A/N: This is a fanfic that does not attempt to be serious, or even about the series. It unabashedly stars real humans—namely, my dearly beloved sister WOWZAcoolBEANS, for whose birthday this humble fic is a gift.
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Lenore and Cybele were frustratingly tight-lipped about their initial behavior towards the two Keyblade wielders. Cybele had welcomed them to their world, but would not tell how she knew they were from a different one, and said no more on the subject. They refused to define the word "Cosplayer" or to explain the origin of Lenore's Heartless sweater; when Riku pressed, Lenore removed the sweater and stashed it somewhere, then pretended it didn't exist. Most disturbing of all, when Sora began telling them the 'Abridged-for-New-Friends' version of his story—the version which eliminated most of Riku's involvement with Maleficent and 'Ansem'—they kept casting each other significant glances. It made Riku uncomfortable. He suspected the two knew more than they were letting on. They didn't smell even remotely of darkness, and if they were spies of some sort they were doing a terrible job of avoiding suspicion, but Riku couldn't think of any other way to explain the way their pitying eyes invariably flicked to him any time Sora attributed one of his deeds to a faceless henchman, or omitted a major battle or event.
Sora trusted them, of course.
Sora had trusted Jack Sparrow, Axel, Iago, Maleficent, and Riku himself. Those had all worked out fine in the end, but Sora was obviously not the shrewdest judge of character.
That was all right, though—Riku could be mistrustful enough for the both of them.
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"Wow, you're really good!" Sora enthused, meeting Cybele's weapon twice in midair and taking a hit on the inside of his arm; he feinted left and landed a quick tap on the girl's shoulder. When he'd offered to spar with the two sisters, Sora had expected to need to go easy on them. Cybele, at least, was proving him wrong.
Sora's padded sword—a stand-in Lenore had provided from a stock of foam-softened practice weapons she called "boffers" that reminded Sora of Struggle bats—came down for a hit, but was deflected away with a muffled thwump. Three failed strikes later, Cybele made a successful sweep at Sora's ankles; it left her shoulder unguarded, but rather than take advantage of it, Sora disengaged and gave Cybele a grin. She wasn't 'winning' by any means, but she was better than Sora had been when he first received the Keyblade—she had been able to land a hit for every two or three of Sora's, and could parry pretty intuitively.
"Where'd you learn to fight?" he asked.
"Nowhere," Cybele responded. "But dad always said I took after our Great Great Great Great Granduncle Sherman." The strawberry redhead stepped back a few paces and caught her breath, letting the boffer dangle by her side. She looked around at the knot of tracks left in the thin snow during their sparring match. Next to Sora's humongous sneaker prints, the tracks of her own tiny feet seemed all the more diminutive.
"Granduncle Sherman?" Sora asked.
"It's a long story. Just don't mention us in Georgia," Cybele responded, taking advantage of their truce to watch her sister and Riku, who were sparring across the yard.
Lenore was breathing heavily, obviously getting badly beaten by the smirking silverette. Riku was striking rapid-fire at Lenore's arms and torso, blocking the girl's every attempt to retaliate and taking advantage of any drop in her untrained guard. Sora could see a familiar look on Lenore's face—he knew Riku had forced him to wear it more times than he could count, back in those early days on the island before anything was at stake but pride. It was a mixture of intense concentration, frustration, and resignation: knowing you've met a superior opponent and all you can do is flail your arms and pray that you learn from your defeat.
"Ow!" she exclaimed as Riku dealt an unnecessarily sharp blow to her neck; she took several steps backward, out of his range of attack, and rubbed gingerly at the reddish welt rising there. "The hell was that for? That hurt!"
"You think the Heartless are going to fight with foam and plastic? Do you think they won't aim for your neck?" Riku asked. His weapon fell to his side and he looked away. His tone was light and mocking, but there was something about his manner that made Sora feel uneasy.
"I'm not fighting a Heartless right now, am I? I'm just fighting a grey-haired old grouch," Lenore responded, rolling a crick out of her neck and moving back into a ready stance.
"Maybe you aren't fighting them now, but you will," Riku said. He ignored the implicit challenge in Lenore's words, taking a few steps away from her toward the mulched garden bed of a trio of short snow-dusted trees. He squinted into the dimness at the trunk of the central tree, as though he saw something out of the ordinary in the shadows between the trees' trunks and the yard's wooden fence, then shook his head. "Heartless follow the Keyblade. Now that you have it, you'll attract them wherever you go. If you choose to be weak, you're putting everyone around you, everyone you love, in danger." He engaged Lenore again, and talking was replaced by the smack and swish of combat.
