CH 8: Oblivious
The flowers were dying; each petal was clinging on by a shred of luck as the wind twisted them north and south. The stems bent unnaturally low from the wear-and-tear, ready to drop at the sound of a pin. It was eerily silent in the castle; the rush of servants temporarily halted, all for one individual in an extravagant purple dress.
Daisy was angry.
For all it was worth, she could make rivers pour blood and volcanoes explode into ash. She had the power to do so, and even with her sweet disposition, there was no telling what she would do to anything that hindered her path. If heartless were to appear at that second, they would have cowered in fear, sinking back into the ground to save their souls. Enchanted brooms flung themselves down the staircase three at a time, risking an untimely death than become the object of her wrath.
Other workers held more restraint, but hung back in slightly panicked awe as she kept up a staccato rhythm, heels clicking abruptly down the hall. They whispered behind her back, frantically diving back to their duties to appear occupied.
''Do you know what happened?'' a servant chirped, bugging out, hands twitching over the glass case he was transporting. ''I've never seen the duchess like that before.''
''You're new, dimwit. Of course ya' don't know that she's got a mighty fearsome temper.''
''…Is she like this all the time?'' he asked again, persistently.
''No. There's only one person I know that can rile up her feathers like that. And if I recall correctly, he ain't even here.''
''Then why is everyone so scared?''
''Stop asking so many questions and hurry up, or I'll rip your tongue out myself.'' With a boiling hiss, the worker went off in a rush. The lackey soon followed behind, though a tad more sullenly.
It was undeniable. The panic was tangible, hovering over the building, even in the air they breathed. Daisy wasn't one to become aggravated easily. The bird, smoothing down her dress as she walked, didn't even look the part. She didn't have to. Calm smile, a light tap of the heels. Her aura was enough to kill any living thing that got within a radius of ten feet that was reduced to a sniveling, cross-eyed mess.
She stormed through the throne room doors without missing a beat, phasing through the gigantic barrier without a sound. Looming large and white, it was desolate. Notoriously empty, no sign of a particular mouse-eared king or queen in sight. Stepping over the burgundy carpet, she gathered up her skirts and headed directly behind the looming seats without a noticeable pause. She placed a webbed foot down on one of the creamy, white tiles directly adjacent to the majesty's chair, and a section of the floor sunk, revealing a series of stairs leading downward with a disjointed clink. Her dress swished across the floor down, creating a new set of footprints next to the other two in the dust. Someone else had come down there, recently.
Reaching the bottom, she finally flicked a hand out, impatiently, blinking a few times. If she had her way, she's redecorate the whole place, starting with the walls. She didn't know what the king was thinking by keeping everything a pristine white. Sure, it created an impression, but it was blinding to look at.
Making her way to the pedestal in the center of the room, Daisy saw the mouse gazing at the hovering orb, face obscured and back to her. He had heard her approach.
It wasn't going to stop her, however. ''King Mickey! Have you seen Donald? I can't find him anywhere!'' She struggled to keep the tone of derision from leaking out of her voice, but she was one second away from raving. Not this whole fiasco again.
Mickey didn't turn.
She tried again. ''I know he isn't in the courtyard. I checked the ballroom, as well. And Chip and Dale are missing, too, although there's another gummi ship in the hangar…'' She shook her head, wishing away stray thoughts. ''Minnie doesn't seem aware of it either.''
At the mention of the Queen's name, Mickey's enormous ears twitched. Appearing to snap out of a trance, he faced her, eyes darting wildly before making eye contact. He sighed, lapsing back into a more comfortable position. ''Oh, Daisy. It's you. I thought Minnie found me already.''
He forced a laugh, and for all his wit, Daisy was no idiot. She saw his anxiety etched in every single action, flickering eyes and a stumbling step back, gloved hands going flat on his sides.
''Donald's gone off again, hasn't he? Goofy, as well.'' She gazed at the hollow of his throat; he took a rattling gulp as he swallowed. There was a solitary heaviness in her chest, that sort of awful feeling when the truth is out in the open and it's more condemning than one would realize.
His face betrayed it all; he didn't have to say a word.
''You let them leave.''
''I'm sorry, Daisy.''
She didn't waver as she stared him down, black eyes smoldering in their sockets. Somehow, he didn't burn. He kept his composure, but his mind was pre-occupied elsewhere.
Daisy averted her eyes to the side, as if admiring the architecture. Close by, the king let his back rest against the marble mounting that housed the Cornerstone of Light.
''I had to.'' Every single word was layered with regret.
She bit back a burning that welled up in her throat. ''When will they be back?''
''I have faith in them,'' Mickey avoided the question, finding he couldn't meet her scrutinizing glare. ''Once they've managed to mend his heart, they'll return.''
''I can't believe you.'' Daisy instinctively folded her wings around herself. She was past listening, let alone caring. Didn't he trust her? ''You didn't even let me send them off.''
''You wouldn't have let them leave.''
''Of course I wouldn't! They just came back!'' Her voice raised a whole octave, screeching.
''Don't be selfish.''
''How can you say that? You're the one who's still here.''
He flinched, guilt-ridden. ''You know how it is with Minnie.''
