Chapter 17: Enchanted

Sora can barely sleep through the night. Falling asleep was half the battle and then staying within the realm of slumber took up the other half. A somewhat reoccurring theme now, the brunet stares at the ceiling of his bunk at around four in the morning, wide-eyed and disorientated. Instead of confused, however, Sora is consumed with a strange sense of exhilaration. Now almost morning, he finally gives up on sleeping further, realizing that his body is just too restless to relax.

He lifts his fingers to his face, tracing the outline of his lips. Though the same shape, same skin and cells, they feel so foreign now. His mind keeps assaulting him with images and moments of earlier/yesterday; Riku, ever so close to him, lifting his chin up; Riku, entangling his hands into his hair; Riku, kissing back and teaching Sora how; Riku, backing him up into that tree; Riku biting his lip. Even now they cause Sora's heart to beat faster and harder. He can feel the beat prominently in the stillness of the night.

All he can think about— aside from the events themselves— is how he surely cannot deserve such care. Through those kisses… no, through this entire camp, Riku has done so much for him, whether he is cognizant of it or not. Though their friendship has not been perfect, it has gone above and beyond all of Sora's expectations in companionship. The brunet wishes there were some way to give back. The brunet wishes he had more time. Actually, the brunet wishes that he and the silveret didn't have to separate at all. Then, maybe, there could be something more… But he can barely allow himself to hope for that possibility. The camp ends in two days; he finally took the time to count. Of course it would take something as drastic as being kissed to realize just how much he is destined to lose. Sora doesn't know exactly where to go from here, but he knows that the camp can't end with just this.

That's when he hears a loud rumble, laughter from Mother Nature herself. It shakes the window of the cabin slightly, the voice unpleasantly raising the hair on Sora's body. Instantly, the brunet sits up. Could it really be? He holds his breath, sitting completely still, and waits for the telltale sound.

Not even a minute later, Sora hears the soft pitter-patter of rain on the roof and against the window of the cabin. He lets go of the breath he had been holding, but even after that his breathing is shallow and quick. The rain urgently comes down, falling faster and faster until it's storming ferociously. The rain demands his presence. His ears tell his heart, his heart tells his brain. With a faint sense of dread, he knows what he must do.

Sora's shuffling noises are mostly drowned by the cacophonous downpour. He changes into a dilapidated pair of basketball shorts, navy blue, and a tattered and stained red shirt; they are comfortable and remind him of himself. After that, he quickly slips on his shoes and tip-toes outside, quickly and silently closing the cabin door behind him.

Almost immediately he is hit with anxiety. The sky is truly sobbing onto the earth reminding him all too well of a time from his childhood. The ground can't hold any more of its sorrow, and has begun making puddles all around. Though still nighttime, Sora can faintly see the exchange because of a light post about a yard away from the front of the cabins, presumably put there for any late night bathroom trips. The light that shines through the rain brings the brunet a small sense of comfort, but the ferocious onslaught still causes hesitation. He takes a few short steps forward, fighting his sense of panic by looking down at the wooden floorboards. Though he faced a little rain after waking up in the nurses office so long ago, the drizzle from then is nothing compared to the terror before him now. Already, his malicious mind is forcing images from the hurricane to the forefront of his mind and all the purpose he felt moments ago when coming outside has disappeared.

He lifts his head, moments away from turning back and pretending he never left the comfort and safety of his cabin. However, he notices that his minor exodus forward changed the way the light shadows the cabin complex, illuminating the left side of the beginning of the staircase leading outside. A new entity is seen silhouetted by the left wall; unless the light is tricking him, someone is there, leaning against the wall and watching the downpour.

"Riku?" the brunet asks incredulously, momentarily distracted from the terror of the rain.

The silhouette stiffens and turns his head slowly. Sora takes a few steps forward, attempting to get a better view to affirm his suspicion. The light catches some silver hairs and illuminates half of Riku's face, currently set in surprise and confusion.

"Sora…?"

The brunet musters up enough nerve to join Riku's side, just behind him to add some distance between him and the rain. Just the fact that the silveret is there quells some of the terror Sora was desperately trying to fight. His higher level of confidence urges Sora to speak. Before Riku can say anything, the brunet asks, "What are you doing?"

The silveret turns fully to face the frightened brunet. He tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, worry already on his face. "I couldn't sleep," he replies quietly, "But what are you doing out here, Sora? It's raining."

The mention of it drains the blood in his face; he can actually feel his face go white. "Y-yeah, I…" Sora isn't sure what excuse to use. His mind is on lockdown by the mere mention of it.

