I do not own Kingdom Hearts.

Broken

Keiya wielded nothing but pure darkness as she beat hordes of heartless away from her and her petrified lover. Her body was on fire with rage, trembling despite the power she commanded. They fell with just a touch of the massive streak of black magic she allowed to emit from her hand. She swung it as she would swing a blade; it was practically solid, but able to be molded, and even to the heartless it was poisonous to the touch. They let out beastly screeches as she thrust the sword through their formation and evaporated as if they were being torn to pieces.

The darkness encircled her body in a sort of transparent fog, not readily perceivable in the dim room. Her eyes had also taken a darker hue, but she couldn't be bothered to consider the consequences of her recklessness. All that ran through her mind was the urgent need to eradicate the heartless—to protect him and herself. She'd burst from under the covers the second she'd sensed an unwelcomed presence in the room, the same moment in which she sprang from a nightmare, leaving Riku no time to beat her to the action.

She was fierce in her determination; nothing but the battle existed for her. She couldn't hear Riku calling to her from behind or her own raspy pants and cries, couldn't feel the injuries she was sustaining while throwing herself into such a large army of the crawling creatures. All she knew was that she had to defeat them, and she was. She continued to swing her detrimental weapon in heavy, careless strokes, as in the heat of the battle and the depths of her hysteria there was no way to think or plan.

Time was also lost to her. She wasn't sure how long she'd been in her frenzy, but all of a sudden the heartless were gone and Riku was standing next to her, trying to snap her out of her delirium.

"Keiya!" he roused cautiously.

When she felt his hand firm on her shoulder, she suddenly became grounded. The room spun around her when she stopped and stood still. The lights were on—when that had happened, she couldn't tell—and the heartless had vanished into torn pieces or back into the floor—one way or the other. Forcefully, she released her tight grip on her weapon, causing it to disappear into smoke. Her breaths came out shakily and with much labor. Before Riku could freely move to hold her, no longer threatened by her thoughtlessly fatal darkness, she collapsed to the ground in a heap of exhausted tears.

"Keiya, calm down," he started, kneeling next to her.

"Why do they keep coming back?" she shrieked almost incoherently, her head bowed and her face hidden. Her hands were so tightly clenched around the fabric of her nightgown that her knuckles turned white. Her hair, previously vivacious and wavy, was reduced to its former flat state.

"Relax, Keiya. It's all over," he soothed.

"They… they'll keep sending them forever, won't they?"

"Of course not. Everything will get better. Just trust me, okay?"

"But…"

Riku gently replaced his hand upon her shoulder in an effort to comfort her, but she violently shrugged him away. His goodwill only produced more tears. Though unhappy, he understood why: still coating her body was a thin, murky layer of the detested darkness.

He stubbornly scooted closer to her and took her loosely into his arms. She was frigid and trembling, of course, but beneath the physical pains he could sense a deep, torturous force making her mind reel and suffer. He felt as though she'd been slipping further and further away from him no matter how tightly he embraced her, and now, with only two days left to go, she was nearing her breaking point. He was terrified of what would happen to her when she reached it.

Her voice rang out above the sobs, "Don't touch me!"

"Don't start that," he said. "You're not yourself. Just… let me hold you, and try to calm down…"

She shook her head angrily, still enraged at the persistence of her enemies. When Riku tried again to take hold of her, her hand automatically shot out to smack his away. She shouted a hasty, "I said let go!" but was unaware of the still riled power coursing through her body unopposed. An aura of vicious darkness still surrounded her and delivered upon contact a stabbing, searing pain to his arm. He jumped back uncontrollably and she lurched in fear.

"Riku? I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean—"

"It's okay. Really," he murmured through clenched teeth, nursing the invisible wound, suffering painted on his face for the longest moments of her life. She could only watch in remorse and humiliation, ashamed of the monstrous power she'd let run wild. She was too weak and upset to suppress it now, she knew, but that she couldn't at least control it made her feel all the more pathetic.

