Okay so have you guys ever had the best idea ever - the BEST IDEA EVER - and then you go to write it down and it's total shit?
Yeah, uh. That's this chapter in a nutshell. Maybe because I've had this whole thing planned for like three years, but... idk, it just feels like a huge letdown to me. Bah, whatever. Just read it.
Disclaimer- Nope dot avi.
"Interesting!" Dr. Finkelstein mused. "So the puppet wasn't stolen after all."
"Yeah, it ran away on its own," Goofy explained.
Sora folded his arms, still a little dizzy from the speed at which they had had to leap from Santa's sleigh before Jack rode off on it. Apparently, he had still wanted to continue flying about and absorbing the general experience that Santa had every year. "Is… was the experiment supposed to do that?" he asked tentatively.
"Well, it certainly wasn't something I had planned for it," the doctor admitted, turning his wheelchair and glaring pointedly at Sally, who was creeping out from his house, as he went on. "After Sally, I intended to make something that wouldn't run away on a regular basis."
To the rag doll's credit, she met her creator's venomous gaze with a defiant look of her own, and Sora stifled a chuckle at knowing she didn't need them to stand up for her.
"But," Dr. Finkelstein said, the loudness of his voice startling them, "the fact that it could move about on its own tells me it was an outstanding success!"
"I don't know what kind of success that is," Donald muttered, "but at least he's not mad at us."
"I heard that!" the doctor warbled, eyes somehow razor-sharp even behind his dark glasses. Donald let out a "wak!" and dashed behind Goofy, who leaned up with a start.
"And maybe you could use the main body to create something else," Sally pointed out, venturing closer. The soothing, pacifying tone to her voice seemed to calm the doctor, making the brunette wonder exactly how much practice she had had easing her creator's temper.
Sora shrugged. "Maybe," was all he said. For some reason, it felt like a massive hole yawned in the discussion – like something was missing. He thought back to the moment they had leapt out from behind the wall, startling the experiment into dropping the presents it held; the revelation that it was the thief who had fairly invalidated all of the elves' hard work; Santa approaching in his sleigh…
The Keybearer jolted up in realization and turned to Sally, who met his eyes questioningly. "I was going to ask why the experiment was going around stealing presents," he confessed.
"Oh yeah," Donald said, eyes lighting up with recognition and a bit of self-annoyance as well. Clearly, in the exhilaration of the flight here – he and Sora had leaned over the side, the latter shouting "Look, no hands!" before doing exactly that and the former just squawking in pure happiness while Jack laughed and Goofy covered his eyes – he had forgotten about the reason for the flight in the first place.
"Santa thought it was because the experiment was lookin' for a heart," Goofy said, gently prying his friend away from his legs. Some of the duck's mummy bandages rustled as he stepped back on his own.
"That's quite possible," Finkelstein said. "Unlike my Sally, it wasn't equipped with a heart." A thoughtful slant marked his querulous voice, and he turned and wheeled himself back up the ramp to his house. "Maybe just the desire for a heart has more influence than I thought," Sora heard from his direction, and suddenly he had to hold back a shiver. A shiver that came from within, and not just from the iciness of the Halloween Town air.
Because the way the doctor had phrased it – just the very desire for a heart – sounded like the Nobodies' goal in one single sentence.
And I still feel bad for the experiment, so…
But the Nobodies are different, he argued with himself. They're not just playing with presents, they're playing with the worlds and everyone in them.
He risked a glance over at his allies and met Goofy's worried gaze. The dog seemed to have had the same thought as well, from the expression that undoubtedly mirrored his own.
But now Sally was giving them a concerned look, and so Sora forced himself to shake it off. "But if the Heartless wanted a heart, why would it steal Christmas presents?"
"Maybe because…" Sally began, then continued more strongly, encouraged by the others' curious stares. "Presents are a way to give your heart to someone special." As she spoke, she looked up to the sky; Sora followed her gaze just in time to blink at the sudden object blocking the moonlight.
An instant later, a thin shape leapt down, and Jack landed in front of them, tails of his coat fluttering. His face shone with exhilaration as he swept his eyes over the group; maybe it was Sora's imagination, but those hollow eyes seemed to linger on Sally. "That was the most amazing experience I've ever had!" he gasped out at last.
Sally drew in a breath that distinguished itself sharply from the chilled air and addressed Jack. "You didn't…"
"Steal it?" The skeleton gasped and laid one hand over his crimson-clad chest. "Oh no, Sally, no! Sandy let me borrow his sleigh for a bit."
"He really did," Sora added at Sally's dubious expression. However, dread tinged that skepticism as well, as though she didn't want to theorize that he had taken the sleigh without permission.
Sally looked from Donald to Goofy, who both nodded in agreement. "I know it's hard to believe," the mage said dryly, "but it's true."
Suddenly, Goofy yelped in confusion and leaped back for no apparent reason. Sora's hand immediately dove to the new Keychain – which he had dubbed the Decisive Pumpkin on the way here, for Jack's title the Pumpkin King – only to gasp in awe. Snowflakes were coming down, marring the shadows with bursts of white; it only took a moment's scrutiny to see they originated from the sleigh that the reindeer still pulled along high above.
All around the five of them, Halloween Town residents were venturing out of their homes, drawn by the oddity of the flurries in a holiday not themed toward snow. Goofy and Donald shrieked more out of surprise than fear as a dark snake slithered from underneath them, and they leapt onto the fountain's edge, with Goofy pulling Donald back so he didn't fall into the acid bubbling there instead of water.
"Jack!" a familiar voice howled, and they all looked over in time to see the Halloween Town mayor scrambling toward them. His face had swapped expressions from its typical happy one to a desperate, tooth-showing frown. "What's going on?" the mayor wailed, effectively falling at the skeleton's feet.
Jack laughed, carefully pulling the self-styled elected official to his feet. "There's no need to worry, everyone," he called out. "Just Sandy Claws, wishing us a merry Christmas."
"It's a wonderful present," Sally murmured, so softly that she could barely be heard over the clamoring of the other residents.
Skellington swung toward her, even as the others began to wander back to their homes, albeit slowed by wonder at the flurries that melted as they reached the ground. "A present?" he echoed, tipping his head to the side. "But – I don't understand. There's no box. No ribbon tied in a bow."
The Keybearer sighed, shaking his head with an indulgent grin. Of course – even though Jack had the best understanding of Christmas out of his home, he still couldn't understand every little aspect of it. Like friends exchanging gifts, or spending time with family you never get to see normally. "Jack," he began to explain, "it's not about the box or ribbons. It's about what's inside the box."
Sally's eyes widened in realization. "No, Sora," she said, the words coming slowly, as if the revelation were pouring out of her as it formed. "What really counts – what's special – is the act of giving the gift." Although her gaze remained steadily on the sky, her words seemed more directed toward Jack. "To wish deep in your heart to make someone else happy."
Sora thought of all the days he had spent with Kairi and Riku, as well as the times on this journey he had wanted to reach out to Char and transform her repressed anger and secrets into something he could know, and knew with a pang that Sally was right.
Jack's head returned to its normal position from where he had angled it to the side in confusion, only for it to tilt the other way as a new emotion entirely came onto his face. Something like tenderness, aimed toward the girl who had somehow noticed what he never had. "Of course," he whispered, then, louder, "Of course. Sally, you're absolutely right."
