A/N: BBS spoilers; read at your own risk.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, Squeenix and Disney do.
CH 6: Convulsions
Sora stood in front of the mirror, glaring back at the reflection with barely restrained anger.
Palm outstretched toward the glass without fear; no real imperfections, no shadows leering back with hollow expressions, nothing of the nightmares that trailed him every moment he wasn't awake. In all respects, he was an ordinary resident of Destiny Islands, save for one thing, and one thing alone.
His right hand, from fingertip to elbow, was completely black.
The appendage spoke nothing of the disease that riddled human fingers, not ink or artificial markers on tanned skin, but of rot and decay; stinging burns that smoldered darkness, unnaturally elongated digits that would never warm a soul, but merely choke the life out of it. It was the sign of a Heartless, crackling in the evening air. Laughable, really; but the boy who was Sora yet not Sora did not smile.
It was true, then. His form was coming back.
Why so down, Sora?
The brunette doesn't move, keeping his vision trained on the mirror. He takes his hand away, and sees that his reflection drastically changed. It's now a copy of him, if he had onyx hair and irises that only shone cruel gold. The replica mocks his expression, feigning compassion.
''Shut up.'' Sora tells the doppelganger, moving his right hand out of sight and out of mind.
Touchy, touchy. I just want to talk. What's wrong with your hand?
He grits his teeth, bristling at the comment. ''Do I have to answer that, or are you going to say something useful for once?''
The copy's form fades in and out of view through the glass as he paced in a circle. It depends on what you define as ''useful''.
Sora arches his eyebrows considerably, revealing that the cerulean hues that still lingered were cloudier. ''What's taking so long? The keyblade wielder should be wiped from existence by now.''
Complications, idiot.
''I'd love to be enlightened, actually.''
The mirror goes opaque and the brunette edges closer in surprise. Leaning up to the mirror and hears the answer, faintly murmured in his ear.
Namely, that stupid puppet, the voice yields quietly, and Sora realizes he's touching the glass. Too close.
Something wraps around his throat and raises him up until he's dangling in the air, shoes barely touching the floor. Windpipe constricted, lungs burning; spots start to bleach his vision in a dousing black shade. He struggles, arms futilely tugging at the blockage to air, but it only tightens, stretching farther. He's getting dizzy; colors begin blending into one another, and his head is about to burst –
Tell me, why did I get sent back here, back to your shriveling awareness? You were supposed to get rid of every interference.
''No, you don't – understand –, '' Sora chokes out; writhing in place, and the pause the shadow takes is long enough for the brunette to summon a keyblade and cut down the column of darkness encircling his throat.
A twinkle of light and the weapon disappears. He drops to his knees, massaging his throat with a painfully spiked wheeze. The mirror fades to clarity once more, briefly satisfied. ''It's been hard…getting Roxas to agree.''
You mean Ventus.
''His name is Roxas. Not …Ventus.''
Different clothes, different persona. It's still him, living that stupid half-life of his in denial.
The brunette crawls backward, wary of any more repercussions. ''How can you be so sure?''
Because once upon a time, I was a part of him.
And even the person pretending to be Sora could feel it in the sentence. That deep, abysmal hate people would feel when they loathed someone from the pit of their soul.
''No one has the power to do that to someone else. Maybe the memories will disappear, but the connection never will.'' Sora argues adamantly to her, because in his mind, something like that could never happen. People could lose their way and forget, but…they always remembered again. He didn't believe her for a second. It's was so strange, though, talking to the girl.
''Who are you, anyways?'' he asks her, out of the blue. ''How do you know so much about me?''
The girl shrugs, all sad smiles and sad eyes. ''My name is Xion. It's been a long time since anyone ever called me by it, though.''
Her mannerisms, the way she speaks. She reminds him of …
''Kairi forgot you too, before'', Xion murmurs softly. ''It's the same situation here. Haven't you ever wondered what happened after you went to find the King and Riku, why you woke up in those pods?''
''What, you know Mickey and Riku too?''
The girl huffs loudly. ''That isn't my point!'' She glances off to the side, rubbing at her arm as if she's about to ask something awkward. ''Do you even…remember who the King is?''
''Of course I do! He's my friend! We've went on tons of adventures together!'' Sora boasts, puffing his chest up.
