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kinkfest2008-06-07 03:15 pm
anime-angel-ash.livejournal.com) wrote in kinkfest2008-06-07 03:15 pm
Entry tags:
Waiting Game (Kingdom Hearts II, Kairi/Riku, PG)
Title: Waiting Game
Author: anime_angel_ash
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers for both the Kingdom Hearts games
Word count: 2752
Prompt: June 7 - Kingdom Hearts: Riku/Kairi: unconditional love- “You’ve been through a lot of pain in the dirt/and I know you’ve got the scars to prove it.”
Summary: Kairi's been waiting for him, because that's what friends do. But he hasn't gotten any better, and her patience has worn thin.
A/N: I'm more pleased with the ending of this one than I am with the beginning. There's something...odd about it. Hopefully it's just my imagination. Please enjoy!
“They who go Feel not the pain of parting; it is they Who stay behind that suffer.”
Henry Watson Longfellow
“Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting. That is laziness. But to keep going when the going is hard and slow - that is patience.”
Anonymous
---
This time, she was going to be ready for him.
This wasn’t exactly the nicest hiding place Kairi had ever been. Dark, clammy, and not much to see thanks to the giant boulder blocking most of the entrance. Frankly, she could think of somewhere near a million places she'd rather be right now, and they wouldn't be that hard to get at. Still, she stayed resolute; he’d be coming by soon, and she was done being patient with him. He’d been avoiding her all week, all month now, and she was sick of it.
She hadn’t minded it at first (or maybe ‘minded’ wasn’t the right world; she’d accepted it, forgiven it, all that stuff that friends do) because she knew that both of them needed it. Sora, Riku, they’d been through a lot while she’d been stuck here, waiting for them to come home. After sealing almost every world in the galaxy, defeating Organization XIII, and almost getting lost in the darkness (thinking about that always made her shiver, and she was incredibly glad that they had managed to find some way back), it only made sense that peaceful island life would seem bizarre to them. It made sense that it would take them a while to come back to themselves, and it made sense that they wouldn't be giving her too much attention while it happened. So she waited, because that's what friends do, and she was already pretty good at it anyway.
Sora didn’t take long to recover. He’d barely been back two days before she’d caught him flailing at the tiny silver fish in the shallows and getting soaked to the bone. She could definitely say that the moment she tackled him into the surf, squealing and laughing like a crazy person while he sputtered for air—and, like a gentleman, tried to keep her from drowning—was one of the best of her entire life.
She’d known from the start that Riku was going to take longer. He’d always been grumpier than Sora, broodier, took longer to adjust and readjust to new things (like when she’d first show up, he’d ignored her until one day when she’d tripped and faceplanted into the sand, and he’d grudgingly helped her up). So, she wasn’t surprised when, for the first few days after their return, Riku kept to himself, avoiding everyone else and constantly wanting to spend way too much time alone.
Though Kairi wanted nothing more than to sneak up behind the grump and tickle him until he flipped her over and gave her a piece of her own medicine, she made sure to let him be. She stood quietly by when he wandered away, alone, to quieter parts of the island without a word to anyone. She forced back the unpleasant feeling in her stomach when he remembered something important that he had to do somewhere else, particularly whenever she tried to talk to him. She waited, because she knew he’d be okay soon enough, and because that’s what friends do.
But then, he wasn’t okay. He kept not talking to her for weeks, kept avoiding her eyes and retreating after ten seconds of non-committal nods whenever she tried to goad him into a conversation. “He just…he said he still feels weird around us,” Sora explained to her on one occasion, rubbing the back of his head with that utterly unsubtle, Soraish charm. Then, smiling that big smile that she’d missed so badly, he added, “He’ll be okay, Kairi. Don’t worry about him.”
Kairi was glad he tried and all, really she was. Still, she knew better. Riku didn’t feel weird around, 'us'. He and Sora had fought against Xemnas together, braved the darkness. Riku didn’t feel weird around Sora anymore. He only felt weird around her.
And that was why she was here, hiding in this icky, cold, sandy cave, waiting for him to show up.