Then he jolted slightly, a palm pressing over his chest again – not out of teasing indignation this time, but for another reason entirely. "Wait… I feel… something warm inside me."
"Gawrsh, Jack, I think that's Sally's gift to you," Goofy said from behind them. Sora glanced back with some measure of surprise – to his chagrin, he had all but forgotten about the two of them since the Halloween Town residents had begun to clear out – and saw Donald stepping down off the fountain's rim.
"Really?" The skeleton blinked. "This wonderful feeling… is because of you?" he asked, turning to Sally.
She nodded, not daring to meet his eyes.
An instant later, though, she jerked up as he strode closer and reached down to grip her hand in both of his. "You've given me the nicest present in the world," he said with a warm smile. "And I've got nothing to give you in return."
Sally shook her head, gently pushing his hands down. "The nicest present I could ever ask for, Jack, is just to be with you."
"You don't even have to ask for that," the skeleton chuckled, drawing her close to him with a hand around her waist and the other twined with hers.
They fell into a dance, right there in the middle of the Halloween Town square, and their ease reminded Sora so powerfully of the Beast and Belle he had to look away from it. Even the paltry light offered by both the acid fountain and the moonlight mingling into one lit up Jack and Sally's faces, fully illuminating their happiness at getting to be together like this.
"You know," the brunette murmured, making Donald and Goofy turn to him, "maybe I never got Char a real present after all."
It was odd; barely a month ago, Kairi's maroon hair and violet eyes and easy smile would have swum into his consciousness. Now, though, he found himself only remembering how Char had slapped the Oathkeeper's Keychain into his hand, features trembling with rage and suppressed tears. She gave me something with that, too, though. Another reason to fight, even after she was gone.
He looked to the others and, to his surprise, saw sympathy in even Donald's features. However, they wasted no time promising they would find her and their other friends regardless of whatever enemies – mechanical or Heartless or Nobody alike – chose to impede their path; at this point, that needed no confirmation. Instead, Goofy stepped up and placed a hand on Sora's shoulder. "Y'know, Sally said a real present is a wish to make somebody else happy," he reminded him. "I think you already gave Char that much."
Sora's eyes widened. When he put it that way, they had all given that kind of gift to someone at some point: Donald to Daisy, and Goofy to his son Max.
I gave that to Riku and Kairi. And everybody we've visited along the way.
It was why, in the end, only happiness and warmth for the skeleton and his dancing partner permeated his heart, rather than envy and sorrow poisoning it.
He didn't realize he had spoken the part about all of them having given to their precious ones until Donald spoke. "You know, you're right, Sora. And… I guess… Char's a bit like Sally."
Now that bemused Sora. "Why's that?"
"Well," Goofy said, "as long as she can be with you, what else does she need?"
Sora tilted his head to the side, brown spikes swaying a bit in the late afternoon breeze. All around him, snow continued to fall, heedless of their surroundings or their observers; a soft giggle drew his gaze, and he watched with a sudden, sharp pang as Jack swiped an offending snowflake off the outer hollow of his eye. One unfortunate drop of snow sizzled out against the acid fall of the fountain as Sora thought.
He remembered her refusal to dress as a man to join the army, but desire to follow him nonetheless; her single-minded determination to restore his old self after Anxclof had released his heart; the way she had embraced him at his return at Disney Castle; her actually pushing her pride aside to reveal the exact reason behind her loathing toward Christmas; the warmth of her kiss, awkward and short as it had been.
As Jack and Sally continued to twirl and sway across the courtyard, the skeleton bringing her into a sharp dip before pulling her back upward again, Sora closed his eyes, allowing a vision of himself and Char to replace his two friends – so similar to the Agrabah ball, and yet so different.
Because in his mind they were clad not in the dress and suit from back then – whose location, he thought fleetingly, he still didn't know – but in his dark ensemble and her brown jacket, and no clumsiness showed prevalently in his step or any awkwardness in her tread, and she was actually smiling at him much like she had in his dream.
But, he suddenly recalled, with a pang of longing so powerful and agonizing amidst the sleep-like warmth encasing the fantasy he almost gasped aloud, it wasn't reality.
With no small amount of reluctance, he opened his eyes. The sun-like glow of Jack and Sally's movements shone all the more brightly in his vision due to what he had just banished; when he tried to summon the image back again, it wouldn't come.
"Oh yeah," Donald suddenly cried, "Santa said we could come back!"
The brunette blinked; he had completely forgotten about Father Christmas' offer. In spite of himself, a grin began to spread across his face: because at the very least, they didn't have to spend the night alone in the Gummi ship.
Next Christmas, it'll be different, he had thought to himself, as he had sat next to Jack on the sleigh listening to Donald struggle to get up the steps and the reindeer snorting and pawing the crunchy snow. Next Christmas, I'll have all of them by my side. Riku, Kairi, and Char.
This was a terrible idea.
Char sighed deeply, both at the wry inflection behind the thought and to try and relieve the pressure of the table's edge on the middle of her spine. Predictably, not even expanding her ribcage enough for her body to shift a little away from the corner relieved the very sharp object digging in there, to her intense irritation.
She surveyed the spacious room – one that might have been beautiful were it not currently saturated with the inane chatter of people filling it up. At least the music unfurling from the band the mayor had gathered together onstage streaked the annoying dissonance of clashing conversations going on around her.
In addition to some of the conversations, some of the people had begun an impromptu waltz routine in the middle of the area, albeit with more rapid movement than a normal waltz would include. As much as the sounds of the others had annoyed her, Char found her eyes drawn to the couples who had chosen to join the dance. In particular, that of a red-haired girl and a brown-haired boy who had more recently, more shyly, stepped into the throng of people.
The boy stood taller than the girl, the girl's hair was shorter than Char's, and obviously the boy's hair wasn't near as unruly as Sora's, but their similarities to Char and the boy she had so forcibly left behind struck her like a Heartless' talon. Like a Behemoth's lightning strikes. She didn't know it, but her mouth twisted wistfully as she watched them clumsily adjust to the beat of the song and laughed at each other's nervous enthusiasm.
"Hey, Blaze!"
Char cringed at the new voice, one she already groaned inwardly and outwardly at hearing. She briefly considered ignoring him in favor of just the memory of better company, but then figured he would just keep pestering her until she did.
As evidenced by the rigorous poke he applied to her left bicep.
"Copperhead," she muttered.
She dared to aim a glance upward and raised an eyebrow at the grin that quirked his entire face upward. "This party is amazing!" he crowed, tipping the glass he held in his hand up to his lips. After taking a sip, he lowered it again, eyes slipping closed. "Man, this punch is good."
Although his tone sounded steady enough, Char leveled her suspicion at the pink substance sloshing back into place within its confines. "You sure the punch is the only thing in there?" she quipped dubiously.
"Huh? Oh!" Copperhead looked down at his drink, and Char rolled her eyes. "Nah, this isn't spiked, if that's what you're thinking. Although," he added, a teasingly encouraging glint coming into his eyes as he leaned closer to her eye level, "the legal drinking age here is eighteen…" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.
Char growled and shoved him back none too gently by the arm. "Good try, but I'm sixteen, not eighteen. And anyway, even if you're going for legality, you're asking the wrong person. Isn't Falcon eighteen?"
