the underside of my chin, snapping my head back.
Power surges through me, sharpening my reflexes, clearing my vision in time to counter Sora's tackle by hurling him into the door hard enough that he crashes through it with a trememndous crash.
Sora rebounds off the wall of the hallway outside with a heavy thud, shaking off the impact like it's nothing, bringing his Keyblade around in a vicious hack.
I raise my forearm to block, only to remember that I don't have my gauntlets, and I'm forced to roll under the impact. I scrabble for the knife as I roll past it, unwilling to face such an experienced opponent with nothing but my bare hands. The stab of pain as the knife wound in my back takes the brunt of my weight is almost enough to make me vomit, but I force the bile back, driving the knife into Sora's right calf muscle with every ounce of strength I can muster.
Sora screams and drops to a knee, Keyblade tumbling from his grip.
Now or never.
I leap for the weapon as Sora stumbles after me. My hand closes around the grip in the same instant as Sora shouts:
"Thunder,"
My next breath tastes like ozone and then my body jerks and convulses as I take a direct hit from a lightning bolt. My heart stutters and my vision flashes blue and white and gray, and I'm vaguely away of a string of drool oozing from my mouth.
Sora's pulling himself toward me, propping himself up with the help of the wall, and I try to force myself back to my feet, but my muscles refuse to obey my commands.
I drag myself away from him, scrabbling backward across the floor in a crabwalk as Sora picks up his Keyblade in a lurching half-step, his body trembling, whether from rage or exhaustion, I can't tell.
Sora's eyes burn with exhaustion and despair and anguish as he staggers forward. He pauses for a moment, and spits a stream of blood out onto the ground.
"How..." he wonders. "How could you do this?" he stammers, sagging against the wall.
"Do what?" I sneer. "Refuse to be your fucking puppet?"
"I love you, Kairi!" He shouts, his voice ragged, somewhere between rage and utter desperation.
Cure. I mouth the words under my breath—I learned the basics of magic in my training sessions, and it seems to have paid off now; I can feel the severed muscles knitting themselves back together. It isn't anything near fully healed—not even close—but it'll have to be enough.
"Bullshit." I snap back. "You love me? What could you possibly have done to prove that to me, other than try to control me when I don't do what you want? That isn't love, Sora. That's obsession."
"How dare you!" Sora snaps back.
I place a hand on my chest. "Me? You're the one who's out of line here. Look at you; you come here and try to murder my friend because you're jealous that I won't hang out with you? If that's not obsessive and controlling, I don't know what is."
Sora splutters, and his laugh of what I assume is disbelief comes out as more of a cackle. "Friends...You really have betrayed us, Kairi."
"I never betrayed you, Sora. I never told Vanitas anything he doesn't already know. I never compromised any of you. I just wanted to see his side of the story."
"Save it. You've made it clear where you stand. I'm sorry it has to be this way." Sora shoves away from the wall, and settles into a lopsided battle stance as his calf weeps blood onto the thin carpet.
I take a deep breath. I need to get past him, need to get to my Keyblade, or I don't stand a chance.
I'm more durable now, yes, but if the knife wound proves anything, I'm not indestructible.
I close my eyes, forcing myself to channel this newfound power thrilling though my veins. I wish I could be as fluid as Vanitas or Sora, or any of the other Wielders, for that matter, but I don't have enough experience.
But that doesn't mean I'm just going to give up and die.
As much as it breaks my heart, I know that right now, at this moment, Sora won't hesitate to kill me.
I don't weigh enough to bowl him off his feet, and the ceiling is too low for me to vault over his head.
I decide to just go with my instincts.
A feint forward draws him into a clumsy sweeping blow—his Keyblade slams into the wall, embedding itself there.
I use the wall as a springboard, shoving off of it, and using my momentum to clothesline him into the opposite wall.
I take off running back toward the room we've just left and snatch my Keyblade off the floor.
Smoke burns my eyes—the building's really burning now—and I turn just in time to catch Sora's blow.
I leap back as Sora's weapon slams into the floor, but he wastes no time following up with a gravity spell, crushing a gaping hole into the floor between us.
I stare at him and his piercing glare cuts right through me.
I leap across the gap at him and our blades meet in an explosion of furious movement.
He is me and I am him in this intimite tangle, this ferocious melding of chaos and order.
Sora sends me reeling with a brutal backhand, but I counter by driving a knee into his already mangled rins.
We whirl and clash and bind, blades ringing as flames sear the room around us, teetering dangerously on the edge of the hole.
We're both incredible fighters, but neither of us is invincible, and we are equally unable at forcing our already taxed bodies to continue performing at such an incredibly demanding pace indefinitely.
This is how it ends:
I'm exhausted and in pain, and I can barely keep my arms from buckling at Sora's attacks, even with the boost Kingdom Hearts gave me.
Sora is as relentless as he is ruthless, driving his forehead into mine in a skull-splitting headbutt. But his prowess has made him overconfident.
I let myself stumble back under the blow, whirling out of the way when he attempts to shove me into the hole.
He misses a cut at my back, and I have to take advantage of the opening when his strike misses and he overrotates as a result.
Kill or be killed.
It's surprising how quickly my thoughts turn to such basic instincts, but I don't have time to think about that now.
I'm sorry, I think and then I plunge my Keyblade into Sora's back.
The sound is hideous, like an axe crushing a watermelon.
Sora gives a choked gurgle and turns around slowly, his face blank, mouth slack. He gags, and blood dribbles from one corner of his mouth as his expression changes from shocked to horrified.
Sora glares at me, and raises his weapon to strike again as I let go of my Keyblade.
"If I die, you're coming with me."
I shake my head sadly, and step back out of his range. "I'm sorry it had to be this way. I didn't want this..." hot tears burn my eyes, streaming down my cheeks,
Sora just snarls. "Fuck you."
And then he topples backward into the hole in the floor.
Thoughts? Comments? Think Kairi went overboard? Opinions on whether Sora should live or die? REVIEW!
See you next chapter!
~Script
