A/N: Riku makes me soo sad. Everytime I think of his story I just think…he's lived such a horrible life. At least Sora had friends. But what did Riku have? Nothing but darkness. Nothing but hatred. And even those destroyed him. He's so strong. He makes me want to cry. Sigh.
Oh yes, MAJOR SPOILS GAH.
Disclaimer: I LOVE YOU creators of Riku. You made him beautiful. I wish I could own him.
Painful Truth
His eyes couldn't lie.
That darkness…that evil that had consumed him…it was still there, lurking beyond his irises, flaring up whenever he opened his eyes.
He felt the searing pain that the darkness had held upon him. He was free of it now, free of the evil darkness. He could control it; he could use it as a path as Sora had used the light.
Grimacing, Riku rubbed at his eyes wearily. The black cloak he was wearing veiled him in the shadows of the buildings, their neon lights twinkling around him. The city was completely silent, except for the scuttling of stray Heartless. The sky was, as always, grey and cloudy, rumbling with hidden thunder.
He had come to this alley to think and just…be. He knew that as hard as he tried, he couldn't hide his past. His eyes screamed his story out loud and clear everytime they fluttered open.
Traitor…!
Murderer…!
You don't deserve to live!
Letting out a soft groan, Riku lifted his hands away from his and stared down at his gloved palms, flexing his fingers.
His eyes couldn't lie.
He had never been well at lying. Well at boasting, well at bragging, well at fighting. But never at lying, even just with words. But Sora had always said it was his eyes that gave him away.
He gave a lop-sided smirk. What would his best friend say if he looked into his eyes now? He would be sickened. He would hate Riku for what he had become; a monster, incapable of breaking loose of the chains he continued to tell himself were forever gone.
Gone from his mind, gone from his body, gone from his heart…but not his eyes.
Dammit! Why did everything have to be s screwed up? Why did everything have to go wrong? Why did Riku have to be so weak? So…horrible?
He rubbed at his eyes again, but this time to dry them of the tears that were slowly starting to leak out of the corners. He had to be strong…he had to be, when before he had been so weak and given up so easily.
But it wasn't that simple! He had been through so much; pain, torture, darkness, swirling endless darkness, no hope, no light; no happiness had found his heart in what seemed like a lifetime. He didn't deserve to be what he was now; a spy, incapable of anything but following King Mickey around like the obedient dog he was.
He felt a sob rising in his throat; with a scowl, he restrained it. He wouldn't cry. That was impossible. He had to be strong.
His eyes couldn't lie…Fists dug around in a cloak pocket, searching. Finally, he extracted a long, silk cloth. It was black and opaque. He let it rest on his palm, the ends fluttering in a light breeze. Tears fell from his eyes and onto the cloth, which instantly absorbed them as if they had never existed. But Riku knew better.
What about Kairi? Would she scream? Would she hate him forever? After all, he had been part of her capture—part of her imminent death. What had happened to him? How could he have ever, EVER imagined killing his friends? They must hate him now. There was no other explanation. He had been a beast, savage and attacking, lurking and seeking. He had been no better then Ansem. No better than darkness itself.
I had no light, he thought miserably. I lost the only things important to me. My light…it's gone. They're gone. I've lost them forever.
His shoulders shook as silent sobs wracked his body. Tears trickled down his face, fell into the air and onto the cloth that was now scrunched tightly in his clenched fist. He didn't know what to do. He felt so…lost.
With eyes like the ones he had, how was he supposed to see? To live? All he could ever feel was darkness, itching in him and scratching him. He wanted it gone. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see Sora and Kairi and apologize. He wanted them to forgive him, to welcome him home.
He knew it was impossible. With eyes like his, who would even think of such a thing?
Riku's eyes had dried now. His one hand drifted to the end of the cloth, and his other hand picked up the far end. Glaring at it, he squeezed his eyes shut once, and then opened them once more.
What was he going to look at? In his last moments with sight, what would he see? He lifted his head to see a window opposite of him. It was completely dark, leading to an empty building. He saw his own face, shining with drying tears. He saw his hair, mussed and growing longer.
And Riku saw his eyes.
Bright turquoise, a color not often seen in the eyes of humans. They were liquidy and almond-shaped. He had always been proud of his eyes; he had called them his 'lady killers' in his obnoxious days.
But now when he looked at them, all he saw was two dull holes, empty and useless and now longer sparkling with the youthfulness he had once possessed.
Riku had always wanted to grow up. Too often he saw himself more mature than his friends. Now—he realized as he stared into his eyes, too disgusted to even look away—he saw that he had grown up too fast. At nearly sixteen, he was already a man that had seen too much.
With a determined squaring of his shoulders, Riku glared at his eyes. "I hate you," he whispered quietly, and with that he tied the band of cloth around his face. Darkness instantly smothered him, and as he tied the knot tightly he found his breathing growing quicker. Darkness all around, everywhere he looked…his eyes, they could still see; this was what he saw wherever he looked anyway.
He wanted to scream. He took a step, and heard the thud of rubber and metal. That was when it hit him.
I'm not in the dark anymore.
He felt his heart beating. His heart, not Ansem's or the dark's or Maleficent's heart. His.
Riku felt a small glow warming his heart. No need to get excited, he thought sternly. It's only the first step.
And as he reached his hand out to feel for a wall to follow, he felt the familiar anger rising that he had been able to smother for a few short seconds. His steps were short and sharp; his hand still drifted alongside the wall beside him.
"I hate you!" he yelled louder, hearing his voice echo through the silent city. He felt a strange sense of accomplishment. "I hate you!" he screamed louder, even though his eyes were covered and he didn't have to worry about lying anymore.
But was hiding any better?
It wasn't hiding, he told himself. It was training. Preparing for the day he would meet Sora again and show him—prove to him—that he was different.
And as Riku walked quickly through the city, crying out his lamentation, the blindfold that hid his eyes and his lies did nothing to cover the tears that fell steadily from behind it.
Fin