Copperhead had already stumbled back, laughing all the while as if her shove, which really amounted to a light blow with the strength applied to it, hadn't done anything to damage his pride at all. The words "geez, Blaze, I was just kidding" had already begun to spill forth from him, but no sooner had the words "was just" overlapped with Char's query about Falcon's age did he stop abruptly. The amusement and playful flirtatiousness receded from his countenance immediately, and he took another sip of punch, the sluggishness with which he did so suggesting he was gathering his thoughts.
She watched him with narrowed eyes; the thought briefly crossed her mind to press onward, to demand why exactly he thought he could just take refuge in a veil of silence now, but something inside stopped her. Something that felt a little damnably too much like pity.
In the end, she just huffed and turned away, hating the uncertainty that rose up, bile-like, into her throat. She ended up staring down at the table she currently leaned against, wondering just how much hunger remained from the chicken dinner Falcon had quickly scraped together for her and her guests not two hours before. So far, the desserts that took up residence on the table were tempting her.
Picking up a chocolate-slathered confection whose name she could not even begin to place, she focused on biting into it instead of the – ugh – worry she felt at how quickly Copperhead's blithe manner had shifted into melancholia. Once she had swallowed her mouthful, she turned back to him, in the vain hope that looking at him wouldn't dredge up any sort of guilt.
Of course that didn't work out. Ugh, whatever.
"Have you seen Riku anywhere?" she queried, stringing a brusque angle onto her voice in an attempt to return to normalcy. Besides, she truly was curious as to where the hell her friend had disappeared. "He kind of just vanished after we got here."
Copperhead lowered his now mostly-empty glass and shrugged. Although he seemed to have recovered himself, one last thread of shadow faded out from his eyes as he spoke, and Char couldn't help wondering the source of that final strand. The day he and Falcon fell out, maybe? "I'm not sure."
He pivoted around and gazed out at the vast windows beyond the throngs of dancing people and the band, who was now tuning their instruments in preparation for the next song. With one source of noise's temporary absence, he didn't raise his voice as much to be heard over the other. "We killed the Heartless, and the mayor just decided out of nowhere to throw this party in our honor at the manor."
"And then Falcon had a fit about how it was on the other side of town, the mayor ignored it, and you followed us back to her house for dinner beforehand because your place is 'too far.'" At the last two words, Char raised her voice up a couple of octaves to mimic his own deep timbre and lifted her fingers for some mocking air quotes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I was there, too."
The blonde lowered his glass to the table with a clink and raised one eyebrow at her. "I was going to say that Riku went on the balcony to get some air, and Falcon's probably with him."
Char blinked. "Oh." However, she only allowed the directness of his explanation to surprise her for a moment before readjusting her composure. "Well, thank you for actually telling me," she muttered, biting into her dessert again. Dammit, this is good.
She swept past him. "Anyway, I'm going to go look for them. Hopefully the view is less lame than this party."
She tossed the last part over her shoulder mostly for her own benefit, because he was starting to smirk into the rim of his glass as he pressed it to his lips again.
Having left him behind, she surveyed the room, eyes narrowing at the cacophony; it had arisen anew, due to the party guests' having to adopt a dull roar to be heard over the music's resurgence. The redhead took another sizeable bite out of the food in her hand for something to do as she sought out the telltale head of gray hair. With Riku's current appearance, Char reflected dryly, at least he would be visible above the crowd.
Her gaze skirted over the brown-haired boy and redheaded girl she had spotted earlier; she allowed herself a moment to take in, with a surge of wistfulness so strong she almost gasped aloud, the sight of the young couple moving with breathless laughter out of the crowd, before she returned to the task at hand. This is stupid, she told herself firmly, self-annoyance dulling the sharpness of her search ever so slightly. You can't let every little thing remind you of him.
But she had thought she had left that ache behind yesterday, had thought her resolve had finally unpinned itself from under that pathetic sadness and prodded her to remember the mission. Find the machine, meet Sora at the World That Never Was, use the machine to destroy the remainder of the Organization, laugh at their triumph, and head back to Destiny Island.
Still… she didn't even know what Ansem had built the machine to do in the first place. The realization widened her eyes and impeded her focus for half a second – just half a second – before she continued looking around the room. She was forced to move almost mechanically when a group of people migrated over to the table for a food break, but remained in thought as she did so. Apparently Master didn't trust Riku enough to tell him exactly the purpose of what we're looking for, she reflected, and couldn't hold back a tiny sigh.
Apparently he doesn't trust either of us. Even though he's known me for eleven years, and Riku for almost a year and a half.
Maybe that was what struck her most, what sent a spike of bitterness driving deep into her heart: that after she had followed Ansem through hell and back, after she had agreed to take on this entire journey with Sora and effectively thrown her heart and life through a proverbial blender, he didn't trust her enough with even this.
Maybe that was when she realized Ansem had meant to carry out some parts of his vengeance by himself in the first place.
Surprisingly, the revelation stung much less than she had expected it to.
Before she could figure out exactly why, though, a movement from a little ways above the crowd's heads, shifting about to the music's rhythm as they were, drew her gaze. Relief settled inside her as she spotted Riku, elbowing his way past an undulating mass of laughing, talking people. In that action, he appeared directly in front of her, and his eyes widened as they met hers.
"You look like you're having fun," Char remarked, pushing the last morsel of food into her mouth when she finished the wry greeting.
Riku rolled his eyes, although a grateful little smile curled his lips. "Not really, but thanks for thinking that." He glanced around for a couple of seconds. "Have you seen Copperhead anywhere?"
Char frowned, folding her arms as she turned around. "He was just behind me a second ago…" She trailed off at the lack of overly pretty, Riku-like blonde hair and personal space violation, and her confusion deepened along with her frown. "Huh," she said. "Guess he went off to look for Falcon or something."
"He'll have fun with that," Riku chortled to himself. "She's off on the balcony on the other side of the ballroom." Although he sounded cheerful enough, a kind of wary inflection lurked in his words.
Char didn't have to wonder about that for very long; the answer as to why he felt that way became clear to her as soon as she chortled out an "oh" and gazed out the manor's wall-wide window for something to do. Because on this side of the room, the citadel's imposing spires and turrets were clearly visible.
She shivered in spite of herself, frustration at not knowing why Falcon and Copperhead avoided that place so much returning – especially because with her luck, that was where the Organization had hidden the machine, in the most obscure and dangerous part of the Shadowed Desert. That aggravation only amplified when she remembered she still didn't know why she was contemplating their reasons for skirting around it so much.
Riku must have caught her shoulders tensing and back stiffening in her annoyance, because he sighed, making her whirl around to raise an eyebrow at him. "What?" she asked, hoping to convey her complete unwillingness to explain herself to him in that single word.
Because keeping things bottled up has worked out so well for you in the past.
Those irritatingly-familiar amber eyes surveyed her a moment longer before Riku shook his head. "Nothing," he replied. He hesitated, as if contemplating explaining why Falcon had chosen that part of the building to enact her avoidance of all this, then seemed to accept that Char realized why and falling silent again.
They stood together for a few more moments, during which the current song wound down into a softer, slower cadence and the party guests moved into a swaying dance. The tiny pangs in the back of Char's skull died down just slightly at the lack of clashing noise, but she found herself dwelling less on that and more on the young man standing next to her. For some reason, seeing the eyebrow on the side of his head that she could see furrow just slightly replaced the minor, blooming headache with twinges of a whole new variety.
It took her a moment to call those twinges sympathy.
