The man had coffee-colored hair streaked with white. He had a pair of gold-framed glasses dangling from a chain about his neck. He had a white collared shirt with a faded blue sweater vest over it and dark slacks.
"We thought you were dead," the man said. Some of his white streaks fell across a forehead littered with wrinkles; others were pushed back over his ears with the rest of the thinning brown. His eyes were set deep in his face.
"So everyone keeps telling me," the man's son replied.
A woman with sandy blond hair and fair blue eyes emerged. She was wearing a nondescript dress with a white apron. The years had been kinder to her than to her sixty-something husband, but she was still looking older. She had worry lines carved into her brow, and a few crow's feet accenting tired eyes.
In her hands was a pot of coffee, and this she proceeded to serve.
Sora took up his mug and leaned back, respecting the silence. There had been a lot of tears this morning when he first arrived. Now he was to try to explain everything to his parents, two people who only had the slightest inkling of his adventures.
"Get me my pipe, would you?" the father said, addressing his wife.
The woman shot him a look of dismay, but he stared her down.
"You know that stuff is no good for you," she snapped, but it was a halfhearted effort; he just glared and she relented and fetched the thing.
"Since when did you start smoking again, Dad?" Sora asked.
"Ten years ago," his mother interjected. "And look what it's done to him."
"I'm fine," the older man insisted, at the same time pounding his chest.
"Damn it all," she whispered. "Just listen to him cough! You're killing yourself, old man."
"Look here, woman. It calms me." He took a long draw of the pipe, and puffed smoke rings into the air.
Sora frowned. He'd never known his parents to bicker like this. Not seriously. They used to only tease each other. Sora could remember his mother joking about his father eating too many desserts, or something silly as that.
He studied his father carefully. All Sora could think was, He looks so…old. I can't believe it. Like he's seventy instead of sixty. Damn, Mom's right about the pipe. It's killing him.
The woman turned her attentions back to her son. "You all right, Sora? Want me to fix you some lunch?"
"Not yet. Thanks though, Mom." He gave her one of his big grins, the sort he had worn every day as a child.
His mother seemed suddenly like she might crumble. Tears shone in her eyes, and she embraced him tightly.
"Welcome home, my son," she whispered.
Sora wept.
He was tired of fighting. Tired of being alone. But both were realities that seemed endless. Cruel, but endless.
Sora lay stretched his body across the cold, wet stone. He had recently defeated the last of the Heartless in this realm, recently sealed the world with his Keyblade. He no longer felt any accomplishment from this. It wasn't anything new. How many years had he been "adventuring?" How many worlds had he sealed? How many Heartless had he slain?
A strange sort of grin proceeded to settle on Sora's face, and he laughed, out loud, in the darkness. The bitter sound echoed through the hollow cave.
A final question had risen in his mind then, and the thought had indeed pushed him to the brink of madness.
How many days have I spent alone?
There were so many things of which he had lost track. He was sure the numbers were right up there with infinity.
But there was one count he knew all too well.
How many tears have been shed for my lost friends?
Zero.
Sora sighed, let the water from the stalactites drip down his face, let this replace the tears that should have but refused to come.
There are many horrible feelings in the world, Sora concluded. Many of which he had firsthand experience. But perhaps the one that brought about the most guilt, the most internal torment…
The want of tears but the lack thereof. The conscious knowledge that something within the heart is freezing…but possessing no means to stop it.
He knew there was one person in the universe that could melt his heart no matter what. But would he ever see her again?
Doubtful.
~*~
The house was empty that evening, that time when twilight settled upon it. There was no one to cook dinner for tonight. No one to read to. No one to talk with while sipping tea.
Sora was spending his third night with his parents. Nadia was staying over at a friend's. And Riku… Riku had been gone all day.
Kairi sat in the living room, holding a glass of room temperature water that had, at one time, been ice cold. The sun was all but gone, yet the lanterns swung unlit. The windows were open and the cool evening breeze dove in and out of them, sometimes stopping to play with the woman's hair.
It was so…quiet.
She wanted to hold her ears and block it out. She wasn't used to being alone. There hadn't been a night in a long time when she had had time and no one to spend it with.
Kairi was always around people. She was always talking to Selphie or watching over Nadia or doing something with someone.
Now she felt…empty.
And she didn't like it.
Come on, you can be self-sufficient! You don't need anyone else around to have a good time. Come on, Kairi. Don't be like this. Don't be so lonely…
She stood up then, and resigned herself to have an enjoyable evening. There were plenty of things to do by herself, right?
Kairi's first order of business was to go to the kitchen and start some water boiling over the fireplace. She took a quick bath and then headed upstairs and changed into a pair of comfortable black shorts and a baby blue spaghetti strap shirt. She took out her ponytail and let her hair loose, a trailing maroon-red veil.
She felt a lot more comfortable in these clothes, a lot more relaxed. She sat by her vanity and brushed the veil of hair so it both looked and felt smooth as silk. Perfect.
Downstairs, the water was far past boiling. Kairi grabbed the kettle from the fireplace and poured it over the tealeaves in the readied pot. While the tea was steeping, she grabbed a newspaper from the study and brought it to the kitchen table. Here she sat and read of the events on the larger islands.
