The Eleventh Hour
By Lynx (of Organization VI)
Rating: Uh, T for Teen, I guess.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or its characters; they belong to Disney and Squeenix, respectively. No money's being made, le cry.
Summary: For Riku, his future was the same as his past.
Notes: Basically, a much more lengthy expansion on a drabble I wrote a month or so back. A lot of the ideas, theories and reasoning I need to credit Rebmakash for, because she's the smart one and thinks up all the cool stuff. I just add a lot of words onto it.
Also, a few basic lines in here are originally from Rebmakash's Secret D Reports, so she gets credit for them.
There will be KH2 SPOILERS APLENTY in this fic, so be warned.
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Chapter Ten – THE TENTH HOUR
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TICK"Something's wrong."
Riku could not remember being so nervous. He paced across the library like a caged animal; while Donald and Goofy sat at the reading table and watched him walk. A lunch assortment had been left for them, and Riku tossed an apple from said lunch from hand to hand. He didn't really feel like eating.
"It'll be okay, Riku!" Sora and Kairi'll be back any minute, and all the worlds'll be fixed," Goofy assured him. Donald, never one for being overtly optimistic, just grumbled to himself.
"I can't just stand here, though."
"If you go and the replica sees you, it'll just make things worse!" Donald reminded him.
"I know, but—" Riku stopped. The apple he's just tossed from his right hand never made it to his left. He checked around his feet, but it wasn't on the ground. It had just vanished.
"Oh no!" Goofy pointed to the bookshelves, and Riku spun to look. Books were disappearing off the shelves right before his eyes: five, ten, twenty, forty were gone in a flash. Riku's heart stopped dead as he suddenly realized he couldn't remember what the islands looked like or when his birthday was. Is this world disappearing?
"I'm going!" he yelled to Donald and Goofy.
"Waaak, wait!—" Donald cried, but he was already out the door and sprinting down the hall.
He barely paid attention to his surroundings as he ran through the halls, although out of the corners of his vision he thought he saw the gardens fade into nothing. He made it to the gummi terminal in record time, where thankfully one of the smaller transports was still docked. He glanced towards the terminal office, didn't see Cid, and decided to just start up on his own.
The gummi ship hummed to life at his command, and in a moment he was in the air. He almost threw on the extra boosters before remembering he didn't need to clear the world's wall, but still, he wasn't sure exactly where he needed to go. The edge of the world.
He pushed the throttle forward and zoomed out over the town, past its walls, past the settlements beyond it, and out into the open fields. He scanned the ground through the cockpit shield before remembering to turn on the radar. He considered flipping on the intercom and asking Chip and Dale was what happening, but he didn't want the distraction—
There. The radar found it first, and then his own eyes caught sight of the three people and the door in the field below. Lowering the ship as close as he could, he left the controls on autopilot, raised the cockpit shield and leapt out onto the grass below.
"I knew you'd show up eventually."
Riku felt a shiver course though him. It was his own voice, but he hadn't said a word. He got to his feet slowly, and finally saw it: the replica was standing against the door. Sora and Kairi faced him, both with their Keyblades drawn. They all now looked towards him.
The replica grinned at him with malice. "I know everything. Before I left, Vexen told me everything: how you're supposed to be the real Riku, and how I'm just a quick replacement so that you don't have to go back and become Xehanort."
The shiver came back, chilling his blood. "Vexen...told you..."
"Us fakes have to stick together," the replica sneered. He took a few steps away from the door, and Sora and Kairi mirrored his actions. Riku finally looked closer, and realized Sora's neck was bruised, and that Kairi was limping.
He gasped, "Listen, this world's starting to fall apart—"
"And did you even ask if I wanted to get thrown into the past and stay there? Did you ask if, maybe, I wanted to live my own life instead of being your pawn? No, of course not!" the replica continued, his tone accusing.
"We didn't have any other choice!" Sora cried.
"Only because your real friend was too cowardly to just own up and walk through the door himself," the replica yelled back. "So he has some replacement go instead!"