She watched him gather his bearings as the pain faded. He was turned away from her, his eyes undoubtedly still shut tight. After a while, he managed to straighten himself up and relax his muscles. She breathed out in relief but felt no diminishment in her own pain: the force driving her to doubt and regret.

Riku moved toward her wordlessly, no longer willing to comply with her obstinate wishes, and pulled her up off the ground. She didn't dare try to push him away again, as he'd guessed. He succeeded in wrapping his arm around her, initially to her dismay, but she learned to try to be calm in his embrace. Her body still trembled as he held her, and her voice was naught but soft whimpers and shaky breaths.

He moved them to the bed, where he took to fixing the blankets in order to occupy the otherwise empty moment. With no strength left to oppose, she let herself fall back onto the mattress and curled comfortably under the sheets. Riku followed suit after flicking off the lights and pulled her into him. She tried to give in to his coaxing, to let what had transpired escape her mind and go right over her head. However, even his sweet words and tender caresses could not penetrate her worry. Even as his fingers stroked back her hair, she fell into another fit of hopelessness.

"I can't do this!" she blurted into his chest.

Riku restlessly raised his head from the pillow. "Don't say that. It's only two more days," he reminded her anxiously. He tightened his hold on her. "We'll be home before you know it."

She began to writhe to try to get out of his grip. "No—I can't go! I need to get away from here…!"

"Keiya, calm down—"

"I need to leave now!"

"Stop it, Keiya!" he yelled firmly. He sat up to hold her still but could do nothing to halt her tears. She looked up at him with distress in her eyes.

"You're… you're just tired. You'll feel better in the morning," he diagnosed fearfully. "Right now… you just need to go back to sleep."

She didn't heed his advice and instead tried to throw off his weight. Riku was forced to wrestle her down to keep her from escaping.

"I can't go back to sleep—I'll just see more…more… I don't want to sleep!"

"You need to. You're exhausted—you couldn't even keep yourself up yesterday."

"No—I should just leave—!"

"Relax. You're not going anywhere."

"Get off me, Riku! Let me go!"

She grappled and thrashed to be released, but he lay back down with her and held her to his chest to muffle her protests.

"You don't know what you're saying," he said, convincing himself more than her. "You promised you'd come home with me—stop talking like this. You're coming home with me…"

"No, I can't!" she exclaimed, now becoming breathless. "I can't…"

"You are."

"I can't!" she shrieked.

An uncomfortable silence followed during which Riku lost all his self-assuredness to her grave conviction. He looked down to see the top of her head, as she was burying her face in his T-shirt. The liberated darkness still lingered on her body; the smell was strong and the consistency thick. Cautiously, he proceeded to stroke her hair, to try to comfort her, but he quickly saw that his efforts would never warrant success. She was lost beyond persuasion and promises.

"I need to go away…" she murmured quietly, unconsciously.

"You don't need to go anywhere."

"I have to…"

"You said you would stay with me—Keiya, stop it! We're going home in two days!"

"I can't go with you!" She upheld sternly.

Riku's heart sped up to a sickening pace. "But…. you can't change your mind!" he argued. "You promised!"

Her response was the same, accompanied by a shake of her head. "I have to leave…"

When her fingers weakly unclenched from his shirt and dropped to her sides, Riku held her twice as tightly to compensate.

"You can't be serious," he muttered.

"I am!" she cried. "Now let go of me!"

She wriggled to free herself, and when her companion fixed his arms around her to prevent her escape, she violently pushed off his chest with whimpers of protest. He was barely aware of her struggle; all that occupied his mind was her hysteric longing to run away from him. The world seemed ready to close in on them. With just two days left, he couldn't fathom how quickly she'd been blinded.

"Let go, Riku!"

"No!" he replied in half-disgust, half-fear. "You can't leave—you promised me!"