It wasn’t until the sun was setting, painting the sky a mess of orange and purple and red (and throwing her hiding place completely into shadow behind the boulder that hid her, making it even colder and darker than before), that her patience finally paid off. Just as she was about to throw her arms up and abandon her post in favor of a hot shower back home, the old wooden door at the other end of the cove opened, the hinges screeching like a dying seagull. Flinging her wide-eyed self down with all the grace of a Large Body, Kairi curled up tight behind the boulder, barely daring to breathe as she listened for his footsteps.
A second ticked by, a minute, the sand that was slowly flowing into her shoes almost working as a makeshift timer. Then, just as the sand had finished with her shoes and was unfortunately starting to sneak up her skirt, an abnormally long shadow passed before the cave; he was finally here.
After pausing for a moment to let him get ahead—right out in the open, where he couldn’t make a hasty retreat—Kairi slowly stood and, careful not to make any noise, started to tiptoe after him.
It’d been a long time since she’d seen him relaxed. Whenever she was around, he always stood stiff, fidgeted anxiously, looked awkward and quietly uncomfortable. Now, though, even with ten big Riku steps separating them, Kairi could see the looseness in his shoulders, the casual way he walked. While he didn’t look completely carefree (the way he slowly touched the trunk of one of the trees, running his hand over it thoughtfully, practically screamed that he was thinking broody thoughts) he still seemed calmer, more at ease. As good as that was to see, Kairi couldn’t help the way the sight pricked at her heart.
It didn’t last long, though. After spending the last two years alone, relying only on himself for protection, and fighting creatures that had a nasty habit of popping up right behind a person and slashing their back open, Riku had gotten extremely good at being attentive. To him, Kairi’s quiet tiptoeing was probably the equivalent of a wrecking machine tearing through the island. So, it wasn’t too much of a surprise—disappointing, distressing, but not a surprise—when all that tranquility shot straight out of him and he turned, meeting her with a dismayed gaze (and the pricking got that much worse). However, he covered it up quickly enough, his expression going back to neutral even as his body grew undeniably tenser. In return, as little as she felt like doing it, Kairi put on a smile and waved like this was some sort of pleasant chance encounter. “Hey, Riku!”
He wasn’t fooled, of course; even Sora wouldn’t have fallen for that one. This was a tense situation, however, and like her, his possible responses were ridiculously limited. “Hi.”
“What’re you up to?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“Oh, I was just...wandering. I found some shells below the bridge.” She turned, pointing toward said bridge—the nervous roiling in her stomach made a convincing argument that he needed a lesson on the layout of their childhood home. “They should make a nice necklace. I’m surprised you didn’t see me, actually.”
“Right.” Tapping his fingers against his leg the same way Sora always rubbed the back of his head, Riku slowly turned, looking toward the sunset. Almost instantly, Kairi could feel dread slowly twisting her insides; she knew what was coming next. “It’s getting late,” he said, just like she knew he would. Side-stepping, he started by her, not even sparing her a glance. “I guess I’ll see you—”
But he wouldn’t. She knew it. He’d avoid her, talk to Sora and Selphie and Tidus and Wakka and leave her, wouldn’t even look at her if he didn’t have to. He wouldn’t see her. That was why, as he walked past her, headed for that creaky wooden door with a terrifying sort of finality, she gave up on any and all notions of tact and grabbed his hand. “Wait.”
She didn’t have to see his face to know that this was killing him. She could feel it, even through the tips of his fingers; this was torture. Complete and utter torture. Still, he did what she wanted (needed, really) and turned toward her.
“Riku,”—she took his hand in both of hers, deliberately ignoring the unpleasant way it twitched back—“is something wrong?” Slowly, she glanced down, watching her own feet shuffle as she nervously fiddled with his hand. “You haven’t been talking to me. Did I—”
“No.” His answer was quick, almost immediate. That was kind of good, at least. That meant he meant it.
“Then Riku,” she said, her cool swiftly slipping as she looked up into his eyes and squeezed his hand tighter, making him flinch, “what’s going on? Why haven’t you been talking to me?”