''So I come second to her, just because she's the Queen.'' she shot him a withering look, bristling.
''You know I don't think that.''
''I don't know what goes on in that head of yours.''
''Daisy…''
''Forget it. I'm leaving.'' she muttered coldly, making a hasty exit, climbing the steps two at a time. ''Next time, try to come up with a better reason.''
Mickey hung back, watching her ascend upwards as quickly as her dress would allow, trying to hold in a sudden influx of emotions. He was, to a point, conflicted. Folding his arms, he looked up, watching the light globule cast away all the shadows, leaving no trace of darkness.
It was a long time before he noticed another individual stooped over him for quite a while, waiting with a sort of expectancy and patience he'd come to value and respect.
''Merlin?'' He called out, his voice echoing hollowly.
''Right here, come to check up on your current whereabouts,'' the wizard folded his hands behind his back, blinking a few times. ''You were staring up there quite a while.''
''I was thinking.''
His eyes twinkled like stars caught in the glass of his lenses. ''Do you need help? You look indecisive, to say the least.''
Mickey sighed. ''Did I do the right thing, sending them out like that? They don't know everything. If they did, well, maybe they wouldn't have agreed.''
''I believe you did, dear king.'' He offered, his mouth pulling up apologetically. ''You don't give the two enough credit. They possess an intellect well beyond their years. I'm sure they figured it out.''
The mouse frowned, frustration creeping up like a vine to quash his hopes. ''I know they can do it. They can help him. But can Sora save himself, in his condition?''
Merlin's hat slipped down a notch on his head as he placed a comforting hand on the majesty's miniscule shoulder. ''The Queen will understand if you go, Mickey.''
''I can't leave her, after she's waited so long. You didn't see her, once I came back. She wouldn't let me out of her sight for days.''
''I know you are struggling to reconcile your decision, but I will not force you to favor one side over another. I stand by your judgment, as ruler of this land.''
He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. All he could here was the rushing of blood to his head, and his pounding heartbeats. After a moment's hesitation, he relaxed. ''You're right.''
Merlin fought another grin, which was threatening to bring itself up to the surface. ''What will you do now, then? What does your heart tell you?''
''To make things right.'' The mouse replies.
The wizard could only smile.
''…You understand, right?'' Kairi's sitting off to the side, picking uselessly at her jacket and sinks deeper in the seat, as if she could make herself disappear. Uncomfortable, she scoots a little farther away from Riku. It isn't that she doesn't like him; on the contrary, he was the best source of advice she had.
Selphie wouldn't understand it; she had never been that close to Sora to begin with. Even now, she had a hard time even recalling him back a few years, to the island where they'd carve lines in the sand and play hide-and-seek. Olette was just a fond recollection now; with every passing day, the memory of a girl with emerald eyes slipped closer to a dream than reality. She didn't even have a picture of her, and Kairi was certain that calls didn't go across possible dimensions of space and time.
And Naminé no longer responded to her, the blond witch with a plaintive gaze. It was as if she wasn't there, anymore. Absorbed right into her consciousness, out of existence; the way waves would slowly erode, she disappeared.
On one side, it was nice to have singular thoughts. Her Nobody tended to dwell on the more melancholy events, and it was painful. Memories of the past the princess couldn't ever recall in her would swirl, vines and crayons and waiting for someone, anyone, to save her. She'd tell her to stop, but there wasn't anything like privacy mattered much; it wouldn't make it go away. It was herself, wasn't it?
But when she needed her most, Naminé was gone.
He nodded tersely. ''What are you going to do now, then?''
She stopped playing with the button on the lapel of her coat to fish out a phone. Her speckled blue nail polish shone as she started to dial some numbers. ''I'm going to call him.''
''Since when does he answer calls?''
She clicked her tongue. ''He'll pick up his cell if he sees it's me.''
The phone picked up its generic two-note pattern, a sort of muted beeping as it tried to transfer the call.
One, then two rings; Kairi held her breath, impatient. Three, four, five, and six; Riku kept up the perpetual poker face.
At the seventh chime, it connected. She smiled petulantly at the other, before placing the phone at her ear. ''Hey, Sora! It's Kairi. I was wondering if maybe you weren't busy, you could come over to Riku's place? We're having a sleepover.''
On the other line, there was an exhale, and then: ''No thanks.''
''Why not?''
The voice emitted a guttural groan. ''Now's not the time, okay? I'll call you later.''
''But Sora – wait – ''
The phone flat lined into a monotone buzz; disconnected. She let her hand flop onto her lap, clutching the phone tight. For some reason, she couldn't do anything for a second but stare at it like a live anaconda.
''I guess you're going to say 'I told you so,' aren't you?''
''I'm not that heartless.'' Riku dislodged the phone from her tiny grip, snapping it shut and handing it back to her. ''Do you think we should head over to his house, ourselves?''
She shook her head, eyes wide and sad. ''We don't even know if he's there. Wouldn't we be, um, intruding?''
He ruffled her hair, rolling his eyes. ''This is Sora we're talking about.'' The teenager stopped, silent, to stare at her. ''You aren't...scared of him, are you?''