Beside Sora, Cybele shivered. From the cold air or from Riku's cold words, he couldn't tell.
"Cold?" Sora asked her. Thanks to the magic of his clothes he was immune to all but the most extreme weather conditions; thirty degrees were nothing to him. The girl next to him, however, had obviously not planned on a great deal of time outside when she got dressed that morning. A pair of black sweater tights, now soaked to the ankle with freezing water, originated from a pair of cuffed denim shorts too short for the weather. Above that she wore a colorful, thickly beaded vest and a turtleneck shirt in vibrant primary red. Sora liked her clothes. They were eccentric and untraditional, yet feminine. They suited Cybele.
"Maybe a bit chilly," she responded.
"Come here," he told her. She eyed Sora's boffer warily, so he chuckled and dropped it. "I'm not trying to trick you." She set hers down too and moved next to him; he put an arm around her shoulder and tugged her in closer. "Stay close to me, I don't want you getting hurt," he said.
Cybele's cheeks suddenly felt less cold.
"Ready?" She nodded. "All right. Fira!" he called out, and a circle of flames erupted around them; the resulting blast of hot wind whipped at Cybele's hair and clothes until they were pleasantly warm and bone dry.
"Whoa!" they heard Lenore gasp from beyond the flaming wall. "When can I learn to do that—"
"After you learn not to drop your guard in the middle of a battle," Riku said. As the flames faded around them, Sora could see Riku pounce on the girl, who only barely managed to deflect a vicious downward swing. Riku's momentum carried him past his opponent, so he swung his arm backward, landing a solid blow across Lenore's back that sent her stumbling forward and onto her hands and knees in the snow.
"Riku!" Sora called, and the other boy turned. When his eyes fell on Sora, then traveled the length of his arm across Cybele's shoulders, Sora saw something chilling flash behind his eyes. "Lay off her, Riku," Sora said firmly.
"Not until she fights me like she means it," Riku said, tossing his boffer aside. Lenore was getting to her feet, her own sword still gripped in her freezing fingers. Riku surged forward; she brought her boffer up in a defensive reflex.
"Riku, no!" Sora shouted. Lenore's practice sword was lying in the snow in two pieces, its core of blue foam and white plastic exposed in cross-section, and Riku's Way to the Dawn was flashing upward to strike Lenore.
The copper Keyblade appeared in its wielder's hand in time to block the blow and parry Riku's next several strikes away. The clash of Keyblade on Keyblade came sharper and faster than the sounds of the practice battle before, Lenore matching the motions of Riku's blade barely fast enough to keep its razor wingtip from slicing her skin. Riku fought with broad sweeps that caught at Lenore's loose jeans and tore holes in her tee shirt. Lenore took a completely defensive tack, putting all her strength and concentration into keeping Riku as far away as possible. With every parry she lost ground, until she felt the heel of her foot bump against the fence. The blows didn't stop, so she did the only other thing she could think of—she sliced forward, slashing a gash in the boy's tautly muscled upper arm.
Riku barely winced, though blood trickled down his pallid forearm. Lenore landed another hit on his arm, and a slightly deeper strike on his side below the ribs, but then a firm counterstrike unbalanced her and she fell backward, sliding ungracefully against the fence.
"Stop!" Sora appeared behind the silverette, Keyblade in hand. He hooked his blade's shaft around the taller boy's chest and arms, restraining him from moving forward. Which was fine by Lenore—she was nearly flat on the ground, and the bat-winged blade was inches from her face. She had to cross her eyes to see the tip. Cybele was at her side in moments, her own glittering Keyblade drawn and pointed threateningly toward Riku as she crouched protectively over her older sister.
When Sora chanced a glance at Riku's face he expected to see anger, disgust, the hollow blankness of insanity, or some other expression which would correspond with or justify what he'd just done. Instead, he got a relaxed smirk.
"That's how you do it," Riku said, allowing his blade to vanish and his hand to fall to his side. "You still need a bit of work, though."
Lenore blinked several times in shock. "Nutcase," she spat, and scrambled away as quickly as she could.
Sora moved to follow her, but Cybele held up a hand. "I'll go. You… figure this out," she said with a vague gesture toward Sora's smugly bleeding companion before she followed her sister inside the house.