Even though he couldn't exactly remember it, the feelings of the first time he'd been called a coward from his own mouth rushed back and flooded his face with hot anger. He jumped to his feet and summoned his Keyblade, yelling, "I am not a coward!"
The replica seemed to realize he was outnumbered, and glanced back and forth between the three with nervous eyes. However, his voice still held a wild confidence. "I'm not going back there, and you can't make me! I'll my own life, not how you dictate it!"
Kairi still tried to convince him with words. "You have to go back! If this world disappears, then you won't even have your own life!"
"I'd rather take you all with me!"
Riku seethed, his arms almost shaking with fury. He hated hearing such words come out of his own mouth, with his own voice. It's as if Vexen took all the dark in me and made it walk and talk in my body.
The replica glared back into his eyes. "I know what you're thinking. And yes, I am different from you. I'm better than you. All your powers, your abilities that are merely mediocre in your hands? I have them all, enhanced by Vexen. You're the one who's the worn out copy."
He suddenly fell headlong into the grass, shoved to the side by the blunt end of Sora's Keyblade. "If you think Riku's a coward, then try us!"
A flowered Keyblade blocked his way back up, and he followed the line of the blade to Kairi. She added, "We don't want to do this to you, but we can't let Riku go!"
The replica snarled, and raised one hand. A burst of dark energy rose up from the ground and knocked her into the air. She landed hard on her shoulder, eliciting cries of "KAIRI!" from both Sora and Riku. He jumped to his feet as if to attack Sora next, but Riku grabbed him in a headlock from behind and held him down. "Sora, help me!"
Sora grave a brief glance back at Kairi to make sure she was okay before nodding back at him in return. He ran to the door and pulled it open fully. Hot air spilled into the fields, but it was impossible to see what lay beyond. He then rushed to grab the replica by one shoulder, while Riku held firmly onto the other. The replica struggled against them with wild thrashes and kicks, but with their combined strength they held him fast.
Riku tried not to look into his mad green eyes as they dragged him to the open door. The replica, realizing he was overpowered, began to yell at the top of his voice. "This isn't my choice! This isn't my choice!"
"It's mine," he said, and they reached the door.
The replica finally caught his gaze, and he couldn't tear it away. "I swear to you, I will make you pay for this! I will make you suffer!"
"You already have."
With a mighty heave, he and Sora thrust the Riku replica through the door. The moment the sound of his fall echoed back, they both turned around and slammed the door shut.
For what seemed an eternity, they didn't move. The only sound was the squelching of grass as Kairi limped back over to them. "Is it done? Is everything fixed?"
Sora looked around at the fields and open sky. "I don't know. But everything feels okay. We have to go back to the castle and make sure the worlds are all right."
"Then let's lock this thing so there's no way the replica can come back here," she said with no small amount of guilt.
"Wait."
The two turned to look at Riku, who was staring hard at the door. "Riku?"
He stepped forward and put his hands on the handles. "There's just...I need to do something."
He could almost hear the panicked tone in their voices. "Wait, Riku, don't!—"
The door creaked open again at his pull, and he gave them what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'll be right back, I promise! Don't lock the door until I get back."
Before they could protest any further, he stepped through the door and into blinding light.
TOCKHe tried to open his eyes, but saw nothing but blinding white, and he squeezed them back shut. He thought he heard a sound, but it felt a thousand miles away, like all sensation. I'm dreaming. No, this felt too real to be a dream. I've died, and this is what comes after death. Nothing but white forever.
But slowly, the sound became more distinct, and he realized it was a voice. He tried to move, but his limbs felt numb. His entire body was numb except his throat, which screamed for water. He was so thirsty, and all he could think of was a desert, an endless desert whose dust clung to him and caked his lips.
"Water..."
At forcing the word out of his mouth, the light finally came into focus. There were two soft lights shining on him, and sunlight poured in from a nearby window. He was laying on a bed, or maybe a couch, covered in soft sheets. He could now hear a sound like waterfalls outside, and he smelled fresh flowers. Not a dream, not an afterlife. An oasis?
