A/N: Ohhh I really didn't mean to take this long to update this one.
But I'm so ecstatic to finally get out a new chapter, it took me a good month to write it and for now, I'm proud of it. I hope you like it!
So many, many, countless thanks to Eli for beta-reading this piece and making sure characterizations and other deeper layers are a good fit,
this work would not have survived without your help, love, and support. 3
When she brushed her hair, she did so alone - without the mirror, without anyone watching. After the bristles glided easily and she felt finished, she'd pat it flat, smoothing out the ends just in case she missed a knot or two. If there were any loose strands, they'd be damned.
It was a still night, the curtains drawn with no wind to disturb the glass, and no whispers behind an unseen reflection of her mirror, which to this hour stood pathetically underneath a discarded bedsheet. No sound disturbed her, and it would have been peaceful silence if she didn't have thoughts - until there was a soft knock on her door.
Terra opened it for himself. "Hey."
And Aqua couldn't help but smile. "Hey."
Interrupting them was a loud bang, like a lamp falling over, tussling some furniture. She tensed up, expecting something to endanger the safety of her room, maybe even another episode - the last one with Terra was something she still could not put to rest.
Aqua was ready, a list of spells reciting in her mind. But Terra's quiet chuckle gave her the indication that everything was as normal as it should be.
There was laughter down the hall, a squeak and a giggle. Ventus was fine.
"It sounds like those two are going to keep me up all night," Terra said with an exasperated smirk. "You know, I'm glad that Cheers came to us."
Part of her agreed - Chirithy's arrival meant that Ventus slept happily, soundly.
And through the entire night, bless that cat-thing.
But part of her didn't want new adventures. Something was still... weird, and she wished to have her family together without any fear, without wondering if she had to prepare for any surprises.
She kept those thoughts to herself.
"They'll be asleep before you know it," she said. Call it denial but it was better to count their blessings and hope there were more where they came from.
"How are you doing tonight?" He stayed at her doorframe, head peeking in like he was testing the waters, to see if he was trespassing - not that he ever could, he was the one thing that brightened up the night.
It was slick of him to ask that question when so many others would have been more accurate to how he really felt: Are you okay? Has anything scared you? Do you need me to stay with you? Would you like to come to my room?
Maybe even: I need you, too.
Aqua nodded slowly in response, rolling her words in her mouth before she spoke as much as she fiddled with the brush in her hands.
Yes, of course she wanted him to stay. There was no denying that she wanted to be near him.
But no. She had rejected his offer for three nights now and she hated it. But still, no.
There were things that she didn't want him to see. Not just yet, anyway.
"I'm doing okay," she said. "I'm thinking of staying here for tonight."
She should not make herself into a burden when she was already compromised: a Keyblade Master without a Keyblade. It wasn't Aqua's style to need this much, so the best defense for now was to steel herself and fight her battles like nothing had changed.
Except losing a Keyblade was a huge deal so she had to get creative in order to look like she still had her life together.
Needless to say, her boys weren't very impressed with how she was doing so far.
"Okay." His voice was respectful but his eyes… disappointed. He rubbed her doorframe, like he was comforting it, and she might as well tell him it was obvious the gesture was really for himself. "If you need anything-"
"I know where to find you." She smiled. Who knew if it was convincing.
"Yeah." He patted the doorframe once, and forced a smile. "Good night."
"Night."
He closed the door behind him, and she waited for the sounds.
Footsteps faded away, first over to the left, with muffled voices to check if everyone else was tucked in and ready for sleep. Then to the right where a door opened, and before it closed, the sound of a loud flick of the light switch. Light that crept under her door was now darkness.
She threw herself out of her chair, to lock her door before she cast Reflect on it, protecting her from whatever stood waiting outside in the hallway.
It wasn't enough of course. She cast Reflect on her mirror, the bedsheet covering it just as necessary.
She cast Reflect on her closet.
To her bathroom door.
The window.
This was her new ritual, and she dared darkness to be brave enough and break through. She sat on her bed with her legs crossed, like she was ready to calm down now but there was no telling her heart that it could finally breathe easy.
The light from her ceiling glared on, suffocating the glow coming from her bedside lamp. They were brand new light bulbs, too fresh to make any physical sound yet they were still louder than sirens and they kept her up every night because they did their job too well.
Aqua wanted to be in Terra's arms; she needed to hear his heartbeat, needed to see that his eyes were still blue.
Needed. It was time to do away with that.
Eventually, her body would do what was natural when it was exhausted enough, getting her to pull the covers over, getting her under the drone of sleep.
When her body eventually did its job, she saw what her mind dared her to see: a black horned monster, its blue veins pumping with energy, its snarled teeth trapped behind bandages, hovering right at her door without an introduction.
She made sure to lock it; she swore she did and here it was anyway.
The monster turned her lights off, and most of it disappeared in the shadows, its yellow eyes still hovering in space.
Aqua could not move her body, and she willed the monster away - there was still strength there, all she had to do was get up, it shouldn't be this hard. She fought it before without a Keyblade and could do it again.
It floated over to her bedside and there it was, face to face with her, heavy breaths counting down to when it would start.
At first, it almost reached to touch her, but instead its fingers grasped the fabric of the bandages crossing over its mouth, struggling at first to take them off but finally succeeding. It said her name.
Aqua…
All the while a cat with red eyes watched on by her windowsill.