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Lenore was sitting on the couch dripping muddy ice water onto the carpet. Cybele might have been worried about what their parents would think of the mess, if a pair of video game characters hadn't materialized from a glowing portal in the living room earlier that afternoon.
"Norah? You okay?"
"Bruises and scratches." She shrugged.
"That wasn't quite what I meant." Cybele sat down next to her sister and searched her for serious injuries. Lenore's short brown hair was sticking up in erratic spikes and curls. Her jeans were shredded and muddy; her favorite shirt—a brown cotton tee with the boldfaced words Still Not King on the chest—was brutalized almost beyond recognition. Only one wound was deep enough to have drawn much blood, a graze along her left knee that had nearly severed the lower half of her jeans' left leg.
"I'd say 'I don't know what his damn problem is'… except I do," Norah said, leaning back into the couch cushions and letting the trembling in her limbs subside.
"Hey Norah… Do you think we should tell them? Maybe what we know could help—stuff about Ven, Aqua, Terra, where Xehanort comes from…"
"I don't think we can assume that everything in the games is exactly the way it happened in… real life." Lenore stumbled slightly over the last two words. "Besides, what would you think if two know-nothing girls from a momentary pit-stop of a backwater world suddenly claimed to know more about your adventures than you yourself?"
"Probably that they were lying. Or evil. … Actually, probably both."
"That's right. And I've already had two closer brushes with Riku's Keyblade than I'd ever hoped to have."
"Hey, I thought you wanted to meet Riku!" Cybele teased. She found it infinitely amusing that Lenore seemed to be getting along so poorly with the boy she loved so much in the games.
"Yeah, but when I imagined the blossoming of our beautiful love, it somehow didn't involve intimate acquaintance with the business end of his weapon," Lenore said, wincing and bringing her hand up to touch a slight nick on her chin. "He's not an easy guy to get along with."
"But Sora is just as sweet as I always thought he'd be…" Cybele said, earning her a raised eyebrow from her elder sister. She blushed and changed the subject. "Have you named yours yet?" Cybele asked. It was a mark of how utterly insane their day had been that she didn't need to specify what she was talking about—there wasn't room in the conversation or in their heads for anything but Keyblades and their wielders.
"I don't think I had much choice," Lenore said, chuckling. "The thing wants to be 'Yesterday's Grace.' What a girly name," she sighed.
"Mine's the same way. 'Tomorrow's Clarity.' No argument allowed. Not that I mind, I think it's a cool name. Way cooler than 'Yesterday's Grace.' Bleagh," she teased, and Lenore cracked a smile. "… So you're not mad at Riku? I think he was trying to help, in his own crazy way."
"Nah. I couldn't stay mad at him long. He's far too pretty. More like I'm suspended in a state of perpetual mild irritation toward him."
"Him and everyone else," Cybele quipped.
"Hey, you're one to talk!"
"Come on, I'm not nearly as bad as you. You don't like anyone."
"Not true. I like you," Lenore said, giving her little sister a one-armed hug.
"But I am the magnificent exception that proves the rule," Cybele responded, ignoring Lenore's cold, damp skin as she leaned into the hug. "How long do you think they'll stay?"
"Well, it's not like we can put them up in the guest room," Lenore said, laughing at the prospect of their parents' faces if they requested a sleepover with two fit, handsome teenage boys—fictional warriors of light or otherwise. "They're on a mission from King Mickey, remember? They'll have to leave soon. They probably just stopped off to repair the gummi ship or something."
"Maybe they'd drop us off in Radiant Garden for a while, if we asked. We could learn some magic from Merlin, practice with our Keyblades… we could tell mom and dad we were going on a road trip or something."
"That sounds amazing. World's best vacation!" She grinned and winked at her little sister, then left to change her ruined clothes. On the bottom step of the stairs she paused. "I'll get stronger," she muttered to herself. "I just need a little time."
Cybele stayed seated on the couch watching the gummi ship's port glimmer gently on the floor, trying to shake the feeling of unease that had settled over her ever since the confrontation in the garden. She felt the unsettling need to keep her eyes open. As though the circle had cut forcibly into the fabric of her boring yet peaceful world, and would warp and fray the edges if she blinked.
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"I wouldn't actually have hurt her, you know."
"Riku…"
"I knew she had it in her. Back on the porch she disarmed me easily, even though I was going all-out. She's just the type who responds better under actual pressure." Sora bandaged the cut on Riku's bicep. He could have just cast some Cure magic, but he felt like Riku deserved a little pain after attacking and terrifying an untrained, unsuspecting ally. He'd survived worse.
