I do not own Kingdom Hearts.
Memory
The market was the best place to find food, since indoor restaurants didn't allow disheveled, muddy-faced children on their doorsteps, but food cost money, and money was hard to come by. The older kids ruled the main streets during the morning and evening rushes. They pickpocketed their way through the hard times until the merchants got wise and wore their wallets inside their shirts, closer to their noses so they could "smell the stink of the rat before it bit them."
Keiya, still clumsy at five years old, lacked the stealth to pluck money from pockets, so she stuck to plucking money from gutters. She avoided the older kids by staying on side streets, and gulped her food down wolfishly before they could take it away. She learned quickly. She didn't hold onto coins for too long, she didn't speak to any other street children she passed on the road. She knew when to hide and where to sleep. She knew which vendors would give her the most food for her copper pieces.
Winter was rough, though, and crop prices went up. She could no longer afford bread, fruits, or meat dumplings even from the travelling vendors, and with less people walking the streets in the cold, she picked up less money. She was on the verge of starvation when she met him—the man who had taken to sleeping in her alley.
He appeared out of nowhere one evening. Stubble peppered on his chin and oil in his hair, he would spread himself out against the brick walls and wouldn't budge until late morning. Keiya had to find a new place to sleep. She tried crawling behind the dumpster to reach an unseen corner in the alley, but the dogs in that building would bark and growl and keep her up all night. When she tried to find a new alleyway, she received dirty stares from the apartment residents or from the other street children already settled there.
There was a house at the edge of town for homeless kids, she'd heard from the older ones. "Homeless"—she wasn't sure what it meant. Each time she encountered such a word, she had to think around it. House was one of the words she understood. People lived in houses, they had a place to sleep and eat and keep dry. Home and homeless were harder. After several weeks of living on the streets, observing the people go about their business, she'd figured out she was houseless. It took another few months for her to deduct that she was homeless, too, whatever it meant, and only because all of the kids just like her had referred to themselves that way when they begged the vendors for meals.
The second night of the old man's stay in her alley, she found the house and hesitantly knocked on the door. It must have been nighttime, because the lady who answered looked like she'd just woken up, but Keiya was greeted with a smile nonetheless. She grinned, too. She thought things might be getting better. Peering inside, she saw lights and a room packed with furniture, blankets, and stuffed toys. The smells and sounds of food sizzling wafted through the air. She felt her little body spill over with hope.
But then the lady asked the one thing that always seemed to devastate her chances.
What's your name?
She didn't know.
Now she knew some names. She'd heard plenty from all sorts of mouths on the streets, but every name she'd ever heard dashed out of her mind each time she was presented with that question.
She couldn't lie. She could barely speak. The smile sadly withered from her face as she stared up at the inquiring old woman whose eyebrow was now raised expectantly.
"U-um… I…" Her hands were shaking, her legs were wobbling. She wasn't even aware that the woman couldn't hear her speak. "I don't have—"
Behind her, garbage cans suddenly toppled over with a clang and three dirty, ruddy boys fell down with them. They stood hastily with their hands full of scraps of food and piles of tattered clothes, all of them wearing crooked frowns and masks of mud.
"What do you boys think you're doing?" the old woman shrieked, pushing Keiya over so she could step outside. She hastily grabbed a broom from behind the door and wielded it like a samurai sword. "Those clothes are donations for underprivileged children—how dare you think to steal anything from those bins!"
The boys nearly jumped out of their skins and tightened their holds on the goods. The eldest of the three stepped forward and armed himself with a spiteful glare, threw grown-up words at the old lady trembling with rage. With no more than a wide-eyed glance back, the boys darted away from the house dropping socks, breadcrumbs, and condescending curses as they ran.
"Filthy thieves! Report them to the authorities, that's what I ought to do…!"
The woman's eyes hardened to steal balls when she saw Keiya nervously sidestepping away next to her. With smug triumph, she snatched the girl's hand with her claw-like nails.
"At least their distraction didn't get away—I'm sure the police will be glad to have one less thief on the streets!"
Keiya winced and struggled against the iron woman above her. "N-no, wait, I'm not a—"
"Headmistress, telephone the chief!" she yelled to someone inside. "Tell him to bring his extra-small set of handcuffs."
"But I didn't do anything!" she cried, trying to yank her hand out of her grasp. "Please let me go!"
She felt her feet drag on the ground as she was pulled toward the doorway. In a last resort, terrified of the familiar police bells jingling up the road, she bit hard into the woman's callous arm and kicked her shin. She only stayed long enough to hear the lady's choked gasp and screech, then not daring to look back, she sprinted from the doorstep and back onto the streets.
The next nights were long. Keiya couldn't find any coins. Her alley had long since been claimed by the stranger, but with no adults around to scold her for trespassing alongside the apartments, it hardly mattered anymore. A snowstorm kept all the city's inhabitants indoors, including the vendors which the children relied upon for food. For the first time, everyone on the streets was starving. Everyone was battling for warmth. She found herself one of the many children shivering, curled up in a ball of snow against the brick buildings, hoping some warmth from the fireplace inside would warm her hands, that the smells of stews and roasts would fill her stomach.
When the snow began to melt and the city came back to life, people were vicious. Her body had been empty of food for two days, but with no money, she still couldn't end her hunger. The old man seemed all too inviting, with his wallet peeking out from his coat and his gold relic strewn next to him, unguarded in his sleep. Something in the back of her mind triggered guilt as she tiptoed toward him. She was shaking, her heart was racing. She almost thought she would cry. It's wrong to steal, a voice haunted her. Whose voice? Who said that? She couldn't remember.
Every rustle of her own clothing unnerved her as she hesitantly stretched a hand out towards the glimmering, gold staff. It was heavier than she thought, and already warm from the sunshine. Her fingers barely wrapped around the handle. Breathing in time with the old man's snores, she carefully picked the staff up from the ground. Just as it was almost completely in her arms, however, the metal scraped the ground, and the old man jumped in alert, nearly throwing her across the alleyway in surprise.