''Why would I be?''
''You've been acting odd lately. Are you sure you're alright?''
''Yeah.'' She replied, frowning. ''Let's go.''
''I'll get everything set up.'' And Riku was off, brushing past her quietly.
Once she was certain he was gone, she curled up into a ball, sighing. The redhead thought about the note still nestled in her pocket, the one with the king's insignia. Traitorous, but she couldn't form the words to apologize, so she didn't.
They were supposed to be childhood friends.
One look, she reasons to herself. Just one tiny peek and I'll roll it up again.
Kairi took out the letter and broke the seal, carefully unfurling the parchment, and began to read.
He can't look away. There's isn't a single glint to indicate anything more than fanciful wishes, but he's stuck there enchanted, windows clear, cold night, cold sky. Waiting for it to happen, nanoseconds recorded like a half-remembered lullaby in his head.
Something to ease the soul, or maybe soothe the heart; does it matter?
The moon's a dollop of acrylic white blotch, too lopsided for a crescent. There's the gentle slope of mountains, and beyond, well – he doesn't know what's there, not yet. But he swears he will, in time. The dream's long forgotten as he presses his hands against the glass and then –
''A meteor shower!'' he cries excitedly, the light weaving strange shapes on his face.
He isn't too aware of much else as he swings his legs over the bed, shoes clunking audibly as he smashes his way through the room. He's carried away by sheer will alone, enough to cancel any stray thoughts. He races down the steps into the courtyard, which shouldn't look familiar (carved arches and stone foundations), but it does, and it sends his heart racing.
He's home, and that's all that matters.
Stopping to catch a breath, his vision sways from the overhanging lanterns to the entwining vines over marble foundations. It sends a jolt of nostalgia running through his veins, making him oh-so-attentive to every sensation running over him. The world smells of newly-cut grass and rain puddles.
''I can't see much from here.'' his mouth says, and the boy, mildly surprised, wants to clamp his two hands over it (because he didn't say it, he knows he didn't, but it's out there regardless).
His body jerks him forward, and his consciousness has no choice but to follow along, trapped in a quiet, muted panic. There's alarm bells going off in his head, warning of something ominous, but with his one-track mind, all he can picture is gigantic falling stars and its heart wrenchingly beautiful in his mind's theater.
The boy is pulled into the euphoria, over the stone flooring, clunking over the bridge, deftly climbing over cliff faces like he's done it his whole life. (And he has, hasn't he?)
He gets it into his head that the suspended disks swinging idly in the air are too much of a temptation to pass up, and it's interesting, and they're moving; how could anyone resist a shot at them? It's all for the training he's had since he was child. Of home, and recognition melding with a stark unfamiliarity, but he trusts it.
So he swings his hand through the air, slicing through oxygen for a brief second, and his fingers glimmer faintly as a key appears, right there, in his hand.
Sora freezes, with a start, the retention of images played over as he fought monsters but for what reason and why – stop.
It isn't his key, here; it's more airy, the weight insubstantial and indefinitely unequal, curved at the wrong angle. Besides, he's even holding it wrong. The teeth of the blade are supposed to be facing the other way. He would never hold it backhanded; fighting straight and true was his method.
He tries to change it, but it was if his hand was coated in runny glue coating, because only a solitary finger trembles. He can't let go, or utter a single word as he begins to mindlessly slash at the metal contraptions, taunting them with words that aren't his.
His head throbbed as he tried to get a better grip on his surroundings. He couldn't seem to switch his sight, either; it did what it was set to, as if it had a mind of its own. Even in the brief lapses, he could see that even his clothes were different.
Sora was still confused, but now it was evenly tempered with fear. What was going on?
Somehow, he managed to finally wriggle his way out of hitting the discs, but soon is drawn forward, going up the sloping path without his own volition. Every step is normal, but inside, he's twisting, unable to make a single step of his own. Making his way to the top, the sky is littered with stars, and they're enough to put a rest to his panic, temporarily.
His emotions do a little flip, and even though he'd seen crashing meteors before, somehow, out in that wide, open field, it was like seeing them for the first time again. This thought scares him terribly, but he can't detain himself from stretching out on the grass, staring up in rapt fascination.
''Wow…why does it seem so familiar?'' he murmurs, faintly.
Too soon, his attention strays elsewhere, and before he knows it, he's sleeping.
Who –
Am –
Kairi grips the letter tightly, the knuckles in each hand going white, starkly pale against the red of her hair. Vibrant maroon against deadened-white; it's clashing, surreal. ''I-I…'' She manages to utter, the metronome of her heart quickening in response of footsteps.
Disjointed, broken. Almost like –
''Are you alright?'' Riku's standing at the doorway, watching Kairi fumble with her pocket, fingers splayed out over her coat and smiling weirdly.
''Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go.'' She mumbles while her composure stays placidly calm. Keeping up a smile, because that's what she is. The motivation, the reason, and once that's lost, everything else tumbles apart at the seams. Did he read it? Did he notice?
No, no.
Riku doesn't notice a thing.
-
Disney, Square Enix, Kingdom Hearts, etc.© All belong to their respective authors/creators.
-
