I do not own Kingdom Hearts
~…~
"What have you done?"
Keiya stood aghast amidst the rubble and grime that was her new home. Everything was on fire, and all the sand had turned to ash the instant she'd followed him down the ramp and touched the ground. Heartless were running amuck, in and out of the burning houses, and there was not another person in sight. The waters were black with the burnt remains of the islands. She struggled to speak, to defend herself against the devastated accusation, but found that she couldn't make a sound. The frosty but familiar voice behind her made her go weak at the knees and hit her harder than the destruction around her ever could. She'd upset him; he was unhappy with her. She just wanted to die.
"I-I don't… I haven't done anything… I'm so sorry…" she answered weakly, her voice just a hoarse whisper. She could sense the regret and anger steaming from her beau behind her, but even if she wanted to, she couldn't turn to face him; she was petrified in the cinders that seemed to suffocate the very island. A tree only a few yards away from her collapsed to the ground with a thundering crash, but she was too numb with shock and sorrow even to blink.
He dragged himself forward and walked right past her, not sparing her a glance. The weight of watching him take in the wasteland crushed her heart so brutally that she found the means to stumble backward and drop to the dusty ground. His home—his home that he loved so much, that he'd open-heartedly brought her to so that they could share a life together—was broken beyond all repair, and it was all her fault. Tears leaked from her eyes on their own accord, falling onto her trembling hands which were laced in the somber dirt. As he leaned down to pick up some of the black mess, her insides churned and plunged in sickening, unforgiving waves. He rose slowly, letting some of the ash fall back to the ground on the way up, and ran his fingers over what was left. His normally strong and statuesque form was slumped and overcome with grief. She found herself hoping he wouldn't turn around; she didn't think she could bear to see his pained face surely full of hate for her.
But he did turn around, and she could see right away that he thought himself foolish—foolish to have been lured and then betrayed by the person he'd been willing to go to great lengths to protect. She swallowed and gazed up at him through her messy bangs, her hands forming weak fists on the ground. His voice sliced through the air and splattered over her like a bath of searing water, rendering her so distressed that no surrounding roaring flames or falling trees could break her trance.
"I shouldn't have brought you here."
~…~
Sai took a deep breath as his body became engulfed in the darkness, a twisted smile on his face and all sorts of hopes in his head. He stretched his fingertips to the ground and stood straight and tall, reinvigorated with a new energy and power of which he'd only dreamed. His heart felt strong, untouchable, and supreme. He was just like her now.
When the green glow around him subsided, Maleficent nodded and dismissed him. She was pleased, overall, with the turn-out of her second apprentice—an afterthought, but an unexpectedly important investment. He'd be useful in a few years for a new plot of hers that her defiant first pupil was proving incapable of handling herself. Besides, a boy was stronger in hand-to-hand combat. Even if he was hopeless in strategy and magic, he made up for it in physical strength and his naïve determination. He could be her go-between—maybe her recruiter. In time he'd acquire a better sense of judgment and a more mature disposition. He'd have to learn to keep a respectable distance between himself and his inferiors, and he'd need to remold his attitude so as to be beyond reproach in their eyes. But this one, at least, wouldn't wander off and spoil her plans.
Sai bit his lip to hide his obvious excitement at this triumph: his mistress's acceptance and gift of power, and hopefully his comrade's approval for which he'd fought to earn so zealously over the years. He was powerful now; she wouldn't think of him as the new kid anymore. There would be no gap to uphold, no extreme differences in rank... Soon enough, he was sure, he'd be her equal. He took forced-casual steps toward the stone door exit, but as soon as it slammed shut behind him he released his enthusiasm in a mad-dash up the nearest staircase to the library, where he was sure he'd find Keiya.
The second he saw her, he exploded into a wide, prideful grin. He strode over to her with his hands tucked in his pockets, his blood rushing on an adrenaline-high. He couldn't wait to tell her; finally, he was a full-fledged, undeniable apprentice with capabilities and privileges to die for. He could walk these halls with confidence and talk to the lower ranking men with authority. He had the ability to crush anyone without so much as breaking a sweat. The heartless posed no threat to him anymore; they were his personal army. No one could dare call him an immature fool now.
"Keiya!" he called vivaciously as he caught sight of her at a bookshelf. She turned around quickly, curious at his exceptionally bright tone. But she realized right away what dreadful news he bore as he approached her. She felt her heart sink and her stomach drop. He reeked of darkness.
"Look," he exclaimed, carelessly conjuring up a concentration of dark magic in his right hand to demonstrate his power. Her eyes widened in half-disbelief, half-disgust, and she waved the pitch-black cloud away as it began to grow beyond his control. He didn't seem fazed by his utter lack of experience.
"Isn't this great? I finally have the power I've always wanted. Now we can work as a team!"
She watched him apprehensively and groped for something to say. She hadn't seen this coming; Maleficent had said nothing about it to her—rightly so, since she'd have tried to warn him and talk him out of agreeing had she known. He was so gullible; he had, without a second thought, let Maleficent strip him of his innocence and fuse his very flesh with her darkness. How could he expect her to be pleased? He'd been transformed into something too dark to be human.