"Aha, thief! Go to hell, you litt—"
The man's eyes widened when he saw his assaulter—the shaky five-year-old with splayed hair and wet cheeks. She clutched his blade to her chest as if trying to conceal it along with her guilt, and had backed herself into the corner of the alley.
"Aw, jeez, don't cry. I didn't mean to scare you," he said sheepishly, scratching his head. He stood up to approach her, but she flinched backward on cue. When he heard her whimper and saw her duck her head into her arm, he frowned and halted in his tracks.
"H-hey, calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you… I just want—ah, why am I so bad with kids…?"
He then solemnly reached for his wallet and shook all the money he had—all the coins and crumpled bills he'd been living on—into his palm, holding it out to her.
"Here, why don't you take this instead?" he offered, shrinking under her cries.
Keiya shook her head vehemently, her eyes squeezed shut, her fingers still wrapped tightly around the hilt of the staff. The old man sighed and placed the money back into his pocket. Carefully, he reached for her arm and placed his hand over hers.
"Well, you'll have to give me that. That's no child's toy," he chastised. He began trying to pry it from her fingers, but found that her grip was strong, that the staff stayed obedient under her touch. He raised his eyebrows and pulled it harder, until she came to her senses and let go in a fearful jolt, pressing herself against the brick building.
"Say, how'd you manage to get this, anyway?" he asked curiously, weighing the gold weapon in his hands.
She shrugged when he stared her down expectantly and mumbled in shame that she took it while he was sleeping.
The man knelt down next to her and subtly brought a hand to her cheek, wiped some hair from her tearstained face. "Not just anyone could hold onto this. It takes strength of heart."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
He pulled her from the corner and guided her to sit next to him. Keiya stumbled in her steps.
"You know, these sorts of crimes are usually punished by good parents," the man said with a feigned sigh, pulling a jug of water and two tins of leftover rice from his pack. He eyed the girl knowingly. "You have parents?"
A dull shake of her head confirmed his suspicion.
"A lot of kids in this town don't." His smile faded into a troubled frown as he averted his eyes to the ground. "Me, I'm the opposite. I am a parent without a son."
Keiya cocked her head at his words, sat rigid with her hands in her lap until the man cracked open a tin and handed it to her with a tarnished spoon.
"Well, to make it up to me, why don't you keep an old man company for a little while? I don't have much food, but I think it must be better than whatever you've managed to dig up lately."
She nearly gagged at the smell, but her stomach's churning betrayed her disgust and she reluctantly took a bite.
"So what's your name?"
Her hand stopped halfway to her mouth and for once, her voice was firm and annoyed. "I don't know."
"Okay, okay, calm down," he said. Rubbing his grey beard, he looked up as if the answer was in a cloud. "No name, huh? Well that's not right. Everybody needs a name."
He gave her a look over. Her hair was matted to her forehead, bright orange mixed with specks of dirt. Her eyes, empty and deep violet, were wet with tears but dry of emotion. A familiar face. A face he wished he could have changed once before.
"I know. How about Keiya? Technically, I suppose it's a boy's name, but I think it makes a lovely name for a girl."
She shrugged and continued eating to hide her discomfort.
"It was my son's name. He was taken from me when the heartless raided my home years ago. He was taken… too soon. Or maybe I came into his life too late."
Her throat stung as she swallowed a sour lump of the rice. The man was old—really old, now that she took a good look at him. His forehead was creased with deep, long lines carved by years of relentless regret. His cheeks, hollow and dotted with stubble, were blanched grey potholes digging into the flesh of his face.
"That was a long time ago, of course. If he were alive now he'd be a middle-aged man. I only knew him for a few weeks before the heartless came—I had stayed away so long, he was not thrilled to see me. Teenagers often aren't close to their parents, but…"
Keiya felt a strange stress build up in her chest, a straining burn that closed her throat and reached all the way up to her eyes. The man had set down his pot of rice and was staring blankly at the pavement, lips ajar, stuck on his own words.
"I trained very hard while I was away from him. This…" he motioned, holding out his blade, "This was supposed to protect the people I cared about. That was the lesson the masters drilled into me. And yet when the time came, and my family was in danger, well… I guess I just didn't have it in me."
His muscles gave out and the blade clattered to the ground. The bells of trams and shouts of vendors filled the silence that fell between the two. Keiya couldn't keep herself from staring; his face held so much weight, so much gravity of the world that she, with no past, only present, could hardly comprehend. She wanted to know more. She wanted some of that past, even if it would make her sad, too. Urged on by the raw feelings mixing inside her, she tried the name on her lips. The sound brought him out of his despondent reverie and made him smile. With a deep breath and a heavy, wholehearted release, he scooped up his weapon and set it in her hands.
"You're giving it to me?" she marveled with wide eyes.
"It does me no good now. It's more of a burden, really. An old man has no use for such things. But if you can carry it, perhaps it will serve you much better than it did me."
He watched her balance it in her small hands, turn it around and around until every edge had tasted sunlight. It glistened with the new, young life. Dust caught its light, and the bricks caught its darkness, sparkling with a crimson decadence. Then, like a snake shedding its skin, the blade burned away its gold coating, and a new radiance spread from the girl's hands. It washed over the length of the blade until the entire weapon was colored a pale, frozen silver. Keiya gaped in awe at her first taste of magic.
The old man watched solemnly with a small, relieved smile. He opened his mind and remembered that feeling, that moment he first held the infant Keyblade, turned it gold, confident with the promise that it would become something worthwhile alongside him.
"It's not mature yet," he said regretfully, watching her pass it between her hands. "That is probably my fault. Hopefully, you'll be able to use it right, and it will grow with you."
Keiya nodded her head numbly. She was stupefied by the power she felt and entranced by the black and white shimmers that ran up the blade each time she gave it a swing. Rival forces battled within the metal; when she gazed hard enough, she could see the swirls of darkness and the glimmers of light tumbling and churning beneath the silver.
She looked up to thank him, but he was already walking away.
He left her his water, his food, and his entire pack. He left her his weapon—the incomplete Keyblade that gleamed in her hands and spoke to her in soft, wise whispers. And he gave her a name. Best of all, she thought, she had a name.