When it came time to fetch a mug from the cupboard, Kairi had to stop herself from taking two. She paused here, in front of the dishes. She wasn't used to being alone. She didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.
Is it because I'm weak? she wondered, finally taking a single cup to the table. I can't stand on my own two legs? I need someone to take care of, or I need someone to take care of me? I can't just take care of myself, lean on myself?
The silence was almost deafening now. All she heard were her own thoughts echoing inside her brain.
If this keeps up, I'll go insane.
She began to hum. She poured herself the fresh tea and hummed. It was no song in particular. The notes went up and down, were long and short. She'd never claimed to have any musical talent, but what did it matter now?
Before she knew it, Kairi was singing the notes with her mouth open. She leaned back in the chair, bare legs crossed, wrists on the table, and sang.
Suddenly, she heard a huge clattering from behind, and a thump.
Kairi spun and saw Riku slumped in the doorway, barely standing.
"That was a nice song," he said. He was breathing a little hard.
Kairi ignored his comment and went to him. With shock she observed a slightly sunken, pale face and red eyes. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah…"
"You're a liar," she told him, gripping his shoulders with both hands. "And not a very convincing one."
She helped him into a chair at the table and fetched a basin and a washcloth. She helped him clean his face. It looked like there was a little bit of dried vomit on his lip, but she said nothing while wiping it away. He washed his mouth out three times with water and she finished cleaning up.
She served him tea and offered him a comb. He took both, drank and combed.
When this was done he looked slightly less pale and sunken, and his eyes were more pink than red.
"Are you hungry? Can I fix you something to eat?"
Kairi was standing over him, her hand lingering on Riku's shoulder. He looked up at her placidly. She knew she would never forget how tired his eyes looked.
"I'll take that as a yes…"
She heated some broth for him and made sure he drank it.
"More?"
"No, thank you."
Kairi sat down with her tea. It had gone cold but she drank it anyway and poured herself a new mug. This had been steeping for a long time, and was incredibly dark and strong.
Her eyes wandered—desperate to land anywhere but his tired eyes—and found themselves instead resting on his bare leg. There was a gash there, sealed with dried blood. She gasped, and he looked down, acting like this was the first time he had noticed it too.
"I slipped on some rocks," he told her.
Riku slipped on rocks? No way. She had always known him to be surefooted. He could run on slippery wood and rocks—he did so all the time. He was too swift, strong, and coordinated to be taken down by a few rocks.
"I felt sort of woozy and slipped," he said to answer her questions, which apparently he had heard by way of extrasensory perception. "It was dark, and I was a little out of it."
What he said next meant that Kairi was not doing a very good job of hiding her emotions.
"Hey, don't look so worried. It's just a little cut."
"Of course I'm worried about you, Riku," she said, sniffling a little. "You're acting really strange lately. You've always been really focused. You wouldn't be 'out of it' if something wasn't seriously wrong."
"Maybe I have the flu or something. I'll be fine."
"You haven't had any more of those bad headaches, have you?"
Riku looked a little shocked, and then shook his head. "No, don't worry about that."
"You tell me not to worry, but it's impossible." Kairi stood and began to clear the dishes. "Can you stand? I think you should go lie down."
He shakily became vertical. "I'm all right."
"You're lying again," she tsked, getting under his right arm and looping it around her shoulder. "Lean on me. I'll help you."
They made their way up the stairs, a little slowly, a little clumsily. Riku was far too much taller than Kairi for her to work properly as a crutch, but she put in a lot of effort. All the way up, she gripped his hand tightly against her bare shoulder and spoke softly to him.
They came to his bedroom and he lay on top of the sheets. Kairi piled two pillows under his head and sat down next to him, one bare leg folded beneath her. She cupped one of his hands in both of her own.
"Do you feel better now?" she wondered, still whispering.
"Yes," Riku told her, and it was the first time Kairi didn't suspect dishonesty.
"You know, Riku…"
"Yeah?"
"I'm here. If you're sick, I'll be happy to take care of you."
He moved his head back and forth, a little drowsily. "You don't have to worry."
"Hey, I'm serious here. You mean a lot to me, Riku."
He closed his eyes. "…Thanks."
She tensed a little, wondering what this indifferent response was all about. There was no way he had heard what she said to Sora…was there? Even if he had, he would know that she hadn't intended the words to come out quite that way…
Wouldn't he?
"I'll let you rest then," Kairi said, getting ready to stand.
His fingers tightened around hers. "Wait… Hey…you couldn't sit with me for a while, could you?"
She settled back down on the bed and squeezed his hand. "I'd be happy to."
Kairi didn't know why, but she decided to kiss his forehead. In her mind, she begged for his forgiveness. Riku, you do know I love you, right?
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Hey, not a bad chapter…I hope. Everyone understanding the flashbacks all right? I don't need to insert a flashing label that screams *~!FlasHbACk%$ , do I? Just tell me if that would help. Hmm… Know what? I don't want to take finals. Yuck. They're a week and a half away… ;_; It's really hard to believe the school year is almost over… Well, no it's not. That explains why I have so many projects and crap. I swear, teachers should plan better so there isn't so much stuff thrown in at the end. @_@