After several silent moments of Sora looking into the rain like a deer in the headlights, Riku asks, "You were going to go into the rain, weren't you?" Though it doesn't appear that Riku needs an answer, Sora slowly nods, swallowing instinctually. The brunet whispers, "It's the only way…"

Sora slowly brings together again the reasons he wanted to subject himself to the sky's vengeance in the first place. His throat feels thick upon remembering. "I have to face it," the brunet says, voice cracking, "otherwise I'll never get better… all of this will have been for nothing."

He forces his stare away from the rain. Riku, though his hair was down before, has put his hair into a ponytail. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed together in thought. When the silveret doesn't reply right away, Sora begins to fidget; should he go back inside? Can he? Should he just surge out there?

Sora had wanted to do this alone. He didn't want to show this vulnerability to anyone. Part of him wanted to prove it to himself that he could force himself to go through with it. But, he realizes, that is no longer an option. He stares at Riku; the mist of the rain has collected on the outside of his hair, making it a little frizzy even though he's pulled it back. His turquoise eyes are shining brightly from the light and his skin looks paler than usual, again from the perfectly placed light; all he is missing are white wings and a halo. The angelic image reminds the scrambled brunet that Riku is a significant part of the reason why he wanted to do this in the first place. The silveret already knows his fear, and knowing him, probably understands his reasons for attempting to overcome his phobia. Sora's conscience urges him; this is the perfect time. Not only will Sora be able to move forward if he does this, but Riku will know he did it too. There is no shame in being terrified now if he doesn't back down. If anything, it'd be a disgrace to even take a single step back.

Sora acts before he can think twice. Holding his breath, he moves to submerge himself in the sky's lament, staring at the ground to avoid downright panic. However, right before his fingertips even cross the line between wet and dry, Riku catches his wrist.

"Don't go in alone," he says, suddenly.

Sora replies without thinking, "You don't have to go out there with me… It's completely silly…I'm-"

Riku shakes his head, smiling slightly. "It's not silly. What kind of friend would I be if I let you deal with this alone?"

Sora snaps his head up. For once, the cherub simply doesn't know what to say. Again, Riku is doing for him what no one else could— or would, for that matter. The brunet is overwhelmed with guilt; he surely doesn't deserve this much care—that's why he wanted to do this, so he would deserve it—

As if reading his thoughts, the silveret continues, "You don't owe me anything, Sora… And you aren't a burden. I want to help," Riku's voice quiets and he looks away, affected by the sensitivity of the statement. Sora blushes, looking away.

The brunet relents, unable to think entirely coherently but anxious to continue; the suspense only makes his fear worse as he has more time to think about it. Honestly, he doesn't want to think about any of it anymore.

Sora whispers, "Okay… Let's get it over with." Though the brunet wanted the statement to sound frustrated, it comes out as only desperate. Sora flinches as another bout of thunder rolls overhead.

Riku releases the brunet's wrist and nods toward Sora, replying compassionately, "Can do."

Sora stands and watches embarrassedly as Riku turns toward the storm and walks into it, unfazed. Almost instantaneously his clothes and hair get soaked by the fusillade of water bullets. The silveret (now grey-haired-male) stops on the second to last step of the drenched stairs and faces Sora confidently. With a soft and comforting smile, Riku outreaches his hand, beckoning the brunet forward to join him. (1) His confident smirk is so hard deny.

Sora gulps, breathing shortly and shakily. It is truly the epitome of the moment of truth. He doesn't want to face all the pain of his past and all the baggage associated with it, but he knows it's necessary. He has the tool to break the chains, but he has to face the fact that they are there first.

Tentatively, Sora steps forward and grabs Riku's hand, inching into the rain. He flinches when his hand crosses into the storm's domain and pauses, again overwhelmed and frozen. However, Riku surprises him and tugs him toward himself, much like ripping off a band-aid. The brunet stumbles but somehow finds himself standing upright on the step right above Riku's. The brunet only has time to note that Riku is still taller than him before the rain captures his full attention as it soaks through his clothes. His whole body tenses and an awful shudder ripples throughout his entire body. Then the images come back, full force like bulls on parade. The catalyst drags out everything Sora hates; even the time that he was tied to the tree at the beginning of the summer comes out to play with his fear and anguish.

The flurry of memories and pure horror of the moment disconnects the brunet's body from his thoughts and his knees buckle unwittingly. Sora barely registers the fall, but he never hits the ground. Riku, ever prepared, catches him and drags the rag doll off the steps. Softly, the silveret sets the brunet down, knees sinking into the muddy gravel. Riku joins the brunet, squatting in front of him. The only things that keep the petrified brunet from falling over into the dirty puddles are Riku's hands: one hand is still gripping Sora's while the other rests firmly on his shoulder, practically holding him up. Sora, however, is unable to appreciate the aid at the moment. His head hangs down, eyes wide open and mouth agape.