Normally she would have tried to push that feeling aside, but a year spent living with him, albeit spent without tilting her head back to meet his eyes and seeing turquoise once she did, had accustomed her to regarding everything that plagued him with anything other than detachment. Budding crush on him aside, she had grudgingly acknowledged her pitying his predicament with fighting darkness, and the pang of something beside jealousy at picking up wistfulness when he referred to Sora or Kairi.
Now, though, in light of everything he had done to her since physically surrendering to Xehanort's Heartless – making her promise to stay by Sora's side no matter what, then promptly forcing her to break that promise a month later – feeling anything other than the obligation to get back to Sora seemed odd to her.
Yet there it was, stark and painful as the day her feelings for Sora had first become clear to her.
She couldn't fathom why it would hurt, though.
Just as she was contemplating breaking the not-quite-silence between them, though, Riku turned to face her. "Char, there's something I've been wondering since I took you from the Land of Dragons. It's… kind of about why this whole thing's pissing you off so much."
Char tensed unconsciously. Oh crap, she thought, because she knew the exact question that was about to come out of his mouth and she hadn't prepared herself at all for this moment yet. Her heart had already flown to somewhere in the vicinity of her throat; that voice that demanded to know why her nails were biting into the fabric of her pants if it was just Sora's best friend was echoing more loudly than it ever had.
She braced herself for the question, almost hoping against hope that Copperhead would jump out from under the table, trailing his inane nickname for her behind a triumphant exclamation, and end this whole conversation before it even started. That alone should have indicated to her that she was worrying far too much about his reaction in the first place.
When Riku spoke, though, it still resonated inside her like a rock falling into the deepest part of a well – a despondent, fear-invoking sound – despite the fact that he left it fairly open.
"When I sent you off with Sora, did you… I mean, did he…?" Riku broke off here – whether it was deliberate or not remained unknown to her – and stared down at the ground.
Char hesitated, considered pleading ignorance. Gods, did she want to; every fiber of her being screamed to keep this inside, let it simmer and breathe and hover gently inside her mind until she had prepared herself well enough to let it emerge.
But she had had enough secret keeping from her friends with Sora. And so she ended up responding honestly, even though anxiety impeded her every word.
"I kissed him," she admitted, quietly. Riku leaned down to hear her, narrowed eyes flying wide almost comically as he picked up what she said.
"You what?" he whispered, apparently too shocked to muster up a good snarl. The low hiss all but dissolved, mist-like, into the wispy music floating up around them.
And then the surprise wore off, replaced by a slow, blazing fury. Now there's a more familiar expression on Xehanort.
"Char," he growled, "you know he loves Kairi." The reaffirmation of what he could never have sounded almost desperate, as if in just those three words Char had sent everything he knew as truth tumbling end over comforting end. "I know you spent more time fetching food from town than you did watching his memories, but even without that I told you as much. So why…?"
"Why would I mess up his moral compass like that?" Char finished for him, so matter-of-factly that Riku couldn't hold back a startled grunt. She sighed deeply, staring out at the star-spattered darkness that lay just beyond the window. The sky that, undoubtedly, Sora was watching as well. "Hell if I know. For the record," she added quickly, "I didn't seduce him or anything like that. For some stupid reason, he likes me just as much as I like him."
It was out, now – both the reason why she had reacted so violently to Riku stealing her away and her emotions toward Sora. In the back of Char's mind she understood that easily telling Riku how she felt about his best friend should perturb her a bit, but right now she could only focus on the strange freedom it brought.
The same feeling of freedom – of a weight having lifted from her shoulders – that had filled her and buoyed her heart up when she had explained her past to her friends.
Riku surveyed her a moment longer, emotions battling and tangling in an obvious manner in spite of the rigidness in his face. Incredulity, then contemplation, and then, finally resignation. "The balcony," he muttered.
Char blinked. "Okay? What about the –"
"Just out here." Already he was seizing her arm at the elbow and dragging her toward the open door. Char narrowed her eyes, pondered yanking herself out of his hold, but in the end decided he had a point.
Besides, his behavior was justified in light of what she had just told him.
"Would you like another cookie?"
"Huh?" Sora turned to see a rosy-cheeked, elderly woman extending a colorful plate to him, the bright palette of which was partially obscured by a pile of cookies. He lifted his face to meet the woman's gaze and couldn't hold back a smile at the beatific serenity that twinkled in her beady eyes, so much like her husband's. "Yeah, that sounds good, Mrs. Claus. Thanks."
The recently baked dough felt soft under his fingertips as he took the topmost cookie from the plate and bit into it; its flavor seeped into his taste buds, and he hummed at its rich taste.
"Good?" Mrs. Claus asked, tilting her round head as best she could with her girth.
Sora looked back up at her and grinned. "Amazing!" he declared, although the mouthful of cookie muffled his response ever so slightly.
Chew, Char ordered in his head then, and he quickly swallowed before continuing, even though the woman standing before him had not spoken. "I mean, they're really good."
Mrs. Claus smiled at that, reaching forward with her free hand to ruffle his hair. Since Donald had taken them back up to the Gummi ship to retrieve their main outfits earlier, the pumpkin mask did not hinder her as she patted Sora's head. "I had a feeling you would enjoy them."
The brunette blinked, moving away ever so slightly so strands of his unruly hair slipped out from beneath her fingers. As much as the gesture reminded him of what his mother would do back home, the reminder was also a painful one. "Did Santa tell you that?"
"Santa? Oh!" Mrs. Claus laughed, a sound whose ready amicability thoroughly reminded Sora of her husband's own patented chuckle. "Oh, no, no," she went on. One hand rested on her belly, as if to stave off amusement. "I just figured a boy like yourself must love cookies."
"Oh." The Keybearer's mild disappointment at being wrong faded instantly and he straightened up again. "Well, thanks." A beat, then his hunger became too much for him and he added eagerly, "Can I have another? Please?"
"Take as many as you want," Mrs. Claus invited, placing the plate onto the armrest. "I'm going to go watch for Santa."
"Watch for…? Oh yeah, isn't he getting the sleigh back from Jack?" Sora asked.
"Last we heard, yeah." Donald's voice from behind him made the boy turn just in time to see the duck ambling out of the hallway that led to the toy factory's main room. Close behind was Goofy, who kept casting glances over his shoulder at the candy cane-patterned doorway.
"Hello, boys," Mrs. Claus greeted. "I just baked another batch of cookies for you, if you'd like some."
Donald perked up at the promise of food, squawked out "Oh boy!" and made a beeline for the plate performing a balancing act at the edge of the armrest. Sora let out a cry of surprise and scooted to the other side of the chair, flattening himself against it as best he could, as the mage charged into a flying leap and landed stretched over the side of the chair.
"Slow down, Donald," Goofy berated his friend, though he sounded rather half-hearted. He dared move his arm toward the plate of doomed cookies long enough to snatch one for himself.
"Enjoy those cookies, you three. I'll be outside if you need me." With that, the portly woman opened the door and vanished into the snowy surroundings outside.
Once the tongue of deliciously warm air from outside was swallowed up by the air conditioning of Santa's house, Sora sat back in Father Christmas' chair, one leg crossed in front of the other. As Donald's frenzied feeding beside him died down into a much tamer munching noise, Goofy spoke. "Me and Donald were just checkin' out the toy factory."