"I'm leaving now!" she declared with renewed vigor and dread. She tried in vain to pry his arms off her, but he was steadfast in his hold and could not be deterred. He eventually brought her so close to him that she couldn't move—he didn't want to crush her, but it was all he could do to put an end to her fit. Unable to do much else in her position, she let out laments of frustration and muffled shrieks of indignation, none of which persuaded him to release her.

She stopped fighting after several minutes of her captivity, but he kept her firmly pressed to him, knowing better than to assume her calmness. Riku felt her tremble again, and the cries turned to small hiccups.

"Riku," she started softly, sobs again evident in her voice. He bit the inside of his mouth to keep from giving over to her distressed pleas. "I don't want to hurt you! I need to… I have to go…"

It took him an eternity to respond, it seemed. The denial that had consumed him was now replaced by dread. He wasn't sure whether to appease her or force her: tenderness dictated the former, but his protective nature and strong tenaciousness coveted the latter.

"You can't hurt me, Keiya, and no one will come near you. You'll be safe there. We both will," he tried.

"No—I just… I need to leave…"

Riku weighed the options dizzily and carefully loosened his grip so he could lean against the headboard. She stayed in his embrace, for which he was grateful, but her resolve struck him as nearly indisputable. But he would try.

You're not leaving me…

He didn't notice that he was the one trembling now, and that his face had taken its own lackluster hue.

"Then… will you let me go with you?"

Her eyes darted to his face, and she stumbled in her speech before getting out a hasty, "N-no."

Riku took her chin in his hand and kept the eye contact. "You're saying you can't come home with me… Then let's run away together."

She shook her head immediately. "No, you can't come!" she reiterated. "You can't be with me!"

"We can still be together—please, Keiya! I'm not going to keep living on the islands without you!"

"It's impossible!"

"Why, then?"

She snapped impatiently, "That would defeat the whole purpose!"

The hopeful gleam in his eyes was replaced by one of bitterness. When his offer was rejected, he turned back to his original assertion. He would not accept her change of plans—there was no change of plans, to him.

"Keiya, this is ridiculous—you're not yourself right now," he stressed. He pulled her into him and carefully, despite her meek oppositions, laid her back onto the bed. He continued decisively, "We'll… we'll talk about this tomorrow. You're just worked up."

"Riku—"

"Just stay with me," he interrupted. "The heartless are gone for now, it'll be morning in a few hours… There are only two days left. You don't have to fight again. I'll protect you. So don't talk about going off on your own—it's not happening. I won't let you."

She interjected, "But what if they keep coming?"

Riku ran his hands over her back soothingly. He spoke calmly and unwaveringly, trying to stifle her worries and allow her no room for argument.

"Listen to me: everything's going to be alright. You'll feel better in the morning. You won't even know why you said all this," he added, wanting to wake her from her delusory conclusions.

Dreary-eyed and with no strength left to fight him, she settled for a nod that contradicted her ever-present doubts. Her head was scheming for a way out, her heart was set against it, and his sweet words and warm embrace held her somewhere in between: wanting to run, longing to stay, and unable to do either with sincerity.

~…~

Riku woke to light footsteps and a shuffling coming from across the room. He felt rather languid this morning, as the constant nighttime trials were taking their toll on him. From the moment he awoke, he could tell it was late in the morning. Waking up two, sometimes three times a night was beginning to affect his normal sleeping pattern. Still lying in bed, he stretched his arms out with a small groan and let his thoughts settle. Memories of that night's struggle were the first to surface: the yelling, the fighting, all the tears and words exchanged. He was made to face again the strong, hopeless assertions with which she'd bombarded him. It was enough to make his head spin.

The shuffling continued, stimulating his curiosity. When he mustered the strength, he heaved himself up and vigorously rubbed his eyes.

"Hey," Keiya greeted, smiling at him from over her shoulder.

He was dumbfounded for a moment by her suddenly bright attitude. He shook his head and quickly recovered.

"H-hey."