''What's he look like, then?'' Her tone flips to mocking in an instant, intentionally pitched. Her eyes mist up in the corners, and it's almost like she's going to cry, remembering something in the past. ''Where did you meet him? How many times? Better yet, what kind of weapon does he wield, huh? Tell me that, Sora, and maybe I'll believe you.''
Sora opens his mouth to retort, but finds he can't say anything back. His mind's drawing up a blank, again and again and all he can see in his mind is that blissful word 'friend'. Mickey's his ally, but to what? What kinds of things did they do together? In fact, what did the King look like, again? Not being able to answer stabs at him.
So he redirects the flow. ''Did you do it to me, too?'' Suddenly, he's standing straight and there's vertigo and he's angry, but he doesn't know at whom. He doesn't raise his voice, though. The possibility dawns on him and even though it's a cruel thing to accuse, he does it anyway. ''Making me forget my friends, brainwashing me with your mind games?''
''No! How could you say such a ... I would never do that to you, Sora. What I did to Roxas...I didn't destroy him, you know. He's not dead.''
The raven-haired girl swallows. The next part is the hardest to say. ''I released his heart.''
''You're lying.'' He says, flatly, mind spinning. As far as dreams go, this one has got to be the most insane. He can't deny that lingering sentiment that Roxas was really in danger here; and he'd always help out a friend, even when nothing else made sense. He thinks of a girl with platinum hair and a white dress grabbing his friend's light instead, and it fills his head.
The girl takes her head in her hands. ''I know you won't understand anything I'm saying, but hear me out, Sora. I had to.''
Sora doesn't answer, but she takes it as a yes and clears her throat.
''It was to fix him. He'd been infected with darkness, and that spreading to his heart. To Ventus.'' She brings her head up. ''Do you know anyone with that name?''
The brunette rubs his shoulder, suddenly anxious. ''Nope, never heard of him. Who is he?''
''Of course not. In the state you're in now, you probably already forgotten the concept of a keyblade itself.'' She mutters, letting her shoulders slacken, and then pushes on before Sora can pose another question. ''I'm not sure, either. I've never even really met him personally. But for some reason, he started calling out to me after Roxas 'merged' with you again. Just a voice, really. But he needs your help, because you're the only one who can wake him up again.''
''I don't understand.''
She finished the ice cream bar, setting the stick down to the side. ''Normally, heart extraction can only be done with the keyblade, and an experienced master, but – well, Ven was lending me his power. It's a unique situation, seeing how we're in another…layer of your heart, so to speak. Roxas was in a severely weakened state, and the darkness worked to our advantage in pulling it out.''
Sora scratches his head, letting it all seep in at last. ''Wait…so what…er…where is the heart now?''
''It hasn't fully manifested itself yet, because I wasn't able to complete the process. We didn't have enough time. So in physical form, yes. But figuratively, it's still inside Roxas.'' She curls farther into her coat, hand slipping into one of the pockets and carefully placing something green in his palm. ''Here.''
It's a star-shaped trinket, jade glass and silver entwined, shimmering crystal and a delicate frame. There were stitches interwoven through a shining symbol in the center. The keyblader's mouth opened to form a small 'o'. It was pulsating in his grasp, as if it was alive. As if it was a heart. There was a sensation, a fluttering in his chest. It was pure light, encapsulated in his hand.
''This is just like the good luck charm Kairi gave me! It's not made with thalassa like mine, though.'' He pulls out his own charm, resting the two side by side in admiration.
''Ventus told me that it was called a Wayfinder.'' Xion replies quietly, color seeping back into her face ever so slowly. ''The representation of his heart…although it's not fully complete yet. Just the outer shell.''
''So…it's not really him?''
''Yes.''
Sora pockets the two keepsakes, thoughtful. '''I'll keep them safe for the time being, if it doesn't bother you.''
''Not at all.''
''What do we do now, though? Did he tell you anything?''
She frowns. ''Truth be told, it's hard to communicate with him at all. I mean, I have to tune out all other connections and…'' She stops mid-sentence.
''What?''
The girl takes a deep breath, steadying herself and setting the crayon in her other hand down. Oh, he had almost forgotten about that. ''I'll show you. Don't freak out, okay? Just watch. I can only do it once.''