The only cure for a bad night's sleep was tea in the morning. Despite her pounding headache, Aqua prepared herself with three open books for a hard study on how to brew the best.
She was not the resident tea expert - that title went to Terra - but she liked to play an aggressive game and wanted to impress. The books were spread on the countertop: one for tea with fruits, one for spices, and one all about the philosophy of brewing different types, at what temperatures, and for how long.
Aqua chose the hard route by creating a new brew instead of following a simple recipe - last night had defeated her, and she really needed to win at something that didn't make her feel like she was a lost cause.
She opened the cupboard for two mugs to find that she only need one.
The Master's mug, this enormous ceramic perfection with a painted, curled mustache near the rim. He loved drinking out of this, the joke being that if he ever wanted to change his style, he could always do so in the mornings with a side of coffee. The size of it made it more like a chalice than anything else that was proper for a kitchen.
It was one of the things neither of them could bring themselves to throw away.
Terra claimed it for himself now, toying with the idea of growing out facial hair but never following through with it.
In the Master's chalice, she mixed her concoction: ginger tea with turmeric and orange slices.
She checked each of her books one more time, making sure that her equations were correct, that she brewed something worthwhile. She took one little sip - meh, it was decent enough, and now she was nervous that he wouldn't like it.
Voices floated near the dining room - it was curtain time.
Ventus spoke first, his tone anxious, like he was desperate and needy. "I don't know, man… You know Aqua. She's going to kill you."
"Ven," Terra replied to shut him up. "What else do you-"
A sigh.
"Everything's going to be fine, buddy," Terra said, and she was certain what followed was a rustle through Ven's hair.
Years later and it was still second nature for all of them not to take Ventus seriously. She felt bad for him.
The door opened and only Terra came through, making her wonder if Ventus was now sulking - if he was, he didn't turn to either of them anymore. He turned to Chirithy.
"It smells great in here," he said as though he didn't suspect that Aqua heard anything.
Which put her in an awkward situation - ask for what they were talking about, or keep it a pleasant morning?
...Was she really that traumatized that she had to be worried over what Terra was up to? She should (and would) trust him.
"Look what I did," she said instead, displaying the chalice proudly with a half-full teapot over the bar that stood in between them. She didn't say anything else, giving him the opening to volunteer the information himself.
He did not. He smirked. "Let's see how well you performed, Master."
The rim of this quirky mug approached his lips, a huge caricatured mustache now donned across his face right under his nose, like a portrait of an era from long ago. It almost made him look like Master Eraqus; she really should take a picture.
His sip was purposefully loud, the smack of his tongue vibrant as he tested the flavor, a gentle swallow when he finished - he did all this without ever breaking his gaze on her, and Aqua found that she quite enjoyed the way he looked at her, and she definitely noticed how comfortable it was to stare back.
"I'm actually quite impressed," he said as he set the mug down.
"Seriously?" She didn't think it was anything special, so she grabbed it and brought it to her own lips.
Hm, oddly it tasted better. Maybe she always thought his tea tasted amazing because he always shared it with her.
His chuckles interrupted her drink. "Facial hair looks good on you," he said.
"You're not as clever as you think you are."
"I am." He took the mug back. "You're stealing from me."
Laughing almost felt normal, like they hadn't lost anything and they didn't have to be afraid of losing again.
He stopped himself from drinking more to stare in awe of her smile.
Then he shrugged it off and darted his eyes somewhere else - to the floor - as he sipped, sinking into a thought that took some of his joy away.
"What is it?" she asked.
If anything, she was grateful he didn't try to lie about it. "I've decided what I want to do."
This day was always going to come, she knew it. The easiest, most joyful days were always the first to slip away and she told herself the entire time she anticipated it that it didn't mean they would be separated. She had to believe that.
"Let's hear it."
He brought himself to look at her in the eyes. "I want to train with Riku, take as much time as I can with him before he leaves."
It made sense. It also meant that he chose Riku as his Master.
"He'll be good for you," she said.
Something about the way he avoided her gaze told her that there was more to it. "Aqua, I'll be meeting him in Destiny Islands."
"You-" She inhaled. "You won't be training in the castle?"
"No."
All she was able to will out of herself was to stare at her fingers, reminding herself that every student of the Keyblade deserved privacy for their personal growth and it wasn't anything personal.
"It's not anything to do with you. It's just…" Tears formed behind his eyes and he blinked them away. "Every morning, every night, every moment no matter how distracted I am or how detailed I plan a better future, all I have left to come to is myself."
"Terra..." Ever since they came home, he had a nasty self-hating habit and most of the time she wasn't confident that her words would comfort him.
How many times would she tell him that she was proud of him? How many times did he say that she had no reason to?
And what was the point for all this self-flagellation when she understood him more than he realized?
She nearly told him - nearly - but there was something as thick as tar that glued her mouth together. She didn't tell him that she failed, too, that darkness took her, that she got angry, that she attacked her friends and allies.
If she said anything he would ask why it happened, and there wasn't a single word in the dictionary to soften the blow.
"Listen," he said, bringing his hand close to hers, stopping himself from asking her to take it. "Either way, I want you to be the one to test for my Mark of Mastery."
Her eyes met his. "You sure?"
"Yes. I want - no, I need you to see me at my best. Please."
She understood the words he wasn't saying: he needed to reassure himself that they were equals. In her eyes, they still were.