He watched her turn back around and dig through the dresser, pulling out clothes and folding them into her suitcase. All the worry that had overpowered him the previous night faded into a blithe, renewed excitement, and he hopped out of bed to meet her.

"You're packing," he acknowledged happily. She gave him a curt nod, a simple smile still adorning her face. Riku sat next to her and watched her stack a pile of shirts neatly into the luggage, alongside another pile of skirts and pair of shoes.

"You've been at this all morning?"

She closed a drawer and thought for a second before replying, "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd get a head start. We're leaving… tomorrow."

He grinned that boyish grin of his, though she dared not peer into his face. "Yeah, tomorrow," he reiterated. He didn't bother trying to hide his stare; it was the first time he'd seen her smile in days, and he wanted to absorb it.

She appeared as she normally did, but less despondent and in better spirits. She wore a light sundress and had taken the time to tie her hair into a neat pony-tail. The color hadn't fully returned to her complexion, but considering the days she'd spent locked in her room, she looked healthier.

He broke into another smile and gently brushed the bangs from her face. She made no move to oppose him as she had last night; she acknowledged his actions with a grin. Indeed, she didn't even bring up the events that had transpired just hours before. He felt there was no need to say anything about it himself. She'd been caught in the moment, he concluded. If he were going to say anything, he would do it on the islands. Nothing could spoil the current mood. It had been too long since they'd been this cheerful and at ease.

"Do you think we can go out today, if it's not too busy?" she asked.

"Yeah, definitely. We should see the town one last time."

"Mm." She nodded in agreement.

"Keiya, I'm so glad that…" After reconsideration, he waved it away. "Never mind. I'm going to take a quick shower, then I'll help you finish," he announced.

"Okay."

Before strolling into the bathroom, he paused halfway to steal a last glance at her preoccupied in her work. Relief was painted on his face, and he felt lighter than he had in days. When she noticed his attention, she returned his smile with a softer one of her own, and he proceeded into the bathroom, leaving her by herself.

As soon as the door closed, Keiya flung the shirt she was holding into the suitcase. Her lips fell into a look of indifference—almost sadness—and she slouched against the wall.

Tomorrow…

She drew her legs in and huddled into a ball.

I don't know what to do… about tomorrow…

All morning she'd been thinking of ways to please Riku, of ways to calm the doubt she knew she'd instilled in him last night. It was hard work, putting up a front. However, she couldn't fool herself. Troubling images haunted her every second of the day. Every glance he gave her, every smile—it all led her to thoughts of disaster painted out in her nightmares. She couldn't escape any of it even in the daylight.

Packing only drove the spike deeper, but she could see in an instant how it had cleared Riku's mind. She wanted him to be happy, at least. From now on, she'd decided, she would deal with the worries alone.

She sat there listening to the water run for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes tried to close on her, but she wouldn't let them. Too many visions were seen behind closed lids. When she felt that sleep was about to get its way, she forced herself to jump up and shake it off.

Then with a deep breath, she set back to work.

I can't believe it's almost time. We've been counting for so long, and finally, it's day one…

She fixed the shirt she'd thrown neatly into the appropriate pile and let her thoughts drift on their own accord. It would be a busy day, and for that she was grateful. She wouldn't have that much more time to think. Deep, deep in her heart, past all the remorse, she was excited to go. She wanted him to force her if she refused; she wanted to end up on a shore where there was no way to escape and no way to be found.

I want to go with him.

Even though it's… not right.

She hardly realized when she'd filled the small luggage to the brim. In a fit of restlessness, she shoved clothes into the suitcase to make them fit.

I need to stop thinking. I just want to be there now. I want this to be over with.

When she heard the shower stop abruptly, she quickly resumed making the clothing fit nicely again.

Twenty-four hours, then I'm there. If I can make it just twenty-four more hours…

~…~

"What's that over there?"