He was not alone. A man strode up to him, dressed in a white lab coat and long red scarf, and carrying a damp washcloth. His face was worn with the care and wisdom of many years, although his long blond hair seemed like it should've been lighter and grayer for his age. The man smiled broadly at him. "Oh good, you're awake. Here, drink this."
The man handed him a glass of water, which he took and gulped down between thankful gasps. As soon as he downed the entire glass, he tried to sit up. "Who are you? Where am I?"
"Now settle down, you're still quite weak." The man pressed the damp washcloth against his forehead, wiping away some of the heat of his fever. "As for your questions: my name is Ansem. You are in a place called Radiant Garden, and I am what you may call a servant of this world."
He tried to calm his racing breath, but questions still burned in his mind. "How did I get here?"
"I make travels around the edges of the city periodically. I found you in the desert, not far from the front gates." Concern came through Ansem's voice. "You were very badly beaten and sick from the heat. Nearly dead, even. I brought you back here and have been tending to your injuries for the past two days."
He looked down at himself, and discovered he'd also been dressed in white. He thought maybe he'd had different clothes before, but the memory was blurry. He glanced back up at Ansem, suddenly suspicious. "Why did you help me? Do you want something from me?"
Ansem suppressed a chuckle. "My my, so many questions! And I was afraid we'd have trouble getting you to talk."
"Then you can answer them," he said, rubbing at a slight pain in his temple.
"I want nothing more from you than a full recovery," Ansem replied. "But I have some questions, too. What is your name?"
My name? He opened his mouth, waiting for the right combination of letters to fall from it. But nothing came. Instead, all he heard was a voice echoing in his head: You're just another just another just another just—
"Anot—" He started to say it, but stopped himself. The word felt dirty and hated on his tongue. He wanted to twist the word, undo it, change it into something better...
"Tora...Zuh...Xehanort," he finally blurted. Not Another, but better. Xehanort.
Ansem considered this, seeming to know that he's just come up with the name. "Xehanort. I'm glad I finally know your name. Now, I've been around this world for a long while, but I don't believe I've ever seen you before. Where are you from?"
He reached into his mind for an answer, but like his name, he came back with nothing. "I don't remember."
"What do you remember?" Ansem asked carefully.
The ache in his head grew worse, and he massaged at it, wincing. "I can't...I can't remember anything! My home or my family or...nothing!" The realization sent panic coursing through his veins. I'm nothing, I'm no one. I have nowhere to go, no one to be. I have no past, I have no future. "I can't remember anything!"
Ansem put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You're still recovering, Xehanort. I have dealt with cases of amnesia before. It is possible that with enough time and rest, the memories will return to you."
Xehanort couldn't shake the hollow feeling inside him. "What if they don't return? What if they never return? What will happen to me then?"
"I assure you, we will not throw you out into the street. You will be taken care of." His eyes met Ansem's, and he found himself startled by how bright and orange they were on the other man. "I could not call myself a servant of this world if I couldn't help every person in need, be they from this city or not. I will help you discover who you really are."
He finally calmed a little, and looked to the ground. "You've done all this for me so far. I still feel like you'd want something in return."
Ansem busied himself with rinsing off the washcloth and folding up the sheets for changing. "Well, if you must insist on something in return, perhaps we can discuss it later. For now, you just concentrate on getting well. There's a room prepared for you already, and you can stay there as soon as you're ready to move out of the infirmary."
He tried to think of something else to say, but there was only one response necessary. "Thank you."
Ansem just nodded. Xehanort let out a long breath, barely able to soak in so much information. He had a thousand more questions begging to be asked, but for now they would have to wait. He let himself take in the softness of the sheets, the babble of fountains, and the overwhelming smell of flowers.
A small part of him felt comforted, and suddenly, the image of a young girl standing by the ocean came to his mind.
He didn't know where he came from, but for now, this would be his home.
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