"I will."
Her normal Terra was back - eyes filled with determination, with hope, with the vow that he would succeed. "There's one more thing."
She scoffed. "Okay."
"I'm also going to be training with Merlin."
"Oh."
This she didn't expect: him training with a stranger when magic was her expertise. She almost asked him not to go, almost spit a long resumé of how skilled she was and surely she could teach him if he was interested.
Which meant that Terra would spend more time away from home, too. "What would you be working on?"
"Oh you know," he said, trying so hard to make her feel better. "Taming these powers some asshole who cheated death left behind for me to deal with."
He failed.
Aqua supposed that in spite of how long they had existed apart, there were still journeys they had to take alone. Maybe sooner in the future, they would all be inseparable again.
Or was that too unrealistic to believe? Since when did her Mark of Mastery promise that adulthood would be this hard?
His fingers brushed hers, hesitant at first then relieved when she reciprocated, giving her a grip so tight as if he was the one who kept her standing.
"I promise," he said, lowering his voice to a soft whisper, "I'll be home every day before the sun sets."
Terra smiled once more, stroking her thumb with his, searching her eyes, her lips, her forehead. "Just one more thing." He brushed through some straggling strands, matching one side of her head with the other, making sure she was well-kept.
She might as well melt into mush and keep him here for at least one more day, at least to prepare a proper good-bye, but Aqua stood on her own two feet so he could start his soul-searching guilt-free. "Keep your Gummiphone on you."
"You're such a mom." He gave her a gentle squeeze before letting go, the ghost of his warmth still on her. She cupped it with her other hand as if to keep it. It didn't work.
At least he humored her by showing his Gummiphone tucked in his pocket, before handing his mug over. "I'll allow you to have the rest," he said.
His footsteps echoed in the entrance hall before they were muffled by the outside, and shushed by the time he was too far away. He bid his farewell to Eraqus' memorial first before summoning his armor, the last sound he made a burst of fire as his glider took him to the sky.
The tea was still hot, but it had lost most of its flavor.
It would have been difficult for anyone else to find Ventus in such a large castle - however Aqua knew him well. If he wasn't playing around in the training grounds, hiding in the highest loft of the library, or pigging out in the kitchen, then he was in his room.
How right she was, hearing voices coming from behind his door.
She knocked. "Ven?"
"Just a sec."
He rummaged, and she heard the snap of a bedsheet. Timing herself to the movement of the fabric, she walked in, just in time for him to double check that his mirror was completely covered.
"Thanks," she said, wishing her boys didn't have to be so careful around her.
Chirithy stood on his table next to a carefully placed stack of books so worn out that the leather started to peel. It wiggled its ears and groomed its paws, and it was endearing enough that it almost looked like a house cat.
For as much as Ventus was the eternal child in their trio, he was way more tidy than Terra. Souvenirs from the Master's adventures littered his walls and bookshelves, all neatly arranged so that they each shined without being shadowed by another. Aqua wondered if Ventus remembered each one's story - she certainly didn't.
"You talked to Terra?" Ventus asked, cautiously in fact, like he expected a fight out of it.
"I did," Aqua replied, her tone suspicious. "Everything is fine."
This confused him a little. "Okay. So what now?"
"That's what I came to ask you."
He made himself comfortable on his own seat, and if she didn't have to burden him with huge existential questions about the direction of his future, he would have probably expected this day to be spent with another fun run in the woods, like any teenage boy would want to do. He still liked his poop and fart jokes (and Terra still laughed at them).
But Ventus was also the most determined, and she and Terra often made the mistake of underestimating him. He perked up with all the confidence of someone much older.
"Well, there's a lot of questions I want answered."
Immediately she leaned forward, her shoulders straight and ready for the responsibility. "Shoot."
He chuckled nervously, his hand deliberately massaging his neck. "Um… I don't think you'll be able to help me with any of them."
"Why not?"
"Well, unless Realm of Darkness gave you a history lesson about my past..." Ah. Of course. "It sucks not having anybody to talk to about it," he said, and Chirithy stopped its grooming. "No one alive, I mean. Xehanort must have known something, though. It didn't hit me until after he died, but now I don't have anyone to ask."
"... You want to leave, too?"
"I don't know," he said too quickly. "Maybe. One of these days, yeah. But there's also..." He lost the words, and placed a hand at the top of the book stack. "I was supposed to read these and write the Master an essay. He postponed the deadline so I could watch your Mark of Mastery."
Then he turned to her. "I kind of remember what it was supposed to be about, and I want to do the right thing and finish it first. Will you read it when I'm done?"
"Y-yeah, sure, if you think it would help."
"...Why are you so surprised? Aren't you my Master now?"
It left her with a breathless, dry laugh. "Am I?"
He shrugged, like it was the most obvious decision he could have made. "I can't think of anyone better."
"Ven," she said, her hand running through his hair. There wasn't a good enough thank you for such a compliment. Not to her anyway, all she had was a meek nod.
Then the responsibility, the honor, of being his Master dawned on her - she would have to develop an academic plan for him.
But what of? In the silence that followed, she thought of her Master and his strict lessons, half their time spent in archaic books and the rest in sparring. Philosophy was processed, digested, and repeated instead of debated. Sometimes they had formal lessons in behavioral manners, politics - even history if they were lucky.
Much of it wasn't really relevant when all she had was her education in the darkest nights.