~…~
Riku sat at the head of Keiya's bed. He was swaddled in bandages and cloths, arms crossed, eyes straight. His lover lay on the cot with sunken cheeks and slightly-parted lips. Thin tubes connected her arms to monitors and bags of IV fluid. Quietly, with soft stirs and breaths, she struggled to wake up. Her sedation had started to wear off. Riku was counting the hours.
Sora sat across from him, keeping him company, discouraging him from thinking too deeply. He was also charged with making sure the older teen didn't overexert himself, as per the doctor's orders. Riku refused to acknowledge his own injuries, so it was the brunette's job to keep him seated—lying down, preferably, but that was easier said than done—comfortable, and calm.
He observed his friend's face, anxious and pale with a tight jaw and a creased brow. Large, pale hands gripped the wood of the chair as Riku leaned forward to study the lines on the monitor.
"You alright, Riku?"
His face didn't budge. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Riku's gaze was interceded by a large sneaker flying past his face, a lace just brushing his nose. "W-whoa, Sora, what the hell?" he cried out, now successfully snapped out of his trance.
Sora sighed and kicked his feet up onto the metal frame of the bed. He shook his head in disappointment. "I almost thought you had your sense of humor back this morning—I guess you're losing your touch."
"I'm just not used to people throwing shoes at my face. I told you, I'm fine," Riku retorted icily.
"Then lighten up! You've been watching over her for three days and now she's finally going to wake up—shouldn't you be excited?"
"I-I am excited. I want to talk to her. It's just… a lot."
"A lot how?"
Riku's lips formed a tight line before he answered, "A lot, like I haven't seen her in a whole month."
He struggled to remember the last words he exchanged with her, the last real smile she gave him before her ruse of happiness and hopefulness. He ventured back to that day it seemed hundreds of times, trying to figure out what was real and what was not, wondering how he had missed the signs. How long had she planned to run? How long had she known about their baby? Why hadn't she told him?
Sora watched his friend fidget in his seat with a cocked eyebrow. Riku's fingers were entangled with the chain of the heart-shaped necklace he always carried. He held the charm tightly in the palm of his hand, as if it would shatter otherwise. Sora stretched his arms and yawned.
"Yeah, well, I'm sure you guys will hit it off and start making babies again in no time."
No amount of stoic detachment could hide the blush on a flustered Riku's cheeks. "Shut up," he hushed sharply, glancing back at the opened door to the bustling halls. "It's not a joke!"
"I'm just saying, you two seem to fight and make up pretty randomly. And you guys aren't even fighting right now. Why are you worried?"
Riku clenched his fists on the metal bedrail. "I'm not worried, I'm just…" His lips twisted to form the word. "…bothered."
"Bothered by what?"
He could sense Riku's reluctance to talk, which was exactly why he pressed so hard. His friend was a kettle with its lid sealed shut, boiling over, and he wouldn't be able to hold in the flood of thoughts for long.
"I just am! Everything could have been prevented if I had gotten there sooner…! I needed darkness to save her. I shouldn't have wasted so much time fighting it. I disgust myself."
Sora drummed his fingers on the wooden chair and waited for the crease on Riku's brow to disappear. "Well, you are kind of disgusting. When's the last time you showered? I haven't seen you leave this room in days."
Riku's lips tightened and he turned his face away, but one choked chuckle was enough to lift Sora from his seat. The brunette grasped his friend's shoulders and forced him into view to reveal a face red with both laughter and anger.
"Oh, good. You still have your sense of humor after all."
Riku shoved his friend back into his seat. "Can I help it? I'm friends with you."
"And it does you good," Sora said proudly. He triumphantly rested his hands behind his head.
Riku stretched and eased himself up from the chair, wincing at the sting of torn muscles and seared skin beneath all the bandages. His head had ached continuously since they returned. After the doctor's reports and a reluctant talk with Leon, Riku's despair had only grown deeper. He couldn't stand to leave her alone for more than a minute; knowing what had happened when he wasn't there had turned him guilty and paranoid. When the doctor came to run tests, Sora had to usher him out of the infirmary. He was back by her side the second the doors reopened, eyes searching for any change in her appearance, any new or fading bruises.
"I'm serious about that shower, Riku. Keiya won't want to talk to some shaggy haired slug monster the second she wakes up."
The silverette frowned and moved to open the window for air. "Slug monster?"
Sora nodded firmly, his lips curled in a mischievous grin.
Riku strode back to his seat and whacked Sora over the head mid-step. "You're not helping, you know," he said crossly.
"Hey, I got you to get up and walk around, and I think I see a smile. See? Best friend magic at your service."
Before Riku could make his smart response, he was cut off by a light shuffling of the sheets. Keiya was tossing in her sleep. The heart monitor's pace increased just the slightest bit, and Riku could swear he heard his name in a passing sigh as she rolled onto her side.
Sora gave a knowing smirk and stood up. "Well, I guess I'll leave the lovebirds alone for now," he declared loudly. He closed the door behind him when he left, but not before giving the older teen a last thumbs-up.
"Don't get too frisky now!"
Riku glared as the door slammed shut.
He sat down again next to her bed, where her cheek sank comfortably into the pillow and her body curled beneath the blankets. He could tell she was only sleeping now, from the way her breaths moved her shoulders and her fingers held the edge of the sheets. A small smile set on his face, and he gently rested a hand behind her ear.
Keiya stirred when Riku's fingers loosely twined around her hair. The feeling was warm and familiar; she knew it immediately as his touch, something she had recently only felt in dreams. She was still dreaming. But somehow, blinking past the sunlight, she opened her eyes. The slight brush of his hand against her cheek snapped her awake completely, and the two came face to face, Riku staring down at her solemnly, she gazing up at him shyly.
The rhythm of the heart monitor sped up again.
"Riku…"
With a weak smile, he shakily withdrew his hand. "Hey," he said softly. "How are you feeling?"
"I-I'm fine."