Sai stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder at his teammate, who was peeking through the hedges at something on the other side. He wandered over to her, his hands as always tucked in his pockets, and bent down to see from her level. When he brushed aside the shrubbery, he beheld the procession of a matrimony taking place just yards away. A decent sized gathering was present to witness the ceremony, and rows of benches were set up to accommodate them. Atop a white satin roll-out carpet walked the bride, blissful and light-footed. Sai glanced over at Keiya, who was watching the ritual in fascination, and let out a deep exhalation at her ignorance.

"It's a wedding," he stated, unimpressed. He started walking back towards the trail, but his companion continued to look on.

"A… wedding?"

"You know, when two people get married?"

"…"

He rolled his eyes to conceal a pang of triumph over her intelligence. "Jeez, don't you know anything?"

She shot him a dirty look that convinced him to hold in further insults. "Not something like this."

The fourteen-year-old strolled back over to her with another showy lament and again pushed aside the leaves. However, when she eagerly leaned in to see what he would point out, he felt nothing but satisfaction. Very rarely did he ever get to teach her. Whenever he did, it was always things like this: festivals, attire, and children's games—insignificant details about the worlds outside Hollow Bastion. Most of his answers revolved around what he knew from his own home world, and she was particularly spellbound by the stories. When she asked, he took pride in describing to her its climate, its winding paths and murky gray skies, the diet of the citizens, the marketplace (though he left out facts of his constant fights there,) and the quirky superstitions and habits of the people. He hadn't thought of the small fishing town as special or unique, but to her it was. It gave him a chance to glorify the pitiful village from whence he came, as well as to show off his street experience compared to her lack thereof.

"See the woman in the white dress? She's the bride, and that guy in the suit at the end of the carpet is the groom."

"What do they do?"

He couldn't hold in a smile seeing her so clueless and infatuated with the lavish ceremony. He had to admit that the gathering they saw here was more elaborate than any he'd had the privilege to witness at home—two, only one of which he could remember—but the idea was nothing foreign or novel to him.

"They'll become husband and wife." When he noticed the lack of enlightenment on her face, he added, "It means they'll live together from now on and start a family."

She nodded in comprehension; she was starting to piece the concept together, to match it to the various couples she'd seen on the streets during journeys and escapes. It seemed like such a natural part of life, and yet she'd never been introduced to the process by which those people came together.

"So your parents had a wedding?" she inquired, seeking confirmation of her understanding.

Sai's aspect turned dismal. He turned to hide his face, refusing to let her see him any way but collected; he didn't want her to know he still hadn't fully recovered after his parents' murders. It had already been three years, and not a day passed that he didn't think of their limp bodies and expressionless faces, that he didn't fight to remember the last words he'd said to each of them.

Biting his tongue to restrain any emotion from crossing his face, he replied simply, "Not one like this. It would've been too much money."

"Oh…" Seeing him clench his fists and turn his back to her, she suddenly caught what she had said. Guiltily, she clasped her hands together and redirected her attention to the wedding in an attempt to give him privacy, all the while chastising herself for being careless—as careless as he usually was. Her blatant curiosity had drowned out her judgment; she'd forgotten the details of his tragedy. Much of the time, she only remembered that he'd lived a normal life and she hadn't; he'd had parents, she didn't know what had happened to hers.

He leaned against a tree trunk when he became tired of standing, but still didn't turn to face her. He needed to erase the thought from his mind completely before he could act as he normally did.

"Sai… sorry?" she offered meekly.

He gave a flat, forced laugh. "For what?"

She found herself near speechless on the matter and didn't give any immediate acknowledgment. Strangely, she felt pity and guilt for him: two feelings she never associated with her reckless comrade. The roles were reversed. She had no idea what to say to appease him; she was even more disturbed by the fact that she wanted to. From his uptight countenance, she could sense him not seething with anger, but stumbling helplessly through his thoughts that she'd been so wicked to reawaken. Despite all his lust for revenge and impatience to surpass her, he appeared not more than that boy of eleven. Two years had changed him, but hadn't erased his essence.