"Really? How was it? The last time we were in there, we were making the toys as bait for the doctor's experiment. And before that, Oogie was trying to squash us, so I never really got a chance to check it out." Sora spoke the reminders of what had gone on in that room aloud mostly to distract himself from his unwelcome sympathy, which had resurfaced with a vengeance at mentioning the experiment.
It's nothing like the Organization, though. The Organization's trying to hurt people. Not intentionally, but still – they don't have hearts, so they don't care about what they're doing.
Yet the knowledge of Roxas – or perhaps even Roxas himself – begged to differ at that opinion.
"It was pretty great, a-hyuck," Goofy said with a grin that lit up his entire face. If he noticed the inner conflict about the Nobodies going on in Sora's head, he didn't mention it, which the by found himself immensely grateful for. "The elves had them conveyer belts going, and they kept putting stuff onto it with those machine claw things. When it came out of the holes, a bunch of toys were there."
"The head elf kept yelling to hurry up, though," Donald grumbled around a mouthful of cookie. He chewed a couple more times, then swallowed before addressing his leader. "Hey, Sora? I wonder how they made that new Keyblade."
Goofy's eyes widened, this time out of curiosity instead of awe. "Oh yeah, I was kinda wondering that too."
Sora looked down at his pocket and dug around for a couple of seconds. The ghost dog shape of this particular charm was still a bit unfamiliar to him – more difficult to find than the mouse head shape of the Kingdom Key, or the crescent moon of the Star Seeker – but soon his fingertips scraped against the Zero rendition's snout. He pulled out the Decisive Pumpkin's Keychain and gazed at it for a couple of seconds.
"It's Santa Claus, remember, guys?" he pointed out. "It makes sense that he knows what we need."
"Yeah, you're probably right. I was just wondering." Donald hopped down to the floor, apparently having gotten his fill. Not surprisingly, the plate whose surface had once supported Mrs. Claus' cooking now held only a couple of cookies.
Easily as the explanation had come to Sora, he found himself unable to wholeheartedly embrace it and accept it as truth. The words had emerged, child-like in their naïveté, believing Santa's omnipotence with everything they had. Sora had shared that belief, at least until Riku had pointed out the oddity of large man in a red suit delivering presents to the whole world in less than twelve hours.
However, the question as to how Father Christmas had managed to condense every bit of power and capability and compatibility with a wielder into that Keychain nagged at his thoughts. At least, he mused as he rubbed the pads of his fingers over the Zero-shaped charm, it felt right enough in his grip.
I'll just have to test it out tomorrow, he decided. A satisfied sigh escaped him as he wiggled down deeper into the chair; as it was built for a much wider shape than himself, he ended up stretching his legs out so his knees brushed the chair's outer sides.
The relaxation lasted only until it hit him how very Char-like his skepticism was.
Sora had missed Riku and Kairi when the darkness had first torn him away from them. It had sent Kairi into an effective coma and turned the wooden swords he had always used to spar with Riku into very real ones. The dull, gnawing ache that rent at his heart now reminded him thoroughly of how he had felt back then; however, he had had well over a year to become… not accustomed to the feeling regarding his two best friends, necessarily, but able to conceal it and let it carry him on.
Right now, he hadn't even had two days to allow determination to beat the sorrow aside and fling it into a dark corner of his heart.
To distract himself, he stared out the window to Christmas Town's main courtyard, watched snow mar the nighttime sky. Although the streetlights partially blotted out the stars above, the falling snow took vengeance for what their fiery fellows, trapped in the sky as they were, could not. They sprinkled the crimson stripes of the merry-go-round and the buildings of the houses along the street. Before this journey had begun, he had never seen snow in anything besides Christmas specials or movies.
Then another source of red entirely blotted out the window, and he nearly leapt up to summon his Keyblade before seeing the white-haired man climb out of the sleigh. Santa's scarlet garb nearly melted into the sleigh's own like color, but he distinguished himself when he leaned forward to give his approaching wife a peck on the cheek.
"Guys, Santa's back!" the brunette called, already jumping up to open the door and let Father Christmas in.
However, Santa had already cleared the window's view and taken one step past the threshold before the trio had so much as shifted toward the door. "Good evening, you three," he greeted. From his affable demeanor, Jack had relinquished the sleigh without much of a fight. Somehow, Sora got the feeling that had the skeleton pleaded for it, those eyes wouldn't twinkle quite so much.
Another record: he had never anticipated Santa growing annoyed, much less because of something like an animated, overzealous skeleton whose passion and fierceness belied his lack of flesh and muscle.
Santa's pupils flitted toward the empty plate as he crossed into the living room, allowing Mrs. Claus enough room to walk in behind him. "I see my wife baked you all some cookies."
Goofy nodded. "And they were real good, Mrs. Claus!"
While the woman modestly accepted both Goofy's and Donald's admiration, Sora's amusement died down after a couple of seconds. Much as he enjoyed watching the snow fall outside – amidst a climate saturated with warmth, rather than the appropriately-freezing air, like in the Land of Dragons – he couldn't help wishing his other friends were here to enjoy this with him.
Riku and I would probably be fighting over this chair, he thought with a tiny, rueful grin. And then Kairi would step in and just make us both sit in it. And Char…
His smile transformed into a contemplative frown, because not once before now had he ever had Kairi and Char in the same thought together – had never dared to, for fear of the implications it would stir about one or the other in his mind. However, now that he had accepted his heart's eye turning from Kairi to Char and soundly remaining on her, he found himself wondering how they would interact.
With Kairi's personality, he couldn't exactly picture her as a rival toward Char, even though the maroon-haired girl had most likely known how he had felt toward her at the end of their last journey. Heat rushed to Sora's cheeks at remembering when Kairi had handed him her good-luck charm in Traverse Town's tunnels and demanded, hands playfully situated on her hips, to bring it back.
Don't worry, I will, he had promised, in a voice so much different in timbre from now that present Sora brought a black-gloved hand to his throat.
And I'm still keeping that promise. Just… under different circumstances, is all.
He had to stifle a sigh at his next thought. Because he couldn't picture Kairi being angry when – when, when, he kept telling himself; not if – a strange redheaded girl showed up in the Organization's world claiming to possess his heart in front of her and Riku.
"Are you all right, Sora?"
Santa's voice sounded from right next to Sora's ear, and he turned in the chair to see the red-clad man eyeing him with concern. Behind him, Donald, Goofy, and Mrs. Claus watched as well, and the depth of worry in all three pairs of dark eyes reminded him he would never be alone all over again.
For an instant, the boy considered apologizing for occupying the chair and moving off as sluggishly as possible, but then sighed, defeated. Stalling for time wouldn't help now, anyway. "I'm fine, Santa, really. Just…" he paused; part of him insisted on fabricating some lie to divert the others' attention, but then his heart stepped in and demanded to know why that part thought it could avoid this.
"I'm just thinking about Char," he confessed.
Santa drew back and shook his head. "Ah, yes. I'd wondered where she had gone. The young lady who was with him last time," he explained to his wife, whose eyes widened in understanding and pity.
Sora looked to Father Christmas, who met his eyes fairly evenly, though not without guilt turning one corner of his mouth into his beard. It only took the brunette a moment to figure out why. "You don't know where she is, do you?"
His last hope at getting some kind of lead crashed, landing quite tangibly into his stomach somewhere near the last cookie he had eaten, when Santa shook his head. "I don't. I have yet to see where any of your friends are."