Keiya tried to pull herself up, but cringed and yelped at the sudden jolts of pain that stemmed from seemingly every joint in her body. Riku's hands were on her shoulders in an instant. "Don't move," he told her. That was when she looked down: bandages wrapped around her arms, over her chest, in spirals down her legs. Half of her was off-white fabric. Tubes and wires threatened to cover the rest of her, whatever bare skin was left to breathe. Her right arm was pressed close to her body in a sling, and her left leg, weighed down by solid plaster, completely unmovable.
Riku carefully forced her back down on the mattress. "You're injured. You need to lie down for a few weeks."
"What about you?" she asked fearfully, her voice hoarse. "Are you alright?"
When he nodded, her muscles relaxed and she let out a long sigh. Her mind was in a whirl: she struggled to remember how her fight had ended, how she'd wound up in casts. On top of that, a new flood of memories pounded behind her eyes, so clear she wondered if someone was running a film straight through her head. A light had turned on in the darkest reaches of her mind. Restless, she tried to get up again, maneuvering herself with her good leg and arm.
"W-wait, I just said—Keiya, lie down!"
She didn't relent, so Riku reluctantly placed his hands on her waist and helped her to sit against the headboard, setting a pillow behind her back, muttering something about her being stubborn even while she was sick. When she was settled, Keiya twisted her hair nervously over her shoulder. Riku's eyes were on her, and she couldn't bring herself to face him. She could feel the weight of his stare and the tension building up in his body, as well as in her own.
When the silence became too much for him, Riku pulled her necklace from his pocket and let the charm dangle in the sunlight. Keiya immediately looked over, leaned forward with a gasp. She had forgotten it, in the shadows of the castle. Its sparkle reflected eagerly in her eyes. Wordlessly, Riku reached his hands behind her neck and clasped it in place.
"It's yours," he said, letting his hands linger on her shoulders before he dropped them to his sides. "You should have taken it with you regardless."
She shook her head. "Riku… I'm so sorry." It took all her strength to summon the words. "I should have trusted you. I-I—"
"I know." He shifted in his chair and crossed his arms. "It was a trick."
The nerves swelled and swirled in her stomach so badly she felt she would throw up. His disappointment brought up a weak, automatic defense to her humiliation: "Why did you even come after me? You promised you wouldn't."
"The same way you promised not to leave?" he reminded her sourly.
"No, I mean… I-I mean…" She swallowed and said quietly, "Thank you."
Riku was gripping the wood of the seat with both hands. His mouth hung open, but the words were caught in his throat. He watched every move of hers intently, trying to decipher all the answers to the questions that had been plaguing him for days. His eyes followed her nervously darting gaze, her frown as she bit her lip, her hand as she rubbed the sling encasing her arm up and down for warmth. He reached to take that hand, but uncertainty made him pause halfway. He looked down for a moment, took a breath, and reached to tilt her face into his view.
"Keiya, why did you run away?"
Her cheeks blanched white beneath his stare, and her lips trembled before she answered. "…I'm sorry…"
"I know. But why?" he pressed.
Keiya turned her head away. She spread her palm on the sheet and kept her eyes fixed on her hand. "I was just afraid," she said softly. She squeezed the sheets hard between her fingers, turned her knuckles pale, anything to avoid looking at him. She didn't want to see the sadness she had put on his face. When she spoke again, her voice broke, and she squeezed her eyes shut hard to keep away the tears.
"They showed me so many things every night, so many horrible things..."
"Just the nightmares," he murmured thoughtfully. To her ears he sounded careless, and she whipped around to retaliate.
"I watched you die over and over again, Riku—it was so realistic, I couldn't tell, okay?" Keiya swiped her sleeve over her eyes and clutched her forehead where a painful throb was threatening to break out. Her cheeks were pink and wet now, heated with a flush of indignation. She sobbed into her arm, barely audibly, "I just couldn't do it anymore!"
Silence took over the conversation, with the only noise now being the heart monitor: fast, anxious. Riku moved to the edge of her bed and tried to coax her arm down, but she stubbornly shrugged him away.
"I understand, Keiya. I know. I didn't mean it like that. I was just thinking…"
He watched her begin to pull at the wires stuck to her body, still avoiding eye contact, desperately trying to rid the room of the awful beeping that gave away her heart's secrets.
"Never mind. Let me help you."
Riku gently stilled her hand and let his fingers climb up her arm, removing each needle and each circle of tape with careful precision so that she didn't even flinch in pain. His touch calmed her. She stopped shaking. After a moment, when the monitor was silenced and the IV cable was disconnected, she lifted her eyes. Liquid turquoise pools trapped her in their labyrinth until she couldn't feel the stiffness in her joints or the chill of the air blowing in from the open window. The familiarity was overwhelming and refreshing.
He kept his hand over hers when he finished, drowned her in his gaze. "Better?"
"Thank you," she whispered shyly.
He gave a small smile—a very small one, and it vanished seconds later—but it was enough to dry her tears.
"Are you okay?" he asked again.
"Yeah. You don't need to keep asking."
He scratched his head. "Right. I've just been really worried."
After a moment, Riku turned toward the window and entered a state of contemplation. Keiya watched his shoulders tense, his eyes go distant, and felt every fiber in her body long for the rift to close. She longed for his embrace; she longed to forget. Seeing him so absorbed in his thoughts unnerved her—his thoughts were on her, she could feel it. And worse, thinking of his thoughts led her to relive her secrets: she thought of her mistakes, her lies, her baby. Their baby. She thought of its quick, ruthless expulsion from the world. She thought of Sai and the powerful darkness she'd wielded when she'd tried to kill him. But finally, she thought of how it wouldn't have made any difference, because her baby's life had been over the second she'd left their new life behind.
Shakily, she reached out to touch him, only managing a light brush against his shoulder. "Riku…"
"Yeah?" he said, turning toward her without coming out of his trance.
Keiya swallowed hard and drew her hand back into her lap.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked quietly.
Riku leaned back and sighed. She could see frustration forming on his brow. "Nothing. It's just… You acted like you were fine the day before."
With a hand to her eyes, she tried to hide how flustered she was. She tried to hide her shame. But then a voice in the back of her mind began to scold her: how many times had she used running as a solution to her problems? How long was she going to hide? What was the use of talking to him if she couldn't face him? She forced her hand down.