When she recovered her wits, she tried to help him regain his composure by motioning to the service and questioning, "What are they doing now?"

He caught her cue a moment later and reluctantly strolled back over to the bushes. She took care not to look him in the face yet, not to embarrass him by witnessing anything he was trying to hold in. She knew him to be sensitive no matter how hard he tried to control himself; his "control" often revealed his emotions better than his face could have: there was the way he shook with anger, the way he scrunched of his eyes to abolish any tears, and the tendency he had to explode with rage at a cruel word…

Sai glimpsed through the brush to observe the minister presiding over the penultimate part of the ritual. He lingered there to rebury the hurt that he was sure had surfaced, and when he finally, hesitantly withdrew from the bushes, Keiya was waiting anxiously for both an answer and a reconciliation.

"It's the ring exchange," he began to explain, forcefully tearing his mind from the devastation on which it was determined to focus. "They give each other a gold ring that they'll wear for the rest of their lives."

"Oh."

Silently, he wandered back to rest against the tree, keeping his face toward her but sorrowfully downcast. He still seemed to be troubled. His eyes were narrowed—not menacingly, but bitterly—and his arms were crossed cautiously to his chest. When she glanced over at him, she noticed an impenetrable look in his eyes.

Without any further prompting, he stated, "My parents didn't have those, either."

Keiya looked up in bewilderment that he would offer such information himself, and wasn't quite sure how to proceed. He wasn't upset with her and wasn't avoiding the topic, but the way he spoke invoked within her feelings of shame and irresponsibility. Sheepishly, she inclined her head in acknowledgment but found no words with which to speak.

"Anyway, we're supposed to be heading back to Hollow Bastion now. If Maleficent complains that we're late, it's your fault," he decided.

"Alright," she acquiesced.

Sai began walking again, and she followed a few feet behind. As they left the wedding site, they passed a space with no bushes to block the one last view. She looked on eagerly and tried to absorb every second she could. Then, all of a sudden, she became dizzy, and things turned around.

In an instant she was four years older, standing on that same altar in her own long white dress. Before her was her bridegroom, handsome in his suit and wearing his familiar warm smile. His silver hair and bright eyes reflected the sunlight and made her weak at the knees. She acquired a blissful smile of her own, unable to see anything else around them. Riku had her spellbound.

He took her hand when the priest gave him permission, and in his other, held out a small gold band. When she regained the feeling in her body, she realized she too held a ring—one of his size. Wordlessly, he brought her hand to his chest. She grinned at his racing heartbeat and stepped closer to him, wanting to take him in her arms. He gently restrained her and instead carefully slipped his ring onto her finger.

Riku kissed her hand, the gleam of his eyes reflecting into the gold. Her head spun, though there were hardly any thoughts to be had. She absent-mindedly brought the ring she held for him to her heart and watched his lips curl into a soft smile.

She reached for his hand next, taking it in both of hers, dazedly noticing its dominance in size and warmth. In one delicate motion, she fixed her ring on him.

As soon as it was fastened at the base of his finger, the smile disappeared from his face. His body went rigid and stone cold, and the once lively surroundings turned bleak. Keiya's legs went weak, and she dropped to her knees to accommodate her weakness and his weight as he toppled to the ground with her. He fell right into her arms, limp and pale. She shakily maneuvered him into a laying position and watched anxiously for movement. His chest rose and fell unevenly; his face was pained and his breath only breaking through in pants and murmurs.

"R-Riku? Hang on!" she said frantically, looking around for help. The clearing was empty; not even the priest remained.

Helpless and hopeless was how she felt. Riku was visibly paling and struggling for breath before her eyes, but there was no one around and no way for her to know what to do. His strains haunted her to no end. He gazed up at her with dulling but piercing eyes—she couldn't tell if he was angry or afraid or both. His mouth was agape as if he longed to say something, but nothing coherent could escape his lips.

"I have to get you help! I have to… Riku!"

