Most nights, I dream of him.
My eyes always open – after being closed for, what? Seconds? Years? – and all I see is him. Of course, it's him. Nothing had changed. Same shining eyes, same spiky hair, and that smile. That grin. Etched across his face like nothing had happened. Like the shadows hadn't opened up and swallowed us whole. Like the world wasn't shaking and crumbling around us. Smiling, like we were on our little beach in the middle of an island in the middle of nowhere, watching the sunset.
But things had changed. From a glance, I could tell. His eyes had seen things he couldn't unsee. His hair was covered in soot and dust. But that smile… It was still Sora's smile. Still comforting, calm, and perfect.
How dare he smile.
He held his smile as he caught my eye, as I noticed what was in his hands, and the smile didn't disappear when he drove that blade into his chest. Everything else did. Vanished in a flash of light. And I'm screaming and crying and calling his name as I'm ushered away down some stairs, through collapsing ceilings and monstrous moans, and then I wake.
His smile lingers amongst the shadows. It hides in the contours of the ceiling. It curls into the corners of my room. I know it's trying to comfort me, but it just taunts me. Haunts me. I rarely make it back to sleep.
Master Aqua knows when I've had this dream. Her worrying glances always linger a second longer than she means them to. It's one of the many things I've picked up on from her. If the competition weren't so fierce, I would say no one was striving to bring Sora back harder than her. But Riku is more determined than ever before, Donald and Goofy are delving deep into the Underworld and back, and I…
I can't stop seeing that damned smile.
It's the same smile he gave me the day he disappeared. When we were older, stronger, and seemingly at peace. As we sat on our log, on our island, looking at our sunset. As he wiped the tear from my eye and pretended that I didn't notice the tears in his. And he said nothing. He didn't have to. He just smiled. And then, gone.
I dream about that smile too. I can't tell which is crueller. Both haunt me when I close my eyes, and then I have to continue with my life as if they don't. No one else sees them. They're just for me. Our little secret. Our wayfinder. Our private Paopu fruits.
I hate that smile. In my weakest moments of bitterness, frustration, rage, I curse Sora and I curse that smile. How dare he smile. How dare he smile and vanish and leave me here to pick up the pieces. To carry on, as I if I didn't watch him die. Twice. How dare he look into my eyes and grin and just…
But I love that smile. Because that smile is Sora. And I can't hate him.
Some nights, when the dream has woken me, I stand at my window, and I look out at the stars. Thousands of other worlds twinkling in the distance. I try to pick out which ones he's seen, which ones he brought joy to, and which ones we'll go to together once he comes back. Sometimes I take a finger, and I draw a line, tracing through the constellations, until the stars themselves are smiling down at me. I think of him. I see him in the sky, floating or falling, almost asleep. I know he's waiting, out there, somewhere, and I know he's smiling for me.
And sometimes, I smile back.