She nodded slowly and parted her lips. "I didn't want to alarm you."
"So you fooled me."
She nodded again.
Riku unconsciously strained his voice and fisted his hands in the sheets. All his fears and thoughts rose to the surface and came out in several long, tremulous breaths: "Do you have any idea how terrified I was the entire time? I searched for you everywhere, for three weeks, and all I could think of was that you would be hurt before I could find you. You were hurt. You don't know how guilty I feel right now, seeing you like this!"
"You don't have anything to feel guilty about," she insisted. "I'm the one who ran away."
"Yeah, I know," he said dryly. "But I should have anticipated it. I really believed you that last day. And if I had used darkness to track you as soon as you left, I could have saved you before… before they…" His throat went dry when the rest of the sentence came up his throat, and never made it out his mouth. "Well, it wouldn't be like this."
"Wait—darkness? That's how you found me?" she asked warily.
"Yeah."
He was met with a startled stare from her, as if she had just been struck clueless over the head. Riku smoothly crossed his arms and mentally deflected the pangs of remorse she was sending towards him.
"You're not one to judge, Keiya."
"I'm not judging—I just feel awful about it! Is that allowed?" she snapped. "I never wanted you to get involved."
Riku sucked in air. He couldn't restrain himself; he was losing his meditated, calm state of mind to the fevered questions burning inside.
"How many times have I told you? I want to be involved. I want you to stop keeping secrets from me." He grasped her good arm and unconsciously leaned closer to her, made her face him. "You never let me know what you're really thinking—you wouldn't even tell me about your nightmares when you woke up crying. You tried to take care of everything by yourself, and look where it got you!" he chastised.
He motioned to her casts and bandages, and thought of her blood staining the cold castle floors.
"It hurts me to see you like this. I wish—"
"Alright, I get it!" she exclaimed.
Keiya couldn't keep her voice from shaking as she spoke. When she saw a solitary tear leak from one of Riku's eyes, which the silverette quickly erased from her view, a downpour of her own unwillingly followed. She snatched a pillow from beside her and buried her face in the soft fabric for comfort.
"I know I was wrong, o-okay?" She paused to wipe her eyes and swallowed a sob. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I'm sorry. I thought about it every single day that I was there, you don't even know... I missed you so much. And when I found out that it was all a mistake, and that I shouldn't have left, I-I just… I broke down, I—"
Riku encircled her in his arms just as she felt she would crumble. His face was still hard, but his arms were soft and his skin was warm, and she couldn't help but relax against him. She grasped his shirt, dug her fingers into his back, and pressed her face firmly into his chest.
"I want to go back in time!" she said in a strangled whimper. "I want to redo everything. I wish I hadn't left. I really wish I hadn't."
She inhaled the scent of his skin soaked in his shirt and wondered how she'd thought she would be able to leave him forever. Of course he would come after her. Of course he'd take it as a challenge. Stupid, stupid, stupid—instead of protecting him from Maleficent and Sai, she'd brought him right to them. Riku's breath prickled the nerves of her ear as she thought of every confusion-wrought excuse that must have been running through her mind when she'd decided to run.
Riku's voice was silk to her ears: "Well, a lot of good came out of it too, right?"
She looked up at him earnestly.
"You defeated Maleficent. You freed yourself," he reminded her.
"Oh." Her tone was apathetic, but accompanied by a blush. "Right."
"You're not happy?" He pulled back to make her face him. A warm hand reached to cup her flustered face, while she stared blankly forward, meeting his eyes with a saddened resolve.
"I'm really proud of you, Keiya," he encouraged gently. "Watching you fight was incredible."
He felt her shrug in his arms. "Things still could have turned out better," she murmured. She could barely force the next words out of her mouth; it seemed she'd been contemplating them forever. "You don't know yet. I did so many things wrong. I need to tell you, but I don't know how to start…"
Riku's muscles tightened as he waited for her to continue. Her lips quivered, her uneven breaths shook the air. After the seconds rolled by in silence and her mouth creased to a sealed line, he sighed and pulled the words from her lips.
"Are you talking about our baby?"
Keiya's skin paled to a ghastly white. "…Y-you already knew?" she breathed. "How—"
"The doctor told us."
All the air was thrust up from her lungs. She was choking on something: the words, the guilt, the dryness of her throat. When she found the means to spill her next sentence out into the open, they all rocked her back and forth. She felt sea sick.
"A-and, you know I don't…" She paused to catch her breath, then tried again, whispering, "You know I don't have it anymore?"
Riku nodded solemnly.
Keiya turned away and tried to tie her gown in knots. "I wanted to tell you myself…"
"And would you have told me, or would you have tried to keep it a secret?" he asked dryly.
He was met with a tinge of anger and fierce, vehement protest: "I wanted to tell you! Why would I ever keep that a secret from you?" Keiya unknowingly clenched the fabric over her stomach. "A-all I could think about was you… It was killing me! I felt terrible—I felt like I stole something from you!"
Riku's voice came like a rapid fire, "Then why did you leave?"
"I wouldn't have, if I had known, obviously!" she defended, grappling with the blankets wrapped around her. She couldn't keep herself from screaming; the hysteria was exploding inside her, spreading from her womb to every aching muscle in her body. Her blood cried out for unattainable justice. "Don't be ridiculous!"
Riku was silenced by her sharpness. "Wait, you didn't know?"
"Of course not!"
The density around him dissipated, the steam in his head cooled. His face relaxed, and he carefully shifted to sit closer to her. "I'm sorry, calm down," he pleaded.
She gave him an unapproachable glower, which he fended off with a gentle stare of his own. Wind swirled in from outside and cleansed the air. As they took their deep breaths and pants, both spirits were forcibly calmed.
"When I found out, I was worried you left because you were afraid to tell me," he admitted. Keiya felt her temperature drop down to normal and made no protest when Riku experimentally placed a hand on her shoulder, then wrapped his arm around her back. "I was worried that you were afraid of me, because you thought I would reject you…"
Her voice broke as she explained. "What? N-no, that wasn't it at all. Riku, if I had known, I definitely would have had the strength to stay with you."
