amator -oris m. [a lover , friend, admirer]; esp.[the lover of a woman].
Act III, Scene Three: Amator.
Avarielle paused at the doorway to his room. She was holding a small wooden platter. On it was perched some steaming coffee and a warm bowl of broth. She wanted to knock, but any confidence she had ever possessed in all her days seemed continually driven out of her by confusion and doubt.
Finally, she managed to balance the tray on one forearm. She placed the back of her hand against the door and let her knuckles clunk against it.
Once…
Twice…
"Yes?"
The door was slightly ajar.
"Could I come in?"
"Whatever you want."
Thinking this was the closest thing to an invitation she could get, Ava pressed her back up against the wall and backed slowly into the room. It was eerily dark (the sun had long since set). From the lantern light down the hall, a little bit made its way in to illuminate a sitting and—to Ava's slight embarrassment—half-naked Riku.
Luckily, it was the appropriate half of him that was still clothed, so she came farther in. Her bare toes squeezed at the tendrils of carpet just beneath her. She was looking down at him as he sat. He had one leg hanging off the edge of the bed, the other folded up beneath him. One hand was on the bed, the other situated deep in his hair.
"Ava?
"Yes…?" She left his side to place the tray on the bedside table. Something was in the way. She fingered it and found it to be Riku's blindfold. He had taken it off?
"I don't need any candles, so there aren't any," Riku explained. "You're free to light one."
"All right." She found a lantern hanging over the table, and went about lighting it with some matches stowed in a drawer. A soft, wavering light jumped across the room.
"Can you close the door? There's a bit of a draft," the man said. His voice went neither up nor down.
Avarielle quickly did as he asked. The man seemed rather subdued. Even worse than normal. "Did you get lots of sleep?"
"No. I washed off. That's about it."
Ava had left him more than three and a half hours ago. That was all he'd done? Well, plenty of thoughts must have run through that brain of his during the time. If only she could know. She watched him carefully. He was moving slightly, and now her back was toward her—
"What? What is it?" he demanded in an upset and angry tone.
Avarielle then realized that she had been screaming. That she had cried out at the sight of the burned flesh forming a seven-pointed star that spiraled out from the middle of his spine. It looked painful; the dark, browned skin sunk into the eerily white background of his back. Riku already seemed half-starved from the way his spine stuck out, and now this…
"There's a scar on my back, I know," Riku said. "I found it already."
Ava couldn't help herself but draw nearer to him, inspect the horrendous, painful thing more closely.
"It doesn't hurt that much."
The skin seemed so dark. Perhaps the wound ran all through his skin. Perhaps the pain ran deeper than that.
"I can hear you sniffling back there. You don't have to hide from me. I can't see you, wherever you are."
It was true, but he didn't have to say it.
"Come and sit down."
She sat down on the bed, on the other side, making sure a foot or two lay between them. She could see his face now. The blindfold was gone, but his eyes remained closed. It was a horrible sight, his chest was. The muscles, which her pupils were unconsciously tracing every curve of, were scarred and cut in many places.
"I brought you some broth—and coffee, because I thought you would have to wake up. Maybe you shouldn't drink it now."
"I will," he promised. "I don't want to fall asleep."
She didn't ask why. He didn't seem likely to tell.
"Ava…I've been thinking."
"I'm sure you have."
"You never mentioned anything about my sight leaving for good."
For good. It echoed in her mind and heart, and she wanted to cry for him, as she had already done. Riku felt his fate had already been decided, and was coming to terms with it.
"You never mentioned it either," she pointed out, trying to keep her voice light.
"You weren't surprised when it didn't come back."
"Quistis overheard you and Vincent talking. She told me. I thought it would be easier for you if I didn't say anything."
"Hmm," he went, quite noncommittally.
"Have the broth, then," she said, getting worried about how he looked. The two of them had been eating well on the last two stops on their journey, but that wasn't enough to cure years of want.
"Okay."
She served it to him and he slurped it down before repeating the process with the hot coffee. He seemed relieved to have the caffeine in his system, but Ava worried about him not sleeping.