"And you weren't feeling… y'know… strange?" Sora asked, tying off the bandage and peering into Riku's eyes. He could recall a time when they had been a darker green; now they were cyan, almost blue and strikingly pale. But even though the King believed Xehanort's influence had been totally purged from Riku's heart when the Heart Encoder had exploded, every so often Sora expected to glance into that face and see the Seeker of Darkness's cold amber eyes staring back. Riku seemed to sense the track Sora's mind was following. He blinked and turned his eyes away.
"I was myself when I attacked her. I really was trying to help." And Sora knew he was telling the truth. Riku had treated him the same way for years on the island. It wasn't that Riku really cared about the name of their raft, or who got to eat the last slice of barbecue chicken pizza, or who got to be the 'prince' to Kairi's 'princess' when they would play Castle in the tree house, but he would challenge Sora over every little detail just the same. Not because he disliked Sora, as Sora had thought when they first met; nor only because he had an ego like a two-ton sandstone block, immense and un-bruise-able (although it contributed to the problem); but because he knew, as Sora now knew, that whenever they fought, both of them grew.
Sora chuckled, and Riku looked at him with surprise and relief. "Just don't attack Cybele like that, okay?"
"What, don't you think she could handle it?" Riku scoffed.
"She'd be just fine; I'm not sure you'd be so lucky. You should have seen her face when you started in on 'her Norah'—it was terrifying."
"You don't think there's anything… strange about that?" Riku asked tentatively. "The way Lenore fights seems normal enough for a girl who keeps a stash of Struggle bats; she's clumsy and slow, but knows a little about judging distance and how to move and block. But with the weird sweater, and the way Cybele fights…"
"She says it's got something to do with her uncle; I didn't really follow. But they seem nice! They don't smell like darkness, do they?"
"No, but—"
"See? Your creepy Nose of Evil Olfaction is good for something," Sora teased. "Cybele doesn't have to be a Heartless spy to have natural fighting talent. Speaking of which, what are we going to do about them? Having a couple extra warriors of the Keyblade flying around can't be a bad thing, especially if things go poorly in Sabrie."
"We'll talk to the King. Maybe they can join Kairi in whatever training she's going through."
"But that's a long way in the other direction, to take them there…"
"We don't need to do it immediately. They'll be fine here until we're finished in Sabrie, and then we can pick them up on our way back home."
"But if there are Heartless…"
"As long as they don't draw their Keyblades, the Heartless won't sniff them out for a while. We have time—"
"I think we should take them with us!" Sora interrupted.
If facial expressions had sound effects, Riku's would have made a resounding thunk like a castle's drawbridge clanging shut. "Out of the question."
"But if they could be in danger here—"
"They'd be in more danger where we're going. They haven't got a shred of experience, and no way to defend themselves if we get in a tight situation."
"They could learn on the way…" Sora said, but his resolve was wavering.
"So you'll take these two girls you've just met with you, despite the fact that there is definitely something fishy about them—no, Sora, don't interrupt me—but you'll happily forget all about Kairi and leave her behind with Doofus Duck and the Dumb Dog Wonder? God, this is Traverse Town all over again!" Riku's voice had risen to a shout. "Is this just because she turned you down? She doesn't want to be with you, so you dump her off with your other buddies and pick up the next cute girl who blushes at you? Some friend you are, Sora."
Sora staggered backward as though struck. Riku's eyes were wide with horror, and his mouth kept opening and closing again like he couldn't decide between spilling out enough apologetic words to drown the last ones he'd spoken or welding his lips shut forever.