"If you really want to write the essay," she finally said, "we'll start with that."
She took the one at the very top, the most worn with a thick cover threaded by ancient hand-made methods from before book printing was a thing.
"Affairs of the Heart by the Master of Masters," she read aloud. "Ugh, I remember when Terra and I had to read this one."
"Isn't it awful?"
"The worst."
Ventus shook his head with disgust. "I wonder if the entire thing is a lame excuse for a joke."
She snorted. "What do you mean?"
"Thou shalt neither succumb at temptation and ne'er be fray y'est thine heart be ill-fitted with worrys," he imitated with a deep, exaggerated voice, using his hand as a puppet.
"I don't think y'est is a word, Ven."
"Whatever."
"The teachings have failed you?" Chirithy said, surprising her - she completely forgot it had been witness. It's so much like a cat sometimes: watching, ignoring, maybe even judging.
"You could say that," Ventus said with a nervous smirk, desperately and silently pleading at Aqua for permission to say more. "I mean, I don't want to say that my Master was a bad teacher. Without him, I wouldn't have been able to protect myself at all. He practically raised me and I owe him a lot-"
"Then what is troubling you?" Chirithy asked.
"I wasn't prepared to be fighting my own shadow." He leaned back, his hands supporting his head to give off the casual impression that nothing was really bothering him (it was). "He had a face and emotions, his own view of the world... Nothing I've ever read gave me the impression that was even possible."
Chirithy wiggled its ears, cocking its head. "Therefore your teachings about the light were incomplete?"
"Not at all." He straightened up like a lightning bolt. "I knew very little about the darkness and after everything that happened, I think a Keyblade Wielder should know more about it. I mean, I don't know where Xehanort got the idea to split me in two. Why me?"
"Your light has and will always be bright and powerful, Ventus," Chirithy chirped with suspicious confidence, before lowering its head. "It is ripe for the greedy, and I have seen the strongest faith break apart and cast the biggest, blackest shadows."
"Have you really?" Aqua intervened, now that they're on the subject. It kept its own past so close to its chest that catching it on the act of speaking was a golden opportunity. "You have any other unmatched and infinite wisdom you'd like to share, Cheers?"
"Like?"
Aqua rested her elbow on her knee, her chin in her hand. "Tell me about where you came from. Who taught you to speak?"
"I was made scientifically, in a flask," it said flatly. Maybe as far as sarcastically.
"Okay then," she nodded. "Well, I'd love to chat when you're ready to be serious."
"I have doppelgangers who all share my name," it continued. Ventus found this particularly funny.
"Yeah, sure," she brushed it off, turning her attention back to her new student. "Ven, I get it, I really do. I wasn't prepared for the Realm of Darkness, either."
"Really?" Now who was being cynical. "I don't think I would have stayed human if I was down there for that long… But you're a Master, so of course you survived."
It stung more than he realized, more than Terra would ever comprehend, more than Chirithy could measure, but Aqua kept herself calm.
She simply didn't know how to tell them that the savior they all saw in her was really an imposter.
"I'm just saying," she said, surprising herself with how steady she sounded, "that I don't want to follow the same path as our Master. If you think you'll find answers outside, then you deserve to know. I won't stop you."
Ventus' expression left Aqua wishing that one day soon, they could talk about the future without the baggage of the past. He was almost shocked, like this was his first taste of being treated as an adult, and he liked it.
Then there was a shift in his eyes, and she could tell that he didn't know how to walk the talk or where to begin. She didn't know either - should she really allow him to leave when he wanted or should they wait until he was Master before embarking on a treacherous journey first?
"I've got time to figure it out," he said. "I don't even know what I'm looking for yet. I'll stay here for now, at least until Terra's done with his training."
"Why is that?"
He said too much. "No reason."
"Ven, you know I don't like bullshit."
He flinched. "Promise not to get mad."
"I can't make-"
"Swear on this stupid book," he tapped Affairs of the Heart, "that you will not get upset."
She sighed, lazily putting her hand on the ancient tome. "I promise." Not a second too soon, she let go.
Ventus took his sweet time to respond. "We thought it might be a good idea to always have one Keyblade wielder in the castle at all times."
"That sounds sensible."
He was relieved - too relieved for her taste. "Really?"
"Huh." It wasn't for the castle's sake. It was for hers. "I don't remember needing bodyguards."
He squirmed. "You promised."
Her lips pursed to the point of soreness and she desperately wanted to assure him that yes, she wanted to smack him on the side of the head with that book.
But she had to admit watching his reaction was pretty funny. "Focus on your essay. I'll ask for it in about three days."
"I- I can't read all of that in-"
"Finish it."
She left him there, gently shutting the door behind her and overhearing him tell Chirithy that maybe she might be scarier than Eraqus. Aqua didn't actually commit to such a tight deadline, but she'd wait a little longer before informing him.
It seemed the moment Terra made his decision was proof that they all had to own up to their duties, and that their vacation of peace and reconciling was over.
Aqua walked down a hallway far enough to be sure she wouldn't be heard before whipping out her Gummiphone, scrolling through contacts. She understood the basic concept of how to use it, but it was still foreign enough that it wasn't second nature just yet. What a strange new life she woke back up to.
She found it, easily enough: Ienzo, Radiant Garden. She made the call, and a video screen lit up, his entire face on display.