"Well, we know where Kairi and Riku are," Donald said from behind the elderly man, making him pivot around to look at him and Goofy. "That's a start." Even as the duck spoke, though, an earnest expression belied his brusque tone, one that told Sora without a hint of aggravation to push his disappointment aside.
He nodded. "Yeah, Donald, that's true," he said, with feeling.
"That's the spirit," Santa said, putting a hand on the Keybearer's shoulder. "All I can say for now is that carrying on isn't such a bad idea."
Sora's eyes widened. "So if we look for a way into the realm of darkness, we'll find everybody?"
The other man's only response took form in his smiling and turning away. "Dear, I'm going to feed the reindeer and put them in for the night," he called over his shoulder as he waddled toward the door.
"All right." Mrs. Claus turned her own bulky frame to appraise her husband as the door swung shut behind him with a solid noise. Although her back remained turned, anxiety curved her spine and made her feelings as clear as if the trio could see her face.
Then she made her way to the other chair beside the fire. Settling into it, she spoke. "Sora, Donald, Goofy," the three of them straightened to attention in turn as she uttered their names, "would you like to tell me a little more about your friends from your homes? After what just happened, I'm a little curious," she confessed.
The request made Sora blink, surprised. He exchanged glances with Donald and Goofy, as much out of curiosity as to whether or not this constituted meddling as to why Santa hadn't told his own wife his guests' pasts himself. Then again, Char was proof enough that some things needed to remain hidden.
When Donald gave a nod, though, Sora smiled and turned back to Mrs. Claus, who now looked more interested than ever.
"Well," he began, "my two best friends – Riku and Kairi – would go out with me to this island to play…"
Falcon leaned back against the balcony's rail, one leg crossed in front of the other and elbows resting on top of the rail. To the very few partygoers who had chosen the admittedly breathtaking view over the music whose emanation was still tangible from within the manor, the Keyblade-wielding girl had taken a deceptively casual stance.
However, those who bothered to follow her gaze would at least get an idea of why said emerald eyes were slitted and her forearms curled ever so slightly against the railing.
Riku bent down to Char's eye level then, and Falcon's elbows twitched. Despite the mass of people who would have normally hindered visibility, their movements had decreased substantially with the slower, almost nonexistent beat of this song; as a result, Falcon could see the dark-clad shape and the smaller, feminine one all too easily.
Her teeth found the inside of her cheek and worried it as that black coated arm shot out toward Char's bare one. Even from this distance, halfway across the manor ballroom, his fingers wrapping around the crook of her elbow drew Falcon's gaze and riveted it.
The feeling of her teeth pressing into her cheek was almost painful at this point.
As the gray-haired young man strode off toward the other side of the balcony with his burden in tow, Falcon at last tore herself away from the spectacle, though not without some difficulty.
She supposed following them would ease the bubbling jealousy that unsettled her belly and sent her recently-consumed dinner into convulsions. The balcony wrapped itself around this floor of the manor, so she could simply follow that path rather than risking wading through the crowd.
Or, worse, risking running into Copperhead.
Falcon snorted to herself, eyes rolling up to the night-tipped heavens. Doubtless, he was among those swaying to the now-waning music, working his so-called charm on some hapless, vacuous girl.
She didn't know whether the pang she felt arose from disgust or envy.
The thought petered off and the annoyance toward her heart's capriciousness along with it. It only took a couple of seconds for her to notice her focus was sliding steadily and worryingly toward where Char and Riku had disappeared.
Quickly, with a growl whose fervency made her extremely grateful that she stood alone out here, she wrenched her head away from it. Deciding she had tortured herself long enough, Falcon pivoted her entire body around, so her wrists could dangle over the edge.
In an attempt at diverting her attention from even brushing the thought of finding Riku, she gazed up at the sky, trying to pick out the tiny pinpricks of silver light. The lights emanating from the manor all but bled over the stars, but a bit of concentration allowed her to pick out a few bolder ones poking up from behind their stronger counterpart.
History class had taught her that each star symbolized a different world, hovering out there beyond the scattered clouds, and that whenever a star blinked out, that world had just succumbed completely to darkness. Remembering that particular lesson, Falcon fought back a shiver, one that seized her spine for a reason other than the newfound chill the storm had brought to the air.
Because the very night after she had learned that, her subconscious had plunged her into the very first dream of stained glass platforms and given her a weapon she had never wanted.
And it seemed no matter what direction her mind tried to take, it inevitably riveted itself back on Copperhead again; this time that annoying tendency manifested itself in recalling how he had found her practicing summoning her Keyblade in the glade just near the school courtyard.
I'm not gonna tell, he had promised that day. Rather than try and dispute him, though, as her reaction should have gone, she had felt herself become overwhelmed by relief… and the intrinsic reaction of trusting him to keep her Keyblade – and the destiny that came attached to it – a secret.
Now, though, four years and one love and two tragedies later, Falcon found herself wondering how things might have panned out had he not crept into the courtyard's shadows in search of her. I'd have my parents here, first of all. And Copperhead would still annoy me…
But not for the same reasons he does now.
Not for the much less petty reasons she had for abhorring his very name now.
As though just the very thought had summoned it, a disgustingly familiar voice slithered up from behind her and traced taunting fingers along her back.
"I'll be back in a sec. I just need to get some air."
The invisible fingers crawling along the curve of her spine were forced to change their angle as she stiffened. Her fingers, suspended in space over the driveway leading up to the manor as they were, curled into fists.
She heard a distinctly female, distinctly giggly voice tell him to hurry right back, to which the voice only rumbled out a chuckle and a promise to heed that. However, even though said voice's owner only now grew closer, his amusement sounded rather hollow.
Her nails dug into her palms in a way that made her regret having discarded the pale blue gloves she usually wore when honey-colored hair swayed in her periphery. If the artificial light radiating from both within and outside the manor hadn't lit and filled the newcomer's face, she might have tricked herself into thinking Riku had approached her intending to alleviate his boredom.
But the lights were there, and Riku had picked Char for that particular task instead of Falcon, and the person standing next to her wasn't nearly tall enough to be him.
Bitterness welled up deep within Falcon's chest, but she stuffed it back down into the deepest confines of her heart. Not in public, she firmly told her desire to whirl around and snap at him to go away.
As fate would have it, the man next to her let out an explosive sigh. A typical gesture for him, and yet she knew him well enough to notice it didn't carry its usual dramatic flourish. "Your latest victim falling for it, Nigel?" she asked, putting as much mocking emphasis on his real name as she could possibly manage.
While she didn't dare shift her eyes away from the stars and onto him, the groan that coiled out from him reverberated through the balcony railing nonetheless. "There is a reason I've got a nickname that I've had since I was little, Fal," Copperhead said.
Hesitation marked the moniker he had adopted for her so long ago, and out of the corner of her eye she caught his body tensing, as if bracing himself for her to satisfy the frustrated urge she had just repressed. She briefly considered letting out all her rage from the afternoon – first fiercely regretting her impulse to hug Riku the way she had, then Copperhead following her back home and effectively stealing all her strong coffee – but relented after a couple of seconds. Just the thought of snarling at him now exhausted her, for reasons she did not even want to touch long enough to explain.
So she just sighed and shifted in response to her ribs digging into the balcony's edge. "What do you want?" she muttered.