She shook him violently by the shoulders when his eyelids slipped shut, but to no avail. All that remained to pronounce him living was his shallow breathing, visible in the now freezing air. She gripped the blades of grass for dear life as she waited for each next puff of smoke, praying that they would keep coming.

When the small clouds began to slow, she weakly pounded on his chest. "O-open your eyes! Riku, please!"

Again, her eyes flitted around the area for some sign of help or advice. She then clutched his hand in hers, each one adorned by a gold ring. He gave no squeeze back, no reassurance—just more choked inhalations. It wasn't until the glittering gold gleamed to blind her that she realized from what sin his sickness stemmed. She pried and pulled at the ring, but all her efforts were futile: it had practically melded itself to his skin. It was the only object that had retained its vivacity, along with her own glowing band. The two sparkled brighter than anything else in the forsaken clearing, but neither would detach from the skin to which they'd been bound.

"It won't come off! Oh God, it won't come off!" she shrieked. "Riku!"

His eyes fluttered half-open at her panic, but despite the awareness, he only continued to get weaker. His hand twitched at her persistent tugging, and right away she halted in her mission to capture his hand in hers once more. He directed his gaze toward her, reflecting nothing but pain, devastation, and betrayal. She had to bury her face in his palm to hide the tears and escape the condemnation.

"I'm so sorry—I'm trying!" she cried, working passionately at removing the ring again. However, as she toiled, his eyes closed and his breathing slowed significantly. Not even a whimper could make it out; the life was being drained and choked out of him. Keiya, terrified and bent on getting rid of the poisonous gold, forced herself to ignore any expressions that crossed his face, any changes in his condition, to better gain her composure. Finally, with a bitter exclamation of victory, she pried the ring from his finger.

But it came off easily.

It was too late.

Keiya nearly jumped out of bed, nauseated and numb. She sucked in air hungrily and blinked numerous times to get ahold of herself, but it was useless. His pale, pale face and listless, lifeless, body burned in her vision. For the longest minutes, she could comprehend nothing else. In her mind rang one thought over and over: I shouldn't still be here. She did nothing to restrain a fresh wave of tears and sobs; her body was tense with stress, and there was no other way to relieve it.

Riku was sleeping soundly next to her, only having shuffled once when she'd initially jumped up. He was quite at peace, an arm lazily outstretched where it had fallen from her waist. He was oblivious to her torments. She kept herself still after noticing this and bit her hand to stifle cries of disturbance.

Without his conscious presence, she felt overly insecure and dangerously free. She agitatedly clenched her fingers in her hair and suffered an uncontrollable cry of distress.

I shouldn't still be here.

Keiya stood automatically as if bewitched by her thoughts, shifting her weight carefully between feet so as not to creak the floorboards. She trembled her way to the wardrobe and grasped the tabletop for support. On the door of the wardrobe was a large, body-length mirror. With pallid features and a lost gaze, she peered mercilessly at her reflection, judging every trait from head to toe, inside and out. Behind her, also reflected in the mirror, she could see Riku peacefully asleep, wanting to keep her absent body safe and warm.

Horrible… I guess I'm horrible…

She swallowed a sob that threatened to break loose and unconsciously reached for her necklace. With jittery nerves she raced to trace its edges. It had always calmed her desperation, even by a fraction. However this time, with Riku's reflection taunting her in the background, it intensified her guilt. The mere existence of the object seemed to chastise her; it spelled out her selfishness to have accepted such a romance that she knew could never really last. She had played a trick on him. She could only cause trouble for him. He didn't deserve such a liability.

It took all her strength to keep from dropping to the ground. She was sick with guilt and embarrassment, and her mind was unable to bring up Riku's eternal reassuring words that always soothed her so well.