Sai's smile faded a bit at her reluctance to answer. "What's wrong? You don't seem… happy," he observed, a bit peeved that she wasn't following the script he'd planned out in his head. Why should she look so glum? Everything he wanted had worked out; he'd won his permanent place here. He thought she'd be glad for him—maybe even impressed. But she had that old, familiar look of disappointment on her face.
"Happy?" she asked, dumbfounded. "Why should I be happy?"
"I don't know," he said coldly. "Maybe because I've wanted this my whole life? I thought you'd be a little more supportive."
She scoffed internally, trying to bite back the sense of guilt washing over her. She thought she should have tried to warn him when he was still little—warn him to leave and not take it this far. But she never thought this would happen so soon. He was only fifteen—her age, but still just a boy in her eyes. Clearly, Maleficent didn't think the same. He was nowhere near ready to handle so much strength and responsibility. How could Maleficent force this disastrous, life-altering power surge onto him? Surely she could see how unstable he was to begin with? With his angry nature, harsh background, and their mistress's brainwashing, his thoughts on right and wrong were smudged. This "promotion" would distort his perception of the world even more. He'd always been a corrupt soul with vengeful and twisted ambitions; but now with these capabilities he'd been bestowed, he'd become—unbelievably—a threat.
"You shouldn't have… you shouldn't have let her do that," she stated, making him even more annoyed and shot down. She saw the gleam of joy leave his eyes, but continued, "Don't you see what she's done? She's changed you just so you can do more work for her! You're different now." She couldn't bring herself to say "a monster".
"I'm powerful, that's all," he responded matter-of-factly.
"You can't ever go back to how you were…"
He groaned and paced to the other side of the bookshelf. "Why should I want to go back? You know how much this means to me. Why can't you stop being so depressing for just one second?" Ugh, I don't understand her. She's got this power, too. She's had it since before I met her. Why does she still treat me like I don't know any better? It pisses me off!
Truth be told, Sai had been incredibly nervous the past few months. Maleficent had taken another child under her wing to work with her and the council. He wasn't an apprentice, but the thought of there being another kid their age—another boy—in the castle made him possessive over his title and his female comrade. Keiya told him once that he'd become more competitive since the new kid showed up, and he didn't see why he shouldn't be. His place was being threatened by some guy who had appeared in front of their castle out of thin air. She didn't have to worry;she'd lived here forever and her place was guaranteed. But he'd still felt like he had to prove himself and live up to their mistress's high expectations.
That was why when Maleficent had pulled him aside earlier and granted him this gift—this amazing, marvelous position and power—he'd felt ecstatic and finally at ease. She'd chosen him after all; he was better than the new boy. He'd won. But now Keiya was dampening that mood.
"You think that this makes you special?" she reprimanded sourly, knowing very well that he would be mad at her. "It's disgusting—don't you see what happens? It takes over your entire body. I know you can feel it, Sai."
He rolled his eyes and pretended to tune her out by browsing the book titles.
"Can't you, in your blood?" she pressed.
He didn't think her words had any weight. He felt fine—more than fine. He felt dangerous and on top of the world. She always had been vehemently against fighting and using her dark abilities. She'd always struggled and fought as the darkness tried to spread throughout her body. But he welcomed the rush of malicious strength with open arms.
She resentfully shoved a book into its place on the shelf and let it slam into the wooden backboard. "Ugh, I would give it all back if I could!" she muttered impatiently, fed up with his hardheadedness. There was no point in trying to explain herself, she knew. He couldn't understand, nor did he care to.
"Well, that's you. I don't want to be weak," he said simply.
She eyed him with an apparent frown on her face, her own stubborn nature preventing her from letting this terrible tragedy go un-lectured. He was so blind with satisfaction for this "achievement" of his that he refused to hear or acknowledge its flaws. Maleficent certainly wouldn't have fully explained the side-effects of such great ability; she wanted another apprentice-slave to do her dirty work. She'd gotten Keiya tied up in the offer of a home while she was still too young to realize the cost. Now she'd gotten Sai hooked on the irresistible prospect of commanding and controlling—the two things she knew he'd lusted for so desperately all these years.
When she saw Sai clench his fist against the bookshelf, trying to hold back whatever was ready to burst out of his mouth, she couldn't help but speak her mind again. "This darkness will make you feel stronger, but in the long run it's really going to make you weaker," she stressed. He let out an exasperated sigh and angrily marched down the aisle to escape her.
"What, you don't believe me? Or do you just not want to hear it?" she asked flatly. She trailed behind him, her arms crossed stiffly.
"You're crazy! That might be true for you, because you fight back so much, but none of that will happen to me."
"Don't be so overconfident! You're a host now, don't you see? That… that parasite that she gave you is going to be consuming you your whole life, whether or not you realize it!"
"You're just making that up," he doubted, waving it away.
She stood taken aback for a moment, her brain stumbling to process the ignorant, childishly inflexible words. There was a lack of trust in his voice that stung her deep and bothered her relentlessly. "Why would I lie to you?" she pointed out. "I'm trying to help you."
"I don't need help." He gripped the edge of a bookshelf as he neared the end of the row, seemingly trying to snap the wood in half. "Look, I came here because I thought you'd be happy for me—for us. Not so you could ridicule me…" he said sulkily, a bit dampened that he hadn't gotten the praise from her he'd been expecting.
She suppressed any hint of guilt or hurt from betraying her steadfast visage. "Well, I'm sorry if I can't sit still and watch you destroy yourself."