A solid minute passes in silence. Sora's chest is being ripped open by his bursting heart; his head is splitting; his hands and feet feel like ice. But there isn't anything he can do; he can't make the memories and irrational fear end. He's stuck in a loop. Why did he listen? Why didn't he save them? Why? What did he do to deserve-

"Sora," Riku says, low and quiet. His voice, so calm and assured, instantaneously bridges the disconnect between Sora's body and mind. He begins to shake as the emotions pour into the lithe physical vessel. Sora gulps and tears begin to pool at his eyes. The hand that holds Riku's tightens in a death-grip.

The brunet attempts to sob quietly, but the silveret can still hear them, strangled and tortured little groans echoing from the most primal part of his being. The downpour is enough to drown Sora's gasps even just a foot away, but the close proximity hides nothing between the two teens. In retaliation, the silveret brings Sora's face to his chest, giving him, literally, a shoulder to cry on. Though meant to muffle Sora more, the generous act actually causes the brunet to weep harder.

Sora cries out of the overwhelming terror and his sadness; the tensions of this camp, the revelations that he's had, the guilt that he's carried, the lonely life he endured before, the lies he's told to cover up his weakness, the hopelessness that he couldn't shake because nothing ever changed; all of it, coalescing into a single act of mourning. He's held it close to his heart for so long that it festered and became infected and became a part of him just as much as the source- the hurricane. It had consumed every part of his life, tainting it in the blackness. But then, way-too-long later, his foster parents set up a fateful appointment and the Doctor nearly had him drowned. And now he's applied antibiotics. He feels the snarls and gnashing of his monstrous infection dying, fighting its last battle. Though perhaps the memories will never be 'defeated', the corruption can indeed be deracinated. A tall order, but that's all Sora needs to finally move forward.

Sora's tears continue to drop onto the ground at an equal pace with the droplets from the sky, but the brunet's strangled cries pass as the fear degrades over time. After all, the rain is not hurting him physically. It's just rain. And with him, the one who holds him to the ground, Sora cannot imagine that any harm could possibly come to pass. Now, the general melancholy consumes him and he dances in the pity-party of his mind; after all, all dead must be mourned. He's cried many tears over his family and these won't be the last, but they share the stage with the late nameless entity that Sora's heart harbored. If anything, it is a time of his life that has passed, a state of Sora that will no longer be available, safe in memory but effete.

After a few more minutes of Sora's sniffling, the brunet finally lifts his head, wiping his nose on the back of his hand like a child. His eyes are red and puffy and his cheeks are similarly blotched with color. He roughly sniffs, gathering composure again. Unsure where to start, Sora says to his loyal companion, "Thanks, again."

"No worries," Riku says, "This helps me too." Sora looks up, rubbing each eye.

"How?" The brunet asks, a little skeptical and eager to shake the vestiges of the anguish that were in his heart with diversion.

"By my aiding your redemption," Riku carefully articulates, "you secure mine."

Sora waits for more, but the soaking wet silveret falls taciturn. He watches Riku closely, grateful for the distraction; of course, he is just as gorgeous wet as he is dry. A few soaked strands of have come down rebelliously from the ponytail, framing his face. And his eyes, oh those eyes, bright with emotion iridescently shine as morning creeps out of bed. The sky is brimming with orange now, unveiling the transition from the purple night to the blue morning. If Sora were artistic, he might be inspired to paint. If Sora were counting such things, he'd realize how often he captures his best friend's image in his mind, glorifying not just his appearance but his entire being.

"Please," the brunet pleads, placing his one free hand on Riku's knee, "please tell me." Part of it is his pure and incessant curiosity, but another part is the urgent desire to know everything there is to know about the silveret and to affirm that the benefits of their relationship aren't simply one-sided.

The rain falls softly now, more like silent tears rather than the egregious fusillade of water that engulfed them only a little while ago. The calm is nurturing to Sora; though focused on Riku at the moment, the feeling of relief and weightlessness is swelling within him. He is reminded of the cool, sighing air around him.

Riku tilts his head down, staring intently at the ground. He is hesitating, perhaps to find words or perhaps in conflict over whether words should be formed or not. Sora is complacent however, patiently waiting as he monitors his breathing, slowly bringing his labored lungs to equilibrium again. He forces his muscles, tense and aching, to loosen slightly as well though it does not make the gravel any more comfortable on his knees.

