Chapter 155: A Bit of Kindness

Riku staggered back, stunned, as if Xemnas's words had been a physical thing. They'd been like a hammer to his heart, cracking down the defenses he'd put up and letting the self-doubt flood him again.

Pitiful.

He thinks you're pitiful.

Pathetic.

Failure.

The words wouldn't stop. It was getting hard to breathe.

Useless.

That's what you are.

No good for anything.

Can't help anyone.

Can't do anything right.

You're attempts are pitiful.

You're pitiful.

You're—

"Riku!"

Vexen's voice pierced through it all. He grasped Riku by the shoulders, tightly, steadying him.

Riku squeezed his eyes shut. Bit his lip. Clenched his fists—which was odd, because what happened to his blade? He wasn't holding it anymore. He must've dropped it. This was not where he wanted to be, though. He did not want to have Vexen steadying him.

I'd almost rather let the voices get to me.

"It wasn't directed at you," Vexen said, firmly. "Xemnas was referring to all of us, because our attempt at retaliation was pitiful. Which it really was. No offense, Alpha."

Alpha said something in response. Riku didn't hear him. He was trying to block everything out. If only he could block Vexen out…

"You are not pitiful, Riku. You never have been. And you've never been a failure, either."

You're one to say that!

Didn't you always—

Anger bubbled up inside of him. Riku shoved Vexen away, taking three, four, five steps back. "Stop it!" he screamed. He didn't know what else to do. He didn't understand Vexen. Vexen had never acted like this before and it was driving him nuts. "Stop- stop lying to me!"

Because he is lying.

I've always been a failure to him!

"I'm not lying," Vexen said. He sounded angry, too.

"Oh, you're not, are you?" Riku clutched his head with one hand, trying to find something to steady himself. "But you always said that I was a failure!"

"Riku, I didn't-"

"You didn't?" Riku laughed, bitterly, but his voice broke, slightly, tears threatening to come. He felt something clenching in his stomach, something tearing at his heart. He was hurt. Betrayed. "Didn't what? Didn't mean it?" His voice cracked, slightly.

"Riku-"

"So you didn't mean it, then, when you told Larxene that you didn't care what she did to me because I was just a failure and meant nothing to you?" Riku asked, demanded, screaming. "You didn't mean it, when you said that I was worthless, because I couldn't do anything you wanted me to? Because I couldn't do anything right?"

"Riku, please, I never-"

Riku shook his head. "No." He could feel himself trembling. "No, just-" He swallowed, trying to keep ahold of himself. "Just leave me alone."

And he ran, getting away from there as fast as he could. He didn't want to hear what Vexen had to say. It was probably all lies, anyway.

xxx

Riku clutched his knees, tightly. He was sitting in his corner. Because that was where he always ran to when he was confused and hurt.

I don't understand.

Why am I so upset about how Vexen treated me?

It's never bothered me before.

It's just—

He gripped his knees tighter.

I don't understand him. Why is he acting like he cares about me? He never has before! And that's what's driving me nuts. Because I don't understand what he's trying to do and maybe it scares me. Maybe I don't like it.

He hung his head, touching his forehead to his knees, trying not to tremble.

I'm so sick of all this.

He just wanted to be anywhere else. He was so tired of this stupid Rebellion, so tired of Vexen, so tired of failing, so tired of having to deal with a panic attack every other day. Maybe he should go back to the Islands—it's not like there was any point staying here when the Rebellion was basically over. The Organization had the Program, they had Roxas, and the Rebellion was nothing more than a bunch of fugitives.

"Hey."

He looked up. Namine was standing not far from him.

"I was wondering where you were," she said.

He swallowed.

"How'd you find me?"

"Well… no one said they'd seen you since you ran off," she explained. "So I figured you came here."

"Mm."

She made her way over and sat down next to him.

"You and Vexen get in a fight?" she asked, quietly.

He turned away from her. He didn't want to talk about this. He most certainly didn't want to talk about this. Stupid Vexen. Stupid Namine finding out about things. How did she do that, anyway?

"He doesn't make sense," Riku said.

"He doesn't?"

Riku groaned, slightly. He didn't want to talk. Why was he talking? What was it about Namine that made him do this? He bit his lip to keep his mouth shut this time. He wasn't going to talk about it. Not now. Probably not later—though a part of him thought that maybe talking about it later with Namine wasn't a bad idea.

There was silence for a moment.

Namine shifted slightly.

"How'd things go, huh?" she asked, finally, changing the subject.

"Terrible," Riku replied. "We failed. The Organization has the full Program, and they have Roxas."

"And?"

"That's bad."

"Why?"

Riku looked over at her, confused. How could she not understand?

"Because the Organization has the full Program. Because we were trying to keep that away from them in the first place. Because… they have Roxas. That's bad." He was beginning to feel frustrated. "It's bad because I-" he paused, choked down the word that was trying to leave his tongue, and continued: "I'm worried about Roxas."

Namine stared at him for a long moment.

"You are?"

Riku swallowed.

"Yes," he said. Words were hard. Every time he opened his mouth he wanted to say "I failed" just so he could hear Namine tell him that that wasn't true. But he couldn't work up the courage to ask for her comfort so he just said: "It's just… it makes me uneasy. Seeing Roxas."

Talking about Roxas distanced him from his own pain.

"There was something… off, about him. He looked like Roxas. Sounded like Roxas. But it was like… he lacked everything that made him Roxas." Riku shrugged. "Maybe I'm exaggerating. I know he was created all of five minutes before he came out, and maybe that's all it was, but there was still something off about him."

Namine just shook her head. "I wouldn't know."