She remembered that word—strength. She hadn't been strong enough. But not anymore, she promised herself again. No more hiding, and no more lying.
"I'll tell you now. You should hear it from me," she decided. She began with a nervous swallow. "When I left, I had no idea that I was… I mean, I wouldn't have even thought of leaving if I knew…"
Riku nodded slowly, urging her to continue.
"I was carrying our baby, and I-I lost it. They took it from me. I don't know why I didn't fight back. It didn't occur to me until it was too late."
The wind threatened to drown her out, but she knew Riku was listening to every crack, every waver so intently, he would have no trouble hearing her. She felt the downward turn of his lips crease the breeze as it stung the scrape on her cheek.
"I was kneeling on the floor. Sai was holding my arms behind my back."
Her mind flashed in and out of reality. The sight of Maleficent seething before her burned in her eyes, and the memory of Sai's grip on her made her shiver in detestation. A wave of nausea accompanied the vision of familiar sickening green balls of flame and ire.
She continued breathlessly, "Maleficent had so much magic. It was all darkness, and she threw it right at me. I ducked out of the way, and then… Sai squeezed my neck so hard, I blacked out." Keiya clawed at the sheets unconsciously, looking up for the first time only when Riku placed his hands over hers to calm her. "W-when I woke up, there was all that blood…"
When he nodded, she knew he could still see it, too.
"I did everything I could think of. I tried to bargain with her, a-and I even begged her, but she wouldn't hear it." She sank against the headboard and let Riku encircle her in his arms, though this time it barely comforted her. "Maybe it was for the better," she murmured shakily, the words slicing her throat on the way out. "I wouldn't have made a good mother anyway. I should have fought back."
She felt Riku restrain himself from crushing her with a now tightening grip. "Don't say that! You did all you could. Maleficent thrived on beating you down and raising you to be insecure. This is exactly how she'd want you to feel."
Keiya nodded her understanding but could hardly escape that frame of mind. Riku, however, was intent on lifting her spirits.
"You gave up your pride, and I know that's not easy for you to do," he pointed out, trying to get her to smile. He brightened a little when he thought he heard a faint chuckle muffled by his shirt. Then he realized: he was holding her again. He'd spent weeks wondering if he'd ever even find her, and now she was in his arms, alive and awake. Lively pounding overtook his chest. He held her tighter and wove his fingers through her hair.
"Keiya…" he began softly, "You'll be a great mother because you understand how valuable life is. You know what hurt you as a child. You'll remember it, and you'll treat our children with the love and tenderness you were missing."
Small patches of dampness soaked into his shirt. Riku tried to lean back to see her face, but Keiya swiftly pulled him back to her to hide the tiny trickle of tears he'd started.
"Hey, did I make you cry?" he asked, nudging her arm. His response was a muted whine and a light punch to his chest with her good hand.
"Shut up, jerk," she muttered over the soaring of her heart. "If my better hand wasn't in a cast, I'd punch you in the face."
Riku laughed heartily into her neck. "Yeah, but you might miss if you try it now, so don't give me more reason to make fun of you."
Keiya stayed glued to his chest for another few moments, absorbing his warmth and everything he'd said to her. She was hung up on every word. Love and tenderness—he'd taught her those things. They'd teach their children those things. We'll survive, she thought blithely. She concentrated very hard on the guilt she felt, and on the image of the life they'd created, then let it all go. I have my whole life now.
After a deep breath, she resurfaced from her shelter and wiped her hair and tears from her face.
"How could you say something so nice to me, then start teasing me?" she complained through an unwilling grin.
"I'm just trying to make you smile," he stated with growing confidence. His finger traced her bottom lip seductively. "See?"
While Keiya glowed in appreciation, still cleaning away the teardrops with haste, Riku was concentrated elsewhere. He held her loosely now, gaze locked on the far wall. His stomach had settled since she woke up, but a few things still lingered on his mind. Sai's glove was in the top drawer of the nightstand next to her bed. Her small collection of belongings was in the next drawer under. Seeing him so preoccupied, the smile having faded from his face, Keiya summoned what was left of her voice and courage to resolve the last conflicts plaguing her heart.
"Riku, I really am sorry," she began solemnly, struggling to maintain a steady tone. His eyes met hers with the same seriousness, gave her permission to continue. "I know I lied to you, and I broke a promise. I caused you so much trouble when I left. I wouldn't blame you if you can't forgive me, but… I want you to know I'd do anything to make it up to you. That's all I want, a chance to make it up to you…"
She looked up at him, head bowed, hands folded in her lap. She expected an equally sincere reply, but was surprised to see Riku's mouth slowly curl from a blank line to a crooked smirk.
"That's good," he said. "Because I've had a lot of time to think. I'm not mad at you. I've already forgiven you. And I came up with my list."
"List…?"
Riku couldn't resist. Even with the other matters hanging over his head, he leaned toward her and took pleasure in her wary stare. "Of ways you can make it up to me," he offered.
Keiya's eyes widened in disgust. "I meant that seriously."
"And I'm being serious. Have you changed your mind already, or do you at least want to hear it?"
"Alright, go ahead," she relented with a suspecting frown.
"Well to start, you should probably marry me."
Keiya turned every shade of scarlet. "I knew this was a joke!"
He smirked to hide a laugh, but retaliated with, "I'm completely serious. I don't mean right away, but being that you owe me your life, sometime in the future."
He watched her go speechless, and her eyes, narrow predictably at his informal request.
"Next, I want you to tell me everything," he said firmly. "No more secrets. I want to know everything about you, everything you can remember. Third, I think it goes without saying that when you're all healed, we're going back to the islands together. Then there's some kind of celebration the night before we leave, in honor of Maleficent's defeat. I want you to dance with me in front of everybody."
When he stopped counting off the items on his fingers, Keiya, still tinged, asked, "Is that it?"
"Well I'd take another trip to that spring in the woods, too, but I won't hold you to it since you're injured."