Finally, the silveret sighs, muttering, "Well, since we are on a roll here…" And he looks up again, meeting the deep, multi-shaded blue eyes, red rimmed from his recent tears. The silveret speaks again, more strongly than before. "I should've told you awhile ago, but I didn't know how to… explain it to you in a pertinent way," he says, apologizing without the actual words. Sora tilts his head to the side, indicating his interest and lack of indignation. Riku continues, "I… had a friend awhile back; his name was Mickey."

Sora tries to remain stoic, though the name is familiar— and somewhat ominous— in the brunet's mind. "He was kind of a saving grace for me. We became friends by chance mostly, and he was the crutch I leaned on to keep me from going back to the 'bad crowd'," Riku pauses, a slight flush to his cheeks. Sora is unsure whether it is from hinting at the terrible things he had done in his early teen years, or whether it is from admitting his reliance on another person, or even simply talking so much at once. But, unwilling to hinder the silveret's monologue, Sora remains quiet, wondering if Riku is going to mention more about Mikey than what he had heard a couple weeks ago when he overheard Axel and Riku's conversation.

The silveret sighs, reluctantly continuing. "He was a lot like you," he admits, "Brilliant, pure-hearted, and very sympathetic to others. He is literally the reason why I went from being at the bottom of my class to the top 25%; he'd tutor me every day, and if I chose classes he wasn't in, he'd personally change my course list to match his so he could help me. He didn't beat the crassness out of me, but he definitely taught me five-dollar words like 'crass'." Sora snorts in appreciation of the higher vocabulary and Riku smiles softly at his own jokes, somewhat out of the lameness of the jest but also out of nostalgia. But after a moment the smile slips off his face, and he looks down and away from Sora again in shame.

"But… I guess the easiest way to say this is: while he lifted me up, I brought him down. He was so happy and totally oblivious to the immorality in this world until he met me. I was so selfish and self-absorbed, I didn't even see it coming I—" Riku stops, obviously refraining from going on a tangent. He breathes out shakily, seemingly unable to avoid it any longer.

"To cut this story short, he committed suicide," the silveret says with morbid finality. Though Sora already knew of this, the brunet is genuine when he responds incredulously, "Why, though? I don't understand…"

Riku grins grimly, "I don't know the answer either; whenever I think about it, I always manage to blame myself in some way…"

Sora nods, understanding that torment all too well. Sora is about to respond sympathetically, but Riku picks up speed, suddenly less hesitant to speak his mind: "But then I met you."

A sudden enough statement to bring genuine surprise out of the emotion worn brunet, Sora exclaims, "Me? What?" Wasn't Sora just a continuance of Mikey's character in his mind? Isn't that why he withdrew from him?

Riku nods, sharing a rare shy smile. "Yeah," he says softly, clearing his throat and continuing in more confidence, "I was too blind to save Mikey. I didn't see what he was going through until it was too late. But that pain and hefty dose of reality… It prepared me for you."

By now, Sora's cheeks are in full flush by his affectionate words. He heart is beating fast again, but strangely in congruence with how he felt by the track just last night as opposed to the agonizing panic he had felt only minutes ago. His head can hardly wrap around the syllables as the silveret utters some of the very words that the brunet never believed he would say.

Stuttering, he responds, "I-I don't understand…"

Riku merely smiles. "What I mean to say is that by being here for you… I'm making up for my shortcomings with Mikey. This is what he would've wanted. I'm not degenerating anymore… And I know you won't either."

Their eyes met, and they stared together at each other, alone in space. With an effort Sora glanced down into his lap. Riku had told him that he loved him (2), though the four letter word had not been said. Compassion has always been a language that Sora understands and it is speaking volumes now. He was astounded. And yet, it all made sense in a breath-taking, relieving sort of way. Blame it on his emotional state, but he accepts this theory almost immediately as fact. The brunet releases a breath he had not known he was holding. Though he had been absolutely sure he was out of tears to shed, warm tears well up into his eyes and an insurmountable happiness consumes him in a blink of an eye.

When Riku notices his companion is trembling again, his blissful expression morphs into worry again. Tentatively, the silveret inquires, "Sora…?"

Sora suddenly lunges onto Riku, knocking him back into the damp, muddy gravel. Any hopes that Riku had for avoiding filth in this excursion are swiftly thwarted as the soaked but warm brunet knocks the wind out of him. Not even moments later does the silveret realize that this is an embrace and in shock he stays still, unable to retaliate due to bewilderment.

Crying like a small child, Sora exclaims, "Thank you!" for caring for me "Thank you!" for believing in me "Thank you…" for loving me.