"Ugh, Can't you just wake up? What you're doing is really stupid and it's delaying everything! God, it's so annoying! You're always sick, always frail—what makes you think I want to be that way, too? I'd rather stay strong," he asserted, his lips twisting into a snide scowl.
There was a period of uncomfortable silence before Keiya shuffled over to a nearby table, backing down for the moment. Neither one looked at the other; Sai kept his gaze steadily fixated on a far wall while she stared down at the red wood desk. Her mind swirled with the openly disparaging accusations. He just didn't get it; his mind had been molded far too thoroughly for any outside influences to penetrate. She could sense he was rougher, more determined… much more interested in status and power. It was like he'd put on a mask, and suddenly that unruly little boy with an innocent short-temper was taken over by this fiendish stranger with an appetite for any sort of strength he could get his hands on.
She saw him hesitate out of the corner of her eye—internally debating over something—and then start off to another aisle, toward the exit. When he was gone, she pulled a chair out and sank down onto the hard surface. Even though he was "stronger" than ever, she felt that she'd lost her only company in this castle. He no longer listened to what she had to say; his words—which had always been harsh yet still tinted with concern—were not simple and inquisitive anymore, but impatient and demanding. Now he was on Maleficent's side, and she was completely alone.
~…~
Keiya stood in the hallway outside Riku's door contemplating her predicament. Her hand formed a weak fist, slightly raised in willingness to knock, but every dreadful ounce of common sense in her head was holding her back from doing so. It was late at night—two in the morning—so he was sure to be asleep, and she didn't want to wake him. After all, they rarely got sufficient sleep to begin with, and he'd just left her for the day a couple hours ago.
But she wanted to see him so desperately. It was quite strange, really; she'd woken up from another bad dream—the third in as many nights—and this time had gotten the insuppressible urge to hear his voice. She wanted to know that he wasn't mad at her, to hear the kindness in his voice that she found so soothing. Everything had seemed hauntingly real this time around—the hot air of intensity around him, the disappointment in his voice, the absolute regret burning in his eyes… The way he'd looked at her had just killed her. She'd woken up feeling extraordinarily at fault to the point where she'd been overcome with the need to go and apologize to him, even though in reality she'd done nothing wrong.
Although she'd gotten over the bizarre guilt for the most part, she still wanted to talk to him. The problem was that it was so late at night and she felt extremely uncomfortable knocking on his door, just expecting him to be awake and invite her in. And she didn't want to worry him—she knew he'd be expecting the worst, what with her coming to him still in her nightdress without so much as a sweater pulled over, and shaken up by a silly, nonsensical nightmare like a child. (Really, how could the sand have turned to ash the second she'd stepped foot off the ship, just like that? Obviously she was dwelling over this ordeal far too much if it was starting to invade her sleep with ridiculous occurrences. She called herself foolish for letting the paranoia eat her up.)
Just knock… she told herself. You've been standing here for almost half an hour… He won't mind… he won't mind…
She held her breath and forced her hand to make three soft raps on his door, then shakily allowed herself to lean against the wall while she waited and prayed that he hadn't heard and that she hadn't bothered him. About twenty seconds later she heard sheets shuffle inside, and her heart gave a lurch. Oh God, what do I say to him? He's going to think I'm annoying for waking him up in the middle of the night like this… Ugh, what a bad idea…
She stayed completely still and listened to the clumsy thuds on the wooden floor as he stumbled out of bed. She stared anxiously at the bronze knob as the footsteps neared the door second by second, and tried not to allow herself the luxury of slipping back into her room before he could find her here.
Finally, after the most nerve-wracking ten seconds of her life, the door was pushed open to reveal a very drowsy Riku clad in only a pair of gray sweatpants. His hair was all disheveled from sleep, and he had to squint to see past the hallway's blinding light. Keiya immediately felt her whole body heat up in embarrassment. Here he was—clearly just yanked out of a deep sleep, still in his pajamas that did not include a shirt—certain to ask her what the matter was (while nothing was the matter to begin with! Idiot… was all she could think,) while she had no answer. She'd never felt so stupid before. She shouldn't have been loitering in front of his door like that; he had every right to be cranky if he wanted and to tell her off for disrupting the very scarce time set aside for sleep. She hoped he would be too tired to register anything so they could both go back to their rooms and forget this ever happened.
"Keiya? What's wrong?" he asked groggily, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes from the burning light. "Did… did something happen?" His words slurred a bit, but she could still hear the unmistakable concern in his voice. Part of her wished something was wrong so that she wouldn't have come here for nothing.
"Um, no. Everything's fine…" she answered weakly, her hands clasped in front of her.
She tried to keep her eyes locked on his face to avoid staring at his bare, lean chest rippling with just the right amount of muscle. Luckily for her, he was too preoccupied squinting to notice her eyes shyly sweep across his form. His strong, protective arms also were completely exposed for her to see; and one of them was stretched up a little gripping the door, displaying each crease and shadow of his toned skin in perfect light. Every nerve in her body was now egging her forward—longing to feel the cozy heat of his body; begging to trace along the defined contours of his abs; pining to hold him around the waist, rest her head in his chest, and feel his body fit with hers. She was seriously breathless beyond help.