Because of his prosperous profession, Ava had lived better than many. She lived in the safest apartment complex in town and had the healthiest meal she could scrounger up every day. Of course, she wouldn't bring this up with Riku, because of what he thought.
"I can tell you're worried about me," Riku said, and Avarielle flitted around with the idea that he could read minds.
No way…
"It's in the air…your feelings," he said from above the remains of the coffee. The steam that condensed on his bare features seemed pleasant. "They are thick."
Avarielle made a face at him. Fine, she was worrying for him, and he was taking the time to be mystical. He…
She plopped down on the bed next to him so he couldn't miss her point. "When did you turn into a sage?"
She was expecting a sarcastic remark or some sort of criticism, but, instead, he grimaced. Like he was working to hold back something.
Ava touched him gently, as was habit. He didn't whip his hand away like usual.
"Riku, what's the matter?"
"I know this place," was all he said.
Ava recalled the strange flashbacks she had been having earlier in the library.
"So you didn't sleep at all?"
The man shook his head once. "I don't want to sleep…"
She could sense emotion lurking into his voice, but it only served to worry her. It must have meant Riku was really upset.
"I'm sure we're safe here, Riku."
"It's not that…"
"Aerith and the others have been very kind. Oh, and her baby is the sweetest thing!" Ava had been holding the child earlier, and her bare arms were still warm with good memories.
"I guess there never were any children in Caelestis," he mused.
"Haven't been since I was young."
"I grew up surrounded by kids my own age," Riku told her. "I'm sorry you didn't get that."
"Yeah," she said softly, sadly, reflectively. Avarielle knew she had promised him that she wouldn't think about his memories, but now they all came rushing at her. She could almost feel her legs flying across the beach as she raced Sora, remember her stomach stretching to capacity with home cooked island food.
He had had, for such a long time, such a bright childhood.
Ava's eyes ran over the burdening chains on his chest. They seemed to strange today—almost transparent, even. She hadn't even noticed them from behind. She wished in vain she could touch them, somehow determine what they really were, what the chains represented. But her curiosity went unrequited.
"This place…" Riku seemed to choke, as if all the matters of the world were swelling up inside of his body. He seemed as though he might…just might…
Cry.
"Riku, I think you need some rest. Do you want to go to sleep now?"
"No—Never… Not in this place… Not here… Not where the nightmares began…"
"Riku, I'm here—"
"Get out!" he shouted, ice dripping from his voice as all his muscles tensed. He was throwing away her arm as he launched himself to his feet and grabbed at his chest, clawing the skin. He was bent over, but the visible part of his face was contorted by pain and anger.
"Riku—!" she tried, the feelings pushing out from her chest. She backed away, stumbling, gripping her pendant so tightly the chain pulled hard at the back of her neck. What was this sudden reaction? What in the world could have spurred this violent response?
"Leave me," he breathed, obviously trying to regain some control.
"No! I-I won't. You need somebody here with you now—!"
"You're wrong! I don't need anyone!"
You're acting like a big baby, she thought of him as her body trembled. There was something irrational going on inside his brain, some sort of paranoia. She wouldn't let it get to her. She wouldn't!
"I'm staying with you," Ava insisted.
"Why?"
Why? "Because I'm your friend."
"What would you know about friendship…" The words were spat now, cold and hard as his body convulsed. He was scratching at his chest still, trying to destroy some foe that lurked deep within.
"It's true," she admitted, the walls that contained her emotions beginning to crumble. "I never had any friends before… But I thought of you as my friend, Riku."
She calmly walked to him, even as he struggled against the reality that attacked him and his heart so fiercely. She touched him.
It was a mistake.
He threw her off again, but this time with such passion that she tumbled to the floor in a heap, and she tasted carpet as she heard his bitterness in the form that horrified and hurt her.
"I'm sorry that you would never know anything about betrayal…because only a friend can betray another…you would know nothing of love…" He was breathing hard, trying to steady himself, trying to fight the invisible pain.