The day after they came home to Destiny Islands, Sora, Kairi, and Riku rowed out to the play island with Wakka, Selphie, and Tidus, to celebrate their return from their "study abroad program." They'd gone fishing, made a gigantic sand castle, and played in the ocean until the sun set. Riku had been unfairly good at Marco Polo, thanks to the months he'd spent living and fighting from under a blindfold. Then they lit a bonfire and talked until midnight. It had been one of the best days of Sora's life. So after Selphie and Tidus had snuck away to fool around under the dock and Wakka had conked out from Blitzball-induced exhaustion by the fire, he decided he would make it even better. From where he'd been half-dozing next to Wakka, Riku had overheard the whole thing: Sora's awkward confession, Kairi's soft laughter that faded into horrible silence when she realized he wasn't joking, her murmured apology. During the year Sora had been asleep, Wakka had introduced Kairi to his brother Chappu. Now they were "kind of dating," and "besides, I always thought of you as a brother," and "I'm just really, really sorry, Sora, but I hope you understand…"
The funny thing was, Sora did understand. A few days of mandatory wallowing and three pints of ice cream later, Sora came to terms with the fact that his childhood crush had moved on, and his own feelings for her were largely the same; he liked the idea of taking her to movies and spending plenty of time with her, but when he tried to imagine kissing her it just seemed like it would be awkward. Sora was actually pretty proud of the fact that he hadn't let the failed attempt at romance impact his friendship with Kairi. So to imply that he'd left her behind on purpose…
"Sora!" Riku shouted suddenly; Sora looked up, hurt and angry, but the genuine alarm in Riku's eyes yanked him out of his resentment and dropped him into battle mode. He spun around to look where Riku's eyes were staring. Skittering out of the shadows behind the garden fence, popping up from puddles of darkness on the icy ground, or materializing from the sky and dropping to their feet with clatters and clanks were hundreds of Heartless, all converging on the brown brick house.
The two boys summoned their Keyblades at the same time, instantly jumping back-to-back and blasting a wide chunk out of the seething mass of Heartless with their Limit attack. Glittering hearts spun and rose into the sky like released balloons, while their erstwhile owners dissolved on the ground beneath them.
"Why are they here? Do you think… four Keyblades at once…" Sora asked, letting a thunderbolt blast away a swarm of Blue Rhapsodies that buzzed around his head.
"Not a chance… too many to just have been wandering around. Someone sent these!" With a broad sweep of his blade, Riku sent a Neo Shadow flying; it dissolved as it hit the ground.
"But who?"
"Like I'd know!" Riku took a Defender's spiked shield shot to the arm and gasped. "Sora, have you got Potions?"
"Not many; I hoped there would be a Moogle here to restock," he called, digging in his pocket and tossing one of the sparkling pots at Riku, who let it shatter and the healing liquid slosh against him. "This could be bad!"
Behind them, Sora heard the house's door open and a pair of shocked gasps.
"Crap. The girls!" Riku swore. Sora took off toward the doorway, hacking a path for himself.
"Riku, follow!" he shouted, and the older boy did, slicing aerial Heartless out of the sky over Sora's head while Sora dealt with the ones on the ground. Cybele and Lenore had drawn their Keyblades, but the swarm of Heartless was too close and too dense—neither could swing at the black wave surging toward the door without risking hitting the other. They backed up into the house, pursued by the bug-like shadows.
Sora vaulted over the helmeted heads of several Soldiers and skidded into the kitchen, Riku close on his heels. The house was in shambles—windows shattered, tables and chairs on their sides and broken beyond repair, books and knickknacks in pieces on the floor. Lenore and Cybele were retreating into the living room, taking some serious damage in the process.
"Cura!" Sora shouted; his own wounds, Riku's, and the girls' glimmered and knit themselves together. Riku wordlessly shattered a Mana Potion over Sora's head, and Sora used the fresh strength to strike every Heartless in the house with a massive Thundaga. In the momentary calm that ensued, Riku slammed the door shut and, using his Keyblade, locked it magically against the Heartless incursion.
"Well, that ought to keep us safe for approximately twelve seconds," Riku said, rooting through his pockets and pulling out a pair of thick, rune-stamped rings. "I guess these are all I've got. Put them on." He tossed one to Lenore and one to Cybele, who slipped them on without question.
"What can we do?" Cybele asked, trembling slightly.
"I'm taking you to Yen Sid. He's a magician, and I think he'll help us; his tower isn't too far from here. Neither of you have ever noticed a large Keyhole in any incongruous place, have you?" Sora asked. The two girls shook their heads in unison. "Then we can't seal it now. I'll try to get you two equipped, and then we'll come back and fight." Sora looked at Riku, silently daring him to contradict his decision to take the two sisters along; Riku had the decency to look ashamed, and said nothing. "Come on," he said. The gummi ship's port glowed more brightly as he stepped onto the pad.
"Wait!" Cybele shouted, and dashed from the room, returning a moment later, flushed and clutching an ornate wooden box set with stained glass. "It felt wrong to leave it—"
"No time for explanations, just move!" Riku shouted, and pushed the two girls onto the pad as well. A moment later a Defender's shield smashed through the wall, followed by its owner's lumbering body and a hundred flattened, skittering Shadows, but the four Keyblade Warriors had already vanished in a flash of green.