"Master Aqua," he greeted. He was always so polite. "I've been expecting your call since we last spoke."
She hated the words that were going to come out, but it was time to take that first leap of faith into the abyss. "I'm ready to find my Keyblade."
"Yes," he confirmed. "I've already conducted a survey among the team and prior Organization members. I apologize again that I have no memory of it, I was so young.
"But anyway…" He cheered himself up. "You'll be happy to hear that yes, when Xehanort was found, there was a blue Keyblade and a set of armor by his side. Though I'm sorry to say that he experimented with it."
She told herself that starting was going to be the worst part, and it would get easier after she swallowed the bile building in her throat. "Can you elaborate?"
"Not on any human, mind you." His hand waved in dismissal at the camera. "He merely wanted it to cooperate. It wouldn't respond to him, it was as good as dead."
"Good." Her Keyblade, her own heart and soul bound to a weapon, made her proud.
"However, all the failures of making it spark discouraged him, so he locked it away."
"What does that mean?"
His eyes were far away now, gesturing to someone off-camera to leave him be for a minute. "He was very protective of it and didn't want to give anyone else a try."
Protective would be the last word she'd ever use to describe Xehanort, but this wasn't really just him, was it? This was also a white-haired Terra, someone who apparently didn't understand his own past, attached to a relic that reminded him of feeling.
It made her think of how doting Terra was to make her smile, and how enchanted he became when he succeeded.
And then she imagined a white-haired freak begging some inanimate object to give him the validation of a greeting.
She didn't know how to feel about that.
"Okay, where is it now?"
"No one knows," he said somberly. "I'm afraid I don't have a better answer for you…
"What we do have is a shelf of journals, including personal diaries and notes about his scientific experiments," he continued. "Perhaps the answer might lie inside?"
"No," she said and instantly regretted letting it out of her mouth. No, no, no, no. She didn't want to know anything about any of that: creating Heartless, locking people up, flirting and deceiving, backstabbing people who thought they were his comrades, all with Terra's face and hands.
This was exactly why she didn't want Terra to help her with this either. It was best to leave Xehanort buried and not do anything to revive him - especially giving his thoughts any respect of existence. Why did the old man go and make things this complicated?
Taking a leap of faith was supposed to be like dipping into cold water - unpleasant and maybe painful at first but the temperature should level after a while.
This was more akin to jumping into acid now.
Right when proper words had failed her the most.
"I completely understand if you don't-"
"You misunderstand me," she corrected, and she regretted that too.
Terra kept his promise.
He came home right before the sun set behind the western mountains, when there was still enough light to filter through the stained glass. It barely took fifteen minutes after he arrived before it finally got dark - but not fifteen minutes too late, exactly as she needed him to.
Aqua gave in and asked Ienzo to ship Xehanort's journals. Now it was anticipating having to read them, and wondering what kind of horrid images she would have to expose herself to, and why why why.
She thought she had virtuoso though, and powered through dinner in spite of the storm brewing inside of her - which of course her boys noticed.
Ventus thought she was angry with him. Terra thought she was mad at him.
It wasn't until after dinner, when Terra approached her, that Aqua realized the minutes had betrayed her sense of time - at least the library was a pleasant place to spend them.
Open books littered the shelves and she already forgot where they belonged. Right now, she was too busy flipping pages from the one in her arms.
Terra put down a satchel with its flap pulled back. It was filled with raw, cloudy crystals, like he had just picked them out from some mines.
"Crystal magic?" she asked.
"Merlin wanted to start with something simple." He had his arms crossed, bracing for whatever she had to say that would upset him. She didn't mean to make him feel this way, especially to the point that he dug for conversations to lighten the mood.
"I wouldn't consider crystal activation as simple." It was bizarre that they would start with this - even she had a hard time bending hard minerals to her will, and she was better at this stuff.
"Don't let him hear you say that."
Awkward silence settled in. She was supposed to chuckle at that.
So Terra, nervously rolling his lips, scanned through the titles of the books around her, closing them and making a stack.
"You're reading about spirit guides," he said, not as a question but as an observation. "Interesting. Is this about Cheers?"
"He's a punk and won't answer my questions." She scoffed at the realization that she was probably fooling herself. "There isn't a single mention of a Chirithy in any of these books."
"I see." He sneaked glances at her when he thought she wouldn't notice. "Is that what's bothering you?"
"No," she said weakly. She supposed she couldn't avoid it anymore. "If I want to find Stormfall, I'll have to read through Xehanort's personal diaries."
"Oh, Aqua." The horror in his voice confirmed her worst fears. "I'm so sorry."
"There's no guarantee that I'll find what I'm looking for, either. I could be exposing myself to nonsense for no good reason."
He leaned forward, his fingers bracing her shoulder and she remembered that he was warm. "What can I do to help?"
"Oh-" She shook her head and it made him feel worse. Terra always hated to be left out, and this was especially touchy considering the guilt leaking out of his eyes. "Terra, I don't think it's a good idea for you to..."
"Read them." He sighed. There was a question at the tip of his tongue, something he attempted multiple times to ask but zipped himself up. "... Do you not feel safe around me anymore?"
"What?"
"I'm asking since you won't…" He barely looked at her, whatever he was thinking of embarrassed him. She bet it was because she wouldn't sleep in his room anymore.
"Of course I do, that's not it at all..."