Once the appreciative words settle in the silveret's mind, his cheeks flush in a rare blush, muttering, "You're welcome," still quite unsure what exactly he had said to cause such a great reaction. It comes to his attention however that he is not returning Sora's sudden embrace, so hesitantly he lifts his dirty arms and wraps them around Sora lightly. He enjoys the close contact while he can silently, basking in the affection and warmth that the brunet emanates even when soaking wet.

After a few more hiccups and potential tears, Sora lifts his face, drawing himself up by his elbows. He laughs happily, rubbing his eyes again. "I'm sorry", he says with the biggest smile. It is obvious that the cherub isn't morose whatsoever, but the juxtaposition is so adorable the silveret finds his own heart taking flight. It takes every ounce of Riku's will to resist pulling away Sora's hands from his face to give him an Eskimo kiss; it feels so fitting to do so at the time, but he holds back still oblivious to the million thoughts running through Sora's head.

Riku is drawn from his temptation when Sora speaks again, tone reflective in an afterthought sort of way: "You have helped me, Riku,"— he is too enthralled to even blush at his bold words, — "in every way. You are my Miracle!" Sora's face practically glows as he confesses this fait accompli, a crocodile tear slipping down his face. Though Sora had not concluded this specifically before this moment, again the verisimilitude is so undeniable that the statement, as soon as it occurred to him, could not be left unspoken. Just the confession alone lifts a weight from his shoulders.

On the flip side, Riku is speechless. In complete awe. Perhaps Sora's overwhelming happiness is too contagious, but the silveret is unable to quell the raw emotions that rise up from those simple, but profound words. Relief. Joy. Adoration. The angel hovering above him had put water colors on his clear, fluid soul and stuck a finger in, swirling and spreading the colors like the explosive taste after trying a new food. He is able to stay silent, but his throat feels tight and swelled. His body betrays him and a single tear escapes from the corner of his eye, traveling off his face and to the ground delicately. It is a nearly invisible gesture that Sora barely catches; even after seeing it, he doesn't believe his eyes.

Riku, unable to be caught crying, turns his head, the side with the evidence approaching the ground. In a weak attempt to hide his vulnerability, Riku says affectionately, "That was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard."

Sora, instead of protesting, merely grins and giggles. "I stiiiiiill got it!"

The silveret rolls his eyes, but smiles back. He knows now more than ever that Sora truly is his second chance— their second chance— at life. Mikey would be proud. The guilt that Riku had felt is slowly fading like bleach on a stain. Taking its place is the vibrancy that is Sora, an irreversible infection for which he is happy to play host.

But then the silveret snaps to attention suddenly by the feather light sensation of Sora's thumb brushing just under his eye. Sora appears fascinated by his discovery; a slight dampness, barely perceptible but just enough to confirm suspicions. Riku considers claiming that it's merely the rain, or water from his hair, but in the end he isn't willing to lie. The vulnerability is okay to be held in those cerulean eyes.

They share another silent stare, saying everything yet nothing at all, but most importantly they share betwixt each other that everything is okay. They are equal, and there is no need for fear or trepidation any more. The moment, brief but residual, is broken by the dying flicker of the light-post, no longer needed as the sun touches everything softly. The brunet looks around, suddenly very aware of the nearly realized dawn. Even the birds that had been subdued by the torrent have come out, singing their light little songs. He slowly begins to clamber off of Riku, realizing a little too late the awkward position they were in. He mutters sheepishly, "I guess we should go get cleaned up before people start coming out of the cabins…"

Riku recovers quickly from the loss of warmth, aware of the morning as well. He sits up quickly with a concise "hm" in agreement. They stand together, stupid grins plastered on their faces, stuck in their high.

Sora snickers, "Your entire back is covered in mud."

"Says the one whose pants are probably stained for life."

"It gives them character!"

And they escape from the soaked atmosphere and rising sun to the showers, feeling cleaner and lighter than the rain and sunlight could ever hope to compare.


(1)—Reference to the earlier scenes in KH where Riku reaches out for Sora's hand but they get washed away from each other.

(2)— A nearly direct quote from The Great Gatsby (with the exception of changing genders to pronouns and inserting Riku's name in there). "He was astounded" was also a direct quote. All credit to F. Scott Fitzgerald.


A/N: Hey everyone! So, originally chapters 17 and 18 were just one chapter but I separated them for easier reading. Hope it helps! Sometimes when chapters get too long I lose my place so I'm trying to avoid such conflict.

As always, thank you so much for reading! I love all of you, truly!

I would normally have more to say, but since I'm about to post chapter 18 with this one, I'll continue my usual monologue there. Happy fanficcing!

Hannahble