"Want to come in?" he offered, fighting back a yawn. She nodded and reluctantly stepped inside the dark room as he held the door open for her. She immediately felt as though she'd been transported to another little dimension. His room had the familiar, comforting haze of sleep soaked into it. Between the light from the hallway and the weak moonlight leaking in through the window, she could make out that the covers had been hastily turned over, and that he'd tossed some clothes around from a neat pile on the dresser before he'd answered the door.
Riku, starting to wake up a bit, closed the door and motioned for her to sit on the bed. She did so hesitantly and very timidly, taking a seat at the edge of the end of the mattress where the sheets were undisturbed. He opened the window shades to let in more of the natural light, and then kicked some unseen clothes under the bed before joining her.
"So, what's up?" he asked, lazily plopping down next to her. He stretched a little to wake himself up. "Is it alright if we leave the lights off?"
"Of course. I'm sorry for coming so late… I-I can leave, if you want. I just wanted to talk to you before…" she confessed, enticed by the softness of the blankets and the warmth radiating off him—just a mere foot away.
"What about?" he asked. He crawled across the bed and sat next to her against the foot-board, then touched her arm and made her turn and draw her legs up so she could sit beside him. She relaxed as much as she could and knelt comfortably enough on the deep blue outer-blanket. He was so good to her; she felt like the luckiest girl in the world around him. Anyone else, she thought, would probably be ticked off at such a visit.
"It was stupid… Just a bad dream…" she said vaguely.
Riku wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in to rest against him. She let him fix her against his chest, the excitement from before resurfacing wildly. She couldn't help thinking that he smelled really good; she could tell that he'd showered that night after spending another day in the sweltering sun. He smelled like… sea breeze shampoo and coconut soap. How appropriate. She kept her hands firmly in her lap so they wouldn't wander or cling to him.
"Another one?" he asked curiously. He shifted a little bit so he was turned toward her and brought a hand up to her shoulder. She just nodded, and when he placed his hands on her arms, let her head droop forward so that her forehead was leaning against him. God, she loved the scent and feeling of his skin. She had no idea what had possessed her not to mind the fact that he hadn't gone in search of a shirt, but she hoped he wouldn't suddenly think to do so.
"It's no big deal, but… I don't know," she explained weakly, unable to recall much of the fear that had been instilled within her now that Riku was dissolving it all away. "It just bothered me—that's all." She buried her face in the crook of his neck so he wouldn't see her blushing, but only blushed deeper when she realized how close she'd absentmindedly brought herself to him.
He wrapped his arms fully around her. "You mentioned something about a nightmare the other day, too. I think you're getting too worked up over everything. Just relax, okay? There's nothing to stress over…" he said comfortingly, running his hands up and down her back. She shivered as his touch traveled down her spine, as his rousing breath weaved into her hair.
"You're right," she replied, melting in his embrace. She sunk her head down from his neck to his chest and took to listening to his heartbeat, purposefully bringing her hands to his torso to feel his heart speed up. "I know you're right, but… I just can't relax."
A brief silence commenced, during which she shyly dared to let her fingers climb from his stomach to his shoulders, trailing along the valleys that separated the toned muscles of his abdomen, ghosting up his torso until she reached the base of his neck, where she let her hands settle. The darkness of the room somehow made it feel as though there was nothing wrong with such an embarrassing imposition that would normally seem forbidden and almost unthinkable.
Riku's whole body burned up with a wild fever. He subconsciously held her tighter to keep his hands from trembling, but couldn't restrain a small shudder when her lips accidentally brushed the area right over his heart, at her exhalations against the bare skin that covered his rapidly beating pulse.
"You know…" he started, with a hint of tremor in his voice brought on by her simple, unknowing torments. "Destiny Islands is the perfect place for relaxing…"
"Oh, is it?" she feigned ignorance, humoring him.
"Uh-huh..."
When she felt how sharp his heart jolted when her mouth had touched his skin, she tilted her head up a bit and let her lips wander to the base of his neck, kissing only every once in a while. She wasn't quite sure why she was letting herself act so impassioned all of a sudden; it was the partly the atmosphere, no doubt. She just felt so grateful to be with him and so happy that she was in love with him, she thought her own heart might overflow. She kept one hand firmly on his chest to enjoy the rhythm of his racing heartbeat, to savor the comfort of his presence.
"We have beaches, palm trees, the blue ocean…" he continued distractedly, sacrificing one hand from her waist to entangle with her hair. She innocently let her lips climb higher and graze his jaw line below his ear. Giving in to the strange, wistful desire that was nagging at her relentlessly, she encircled her arms around his neck and inevitably fit herself against him. He eagerly complied and slipped his arms around her lower waist, discreetly pulling her into his lap so they weren't sitting so awkward. She gasped initially, but loosened up at the new-found comfort and smiled sheepishly.
He teased her with a soft, quick kiss, nipping at her lips just barely before withdrawing. She immediately pulled him back down to claim a much longer lip-lock, her inhibitions clouded by feelings of romance and the heated contact of their bodies raging with unstoppable demands.
He panted to catch his breath while kissing her forehead. "You wouldn't have to worry over there… It would be just us…" Gently, he took her face in both hands and leaned in to kiss first each of her closed eyelids, then skimmed down to her cheek, and finally ended with a small brush against her lips. "And…" He paused for another brief peck. "We can be there in just sixteen days," he whispered persuasively, struggling to keep his mind focused.