He shook his head sagely, pretty hair swishing and face solemn like he knew something she didn’t, something she could never understand (and almost instantly, there was a burning in her stomach, and her eyes narrowed). “It’s nothing,” he answered, oh-so-helpfully, then turned, trying to pull his hand away.
“Riku!” She jerked it back, all fire and frustration with a little bit of desperation hiding in there somewhere. She’d had enough. She’d put up with his leaving long enough, his half-answers that never really meant anything and just left her feeling more confused and hurt than before. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Kairi,”—shoulders sagging and voice clipped, he turned, putting his other hand on hers and twitching in annoyance when she held on even tighter—“it’s not you. You didn’t do anything.”
“Then why won’t you talk to me?”
She almost wanted him to stay angry. It wasn’t any fun, being at the business end of one of his glares, but there were worse things. At least this way, she knew he was paying attention to her. So when he sighed deeply, pulling all that irritation back in and leaving her with only his blank, indifferent self, Kairi couldn’t help but want to scream.
Slowly, he glanced up at the sky, now so far away she’d never make it to him, even as she held tight to his hand. “I’ve caused a lot of people pain, Kairi.”
He’d already plucked her hand off of his before the words had really sunk in, and was walking away before she’d even seen him move. Then, she simply stood there, watching him go, his words batting around inside her mind and suffocating every other thought she might have had. He’d caused—and she was—and that was why—that was why he—
Kairi blamed him for her response. Maybe, if his words hadn’t taken up so much space in her head, she might have been able to rethink what she was doing, calm herself down, and think rationally. But there wasn’t enough space to think clearly, and not enough time. So really, it was all his fault that, before he’d even made it past her hiding place, she came crashing down on his shoulders, skinny limbs flailing and clinging.
Despite the way he shouted in surprise (and after barely getting a growl out of him all this time, that filled her with a sweet, sweet feeling of vindication) and nearly overbalanced, that wasn't enough to take him down. As strong as he was—as small as she was—he probably could’ve gone days with her on his back without so much as sagging. So, when his feet crossed in the midst of his flailing and yelling at her (there was the Riku she missed) and sent the both of them tumbling uncomfortably to the sand, she couldn’t help but feel like a tiny part of him was on her side.
Not wasting a second, she skittered off of him and grabbed his shoulder, flipping him over after a try or two. Then, she was right back on him, one knee on either side of his waist, glaring into his utterly shocked eyes with bright green ones full of determination.
“Kairi, what the—!” he yelled, too flabbergasted to be angry or sage, before she poked him, hard, in the stomach.
“Here,” she said, all business, “you’ve got a scar where Sora slashed you during your fight in Hollow Bastion. Ansem was using you to try and kill us, but he stopped you. And right here,”—his side that time, right by her knee, and he twitched inadvertently—“you’ve got a scorch mark where Maleficent accidentally burned you during training. Here,”—the shoulder, and he was staring at her like she’d gone completely crazy—“you’ve got another scar where one of the villains stabbed you because you were being mouthy. And here,”—her finger landed right between his eyes, and she might have laughed at the way they crossed to follow it if she hadn’t been trying to make a point—“is where you have a very stupid idea.”
Yeah, he definitely thought she was crazy. Mouth hanging open a bit and sand sticking to his eyebrows, it was pretty clear he didn’t know what to make of this. Leaning down, she looked him straight in the eye, and she had to clench her teeth to keep from losing it completely. “I know you did bad things, Riku,” she said, the words tasting of bitterness and love, like a million summers' worth of bad fruit. “Sora may have seen it, but I know, too. I wasn’t there, but I . . .”
She had to turn away for a second, put all the words together in her head so that they came out right and didn’t drive him even further away. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, and he was still staring at her, probably picturing that new, homesick girl from a long time ago with scraped knees and a muddy face. That comparison didn’t work very well anymore, though; now she was the girl who got stuck at home—after causing her friends unbelievable trouble—with welts on her pretty little princess heart (that was probably how the darkness got in, like a disease).
Thankfully, the words came easily enough. Turning back to him, she smiled, shaky but never uncertain. “It’s okay, Riku,” she cooed. “That’s not you. You—you’d never hurt Sora or me. We know you wouldn’t.”