Keiya couldn't deny that his stupid, nervy demands made her anger melt away like ice. After running through the list in her head again, (though ignoring the first request with a disbelieving blush,) she nodded her approval. "Okay, I can do all that for you."
Riku gave her a toothy grin and leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Thank you. I'm looking forward to it."
She only muttered something under her breath, reaching his ears as, "…can't believe I actually missed this…"
Riku brought his lips close to hers so quickly she didn't have time to react. His kiss was sweet and lasting, and sent familiar chills and rushes of electricity up her body. "In all seriousness," he whispered when they parted, "what I really want is for you to stop feeling guilty. I forgive you. Now you need to forgive yourself."
Keiya nodded in a haze, more focused on the hair's breadth of a gap halting a second kiss. "I-I know. I can," she promised. She took a small breath, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to his. This time, both of them let go. His hands were in her hair, behind her neck, around her waist. She tugged at his shirt collar until their eyelashes were touching and there was no space between them. "I love you," she breathed between kisses. When the same words were repeated into her ear, she let her eyes drain her sorrow in tears and cried in welcome for the start of a new era.
~…~
She woke with a start in the middle of the night, words ringing in her ears. "I'm sorry." Her shoulder burned where she could swear he had touched her. Her skin still held goose bumps from the chill of his darkness.
"Riku? Riku, wake up," she called urgently, shaking him lightly where he had fallen asleep next to her.
"What is it?" he asked groggily. He looked around the room, half expecting heartless out of habit. "Is something wrong?"
Her stare bore into him with desperation. "Where is Sai? Is he here? Can I see him?"
Blood drained from his face, but Keiya didn't see. She pulled the blankets over herself and tried to still the chattering of her teeth. Hesitantly, Riku stepped off the bed and flicked the lights on.
At his silence, she explained hastily, "I had the weirdest dream, I-I just really need to talk to him. Is he in a different room?"
Her eyes were searching, pleading, making Riku already regret what would have to come out of his mouth.
"Keiya, listen. He's not here." He rejoined her on the bed and tried to pull her into his arms, but she refused, too riled up to be held.
"Then is he home? At his home, I mean? Or did he go somewhere else?"
"Relax, please."
When he rested his hands on her shoulders, she gave him an uneasy look. The way he grappled for words set a stone in her stomach.
"He's dead now," Riku said carefully. "He's gone."
Keiya's face twisted: her eyebrows raised, her lips hung open. Violently, she shook Riku away from her. "What? What are you talking about? He can't be—"
"He is."
His voice was clear, but Keiya couldn't understand him. It had never occurred to her that Sai could disappear, even after she had tried to kill him herself. He seemed immortal. He had always been the one constant in her life. Even as he changed, became warped and jealous, he was still the other presence in Maleficent's lair, and the only person who might for one second take her side.
"Did you kill him?" she asked tremulously, staring into the whiteness of the sheets.
Riku nodded solemnly. "He was going to die. He was in pain. I just finished it."
"Oh…"
"Are you sad?"
Keiya forced herself to think of how he had hit her, how he'd let his envy consume him and held her still while Maleficent drained the small life out of her womb. She thought of how he'd taken the witch's orders and suffocated her for punishment, all for the promise of new power. Green eyes sick with greed and jealousy, hands cold and possessive, hard on her neck.
Keiya sank into the blankets. "I don't know. I think… I should be glad he's gone."
A glimmer of disgust set in his eyes. "And are you? Are you happy, then?" he pressed.
She was surprised at his tone of voice, and asserted spitefully under the pressure, "Y-yes. After what he did… of course I'm happy."
The Keyblade knight clenched his fists and couldn't help but feel sympathy for the boy. Her obstinacy in hating her comrade seemed petty; from the outside looking in, Riku could see the deeper feelings at work. The same need for vengeance she had always accused him of now had her trapped in its claws, but she refused to acknowledge her faults. The irony made his insides tighten.
"You can't say that. Keiya… he died to save you," he stressed. "Without him, you would have been killed."
She gave him her attention cautiously. "W-what do you mean?"
"Maleficent's darkness was eating you alive after you fought her. When I found you, I-I wasn't sure what to do, I couldn't think of anything. Sai was the one who helped." Reliving the last moments in the castle made his heart pound fiercely in his chest. Sweat formed on his hands. He could almost still smell the darkness and the crumbling concrete.
"He let the darkness into his body instead. He wouldn't let me help—he said since you didn't care about him, he might as well be the one to do it," he told her remorsefully.
Keiya stared straight ahead, taken aback, angry and vulnerable.
"He knew he was going to die. When he finished, he let me end it."
Riku waited for her to respond, but she didn't give any reaction except a slight inclination of her head. He felt tension build up around them, knew he was striking a wrong nerve with her, but to let her continue to hate him in ignorance… He couldn't live with the knowledge kept locked up inside him.
Riku's brow creased in frustration at her continued composure. "He said he owed you. He didn't even want me to tell you about this, but I think you should know everything before you say something you shouldn't."
"This is just like him…" Keiya said under her breath. She began shaking so hard the blanket threatened to slip from her shoulders. "Just when I thought I could leave it behind, he has to do something like this… And now, you're telling me I can't even hate him!"
"I'm saying you should think first. Don't you understand that he saved your life?"
"He killed our baby, Riku!" she shrieked. "How can you tell me to feel sorry for him? He deserved to die—I hate him!"
Riku maintained the same level of persistence, knowing that if he pressed her, he could break down the wall she was constructing between herself and reality.
"I'm not saying feel sorry for him, but I think you would feel better if you found a way to forgive him."
"No!"
"Hear me out. Can't people change?" He moved to pry away the hand that was now covering her face. "You're crying. I think… you're sad. You wanted to talk to him before."
"I'm not sad, I'm annoyed!" she upheld, wiping her eyes. "Because now that he did that, I… I-I feel… It's just not fair for him to do that! Trying to earn my forgiveness like that, not giving me any other option… It's not fair!"
Riku saw through her tears to the place feelings were made. Hers were all mixed up. They were battling with each other for control.
"You've spent a lot of time hating him."