"That sounds… nice…" she said honestly, reaching up to push his silver, messy bangs out of his eyes. She grappled for words and tried not to let go of the peaceful spirit in which they were caught up. "But…"
"But what?" he murmured coaxingly, taking hold of her hand and interlacing their fingers. He kissed the back of her palm, looking her directly in the eye, and then let his hand trail along her pale, smooth arm to fall on her shoulder. He couldn't restrain himself from wanting to touch her; her skin was always softer than he'd remember it, and it entranced him.
"But I'm not sure that my boyfriend would approve…" she replied jokingly, wearing a bright grin.
Riku smirked in amusement and raised an eyebrow. "Your boyfriend? And what's he like?" he asked curiously, his hand wandering slowly down her side to her waist.
Her smile turned teasing. "He's stubborn," she mock complained, twisting her fingers around a strand of silver hair. "Kind of arrogant, too… He's the jealous type."
"I'm sure he's not that bad," he defended.
"Oh, he can be a real brat when he's not being charming."
His smirk brightened up. "So he is charming?"
"Unbelievably," she said breathlessly, playing along. She couldn't stifle a laugh at how ridiculous they sounded.
He couldn't help but blush at the playful chime of her laughter, at the seductive act she was putting on; the way she continuously twirled her fingers around his hair drove him crazy with heat. "Well, would you like me to talk to him for you?" he flirted back, lowering his head to hers again to cover her in more kisses.
"I don't think that's such a good idea… He's very overprotective," she managed, hazed by his sweet breath washing over her. He claimed her lips in a lingering kiss, forgetting completely how they even started this game. All he could comprehend now was the part of her lips under his control and the almost inaudible whimper he drew from her when he pulled away for air.
Keiya let him pull her back into a hug, and sighed in relief when he didn't say anything more. Things flowed much easier now as far as their island-debate went. She'd become used to avoiding it without completely diving into an all out argument as they had in the past.
"Hey, Keiya? I know we got kind of off-topic before, but… Did you want to talk about that dream you had?"
"Hmm? No, of course not," she said lightheartedly, making herself comfortable against him as she started feeling drowsy again.
He looked at her warily. "Are you sure? Because you looked really bothered before," he stated. "You know you can tell me if something's bothering you, right?"
"I know." She lifted her head to meet his worried gaze and gave him her best reassuring smile. "It was nothing; I just got caught up in the moment, I guess. Don't worry."
Riku nodded his 'okay', still a little apprehensive, since he knew that for her to come waking him up in the middle of the night, something must have really troubled her. But he let it go, not wanting her to start remembering whatever had infiltrated her dreams. He stroked her hair back soothingly and let her return to the crook of his neck, where in no time she began to doze off.
~…~
She's going to get yelled at today. I'm calling it, Sai thought, observing his mistress's glare of abhorrence directed towards her first apprentice. While not exactly failing in her training, Keiya was certainly more worn out than she should be. Her hair stuck to the side of her face wet with perspiration, and her movements were debilitated as if she'd just risen from bed a moment ago. He had barely broken a sweat yet—after all, they'd just started an hour and a half ago. If she couldn't last this long in practice combat, what was she to do on the scene?
Maleficent was eying her suspiciously, focusing on the girl's clumsy footwork and nonexistent stealth in wrestling a rather large behemoth-like heartless; she even cringed at a stumble her foolish pupil made in a dodge, (at which point Sai held his breath that she would succeed overall and not sink herself into trouble). Sai already knew their boss's assumptions were correct. It was just one of those unusual times when Keiya had determined not to run away, but still put up that infamous, steadfast, insubordinate battle that enraged Maleficent beyond what was safe.
Maleficent called her back over and allowed her a five-second-breather while she explained to them their next activity. As uncomfortable as his situation should be, Sai was so used to it by now that it hardly fazed him. In fact, put side-by-side with his comrade, who was in such a defiant and feeble state, he actually appeared better. He was standing tall—something he'd been constantly lectured to do when he was younger—while she was slouched in dreariness, probably lightheaded and all sorts of other inconvenient maladies.
After about ten minutes or so of one-on-one training (Sai took it easy on her out of pity,) Maleficent finally lost her patience. She slammed her staff on the floor in momentary frustration, but quickly straightened herself up, recovered her composure, and waved away the few straggling heartless they'd been using for practice. She approached Keiya crossly and snatched her wrist up, not caring that her long fingernails would certainly scrape the girl's skin. She pulled her a few steps toward the subtle light of the stain-glass windows and judged the shade of the brand she'd left on her apprentice's skin for precisely this purpose.
Sai watched his friend's face stay blank so as not to betray the unwavering persona she was striving to maintain. The worst thing she could do for herself now, he knew, would be to look afraid.
In one strike she was on the floor, still fumbling for balance. Sai tried to keep his gaze forward, but as usual he couldn't avert his eyes to the disquieting scene only beginning to play out a couple yards away from him. Maleficent never dismissed him from the room while she threatened and force-fed Keiya with her darkness; in this way, she was killing two birds with one stone. He would need no personal warnings or beatings—watching what the prized asset of the team went through for such intolerable nonsense was warning enough for him. He wouldn't even dream of stepping out of line to the extent she did.