Behind her, from the floor, arose the first few intruders of that night's brigade. She only looked at them in silent sorrow. Exhaustion had hit her so hard that rage couldn't be summoned. With no will or strength left in her, she let down all her defenses. Darkness swooped into her heart in one foul rush, unabated as never before, unchallenged in its conquest for the first time. She dismissed the heartless with a simple gesture, and they fell to her command instantaneously.

She doubled over in self-disgust when the heartless took their orders. She'd never given herself completely over to darkness; she was naturally set on fighting to expel it from her body, but in such a large, monstrous quantity the task was impossible. It made her all the more sick with shame.

It's over now, no matter what.

She watched him in a yearning that could not be fulfilled, with a sadness that could not be calmed.

He deserves better.

Keiya groped her way to the dresser, shakily threw on her sweater, and stepped into her shoes. She didn't even try to halt the crying now; it practically choked her to hold it all in. The boards creaked under her feet, but she didn't slow down. She was desperate to run.

She stumbled to the mirror one last time, taking in her disheveled appearance: the darker irises of her eyes, the flatness of her hair, the darkness lurking in small puffs over her skin. She wore only her nightgown with the sweater and shoes. Preparations didn't seem important—urgency surrounded her, suffocated her, so that she couldn't think rationally.

It was then she caught sight of the glittering jewel still innocently dangling around her neck. Her eyes were fixed on it for several moments. She loved and cherished the necklace he'd given her—it was one of her only sources of comfort. Set against her pale, tear-stained complexion, it was hopelessly out of place.

She reached for it in longing.

If Sai finds it, and finds out… Oh God, I don't want to think of it!

After giving the crystal a long, wistful stare, she reluctantly reached behind her neck and unfastened the latch. The chain piled neatly in her hand when she took it up, and the charm rested daintily on top.

I need to give it back to him… she told herself. It's not mine anymore. He's not mine anymore.

With unsteady hands she placed the necklace on the dresser, letting her fingers trace the heart once more for memory. Then, tearing herself away, she turned to face Riku.

He hadn't budged at all since she'd risen; repeated midnight fights had worn him out. Cautiously, she approached the bedside and leaned over to see his face. All the while her hands nervously twisted the fabric of her nightgown. At that instant she yearned so, so badly for him to wake up and stop her. But when she acknowledged that immense fault that rested on her shoulders, she rung her dress harder and forced the wish out of her mind.

"I'm sorry," she whispered above him, uncontrollable tears already spilling down her face. She outstretched a trembling hand and hesitantly brushed his cheek. In a wave of realization, she succumbed to a hoarse cry and had to cover her mouth. Teardrops now clouded her eyes so that she could see nothing but blurs of color.

"I'm not strong enough," she admitted through bursts of hysterics. She rubbed her eyes, frustrated with her pathetic behavior. "I tried, but… I just shouldn't…" A sob cut her off. "I shouldn't… be here…"

Looking down at him, seeing him so natural and serene, she wondered if she could kiss him. She couldn't remember the last time she had—sometime in the dark that night, no doubt, between his sweet nothings to coax her to sleep. However, though she ached for it, she bit back the impulse and slowly inched away toward the window. Her hands traced the walls to guide her there, as her eyes were still locked on his form. Never had she felt so helpless—though she should be in complete control of her actions, she couldn't bring herself to stay. Her mind was fixed on disaster—she was afraid to ignore the warnings any longer.

When she felt the cool glass of the windowpane, she allowed herself one last, long look at her beloved keyblade wielder. She felt empty out of his embrace, deaf without his voice. He was out of her league now, no matter what she wanted—she'd already fallen to her own power. She couldn't let him see her now, and she couldn't bear to endanger him any longer. Shivering in the cold, sadness, and vehement disgust, she released the hatch and let the window swing open. She turned away from him, promised herself that she wouldn't look back, and stole out into the night.

~…~

Author's Note: This was a hard chapter for me to put into words—I hope it doesn't disappoint! It's so much easier to have it play in my head. If you think anything could have been written better, please let me know! I'm totally open to suggestions here.

Please, please, please review, and thank you for reading!