“Kairi—” he started, and she could tell he was about to argue. Tell her that she didn’t understand, that he was dangerous, that he was dark.
“You’ve always protected me, Riku,” she said, fast, because she wasn’t going to let him get away. “From Maleficent and Ansem and Organization XIII. You always took care of me. Thank you.”
He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He watched her, narrowed eyes scrutinizing her, looking for the pretty lie in her pretty face. In answer, she smiled that much more. “It’s okay, Riku,” she repeated, leaning closer. “Sora thinks so, and I do, too. We’re your friends, Riku. We’ll always love you.”
Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, sand and all (friends don’t care if you’re sandy). Riku blushed in response, because that’s what sixteen-year-old boys do, no matter how cool they thought they were. Behind that, though, was something like relief, or cautious optimism. Though it wasn’t exactly the absolute belief that she’d been hoping for, she’d take it.
Slowly crawling off of him (with a bit of useless help, his hands following her to make sure she didn’t fall over, and wasn’t he just the gentleman) and pushing herself to her feet, she held a hand out to him, smiling. Cautious optimism would be fine, she decided as he took it and she pulled him to his feet. Now that he saw it was okay—and believed it now, she could tell, in that light-filled heart of his—it would all be all right. She could work with that. She could be patient a little bit longer.
She’d go ahead and love him—she snatched up his hand, held it tight as they left the cove together—because that’s what friends do.
Author: anime_angel_ash
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers for both the Kingdom Hearts games
Word count: 2752
Prompt: June 7 - Kingdom Hearts: Riku/Kairi: unconditional love- “You’ve been through a lot of pain in the dirt/and I know you’ve got the scars to prove it.”
Summary: Kairi's been waiting for him, because that's what friends do. But he hasn't gotten any better, and her patience has worn thin.
A/N: I'm more pleased with the ending of this one than I am with the beginning. There's something...odd about it. Hopefully it's just my imagination. Please enjoy!
“They who go Feel not the pain of parting; it is they Who stay behind that suffer.”
Henry Watson Longfellow
“Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting. That is laziness. But to keep going when the going is hard and slow - that is patience.”
Anonymous
---
This time, she was going to be ready for him.
This wasn’t exactly the nicest hiding place Kairi had ever been. Dark, clammy, and not much to see thanks to the giant boulder blocking most of the entrance. Frankly, she could think of somewhere near a million places she'd rather be right now, and they wouldn't be that hard to get at. Still, she stayed resolute; he’d be coming by soon, and she was done being patient with him. He’d been avoiding her all week, all month now, and she was sick of it.
She hadn’t minded it at first (or maybe ‘minded’ wasn’t the right world; she’d accepted it, forgiven it, all that stuff that friends do) because she knew that both of them needed it. Sora, Riku, they’d been through a lot while she’d been stuck here, waiting for them to come home. After sealing almost every world in the galaxy, defeating Organization XIII, and almost getting lost in the darkness (thinking about that always made her shiver, and she was incredibly glad that they had managed to find some way back), it only made sense that peaceful island life would seem bizarre to them. It made sense that it would take them a while to come back to themselves, and it made sense that they wouldn't be giving her too much attention while it happened. So she waited, because that's what friends do, and she was already pretty good at it anyway.
Sora didn’t take long to recover. He’d barely been back two days before she’d caught him flailing at the tiny silver fish in the shallows and getting soaked to the bone. She could definitely say that the moment she tackled him into the surf, squealing and laughing like a crazy person while he sputtered for air—and, like a gentleman, tried to keep her from drowning—was one of the best of her entire life.
She’d known from the start that Riku was going to take longer. He’d always been grumpier than Sora, broodier, took longer to adjust and readjust to new things (like when she’d first show up, he’d ignored her until one day when she’d tripped and faceplanted into the sand, and he’d grudgingly helped her up). So, she wasn’t surprised when, for the first few days after their return, Riku kept to himself, avoiding everyone else and constantly wanting to spend way too much time alone.