The brunette nods anxiously, and Xion, eyes lidded, lets her arms rest at her sides. The air is slow and calm, but it begins to tingle, sharpen. Winds begin to buzz, like the alighting of fireflies into the world. He's entranced. A pang to his head, and colors burst. Too vibrant; he looks away for the slightest of seconds.
He looks back, and his eyes widen.
Naminé is standing in Xion's place, dress and sandals and all, sketchbook dangling in her arms. No sign of the other girl around. So, Sora does the logical thing and freaks.
''How in the – Xion was – Naminé, y-you're here –? ''
A stray laugh trickled out of her throat, though she quickly clamped a hand to muffle the noise. She motioned to him. ''This is what I was talking about.''
''What – so you – ''
''Yep, that valuable skill I've been cultivating. An illusion; the voice of conscious reason in someone's heart. It's the easiest to connect to Ven this way.'' Naminé-Xion looks down. ''It's hard to explain, but she'd probably do much better at it than me. I suppose it's because of her bond with you, and those who surround you. She isn't called a witch for nothing.''
''Can you talk to him right now?''
Her fingers tighten. ''I couldn't, even if I wanted to. It would...'' She faintly exhales. ''He needs to be focusing all his energy into it as well. Right now his heart's in complete shambles. And Roxas being completely out of his wits doesn't help.''
''Oh…but why didn't you tell me earlier?'' Sora gripes, folding his arms. ''You were psyching both me and Roxas out with your mind games.''
The girl shakes her head, all temporary happiness gone. ''I needed Roxas to let his guard down, and he…no one remembers me. I can only hold this form for so long.''
''But why go to all the trouble? Introduce yourself as Xion and explain instead!'' He argues.
She steps back, shocked. ''If I did that, then Roxas would be in danger.''
''How?''
''The darkness was already growing in him; nearly past the point of no return. It was about to awaken completely, and gain a relative consciousness. I needed to be fast.''
''Darkness?'' Sora tilts his head, speculating.
Xion speaks fast. ''I don't know how to describe it. Entity, shade, ghost, evil. All I know is that it wanted Ven's heart, and it was willing to use any means to get it. I still don't – I don't know if I've succeeded. It's all up to Roxas now.''
''This is so confusing, Xion. Or Naminé. Whoever you are.'' The brunette throws his hands up in the air. ''So all we need to do is defeat this dark creature, and everything's back to normal?''
She frowns. ''I…think so.''
''What do you mean, 'think'?''
''It's not 100% that you'll go back in possession of your body. Or what exactly will happen to Ventus, if we do.''
''Which brings us back to square one, doesn't it.''
''I'm afraid so.''
''Isn't that bad?''
Xion shuffles uncomfortably, way too awkward when donning the appearance of another. ''Actually, that isn't the worst part.''
''Try me.''
''You're convinced this is a crazy dream you'll wake up from, right?'' She mumbles.
He stares so long at her she thinks that he gazed straight through her soul. Finally, he works up the courage and says, ''Mm.''
She balks. ''What is it?''
''Well, yeah. Basically.''
The Mysterious Tower looms ahead, starkly lit lighthouse within a blaze of dark. There's not even a single star to be seen; only shadows and splotches of black. The Gummi ship's idling far off, while Chip and Dale scurry to the top. Jiminy, the silent grasshopper and voice of reason, decides to stay behind while Donald and Goofy make their way toward the castle. It's not like anyone can blame him; it's a mission reserved just for those two and regardless, it's something that he probably wouldn't like to hear.
There's a solid creak in wood as the duck and dog venture up, up, and away. No heartless, only brightly lit halls and shapes of constellations wrought on windows. The stairs are endless until they're not, and it takes less time than they thought it would to pass each floor. Their breathing's slow and even as they clear the last door and stand before the legend himself.
Yen Sid, undoubtedly, has gotten much older. More sags and wrinkles, skeleton fingers and a gaunt expression. He observes them coolly, sharp gaze picking up the book toting around in Goofy's gloved grip.
''I've been expecting you.'' He doesn't smile. It isn't very encouraging.
Donald ruffles his feathers, put out. ''So you already know about the book?''
Yen Sid rubs his palms together. ''Ah yes, that book. If you would…''
Goofy hands it to him, tipping his hat as he does so. ''There's something you should know, sir. We've gone through the liberty of lookin' through that there book, and there's something awfully strange about it, especially at the ending. The story isn't anything like King Mickey told us, a'hyuck.'' At that point, Donald stomped on the dog's foot, causing a tremendous roar.
