a.n/ XD this is the crack!chapter. but it got me out of my block, so, yay. I wish I could do longer chaps, but, I cna't. WOE. Also, the first 6 are going to be RIku POV, seventh a joint Riku/Roxas POV and the last six are Roxas reflecting. (I think of it as a parabola, but...I dunno.) Oh, and KH isn't mine. ;; if it was there would be Akuroku sans angst.
theme iii. valor
Their second meeting is more of a continuation of their first than anything else. The blond Sora smirks from under his hood and swipes Oathkeeper through the air threateningly. Riku chokes on his hysterical laughter, because it looks like nothing but Sora playing make believe and trying to be cool. He's probably pouting because his disguise didn't get the proper reaction out of Riku; oh god, this is what crazy feels like, isn't it?
He snaps out of it just in time to stop Oblivion from parting his head from his shoulders. The chafing on his cheekbones distracts him, as his eyes dart back and forth in animal confusion, leaving almost-Sora an opening which, of course, he takes. It wasn't a fair move, and Riku barely stops himself from asking Sora what the hell he's playing at before he remembers that this isn't Sora and he doesn't exactly have any valor either, kicking out and catching his opponent in the knees. The other boy hisses and jumps back, allowing Riku to struggle to his feet.
Why do you have a keyblade, the blond boy snaps, I'm the keyblade master. And he looks so serious (because Riku can see everything without his eyes, oh, and the hood has fallen down to his shoulders) that it's horribly amusing; the boy obviously doesn't remember Sora. Riku is tempted to pull the blindfold from his eyes and let his face be seen, to see if it jogs memory, but he's too afraid. If the shadow rejects him, Sora has rejected him and the thought has haunted him for years. He settles for a quiet chuckle and shake of his head.
You don't know anything, do you? You aren't anything. Not a keyblade master, not even a real person. The words are accidents, and oh, how he wishes he could take them back. But then the face before him contorts in fierce anger and rage, no tears that Sora would have shed, and Riku doesn't feel quite so bad. This isn't Sora, and he couldn't hate him more for it. Hate him for making him love this, this mockery. He would stay and confront this boy whose name, he notes idly, he doesn't even know.
But he's a coward, so he flees into the comfort of darkness.