If only she had the gift to inspire with her words, to talk about these things without hurting his feelings. Both of them lived with shackles on their ankles from their past transgressions, heavy enough to sink them because it mattered that much that they'd drown if they didn't tread lightly.
It was an awful way to exist. "I'm not getting better," she said.
"I think it's my fault because of the situation with the stupid chandelier."
That was only partially true. How could she let him know that being around him made her breathe easier? "It's not. There's just some things I think is best to fight alone, you know?"
He bitterly scoffed. "I wish you would tell me how I can help."
"Look at me." She wondered if sometimes it hurt him to do so. Her fingers gently grazed his, welcoming an embrace so he could be comforted by the things she was terrible at saying. "I will have to read some very upsetting things, and there will be days when I won't be okay. I'll need you to listen when that happens. I'll need you to be a shoulder for me."
It sounded weird to ask him to do that. It used to be that they would promise things like to tell the other when they're wrong, to always split the food in equal thirds, to pass the exam together. She stood on her own and he did just fine, too - like they were equals. Asking for his strength didn't used to be status quo but she could see how desperately he wanted to be there for her and how much brighter he was when she let him in.
He squeezed her hand tighter. "I'll do my best."
In the meantime, she would shoulder herself that night, to try again and sleep on her own before dumping loads on her best friend with anything else that would add weight to his burdens.
Soon enough, even though she made (triple) sure that her barriers were solid and tall, someone turned off the lights in her room as soon as she got into bed.
Someone sat at her vanity table, shadows cloaking enough to hide the identity but leaving a silhouette.
Someone breathed.
Someone shifted comfortably in her chair, watching her.
Close your eyes, said a female voice.
Aqua wouldn't, she'd die if she did.
The figure stirred when she refused, and crept closer to the bed, soft footsteps thudding on her carpet.
Once again, Aqua was a hostage in her body.
Her own face corrupted with golden eyes sauntered into the moonlight, looking down with disdain and curiosity.
Close them, her double said with the demand for appeasement, as if darkness required a toll to let her move.
Her anti-self firmly pressed a scaly, frigid finger to her lips to shush her whimpering, before clasping a claw stained with a bitter red over her eyelids.
Ironically, her favorite pastime was only something she could do in the dark.
Aqua had spent years forgetting that the darkness was capable of doing anything beautiful, its one and only good deed being its necessary presence when it let the stars out.
With her boys, it was easier to go outside and rely on their cues on whether danger lurked near. It never did in the Land of Departure; she knew this and yet somehow she still found ways not to believe it.
Their night time picnics took place in the safety of huge lanterns that lit the way through the training grounds, the dark mountains far enough away to look like an unassuming painting. Of course, it would be easier to see the stars in the forests, where artificial light had no power, but Aqua needed constant reassurance that nothing in the shadows would swallow her back to hell.
That was always the point - stay in the light and she could prepare herself for what was coming. Aqua prayed that one day she could be ordinary again, just to be able to camp in the wild like she used to.
Tonight, Ven's laugh made it seem like night never existed in the first place.
With a stick, a string, and a few molted feathers, he madeshift a cat toy for Chirithy - though it was entirely unamused and it squinted enough that it might have been annoyed. Terra tossed snarky comments that Ventus should find someone his own size to pick on (Terra was out of the question, much too big and much too strong).
While it was pleasant to enjoy a picnic with her boys like the old days, something about it didn't feel so normal - Chirithy would always be a living reminder that the Master was dead, and maybe that was a blessing: she could spare herself the grief of expecting him to join them.
She grabbed a wrapped rice ball from the basket - each was filled with spiced chicken, to Terra's delight - and bit into it.
"I've been procrastinating," she said to Terra who sat next to her on the checkered blanket, low enough that Ventus wouldn't hear.
He nodded, a half-eaten treat in one hand that he immediately ignored. "Have you read anything?"
It had been several days that she left the journals in a neglected pile in the Master's office.
"Yeah." All she did so far was peek into one, figuratively tossing a coin between the chance that it would be written with Terra's handwriting or someone else's...
It turned out to be someone else's, the word 'heart' written on the page she pulled open. She shut it immediately because she couldn't handle the nausea.
Terra didn't ask for more information, forgetting he had food in his hand as his eyes glazed over and left the picnic he was supposed to be a part of.
"Did I say something wrong?" she asked.
"No." He shifted, leaning away like his first instinct was to avoid her and she hated how guilty he seemed all the time.
Then, after a time, he forced a smile - he really was good at giving himself silent pep talks to bravely face whatever he was worried about. "I saw Nami today."
For having their lives ruined for years, it was honestly good that he had such a trusted friend in Naminé. "How is she?"
"She's good." It was strange that he was nervous to speak about her, sitting on his legs in an awkward angle that it couldn't be comfortable.
"Terra."
"Yeah?"
"What is it?"
By now, Ventus was quiet, joining them on the blanket in the hopes of getting himself something delicious, but whatever appetite he had abandoned him in the presence of such tension. Chirithy crawled onto his lap, and to anyone else they looked like a boy keeping his stuffed animal close for comfort.
Actually, on second thought, he too was bracing himself for what was coming. Ventus knew something.
"Okay," she commanded, "let's have it."
Rice fell in tiny clunks on the picnic blanket, like specks of snow. Terra didn't notice. "I asked her to…" He cleared his throat. "To rechain some of the memories that are disconnected from me."