''Owwwwwwwwww! What did you do that for?''
''Don't t-tell him, you dimwit! It was supposed to be a secret!''
''G'warsh, Donald, we aren't supposed to keep secrets. Anywho, I reckon he already knows now.''
''Duh!''
Yen Sid looks on, unfazed. ''It has been enchanted to take on that form. The book's real purpose is something else entirely.''
''…Hah? I'm a magician! I would've known if there was any spell on it!'' the duck flusters. He had his stalwart pride on the line, and planned on keeping it safe.
''A higher algorithm set, of course. One that I cannot decipher, as it is meant for someone else to unlock. No matter; I am glad to see it finally returned. I was afraid Mickey would have never found the time.''
''But why did our Majesty have it? What did he need it for?''
The two are hit with a steely gaze. ''Do not ask me questions that only your King would have the answer to. I can only follow so much under his reasoning.''
The two grow quiet, and then Donald asks, ''Are the worlds in danger again?''
Yen Sid smiles for the first time, albeit grimly. ''I cannot say for sure at the present time, though as the situation stands, our future is certainly heading toward that outcome.'' He sweeps his arm, beckoning the two. ''We cannot idly stand by and let all fall to ruin, however. Follow me.''
''Riku, why do you only own soap operas?'' Kairi, halfway in the DVD cabinet, yanks out a case at random. ''Love Never Comes Twice In August. I mean, what is this?''
''They aren't mine.''
She pops the lid open. ''Why is your name on the inside cover?''
''If you want to leave, the door is always open.''
Kairi giggles. ''Classy. Really, though, do you actually watch these?''
He shakes his head with an edge of ruefulness. ''They're Sora's, actually. I just happen to be the guy with the funding. You wouldn't believe how much of a romanticist he is. He's cried at least once on every single one.''
''Oh, I never knew. I guess I'll be going with, um – '' She doesn't know what to say.
Riku sees her eyes dim and pauses in the middle of timing the microwave. ''When the Leaves Die is a great tear-jerker.''
Eventually (which never came soon enough), the movie's popped in the VCR, and the popcorn's just melting in the bag, and the TV's all plasma and lights. The two position themselves on the couch, close but not too close, the perfect distance for friends. It's a sappy cinema flick, filled with cheating lovers, dying sweethearts, and too much sobbing, but it's enough for them. It serves its purpose well, in its own convoluted way.
The climax hits; the boyfriend dies, and Kairi's vision is misting over. She's actually crying over the corny film. She rubs at her eyes angrily, while Riku chuckles. ''Got something in your eye?''
''You're a Heartless.''
''How do you figure?''
''Only the shadows of a human could watch this scene without physically breaking down in some way.''
Another quiet laugh reverberates in his chest. ''You are such a girl sometimes.''
She blanches. ''What do you mean, sometimes?''
He pats her on the head, and she leans on his shoulder, blinking away at the moisture collecting at the edges of her vision.
''My shirt's getting wet.''
Kairi shrugs, rubbing her face on her sleeve. ''So?''
''Thought you should know.''
''I'll take it into consideration.''
'Which means you aren't going to do anything about it.'' He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
She laughs hollowly. ''Yeah, how'd you know?''
''Lucky guess.''
The movie ends and the two stays in that same place, halfway between friend and something more. Riku's breathing is, by default, steady, but Kairi's heart is racing erratically on a train track. She can see the screen clearly again, but it sort of ruins the moment when all someone can see is a black empty rectangle.
''What's wrong with Sora?'' Kairi begins quietly. ''He's different now. When he first came back, there was no change I could see, but now it's like I don't even know him.''
She wraps her arms around herself. ''It's not only that. He won't answer my calls, he spends all his free time alone, and every time I see him I…I…!''
''You miss him, don't you.'' Riku finishes the sentence calmly.
''Don't tell me you don't feel the same, Riku. I'm scared for him, scared of what…he's becoming.''
The teenager doesn't say a word, but Kairi sees him nod, finally closing his eyes.
She disentangles her head from his shoulder to let it loll on the couch. ''The weird dreams I've been having lately aren't helping matters. They're all about this boy with blonde hair who I think I met once, although I can't remember where, exactly. In them, he's lost and he's trying to find…''
No warning.