Before any more slaps could be delivered, a few loud knocks were heard coming from the stone door entrance behind them. The whole room fell silent as the three of them waited for something more to happen. Sai's eyes flickered between his mistress and his comrade, both of whom were frozen in the moment. Keiya was still sitting sloppily on the floor where she'd fallen, one hand up in automatic defense for any further blows, while Maleficent tensed in anger as she tried to find a presentable attitude with which to greet whoever had disturbed her.
After another series of careless knocks that echoed off the high ceiling, Maleficent gracefully turned on her heel and strode toward the door, which she opened without any effort thanks to the magic she could conjure up for such simplistic activities. One of her henchmen stood on the other side, clearly worried and carrying bad news.
"What is it? Haven't I told you never to bother me while I'm in here?" she muttered impatiently under her breath.
"Maleficent… there's been a problem. We need you downstairs immediately," he relayed urgently, unable to keep his gaze from wandering to the two teenagers behind her. His eyes widened a bit, but he managed to keep his face convincing and oblivious to anything he might have intruded upon. It was too late for him, though. From the moment those ornate stone slabs had parted to her private training room on the off-limits floor of the castle, she'd placed him on her mental list for one of her students to take care of later. She couldn't have anyone blabbing about what they saw her plotting behind closed doors.
With an agitated frown, she lamented, "Oh, very well," and looked over her shoulder to Sai. He swallowed when he realized she was looking directly at him, and tried to ignore the strange looks they were receiving from the man he knew would be dead within twelve hours. Keiya had lowered her head in a meek attempt to hide from the foreign stare, but she, too, knew that nothing could save him now.
In a low voice and an almost casual, nonchalant manner, Maleficent briefly ordered him, "Finish this," then exited the room and left the two of them to themselves.
The doors closed again with a piercing crash and the room returned to shadow. Sai found himself nodding in delay, his body now wracked with unnatural nerves. She wanted him to 'finish this'—finish this dirty, malicious work that she so freely performed as punishment—as if he did so every day, as if it would be nothing to him.
He looked back at Keiya, who was now facing him fearfully and quizzically. She was holding her somewhat bloody wrist that Maleficent had punctured with her nails and trying in vain to clean it off on her skirt. She couldn't hide the fact that she was just as confused as he; in fact, she was much more so. She thought that this command might even have been discussed prior by her mistress and her new patriotic laborer, and that she had been kept in the dark because of her wavering loyalty. It wouldn't surprise her, but the thought of her naïve childhood cohort turning sour to the core in obeying the witch made her feel so much more disconnected than she'd thought she was. She wasn't even sure, what with his new promotion and powers, if he'd have the sense to hesitate to follow through, or if he'd been so corrupted that none of her pain would register in his head.
Sai was lost in disbelief, but nevertheless clenched his fist to try and remind himself of the strength he needed to conjure up, of the task he'd been assigned to complete without fail. He didn't really know how to begin; he knew her so well, so it felt odd just to thrust upon her the gloomy darkness that would hurt her till she accepted it. He approached her cautiously when she let her attention fall to the blood dripping from her arm, his own nervousness and sense of judgment beseeching him not to go on with the madness he'd been commanded to allow ensue.
But a very small, overwhelming part of him was so flattered at the amount of trust Maleficent had placed in him—so thrilled with the responsibility he'd been bestowed—that he found the means to twist the situation into a much less unsettling one.
This is for her well-being… After all, she can't possibly live here without conforming to the darkness—Maleficent has warned her dozens of times. And I'm just following orders, he told himself, stepping onward, unsure, but blind with satisfaction with this turn of events. She can't blame me; she knows the rules. She'll be put through this anyway—what difference should it make whether I do it or Maleficent does? It's not like I have a choice, anyway. I have to follow these orders. And she deserves it… doesn't she?
Keiya gave up on the small cut with which she'd anxiously tried to distract herself in the hopes that Sai would back away, seeing her ignore him. But that really only fueled the flame of vengeance more. She knew he was still annoyed that she couldn't agree with him about the integrity of his higher status; she knew he might be bitter enough to want to exercise the power now at his disposal and demonstrate his point. Nevertheless, in spite of his anger, she hoped that buried deep inside him he still had a heart that could distinguish right from wrong.
But when she glanced up at him, the complicated look of curiosity on his face dictated to her otherwise. She could practically see the strangeness of the thoughts swirling in his eyes. She swallowed nervously and quickly looked back down to pretend she hadn't noticed. Discreetly, she shifted her legs the slightest bit to determine how fast she'd be able to stand. One of them was twisted from the hard fall; if she did stand up, it wouldn't be quick enough to get away. Having to escape from Sai in the first place struck her as abstract and—with his tendency toward fairness via revenge— as frightening as a nightmare.
He stood next to her, looking down on her. He was completely intrigued with this mystery of dominating power he was about to hold over her, and was entirely filled with a swirl of conflicting emotions—he was eager and scared, power-hungry and anxious, ambitious and guilty. He was admittedly taken by the prospect of proving himself to both his mistress and Keiya, whom he felt tended to underestimate him. She still hadn't given him the approval he'd wanted a few weeks ago, and hadn't spoken to him civilly since; now, whether she liked it or not (and most likely not), she'd have to bend to his will.
He walked a semi-circle around her so that he was directly in front of her—just a few feet away.