Her heart stopped. "Excuse me?"
"Riku was with me, I didn't do it alone." He held his free hand up in surrender.
"I didn't-" She snapped, trapping her breath because she needed something to punish. "I didn't ask for this."
"I know." He looked past her, the courage to address her directly fleeting. "I only wanted to help."
"And what do you think it's going to do to you?" She dropped her rice ball and it splattered. "Did you think it was a good idea?"
"Aqua," Ventus objected, his brow furrowed like he was the one offended. "This is Terra we're talking about. He wouldn't do anything to hurt you."
"Oh, but hurting himself is fine."
"You're not getting any better." Ventus leaned over, his hand drawing his points in the air, his tone slicing as sharp as mountain gusts. "And we both knew that you shouldn't be without a Keyblade. He said he was trying to help you out, or are you deaf?"
His words cut deeply enough to make her wince, and she wondered if it was a whiplash she started herself.
Was she doing it again, seeing Terra in such an awful way that she had to assume the worst? Was she going to have to watch him turn his back on her like he did before?
One of the things she regretted the most was refusing to hear what Terra had to say for himself that day.
"I didn't mean it that way-"
"She's right, Ven," Terra said, waving his arm. "I should have said something to her before I did anything."
If her words were going to continue to fail her, then she had nothing left except to crawl toward Terra, and lock him in her arms so tightly that it said what she needed to say better than she was capable of. All she had left was to hope that he heard her correctly.
He heard her right, taking her waist with both his arms, protecting her from herself. "I'm sorry. You won't lose me again."
Whatever it was that kept her company late at night - her mind, really - was the worst friend she ever had.
There she was on her bed, again, preparing for her routine: start with casting Reflect, pace back and forth, and then stare at the ceiling until she stopped remembering anything else before the sun greeted her.
It was bad enough that her boys noticed her deterioration, and they hadn't even seen what she was doing by herself when she closed the door.
When awake, she wanted to sleep so badly but when asleep, she begged to be wake up. A proper Keyblade Master should have a little more self-control.
However, Aqua didn't consider herself enough of a proper Master to really know what she was doing. Her hands kept finding her Gummiphone, fiddling with her contact list, and then dropping it back on her bed.
She was sick of nights like these. She texted Terra: Are you awake?
Almost immediately: kitchen. lights are on.
Indeed there was one path of lit hallways taking her straight to the kitchen, the sky through the upper windows blackened from the clouds.
He sat on a stool at the middle counter, head buried in his hands with the teapot steaming by his side and the Master's mug filled to the brim. His thumb massaged his temple, and he didn't give much of a response when she entered and found her place next to him.
"This is my second cup," he sighed as he passed it toward her. Considering how huge it was, it was more like his fourth. "It'll help you better, I think."
It was chamomile tea even though he hated the taste of it. As she sunk a huge gulp, she tasted all the experimentation he did to make it pleasant: lavender, almond milk, and honey. He even added vanilla extract to make it sweeter, which meant his insomnia was quite serious this time.
"Delicious as always." Warmth filled her throat and solaced her chest down to her core, as though it was telling her that sleep wasn't a fantasy.
Terra did not reply. With elbows pressed onto the marble and his mouth leaning on his hands, he looked elsewhere - at the wall across from them. His pupils shivered as hard as his eyelids, his thoughts fighting a difficult battle all by himself.
Aqua traced her fingers on his arm. "Terra, where are you?"
Whatever he was thinking imprisoned his full attention, but it let him mumble, "I have memories that aren't mine."
A sick feeling of I told you so bubbled in her stomach, mixed with imagining the horrid images he was remembering, and fear of the sorrow that was threatening to barge in. He didn't deserve to experience this, and yet this was something Terra would have always chosen to do: spare her from the same.
"Please stay with me," she said, both hands wrapped around his forearm now, gently coaxing him back to reality where it was safer.
He blinked as though a strong light beamed into his eyes, and several more times to stop the tears. Sighing, settling into the stool, letting his shoulders relax, he turned to her, taking her fingers in his, and he looked at her like he actually saw her.
"I'm here."
Two words from him was enough. She handed the mug back and helped herself to leaning against his bicep, which was more comfortable than her pillow.
Terra took a huge swallow, his thumb gliding across her knuckles - ever since he grew into himself and passed through adulthood, his hands had become humongous. She used to amuse herself with thoughts that he needed a hand just as big to hold.
Of course, hers were dainty in comparison even though they carried weight far heavier than most.
Yet despite how much he dwarfed her, they still fit perfectly together.
He swallowed again, before croaking, "They're still in the Master's office, right?"
She nodded into his arm.
He steadied, leaning away to address her directly. "Let's take care of them."
Indeed, those journals were still in their same positions on the Master's large mahogany desk, almost perfectly stacked out of neglect.
Terra opened one of the books on the top, and only glanced through it before snapping it back closed.
Whether what little he read disturbed him or not, she couldn't tell.
"Do you still need them?" he asked.
That was probably the most cynical question he had ever asked her. "No."
"Good."
On the opposite end of the Master's office was the fireplace, cleaned of soot. Terra didn't need to mention it when they both thought of the same thing.
If a fire was built out of curses, would it still be considered a hearth?
It cackled and spit when the hard leather hit, and it would take a couple of burns to melt all of the clumps but the point of this ritual was to throw their shackles overboard and watch them combust. Every journal aflamed burned more knots from her shoulders.