"It's always been that way," she assured him crossly. "And with good reason."
"I think you're afraid to stop. I think you're looking for someone to blame."
"You're making excuses for him! Don't—"
Just as she started to get worked up again, Riku's hand rested atop hers and he gave her such a knowing look that she couldn't raise her voice to him. She couldn't withhold the surprise from her face. He had a way of forcing her to look her faults in the eye, of humbling her until she hardly recognized her true self.
"Listen," he started, taking a deep breath. "Despite everything he did, I think he had some good in him. For him to give up everything for you, to have felt sorry enough to want to make it up to you, there had to be good in him. I think you know it."
Keiya flushed in indignation but remained speechless.
"He was a different person when he made that choice," Riku remembered. "It wasn't the same guy I fought. I think he was really sorry."
Closed eyes. Silence. Riku treaded carefully.
"I think he loved you."
Keiya stayed frozen for minutes. When she recovered her wits, she shook her head against the words. "H-he was different, a long time ago…" she murmured.
She blamed him. She hated him. But as much as she burned to admit it, she could always still see traces of the eleven year old buried inside the monster he'd become. She could even say she'd seen it coming, but it pained her to think backwards and decide where he'd gone wrong.
The memory of a young boy danced across her vision. His mop of brown hair was plated with dirt. He twirled through the corridors, ducked beneath staircases, fell on his back swinging a fake sword. He beckoned to her with a curious smile.
Riku broke her from her trance by wiping her fresh tears onto his sleeve.
"I'm not saying I wasn't mad when I found out. I was furious. I didn't know what to do with myself," he recalled calmly. He fixed a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. "But he did save your life. I can't go on hating him for that. And I'm not the right person to judge, am I? I've done my share of bad deeds too."
Keiya nodded and blinked back the small droplets.
"Did I ever tell you, I'm responsible for how he turned out?" she whispered. "If I had had the courage to warn him to leave when he first arrived, his life wouldn't have been ruined."
"You're not responsible—"
"I am," she insisted. "Because I didn't tell him. I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want to be alone there."
She took her head in her good hand and let herself cave in. She let her heart wretch from side to side in her chest, and her lungs, heave out of her control. With Riku's hands holding her steady, she gave him the reigns.
"When we were fifteen, Maleficent told him to deal out my punishment. H-he did. He didn't even think about it."
Keiya saw the look on his face behind her eyelids, his outstretched hand brimming with darkness.
"He suffocated me," she cried hoarsely. "And afterward, he still tried to help me as if nothing had happened. I hated him for it. He wasn't the same after that."
She grasped onto Riku's arm to hold herself up. He was serene, composed, waiting for her to let her thoughts out. For the first time, she couldn't hold them in. She couldn't contain the memories. They broke out of her skull, ran out of her mouth before she could think to stop them.
"You know, before you came, I tried to kill him," she confided. "A-and I'd tried before, too. But I could never do it. I got so close, and then I thought I saw him—the old him—and I couldn't go through with it. I was angry that I hadn't done it. But now that he's really… dead…" The word pierced her throat and made her eyes sting. "I'm not sure anymore."
"It's okay. It's alright to feel sad." Riku subtly brought her into his arms and gave her the support she needed to completely break down.
"He used to be my only friend," she admitted softly.
"It sounds like… you needed him."
"But he betrayed me."
"And he saved you." His strong voice carried her over her weakness. "Don't force yourself to hate him. Remember what he was in that instant—what you said, his old self—and forgive the rest. It's easier to live with."
"…I can try…"
Riku leaned back and smiled at her. Her face was tear-ridden and pink, but held less weight of stress and bad feelings. Reaching into the drawer on the nightstand, he pulled out the glove he had saved for her and placed it in her hand.
"It's his. I kept it in case you wanted it."
Keiya nodded and traced the veins of the leather. She measured his hand against hers, then tried to measure it to the smaller hand in her memory, and conceded to herself that maybe he was the same person.
Riku then pulled out the small cardboard box containing her belongings. When he set it before her, she gasped and reached for it hungrily.
"This is yours, too?"
"Y-yes. He gave them back to me, before… you know."
She pulled each item out one by one, first the faded, worn hair-tie, then the small pouch of stones, and last, with a softening gaze, the crystal earrings. Those she kept in her hand for a while, and replayed the memory in her head that was so eager to be heard.
"My mother gave me these," she said wistfully. "Before the heartless killed her."
Riku gave her a confused look, cocked his head. A lingering smile formed on her lips.
"Riku… I remember some things now."
"What do you mean?"
"From when I was a kid. I remember a little bit. Some things I forgot, and some I haven't thought about in a long time."
She reached her hand out in front of her and, calling upon instinct, confidently summoned the silver keyblade.
"This, too. I remember… all about it."
Riku grinned and sat up in earnest. "Tell me?"
"Okay."
The stories went long into the night and lasted until morning, climbed over shaky lips and a tongue tied occasionally in knots until they were free. Talking brought up more memories—an endless supply of memories that jumped up from the reaches of her mind. They were smells, sounds, and brief sights. Most of them were blurry and indefinite, but they were there for a reason. She knew they weren't made up. She began to search through them, as she got farther along. She searched for a memory of her real name. Her parents' and brothers' faces. The name of her home. Riku tried to help, but it wasn't enough. As morning approached and she ran out of things to say, he laid her down and told her to sleep.
Visions of nameless, faceless people haunted her dreams and ran loose through her mind until the only thing she had to comfort her, the only real memory she could cling to, was of Sai picking her up off the floors of the castle and keeping her company, waving darkness out of the way as he walked her back to her room.
~…~
Author's Note: I hope the lengthiness of this chapter makes up for the huge delay in posting it. Next chapter will be the last full-length one. After that will be the epilogue, then this story is over. Hope you all enjoyed the beginning of the closure. There will be more of it in the next chapter, since this one does seem kind of tense…
Oh, and "Keiya" actually is a boy's name. I had no idea when I started this, but I'm happy with the reason (coughexcusecough) I came up with for it. ^_^'
Well, happy belated Easter, and please review!