"Sai…?" she started apprehensively, looking up at him again when she saw him position himself before her. She couldn't keep her voice from cracking. Then, unimaginably, he outstretched an arm toward her in preparation to attack. She was overcome with a sense of dread that drained her of any remaining hope. His hands were trembling, but only she noticed it.
He wasn't sure if he should say anything or allow her anymore pity, but he managed to spit out one explanation: "You heard her."
Before either he could hesitate with another thought or she could take in another breath, he shot forth the first blast of leeching, evil magic that would create an ocean's width of a rift between them which no morsel of understanding would ever penetrate. She was captured in the depth of the attack immediately; it cut her off from any sound or sight beyond its thick, smoky outskirts. Everything else melted away as it burned her eyes and starved her lungs.
Sai froze at the terror he was bringing upon her; and for a moment he was a boy of eleven again seeing her suffer for the first of many times, fearing for himself, wondering what she'd done wrong. Her cut-off cries were the same no matter how he tried to distort them to his ear, and the sheet-white blankness of her face as she suffocated was even more chilling than he remembered. But he would no longer call it "torture"—definitely not. It was a punishment—something entirely different—and she most certainly had earned it.
Before he could dwell on it any longer, the second wave of ice-cold blackness was released in her direction, and he was only barely conscious of willing the attack. His body worked detached from his slow-moving mind; it worked from instinct after having seen the ritual performed so frequently over the years. He suppressed his shock and focused on watching the vicious pattern unfold again so that he could follow up with a third bombardment. He was surprised at how simple the process was—how easy it was to command. He didn't have to do a thing; there was no hard labor on his part. He willed it, exerted the force necessary, and the reliant darkness worked its magic on its own.
It took only those two blows to re-fuse her to the parasitical witchcraft and to snap Sai out of his astonished trance. Right away she toppled over, gasped for air, and clutched her searing throat. She felt even more sick than usual—disgusted not only with the feeling of the darkness spreading through her blood, but also with the feeling that it was an end of an era; that there was no one she could trust and no one who would look out for her.
Sai reluctantly lowered his arm when he realized the job was over and found himself standing in the awkward company of someone whom he'd just terribly hurt. He couldn't stand the sense of lingering betrayal in the air—he'd just done his job, end of story, and yet he still felt heavy-hearted. The guilt and tenderness arising in place of that powerful sensation he'd just come out of pissed him off, and he stubbornly ignored his victim's heart-wrenching recovery. There should be no room for charity here, he knew.
Without so much as a word, he started toward the door. He thought better of it at the last minute, though, and calmly opened a portal to use instead. He caught Keiya's eye just once before he forced his attention elsewhere, all the pent-up rage, guilt, disappointment, confusion, compassion, and affection battling fiercely behind his lids.
Keiya folded her arms to her chest, her body starting to settle back under the influence of the possessive darkness that loomed over her like a ghost. The whole situation troubled her immensely. She hadn't thought he could ever do something like this—something so painful and sickening that he'd personally seen her suffer through over the years. He used to visit her afterward, used to try to make her feel better! He'd completely abandoned the rough-and-ragged-but-sweet nature with which he had come to the castle, and had traded it in for an obsessive drive with more concern for vengeance, strength, and "orders" than for the safety of his only companion.
And still, part of her was stuck on the possibility that she had made him this way—that she had destroyed her only friend. By distancing herself from him, she thought, she'd influenced him to distance himself from his conscience, to separate his work from his better judgment. She hopelessly threw some of the blame on Maleficent to keep from collapsing into sorrow at the loss she felt she'd helped to bring about. Maleficent, after all, had corrupted him physically with her darkness, had let the power go to his head—that much was true. She just wished she'd had the courage and the sense to warn him sooner; she accepted that her fault lay there. Maybe then, he wouldn't be so dangerously impatient and wickedly vengeful. Maybe then, he would have escaped, and she'd have saved him from such a meaningless life of fighting.
But whether more of the fault lay with her or their mistress, she couldn't get over the gleam of excitement that had been shyly growing in his eyes as he'd prepared himself for the process. That she'd hated without exception. She could never forgive him for that sick hunger for dominance—she hadn't realized just how desperate he was. She refused to take the blame for that. Something in him had snapped; something had happened to the old Sai, and almost without her noticing he'd been transformed into a monster.
It occurred to him as he saw her sitting there so weak that she probably needed help standing. He'd always offered to help her up in training even though she usually refused such a gesture. Seeing her hurt caused something in him to long to show her a little bit of kindness, but he swallowed back the urge and forced himself to crush that feeling right away. For him to help her now would be to revert back to his simplistic childlike aura. He could be kind to her later, when this punishment was officially over. She had been unfair to him the other day, he reminded himself, and had spoiled the rewarding outcome of a life-time's worth of hard work and patience. He wasn't obligated to be kind to her in any way. Besides, Maleficent never helped her afterward, and she probably wouldn't want him to do so either. He thought he should make sure that this mission was accomplished completely and accurately.
He held back from glancing over at her again and dismissed himself from the room, leaving her on floor to mourn over the crumbled semi-friendship, the value and importance of which neither of them had really understood.
~…~
"I shouldn't have brought you here."
If killing herself would have fixed the whole situation, she'd have done so right then. The way he was looking at her made her want to throw herself into the black ocean and drown there. She'd surrendered any sense of pride long ago; with him in front of her, so broken, none of that existed for her anymore.