She could almost see him blinking in astonishment at her lack of apparent anger. Her fingers unwound just enough for her fingers to stretch and curl over the balcony railing, and allowed her nails to tap against its underside. It felt smooth and slender under her touch, almost like the Azure Ice's charm, and she took comfort from the familiar feeling.
Then his form shifted in her periphery. Before she could stop herself she had glanced over, just in time to see him settle in much the same position she had abandoned: back curved against the rail, elbows draped over it, one leg loosely crossed in front of the other, gaze focused on the people in the manor ballroom. "I was being honest. I really did need to get some air."
Although he kept his tone neutral enough, the sidelong glance he cut across at her suggested he was leaving more unsaid. It wasn't difficult for her to figure out what, she reflected with a very slight roll of the eyes. If he's expecting me to forgive him now, he can forget it.
She didn't realize she had spoken aloud until Copperhead snorted. "I wasn't out here for that, actually. Not everything I do is about you, you know," he added. The recently-faded crescent moon nail marks on Falcon's palms reappeared as her fists clenched again: not out of indignation, or even gratefulness, at his admission.
Because the way he tried to soften his words with an apologetic grin sent a bolt of fresh loathing into her heart.
You could've fooled me. This time, though, she managed to keep the thought fettered in the back of her mind and instead muttered, "Right."
Silence descended on the two of them, a silence that, disturbingly, comforted her more than the quiet music tracing incandescent fingers through the air did. Rather than eradicate the feeling, though, she chose to watch the sky again. Unbidden, the thought Riku's world used to be up there popped into her head, and she heard someone sigh.
Perplexed, she swung her head around, searching for the source, but Copperhead was eyeing her with just as much confusion as she felt. Oh. That was me.
Wasn't it?
"Anything wrong?" Copperhead had the gall to ask.
Of course there's something wrong, Falcon wanted to say. My parents are dead, I'm pretty sure my ability to feel anything other than anger and jealousy is gone, I hugged a guy who didn't even want me to hug him out of relief that his stupid stunt didn't get him killed, and, oh, lest we forget, you're here.
Aloud, though, she only said, "Yeah, I guess."
He had had a doubtful look on his face – one that suggested all of those things in her thoughts were obvious – and said doubt only intensified at her words. "Oh, come on," he teased, "you're not getting off that easily."
Rather than be amused by his tone, Falcon rolled her eyes. "I guess not," she muttered. "I… it's about Riku."
She saw Copperhead tense. Of course, she could almost hear him think. In the end, it always is.
Rather than even try to refute that, though, she barreled on, suddenly, desperately clawing back the need to tell someone – anyone – about the things she had kept inside her since Char had arrived. "I was okay – well, sort of – until Char got here. And suddenly, I had to allow for someone else, you know? I had to watch someone else in battle and make sure they didn't do anything stupid and make sure they didn't get hurt and – it was just a pain. And – and it didn't help that she was so familiar with him. Every single time I'd look over they'd have their heads bent close together or he'd have his hand on her shoulder and –"
Her voice broke, because just thinking about how Char had told her she felt nothing besides friendship toward Riku only confused her even more.
"So yeah," she continued, glowering fiercely out at the darkness and seeing all too many memories in their depths, "it's about Riku. I know Char told me she didn't like him like that, but it's hard to wonder whether or not he likes Kairi or whether he likes her in the end.
"And why shouldn't he? Char – she actually knew what to do against that Heartless today. She… she's this dual-wielding powerhouse, you know? And me?" Falcon gulped in a breath, for the last part had bubbled forth with the force of a dam being shattered and condensed itself all into one inhalation; took a couple more, not daring to acknowledge Copperhead watching with huge eyes in the background as she effectively whined out her insecurities at him. "I'm just this pathetic girl who can't get over the fact that her parents are dead and her best friend killed them."
It was out, then – the reason why the past had grown so painful to even touch on, the reason why she had built a wall between herself and the world. A wall that Riku's presence and friendship had already partially eroded, and that was crumbling in the face of her sorrow now.
Stupidly, all she could think was maybe I can feel something beside anger and jealousy after all.
Copperhead had taken in this outburst fairly silently, bearing the brunt of her repressed emotions with a detached aura so false she could feel it falling apart even from here. He reached forward, as if to pull her close, then just sighed and ended up pressing his hand against the top of her head.
Startled into blinking out a single tear, she could only look on, too stunned to move, as he kept his bare hand still on her. It was stupid that she wanted him to move it, to cup her head and pull her close.
Then he spoke.
"I won't lie and tell you it's okay. I heard that way too much right after… right after Dyme died. And I won't say I'm sorry, because I know it won't help at this point."
Falcon focused on breathing in and out instead of how very warm and familiar his fingers felt against her hair and said nothing.
"But," he went on, breath hitching and drawing the word into a tetchy hiss, "we're going to keep helping Riku and Char. It's what you want to do. And what I want to do. If you want me to leave you alone, that's fine. Just… never forget who you are and why I fell in love with you in the first place."
He dropped his hand then, locks of dark hair sliding out from between his fingers, and strode off back into the ballroom.
Falcon remained staring after him as the music played on.
"So," Riku began once the two of them had emerged onto the balcony, "you and Sora."
It wasn't a question so much as a confirmation, and Char acknowledged it as such, even while pulling her arm out of his hold. His amber eyes flicked down at the feeling of her tugging herself away from him; once he took in her slightly annoyed glare leveling to his, he quickly pushed his arm behind his back with a muttered apology.
Rather than acknowledge him, though, she merely stared out at the all-but-obscured stars. In spite of the fog of incredulity that had wreathed around his mind, he couldn't help wondering if she was seeking the Gummi ship's bright light marring the darkness. "Yeah," she said, so quietly he almost didn't hear it at first.
He leaned in closer, disbelief yanking him forward on proverbial puppet strings. The abruptness of the movement all but forced his nose into her hair, but he found himself not paying much attention to the discomfort it brought him and instead appraising her with a mixture of confusion and concern.
Confusion, for the obvious reason, and concern, because while he had seen a not-so-subtle change worked through her the entire time they had been in the Shadowed Desert, he hadn't figured it would do so to this extent.
"Sora?" he ended up repeating.
Char whirled on her heel and narrowed her eyes at him. Any semblance of peace, albeit tempered by longing, twisted up into anger that would have forced Riku to cringe away had he not faced down the darkness without blinking already. "Oh for the love of – for the last damn time, yes!" she hissed out.
Riku put up his hands in a placating manner. "All right, all right, I heard you," he said. A beat, during which she huffed and folded her arms to glare at a crack fissuring the balcony floor nearby, and he tried to gather his thoughts.
Then the silence, tempered by the gentle piano notes exhaling into the night air as it was, became too stifling for him, and he spoke again, the very first thing that came to mind spilling forth. "I just thought you had better taste in men, is all."
Apparently, his attempt at steering the conversation firmly away from her feeling the very thing that had propelled him into darkness last year – and, moreover, Sora returning that particular thing – fell sadly flat. Char immediately slumped her shoulders and growled to herself, frustration dripping off the noise and every move as she turned to glare back out at the sky again.
"Oh, calm down," he tried, albeit with a note of aggravation permeating his voice as well. "What exactly –"
"I knew you would react like this," she interrupted, voice just as venomous as his. "Oh, like what?"Riku flared up in return. Despite his promise to himself to keep his temper at a steady simmer no matter what Char said, said temper was beginning to strain at its chains and taint his better judgment. "In the way that makes sense? Sora's loved Kairi his entire life; why shouldn't I get a little confused about his suddenly changing his mind?"