Though Kairi wanted nothing more than to sneak up behind the grump and tickle him until he flipped her over and gave her a piece of her own medicine, she made sure to let him be. She stood quietly by when he wandered away, alone, to quieter parts of the island without a word to anyone. She forced back the unpleasant feeling in her stomach when he remembered something important that he had to do somewhere else, particularly whenever she tried to talk to him. She waited, because she knew he’d be okay soon enough, and because that’s what friends do.
But then, he wasn’t okay. He kept not talking to her for weeks, kept avoiding her eyes and retreating after ten seconds of non-committal nods whenever she tried to goad him into a conversation. “He just…he said he still feels weird around us,” Sora explained to her on one occasion, rubbing the back of his head with that utterly unsubtle, Soraish charm. Then, smiling that big smile that she’d missed so badly, he added, “He’ll be okay, Kairi. Don’t worry about him.”
Kairi was glad he tried and all, really she was. Still, she knew better. Riku didn’t feel weird around, 'us'. He and Sora had fought against Xemnas together, braved the darkness. Riku didn’t feel weird around Sora anymore. He only felt weird around her.
And that was why she was here, hiding in this icky, cold, sandy cave, waiting for him to show up.
It wasn’t until the sun was setting, painting the sky a mess of orange and purple and red (and throwing her hiding place completely into shadow behind the boulder that hid her, making it even colder and darker than before), that her patience finally paid off. Just as she was about to throw her arms up and abandon her post in favor of a hot shower back home, the old wooden door at the other end of the cove opened, the hinges screeching like a dying seagull. Flinging her wide-eyed self down with all the grace of a Large Body, Kairi curled up tight behind the boulder, barely daring to breathe as she listened for his footsteps.
A second ticked by, a minute, the sand that was slowly flowing into her shoes almost working as a makeshift timer. Then, just as the sand had finished with her shoes and was unfortunately starting to sneak up her skirt, an abnormally long shadow passed before the cave; he was finally here.
After pausing for a moment to let him get ahead—right out in the open, where he couldn’t make a hasty retreat—Kairi slowly stood and, careful not to make any noise, started to tiptoe after him.
It’d been a long time since she’d seen him relaxed. Whenever she was around, he always stood stiff, fidgeted anxiously, looked awkward and quietly uncomfortable. Now, though, even with ten big Riku steps separating them, Kairi could see the looseness in his shoulders, the casual way he walked. While he didn’t look completely carefree (the way he slowly touched the trunk of one of the trees, running his hand over it thoughtfully, practically screamed that he was thinking broody thoughts) he still seemed calmer, more at ease. As good as that was to see, Kairi couldn’t help the way the sight pricked at her heart.
It didn’t last long, though. After spending the last two years alone, relying only on himself for protection, and fighting creatures that had a nasty habit of popping up right behind a person and slashing their back open, Riku had gotten extremely good at being attentive. To him, Kairi’s quiet tiptoeing was probably the equivalent of a wrecking machine tearing through the island. So, it wasn’t too much of a surprise—disappointing, distressing, but not a surprise—when all that tranquility shot straight out of him and he turned, meeting her with a dismayed gaze (and the pricking got that much worse). However, he covered it up quickly enough, his expression going back to neutral even as his body grew undeniably tenser. In return, as little as she felt like doing it, Kairi put on a smile and waved like this was some sort of pleasant chance encounter. “Hey, Riku!”
He wasn’t fooled, of course; even Sora wouldn’t have fallen for that one. This was a tense situation, however, and like her, his possible responses were ridiculously limited. “Hi.”
“What’re you up to?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“Oh, I was just...wandering. I found some shells below the bridge.” She turned, pointing toward said bridge—the nervous roiling in her stomach made a convincing argument that he needed a lesson on the layout of their childhood home. “They should make a nice necklace. I’m surprised you didn’t see me, actually.”
“Right.” Tapping his fingers against his leg the same way Sora always rubbed the back of his head, Riku slowly turned, looking toward the sunset. Almost instantly, Kairi could feel dread slowly twisting her insides; she knew what was coming next. “It’s getting late,” he said, just like she knew he would. Side-stepping, he started by her, not even sparing her a glance. “I guess I’ll see you—”
But he wouldn’t. She knew it. He’d avoid her, talk to Sora and Selphie and Tidus and Wakka and leave her, wouldn’t even look at her if he didn’t have to. He wouldn’t see her. That was why, as he walked past her, headed for that creaky wooden door with a terrifying sort of finality, she gave up on any and all notions of tact and grabbed his hand. “Wait.”