Riku dropped the ashes back to the ground, which, just as the dashes of gray powder rejoined their fellow carriers of despair, melted into a sea of pitch black ink. She blinked her eyes only once, and suddenly the whole scene—sky, filthy sea, and dust-ridden shore—faded into black around them; she could see nothing but him and the darkness that had consumed his beloved islands.
He approached her dismally, step by crestfallen step, until he was standing right next to her. She was still sitting meekly on what had been the ground, hopelessly choking on the shame and remorse that ran thick through her blood.
"I thought we could be happy here…" he murmured, glaring sadly down at her bowed head. She crossed her arms against the chill arising in the bleak empty space. "I thought you were on our side."
"I am!" she blurted out. "I-I didn't do this… I—"
"No, don't bother…" he interrupted monotonously, fatally crushed. His voiced seemed to drift above her, as if it longed to float out to the nonexistent sea.
She tried again in vain to win back his smile, and so she swallowed back the swell of cries threatening to break from her throat. "Riku, I promise you… i-it was something else!" she exclaimed in a cracking voice. She dared to look up to face him, summoning up all her bravery to do so, but found that he was focused blankly on the vacant space that had once housed his home. She continued to try and get his acknowledgment, "You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you or your friends—you know me."
"Do I?" was his immediate answer. He let his eyes slowly wander toward her, and faced her with the look not of a gentle, magnanimous suitor or a stern and jealous courtier, but of an enraged, betrayed lover forcibly restraining his anger from escaping into the open. "I loved you… I thought you felt the same…" he confessed, his voice filled with venom and self-pity.
"Keiya?" a voice came from a distance, but she couldn't think to pay it any mind.
"I do love you—Riku! I'm telling you, I didn't want this to happen!" she pleaded earnestly, trying to mend everything back to the way it was.
"But you were working for her all along, weren't you?" he said bitterly.
"N-no, I swear! If you'd just listen…"
"You were just using me, weren't you?"
"C'mon, Keiya—it's time to wake up."
"This whole time…"
She finally gave into the terrible heartbreak nagging her for attention and released the sobs that were caught in her throat. She covered her face with her hands and sank lower to the ground. "I'm just so sorry…"
The soothing voice came again, "Are you… crying? W-why are you crying? Hey, can you hear me?"
"Everything's over now… I guess you can just go back, then… That's what you wanted in the first place, isn't it?" he spat, his every movement heavy with sorrow.
She clutched her head in anguish as his words beat down on her spitefully. She felt the black void spin around her as his voice echoed in her ears and etched into her skin.
"I should have listened to the others…"
"What's wrong, love? What's bothering you?"
She looked up dizzily as the darkness managed to blur and sway around her, but only to see him watching her with those hateful eyes: eyes that couldn't bear to destroy her, and so would instead let her live and suffer through the maddening guilt.
"I shouldn't have brought you here."
"Keiya, can you hear me? You need to wake up."
Her eyes snapped open to see Riku hovering above her, one of his hands caressing the side of her tear-stained face. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, feeling such a lump in her throat that she knew she must have really been crying. All she could do was flush in embarrassment.
Riku just watched her, worried, as she tried to get a grasp on things. He was sitting beside her, already showered and dressed, and she was beneath the covers of his bed. When she put everything together, she realized he must have tucked her in and that she must have fallen asleep with him last night. Apparently, it was late, since she could hear cicadas humming outside, and the hallways had that afternoon laziness about them that she could just sense beyond the door.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Riku offered seriously, referring to the nightmare she'd just woken from in tears. She kept wiping her eyes, well aware of the redness of her cheeks, and shook her head. How could she tell him what she'd just dreamed of again? That she'd dreamed of him flat-out rejecting her? That she'd dreamed of destroying his islands? He wouldn't love her…
Riku sighed and nodded, then gave her hand a squeeze before exiting the room and leaving her to herself. He didn't want to stress her out more than she already was, but he'd definitely confront her later. He felt awful that the miserable situation they were stuck in was starting to deprive her of sleep now, too. It took enough effort as it was for her to enjoy herself during the day.
Okay… That was bad… Oh my God, I hate this… she rambled to herself internally. She drew her legs in and huddled against the headboard to get things straight. It was strange to wake up in his room with him waiting for her, so mercifully. He'd been so disappointed in her just a few minutes ago… At least, he was in her dream, she reminded herself. She felt bad sending him out of his own room, but she needed time to sort out her feelings—to separate the nightmare from the reality—before she could talk to him again.
~…~
Author's Note: I hope that the last segment wasn't too confusing. Let me know if the italics cleared anything up at all, because if you can't understand who's speaking when, I'll try to fix it with something else.
So, I've been thinking of writing a one-shot companion to this fanfiction—a "what-if" scenario that won't be part of this story's time-line or plot—about a hypothetical mission that Riku and Keiya would have gone on, had they met during Riku's time in Hollow Bastion (pre-Ansem, obviously). Please give me your opinions via poll on my profile! (Feel free to do so in a review if you want, but I'll be tallying only the poll votes.)
That being said, I hope this chapter was worth the long wait! I didn't get very many reviews for the last chapter; please let me know what you guys think! I spend just about all my free time writing, so I do love getting feedback and it does make me want to update faster.