"Things have changed, Riku." Char had seemed to have a full rant already planned, and yet her tone had calmed considerably from before.
He heard himself panting with the force of his ire, felt the force of that feeling just now release its hold on his heartbeat, but couldn't bring himself to halt either one. Because Char was right, things did change; the both of them were living proof of that.
And yet Sora changing his heart still felt wrong to Riku. So very wrong.
He shook his head, as if to clear his mind and eradicate just how perplexed he felt. Because amongst that disbelief, a glimmer of hope lit a blurry light in the fog, a light whose source he almost didn't want to place.
Char misinterpreted his gesture as disagreement and stepped closer, head tilting back to look at him properly. Is she seeing Riku, or Xehanort right now? he wondered.
"It's true. You've seen it in me already." She let out a self-deprecating chuckle, one bare hand sliding to tap a nervous rhythm against her thigh. A tendril of loathing reached up momentarily within him, toward her need to leave her gloves behind at Falcon's house. Falcon and Copperhead had opted out as well, but he didn't mind that near as much; somehow, the absence of Char's telltale green fingerless gloves made this more jarringly real.
"Your best friend's an idiot, by the way," she added, but the affectionate tinge that worked its way into her voice as she spoke made the insult an endearment. The pejorative she tacked onto the end of her declaration sounded practiced. As if she had spoken it so many times already.
"He's a dork, too. Him, and his friends both. But… you know, it's the damnedest thing. Wherever he went, he would just… light everything. I guess that everything kind of involved me, too."
Riku surveyed her a moment longer. She seemed sincere enough, even though before now her making this kind of speech would involve considerably more obscenities and fierce disclaimers thrown at the end of every tender admission.
But she had had a month, and comfort at the hands of a boy who didn't know how to give anything else, to muffle the bitterness and temper that had, before, shone forth like the skylight now blazing across the sky.
You're not lying. And I know Sora wouldn't, either.
For that, and everything else, he drew his arm around her shoulders and pulled her side close to his.
Char let out a surprised grunt as their hips bumped, and Riku winced at the underlying indignation in that surprise. After a couple of seconds, her tensed muscles finally relaxed, and the top of her head brushed the point where his jaw tapered up into his ear as she settled.
Together, they stared out into the darkness. Behind them, the band had stopped playing momentarily, and Riku heard the lead singer announce that after the next couple of songs, the party would end. The disappointed murmurs of the audience overtook the newfound silence; he focused on that instead of how very warm Char's back felt against his chest.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that shorter, darker hair tickled his biceps, and that the young woman who he had stopped in to Destiny Island to check in on more than frequently in the last year would smile in his embrace.
Riku shook this thought away. "I still can't believe Sora got his first kiss in before I did," he grumbled, taking refuge in a dry remark.
"Hm?" Char twisted up in his hold, then grinned as she took in his words. Any semblance of contentment faded in the face of amusement. "Oh yeah, that's true. It really wasn't everything they say it is, by the way," she added quickly. "Kind of awkward, actually."
Riku chuckled. Déjà vu; hearing her make light of something so important to her was lifting his spirits. Just like her sardonic words had done so many times over the past year. "Oh, really?"
"Yeah. I'm surprised he actually got my mouth on the first try." Her laughter soaked into his body, but rather than sounding spiteful, warmth and fondness infused the sound.
A few moments passed, during which Riku abruptly realized he still held Char fairly hostage. He hastily drew back. "Sorry."
One eyebrow lifted over an icy eye. "Don't make a habit of that."
He grinned. "Right, right."
Although the smile she returned looked relieved enough, he could clearly see slight regret in the way it faded and the way she turned to gaze out at the forest beyond the manor. Why she should regret that he had released her, he had no clue; however, catching how her eyes slid closed, he figured he had an idea.
Everyone needs a hug every once in a while. It was why he had embraced her just before she had left Twilight Town to go with Sora.
Her eyes opened then, and he followed her gaze, lifting his head to stare out at the citadel. Although the lights from the manor ebbed and bled into the nighttime shadows before it could touch the castle, he could still see the turrets rising up into the sky, stark and black as the sky that they touched.
Then Char spoke without turning to him. "You know the machine's probably out at the citadel, right? With our luck."
Riku blinked at the sudden change of subject to the very reason they had come out here in the first place. While it wasn't entirely unwelcome, its jarring nature forced him to allot a couple of moments to gather his thoughts. Once he did, he sighed ruefully. "With our luck, yeah, it is. I'd be lying if I said I'd never considered it. But Falcon's never taken me out there, as you know."
"Because whatever happened there, Falcon and Copperhead have too much PTSD to take us to the scene of the crime?" Char quipped.
The gray-haired young man let out a huffing, self-deprecating chuckle. "Yeah. Pretty much."
The corner of her lips that he could see from the side lifted just a bit, then she looked up at him, forearms shifting along the railing. Riku raised his eyebrows upon seeing the expression on her face: the conflict had returned in full force, and she seemed to struggle with herself a moment longer before sighing almost explosively. "Okay, I answered a question of yours, so I need one of my own answered."
"Sounds fair enough," he answered, though with measured curiosity in the words. He folded his arms and watched her straighten. "Ask away."
"Okay." Char took a deep breath and faced him. He tried to keep any undue predictions out of his mind and off of his tongue as she began. "I've just… been wondering why the whole thing with Falcon and Copperhead is bugging me so much."
"That's not really a question," Riku pointed out.
She simply rolled her eyes at him before correcting herself. "Okay, fine. Let me be politically correct," she grumbled irritably. A momentary pause, before her pride wilted even further and she all but blurted it out.
"Why am I so curious about what happened between the two of them?"
As the question burst free, Riku realized the careful neutrality on her features had changed to that of desperate curiosity. He wondered how long she had pondered over this question. Since yesterday, when Falcon had all but verbally ripped her open over a simple nickname? Since this morning, when Copperhead had handed Falcon her lunch and she had looked far too haunted over a simple meal?
Since her arrival here, when Copperhead had revealed they used to be friends in the first place?
Why, her question said, but her expression all but screamed it.
The music petered to a gentle melody in the background as Riku began to explain, words coming slowly as they completely skipped the journey to his mind and just emerged in reality.
"Char… maybe… it's because you care about what happened."
A startled grunt ripped itself from her as he finished. "But –" she began, completely flummoxed. She drew in breath to continue, then cut herself off with a growl. "I haven't even known either of them for two days. Why would I care about what happened between them?"
Yet even as she spoke, she knew Riku's words held more than a bit of truth to them. It explained why she had unconsciously found her old self in Falcon, and why Copperhead's antics from earlier had failed to annoy her as much as they should have.
"Well," Riku said – and his next words made her draw in a sharp breath that caught in her throat – "that's the funny thing about Sora, you know? He kind of… lets you care about people you normally wouldn't."
Char was still trying to catch her breath again when the guests began to clear out.
...God. I'll write a more coherent A/N when I'm not so tired.
EDIT: Due to people being assholes and not having the BALLS to show their faces, I'm disabling anonymous reviews. Nothing personal. I'm just sick of douchebags spewing insults and then dancing back to cower behind anonymity. To Mr. m/whatever the fuck your real name is: Sweetie, this is for you. :3
Please review saying more than "update soon" or "this is good."