There's only fog and mist and steeples of stained glass, not marble; ghosting fingers on a pool of ice, or is it air? Roxas vaguely wonders if he's losing his mind when everything goes black then white and he can only taste the tang of metal on his tongue. There's a whooshing, a whistling in his ears, and his hands try to reach for anything (something, anything!) but there's only dead space.
He's falling, falling, falling. But he isn't and he's not. To drown in clouds and air; see the skylights morph to waves crashing, choking, holding fast; that isn't logical, but it still there all the same.
Roxas, bluntly put, is drowning. He's got all the symptoms; blurring vision, screaming lungs, and bloody vessels lacking oxygen. Yet, yet, yet, he's still coherent enough to wish he was unaware. Fall-apart sand begins to collect around him, smoky spheres that resemble nothing he's ever seen before. Fade in, fade out. Roxas can't move, can't even lift a stupid finger to push them away. (Move! Move!) He needs to save his best friend, but at that rate things were progressing, he couldn't even save himself.
Shivering fast, hands struggling to retrieve on to whatever it is he's lost. Evidently, when the light dies out, so does he. The heat's gone; maybe it was never there to begin with. There's an instantaneous friction in temperature, a chill in the air; the degradation of dissonance, into fictional lifelines that almost make sense.
''Help,'' He says, relinquishing the last of his breath.
(Something grabs at his wrist, something like a hand or a monster from the deep pulls him back.)
And then he's back to reality, head throbbing and painfully aware. Surroundings swim back into focus, and the scenery's still the same, mark one difference; there's someone waiting for him, barely a few feet away.
The catch is the appearance; the stranger looks exactly like him. Different clothes, different expression. But he can see the disturbing similarities in the lines and planes that made him up.
What the hell.
''Finally awake? You were thrashing about in your sleep. A lot, actually. …Not that I'm one to say anything.'' The doppleganger remarks with a yawn. ''Ah, I'm still so tired, even here.''
''…What.''
''Oh! I forgot to introduce myself. My name's Ventus. Ven for short. You are?''
''Roxas.'' The Nobody replies cautiously, utterly perturbed. The guy had to have noticed their identical hairstyle, at least. He isn't sure whether to run or point it out, so he sits up.
Ventus nods. ''It's just like he said. It's still him.'' He flicks a strand of hair out of the way and Roxas notices for the first time the look-alike isn't all there. The edges of his figure fray, distorting it until his image comes out of focus. Besides that, why are his statements so strange? And what was he doing here?
''Why do you look like me?'' The blonde asks in a small voice; reflections were supposed to stay in mirrors, not act all cheery and friendly.
''It's not like I know anything about that. I've just been waiting for you to arrive.'' He's rocking back and forth on his heels; his shoes, oddly enough, are blurring right at the soles.
''Okay, let me rephrase that: who are you, really?''
He cocks his head to the side quizzically. '' I'm trying to help you out. Does it matter? ''
''Yes, it does!''
Ventus folds his arms, eyes shining a sick neon instead of aqua for once (and something about it is so off, but Roxas can't put his finger on it, exactly). ''Suit yourself. I'll cut straight to the chase. Are you ready now?''
Number XIII is caught off guard. ''For what, exactly?''
''This.'' And then the replica is right in front of him, smiling, smiling as he punches him straight in the gut. Roxas isn't expecting it, so the force blows him a considerable distance across the threshold. He winced, involuntarily sizing up; pain still felt the same anywhere he went, even in the realm of absolute madness.
Ventus goes up to him at a leisurely pace, letting amusement grab hold of him in an almost…innocent way. ''He won't get angry at me if I can just make you disappear. That way, this Ventus person will really come back.'' A keyblade appears in a split second in his right hand (it looks so familiar, almost like…), and he raises it dramatically, almost showing it off. ''Now don't move, and this won't hurt a bit.''
The copy plunges the weapon downwards and Roxas deftly twists to his side with a groan, arms sprawled out in a desperate measure to summon his keyblade. He scrambles upwards and away at a nearby slash, cursing.
''Hold still!'' Ventus grunts and continues the whole 'stab, release, stab' sequence in time with Roxas's dodges, picking up the pace.
Screw that. He isn't going down, not without a fight.