"I know. I just-" Riku swallowed again. "I'm afraid of what the Organization might do to him. I'm afraid they'll turn him into their puppet. Like-" The words were thick on his tongue. It was hard to force them out. "Like they did with me. I wouldn't want anyone else to go through that. But- But I can't do anything about it. I can't just steal him from the Organization. I can't-" He ground his palms into his eyes, trying to hold back his frustration, trying to hold back his tears.

I can't do that because it's ridiculous.

I can't do that because I can't even fight Axel.

I can't do that because I'm a failure.

Namine let out a long breath. "I think you need some cheering up," she said, after a moment. She stood up, then grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. "C'mon. I have something I want to show you."

"What is it?" Riku asked, grateful for the distraction.

"You'll see," Namine told him, as she led him off. There was a smile in her voice, and the smile crept its way into Riku's face, too.

He was mildly surprised when she led him to his room. She paused outside of the door, let go of his hand, and reached for the doorknob, before pausing. She turned to him, pulling her hands away from the door and clenching them together, almost nervously.

"You first."

Riku looked her over, trying to peg why she was so nervous. He couldn't really tell, though, so he went ahead and opened his door.

At first, it seemed like nothing was different. He glanced around his room, once, trying to figure out what Namine wanted to show him. Then something caught his eye, and he slowly looked up. His eyes widened in shock, and his jaw probably dropped, too.

His ceiling had been painted to look like the sky.

Namine had painted his ceiling to look like the sky.

And it looked pretty amazing.

"Whoa…"

"You like it?"

"Like it? Namine, I- wow." He turned to her. "It looks… wow."

She beamed.

"That's good. I was a bit worried; I was afraid it wasn't enough, just being the ceiling. I'd planned to paint your walls, too, but I couldn't think of what to paint them and I didn't have enough time and…" She trailed off, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, clearly anxious.

"It's fine," he said. He looked back up at the sky—the ceiling, he had to correct himself, chuckling slightly. He couldn't deny the fact that some of the illusion of it actually being the sky was lost due to the walls remaining white, but, otherwise… "It looks beautiful."

"You really think so?"

Riku nodded, turning to look at her again. "Why'd you…?" he began, but the question ended there, leaving the rest of it to float around unasked.

Namine shifted her weight slightly. "Well, you've had a kind of crappy week," she said. "I wanted to do something special for you. To cheer you up. I was gonna draw something, but everything I could think of drawing didn't seem special enough. Drawing didn't seem special enough; I do that all the time! I mean, I know you would've liked whatever I drew you, whatever I did for you, but I wanted to do something really special." She gestured up at the ceiling. "I decided I'd do this, because, well… I thought maybe you were getting tired of seeing the stupid whiteness of these walls every day."

He smiled. It really was special, and a nice gesture. In fact, he couldn't entirely wrap his mind around it. No one was usually so nice to him.

"You didn't have to do this for me," he said.

"I never said I had to," Namine replied, as if she'd been expecting that. "I said I wanted to. There's a difference, Riku."

He wasn't sure if he wanted to grin or if he wanted to cry. The idea of Namine being so kind to him—wanting to do something special for him—was really hard for him to grasp. He was honestly having a hard time believing it, actually.

No one was ever kind to him. Or if they were, it was usually only out of convenience. No one went out of their way to do something special for him.

And yet here was Namine. Who'd taken up most of her day just to paint his ceiling to look like the sky. For no other reason than to cheer him up.

And there's also Amaryllis, he thought. Standing up for me when he didn't have to.

And Joseph. But he almost doesn't count. He's nice to everyone.

And I can't forget Aerith. Who's kind enough to let me stay at her house and heal my wounds and—

And Namine painted my ceiling to look like the sky. Because she wanted to cheer me up.

Riku sat down on the ground, not quite having the strength to stand up anymore. He covered his face with his hands, trying to hide the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. He didn't understand why he was crying. He wasn't sad. Wasn't upset. If anything, he was happy.

Because even in the midst of the worst he could put himself through, even in the midst of all the self-doubt he was drowning in, even in the midst of all the "everyone thinks you're a failure", there was kindness.

And Namine had painted his ceiling to look like the sky.

"Riku? Something wrong?" Namine quickly sat down next to him.

He shook his head. Nothing was wrong. But words could not explain what he was feeling right now, and even if they could, he didn't quite want to tell Namine what was going through his head.

"Is it the picture?" she asked.

He shook his head again. "No," he said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "That's- there's… nothing wrong with it. It's beautiful." He wished he could stop crying. Why was he even crying, anyway?

"Okay." Namine didn't sound very sure. "Are you hurt, then? Are you-"

He just shook his head.

"Riku, I don't understand, why are you-"

He reached out and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. He held her there, held her tight, buried his face in her hair. "Thank you," he whispered. No other words could come. "You really didn't have to."

"I- I know," Namine said, again. "Like I said, I wanted to. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," he told her. Maybe it was a lie. He couldn't tell. He honestly had no idea whether or not he was okay. For right now… he was perfectly content to sit under the sky Namine painted for him, and hold her close.

She shifted so she could wrap her arms around him, too, and she hugged him tight. She held onto him, and he held onto her, silently grateful for the comfort.

Am I a failure? he wanted to ask—still wanted to ask. He wanted to hear her tell him otherwise. Because he really needed to hear that, he thought. But he couldn't make himself open his mouth. Couldn't work up the courage to ask it. Not because he was scared she might tell him otherwise. Just because he was scared. Maybe scared to let her know that he thought that of himself, even though she probably already knew.

Besides, it was all okay. For now, it was all okay. And so long as Namine was here to keep offering him her kindness, it would all be okay.