She had a fleeting desire to touch the fire herself, and see if it could burn away the nightmares, too.
"I feel so much better," he said, on his knees. "You?"
For her, the warmth lasted for only a few moments. "I'd still have to go back to my room, and I don't…" She scoffed. "I don't even know what to say about that."
"You should sleep here."
In between the fireplace and the rest of the office was a rug on the floor and a long, supple couch surrounded by coffee tables and footrests.
She hummed. "That would place me far away from you guys."
"I could stay with you," he offered and realized it might have been an embarrassing thing to say.
"Terra-"
"You know what, Aqua? I have to be honest. I really want to be with you for the night." He rolled his lips and held his breath for her response, but didn't let her say anything more. "Maybe I shouldn't even ask but I don't understand the point of not saying anything - I just needed to get that off my chest."
"Terra," she said more sternly (but with a smirk) to warn him against interrupting her. "I want you to stay with me, but…"
Her eyes wandered the office. The fire shone a bright light against the furniture but as much as it was healing, it left heavy, glaring shadows. She had to walk to the entrance and turn the rest of the lights on. "I don't want you to be bothered by the lights."
"I won't be."
"And there's just stuff I have to do now before I can even relax."
"Then do them." He shrugged, a warm smile welcoming her home. "Do what you have to do, I don't care."
She shook her head. "I don't like needing anything. I needed and needed and needed so much for so long and nothing happened, and now it feels like I'm losing a game I don't want to play."
"But if you're taking care of yourself," he came closer to her, his arms crossed, "isn't that more like winning?"
She was going to say that he didn't understand what she was going through, when the straightening of his mouth stopped her. Something in his mind hung on to him, and it hurt him, and he was about to free himself and let it go.
"What if I told you," he said, "that I needed you? Is that okay?"
"Of course."
Nerves trickled up his arms. "It's harder to sleep without you."
She fiddled with her fingers. "I feel the same way."
He cleared his throat, putting on a brave face to stop himself from chuckling. "Then please spare me from another awful night."
Those were words that she could have said but pride was a sensitive, whiny thing.
She shut the door in front of her, and checked to make sure it was locked twice. With that secured, she murmured her Reflect spell to cover the entire doorway.
"Ah," he tisked. "Can I play your game, too?"
Aqua stammered a laugh. "The windows, please."
"Say no more."
He traveled opposite from the door, and took extra care that his Reflect spell stretched beyond the windowsill. In the meantime, she worked on putting a barrier over the fireplace, before heading towards the biggest piece of furniture in the room.
"The wardrobe, too?" he asked.
Aqua wasn't the type to feel particularly shy, but in this moment, she second-guessed herself.
"Sorry," he said, briskly opening it to fetch a black rag and then giving her the cue to help herself.
"What is that for?"
He wrapped it around his eyes, tying a knot that scrunched his hair. It was thick enough to block the light pounding from all around him, and he squeezed her hand with his to remind her that he chose to stay with her. "You're doing me a favor, so it's the least I can do. Now we're even."
His fingers played with hers, and if they had feelings, then they were smiling.
"Am I going to have to keep you from knocking into things?"
"Maybe," he drawled like a child. "I'm used to this, actually."
"What do you mean?"
"I spent quite a long time looking at nothing but darkness," he softly said, his voice getting distant. "I don't really need to see. I don't really need to touch you either to... feel your presence near me. I can tell where the furniture is if I'm close enough. It's really familiar."
A cold nausea swept over her.
If this was how it was for him all this time… Was it the same that fateful night in the Realm of Darkness when the monster attacked her?
What was it called again… the Guardian? Terra just couldn't see that it was her he was ruining, or was it something else…?
"Aqua?"
True, he didn't need to see her to understand that something was bothering her. His head leaned over to listen to for a cue, and when he didn't get any he lifted the rag to find her with one eye.
She stood still long enough that her hand went limp in his.
"I hate this," she said.
He didn't understand what she meant, and as though she had transferred pain into him, he started to slip his fingers away. She held them tighter as reassurance.
"Is it just me," she breathed, "or was it easier for us to be ourselves before the Mark of Mastery? Tell me I'm not misremembering how we used to be, I just hate the way it's been so hard to talk about anything."
"Y-yeah. I know what you mean."
"I want us to go back. I want to tell you things I wouldn't say to anyone else. I don't want us to have to hide anything."
He nodded sadly. "I want the same."
"Then let's start over."
"Aqua," he chuckled. "I have too many special memories to start anew, but…" He tugged at her, leading her to the couch where he leaned against the backrest and brought his ankles to one of the embroidered footrests, accommodating his body until he found peace.
All of the paper succumbed to the flames and left a void where something could replace it and keep the hearth going, but that was the point. They were not made of wood; they were stronger than that, and they should be able to withstand what hellfire rained on them.
She followed, tucking his hand against her chest as she settled on the couch and laid her head on his lap, which prompted him to lift one thigh higher to support her neck. He began tracing circles in her hair and rubbing his thumb on her forehead.
In her position, she watched him pull the rag back down to cover his eyes.
"Then let's start with," she whispered, "what you saw when you met with Naminé. Where is Stormfall?"
He sighed, his body slackening despite the nature of the question. He let go of her hand to bring it around her waist and held her closer, as though she was too close to the edge.
"There was a long, white hallway with many doors…"