"You're wrong!" she cried, not bothering to climb from her lowly position of the floor. "I know love—and now I know betrayal! Betrayal because you never trusted that I have feelings of my own!"
And perhaps he had started feeling guilty for this, for he fell to his knees and began to gag on his words, holding his face in his hands. "Ava…no…" He was mumbling.
She crawled toward him, forgetting her own injury for a moment. He sensed her presence, and swept her into his arms, and held her so tight she couldn't breathe.
How come you can only hold me close when you're depressed…?
I thought you arms would feel so good if I could only be in them again…"Not like this, Riku," she whispered, struggling from his grasp. "Because you don't mean it—you don't mean any of it. I'm just something to hold on to—but I'm not your Kairi for you!"
"Don't talk about her like you know her!" he roared, leaping to his feet. Somehow those blind eyes meant moot as Riku chased Avarielle to the wall. He could sense her movements, follow her exactly until he had her pinned against the cold wood surface.
She was stepping backwards, fearful of the anger sprouting from his words and written all over his face. His eyelids were open, and the clouded seas that lay behind them were stormy. He was so big and strong and her body was so small and weak. Would he throw her again? Would he slap her? Cut her?
"You told me before," she said, unable to stop herself, "about how much could it mean for me to put my arms around you—but you do the exact same thing, only holding me when you're at your loneliest!"
"What would a prostitute know about love?" Riku was so big, breathing so hard right above her. He was sweating, he was so upset. His naked arms were pushed against the wall, the palms resting right above her shoulders.
"I know that I love you," Avarielle muttered before slipping from under his arms and running for the door.
"You're lying!" he screamed after her, disbelieving, as she stumbled out into the hall. "You must be…"
The sound of his voice faded into the distance as her bare feet pounded down the corridor. She was running, running faster than she had ever run before. Her feet knew the destination but her mind hadn't a clue.
She realized, eventually, through her flurry of tears, that she was going up. Up through the old castle to which she had never been before today. Her path led her outside and then in again repeatedly. Eventually, her run melted into near-drunken stumbling.
Up and up she wound, pressing on as the cold hair met her still damp hair and her continually moistened cheeks. Now, for most of it, she slid along the wall, the cold stone wall of the castle. Where and why was she going? Only her legs knew.
She really didn't care what was going on in the outside world. That is, the outside world being the one that existed outside of her own mind, her own squall of thoughts, her own blurry of worries.
Her memories kept flashing before her as she began to relive three different pasts, three different lives. Everything was all jumbled up, she had no idea who or where she was anymore.
Were Sora and Kairi her best friends? Was she the bringer of darkness? Or, was she simply a lonely little girl, missing her mother?
Up and up she wound, her body screaming as her muscles reached their limit. Soon, she had to drag herself as she reached what seemed to be an end to her senseless journey. She had kept pushing farther and farther.
She was in a large room, bathed in dust and the musty smell of disuse. There were six glass chambers along the walls, just big enough for a small person to fit in. She wondered, wildly, who had vacated these cavities.
The answer came and she saw herself placing helpless girls under the glass as they slept unconscious, and then she saw herself summoning up their power, and she could feel such darkness in the room…
Her mind cried out at the onslaught of paranoia.
She was going crazy, wasn't she?
Ava groped for her own memories, her own identity. Soon, her own short-term memory kicked in at last and she saw Riku throwing her to the ground and she felt the pain of his words really sink in.
Why had she been placed at his side only to watch him kill himself with self-hatred? Why could she only sit back and watch as he tortured himself with the guilt he harbored so deep inside? She was beginning to understand why he had the chains.
And soon her own feelings of helplessness were pushed out of the picture by the images of girls she had never met struggling in their prisons of glass, the feeling of immense power building up as both light and dark climaxed…
There was not enough room in her head for all of this. She grabbed the sides of her face, tearing at the hair until it ripped out, hitting her own skull until bruises formed.
Fighting…for both darkness and for light…
She tumbled to the center of the floor, her last sight the pendant flying up before her face, her last thought that one word that meant so much…
Sora…