Written 7 February 2007
Every heartless that slithered from beneath the ground was a prickling of the Darkness on Riku’s flesh. He did not need to see them to feel them, as far below him as they were, their lust turned on another being but still feeling like his own hunger, because even though black silk was wound about his eyes the shadows were brilliant against the back of his eyelids.
sora had always shone with his own light
The heartless surged in a wave towards a single, slight figure, hooded and cloaked and wielding the two keyblades with unconscious and innate talent, and the unnatural creatures dissipated in smoky wisps of black essence when the light-weapons tore apart their Dark shadow-flesh. Riku was used to the way that the heartless did not bleed when they died (again), and he had long ago grown accustomed to the acrid stench of the Darkness that clung to his clothing and skin like hedonism; sometimes he wondered if he were to cut himself, whether he would bleed red or black.
There was always a calm before the storm, a moment when the winds were sucked backwards in breath-stealing anticipation for the few seconds before heaven’s fury struck. Now, he could feel the winds’ sharp intake of exhilaration, of expectancy, on top of the Watchtower of Naught. In front and below him was his quarry, the other half of the soul-puzzle that would lead to the end of all this; behind him was pain, and screams, and terror. He supposed there was not much difference between the two, the potential future and the mistaken past, not really.
then that light was divided in two—one part went to darkness and the other went forgotten by all the rest
Then his quarry (he refused to call him roxas because it was s-o-r-a with an x and riku had never ever forgotten sora not even when it would have hurt less to do so) looked up at him, looked all the way up past the yellow neon lights and the yellow heartless eyes, and it took Riku a moment to realize that the strange motion on his own face was a bitter smile.
Riku had bound his eyes because he was ashamed of what he had become, but there was another reason, too—if one wanted to see the Darkness, one need only close his eyes. And when it was just you in your head, it was hard to hide from all the silly, petty, human flaws with hooked rings and sharp teeth that burrowed into your heart and made it poison, and Riku knew better than most what could come of letting that poison spread unseen.
His quarry had turned towards him, was fighting his way towards him. Riku knew despite not seeing him, because his quarry was a bright light of Nothing in his sightlessness, like a firefly in the night.
The Darkness laughed velvet- and silk-like in his ear. Once upon a time in a far-away world, it had sent shivers of sin down his spine, but though it now made his skin crawl he could ignore it with steady apathy (he had already followed its promises and found nothing but oblivion behind them). It, the Darkness, It whispered in his ear, and It whispered weak you’re a weak and frightened child that forgot where he kept the light and it sounded like An—that man had sounded, felt the way that man’s hands had felt on his body and on his mind.
But Riku had not lost the light, he had simply misplaced it for a while, and now it was time to find it again.
His quarry was near, even nearer, and suddenly It no longer mattered. The bitter smile was born again and Riku tilted his head towards the rain, maybe hoping it would lessen the musk of the Dark that had become such an integral part of him, maybe not. But the rain was cool, and clean, and in the space behind the silk over his eyes, it looked like bursts of starlight against midnight. Soon, perhaps, the sun would rise somewhere, and the sky would turn blue again.
and sora would wake up and riku would know that sora would finally leave the nightmare, even if riku himself had become too much a part of the nightmare himself to ever leave; but that would be all right because as long as sora was safe then riku cared about nothing else
So he let himself fall (again and again) with the Dark thick in his nose and heavy on his flesh and heart, blinding his sight, reaching and grasping for the soul that balanced precariously between It and the light; and the wind finally exhaled into his ears as he fell, drowning out that man’s voice, and that man’s touch—
His quarry’s eyes were (sora’s) blue and ice and hollowness, but Riku knew that the sky and the dawn often came away from darkness with a frost.
—and when the wind was released from its expectant breathlessness, the prodigal sons of the Darkness and Oblivion were met with heaven’s storm.-