(no subject)

[aeternitasbeach.livejournal.com]

Title: feeling strangely fine
Challenge: non-challenge fic 
Word Count: 557


A/N: Got back to playing/finishing the game after a long time and this is what happened. Written entirely to the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra’s wonderful version of Passion.

Disclaimer: not mine.

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feeling strangely fine

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It is surprisingly much easier now than ever before to lie in the sand with fingers entwined, dreaming dreams of something neither solid not tangible but of something resembling more of a feeling than anything else.
Something simple...
Riku is always the first to shift, moving closer, to share the warmth and something more. And Sora never fails to tighten his grasp on the other boy’s hand. Something about the fear of slipping away and letting the other slip away makes him cling back like this every time.
Not this time, he prays. Never, ever, ever again.
Kairi lies where she first set herself on the sand, eyes closed and still somehow aware. With one hand in Sora’s, she knows that something is happening—had started happening long ago—but the symptoms have become more apparent before her eyes only recently, not long after her two friends came home.
This time they returned together.
Though she will never know the full extent of it, it is not so hard to sense that that an unspoken promise had been made, and after all, they were nothing but keepers to their core.

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Sometimes, Sora still visits that secret place.
The walls of the cave and the chalk drawings of children feeding each other stars never ceases to remind him of the childhood dreams that
accompanied them, dreams of things that seemed so simple and easy back then. Like friends-forever and paopu fruit and eternal love and on and on...
Looking back now, he knows that he’d been very young when he came up with the works of art—thinking himself half in love with Kairi and incomplete without her—young enough not to have realized that one person could not complete him and he was unusual in that way. He needed two.
Somehow, and perhaps sometime when he’d had his back turned, Sora’s two best friends had been toying with the pieces of his heart that were given to them for safekeeping.
Somewhere along the way, be it by pure chance or accident, the larger piece was no longer where he had left it.
Instead, he found it under Riku’s care one day, and vaguely wondered why it did not feel strange at all.

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“Sora...” he says. Not once, no, but every time with the same richness in his voice, suggesting that there is more to say once he gets past the name.
Sora, thank you. Sora, let’s just stay here. Sora, make me forget. Sora, Sora, Sora...
A lot of the time, he would say it for no reason other than the fact that the sound of the name had once been nothing short of a prayer. Now, he finds that he cannot say it enough.
Today it is something along the lines of: Sora, look at me.
And he hasn’t said it so much as thought it when abruptly enough, Sora obeys with a jerk of the head, a smile that could never contain itself, and blue eyes shining so bright that they leave Riku more than a little dizzy even now.
“You’re staring, Riku,” the brat points out, the winning smile replaced by a cheshire grin. “Not that I mind.”
“Sora,” Riku repeats himself, feeling a little less poetic this time, “shut up.”
“Make me.”
And Riku lets out his you-leave-me-no-choice-sigh and complies.

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fin

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(line up the pieces, yours and mine)