She didn’t have to see his face to know that this was killing him. She could feel it, even through the tips of his fingers; this was torture. Complete and utter torture. Still, he did what she wanted (needed, really) and turned toward her.
“Riku,”—she took his hand in both of hers, deliberately ignoring the unpleasant way it twitched back—“is something wrong?” Slowly, she glanced down, watching her own feet shuffle as she nervously fiddled with his hand. “You haven’t been talking to me. Did I—”
“No.” His answer was quick, almost immediate. That was kind of good, at least. That meant he meant it.
“Then Riku,” she said, her cool swiftly slipping as she looked up into his eyes and squeezed his hand tighter, making him flinch, “what’s going on? Why haven’t you been talking to me?”
He shook his head sagely, pretty hair swishing and face solemn like he knew something she didn’t, something she could never understand (and almost instantly, there was a burning in her stomach, and her eyes narrowed). “It’s nothing,” he answered, oh-so-helpfully, then turned, trying to pull his hand away.
“Riku!” She jerked it back, all fire and frustration with a little bit of desperation hiding in there somewhere. She’d had enough. She’d put up with his leaving long enough, his half-answers that never really meant anything and just left her feeling more confused and hurt than before. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Kairi,”—shoulders sagging and voice clipped, he turned, putting his other hand on hers and twitching in annoyance when she held on even tighter—“it’s not you. You didn’t do anything.”
“Then why won’t you talk to me?”
She almost wanted him to stay angry. It wasn’t any fun, being at the business end of one of his glares, but there were worse things. At least this way, she knew he was paying attention to her. So when he sighed deeply, pulling all that irritation back in and leaving her with only his blank, indifferent self, Kairi couldn’t help but want to scream.
Slowly, he glanced up at the sky, now so far away she’d never make it to him, even as she held tight to his hand. “I’ve caused a lot of people pain, Kairi.”
He’d already plucked her hand off of his before the words had really sunk in, and was walking away before she’d even seen him move. Then, she simply stood there, watching him go, his words batting around inside her mind and suffocating every other thought she might have had. He’d caused—and she was—and that was why—that was why he—
Kairi blamed him for her response. Maybe, if his words hadn’t taken up so much space in her head, she might have been able to rethink what she was doing, calm herself down, and think rationally. But there wasn’t enough space to think clearly, and not enough time. So really, it was all his fault that, before he’d even made it past her hiding place, she came crashing down on his shoulders, skinny limbs flailing and clinging.
Despite the way he shouted in surprise (and after barely getting a growl out of him all this time, that filled her with a sweet, sweet feeling of vindication) and nearly overbalanced, that wasn't enough to take him down. As strong as he was—as small as she was—he probably could’ve gone days with her on his back without so much as sagging. So, when his feet crossed in the midst of his flailing and yelling at her (there was the Riku she missed) and sent the both of them tumbling uncomfortably to the sand, she couldn’t help but feel like a tiny part of him was on her side.
Not wasting a second, she skittered off of him and grabbed his shoulder, flipping him over after a try or two. Then, she was right back on him, one knee on either side of his waist, glaring into his utterly shocked eyes with bright green ones full of determination.
“Kairi, what the—!” he yelled, too flabbergasted to be angry or sage, before she poked him, hard, in the stomach.
“Here,” she said, all business, “you’ve got a scar where Sora slashed you during your fight in Hollow Bastion. Ansem was using you to try and kill us, but he stopped you. And right here,”—his side that time, right by her knee, and he twitched inadvertently—“you’ve got a scorch mark where Maleficent accidentally burned you during training. Here,”—the shoulder, and he was staring at her like she’d gone completely crazy—“you’ve got another scar where one of the villains stabbed you because you were being mouthy. And here,”—her finger landed right between his eyes, and she might have laughed at the way they crossed to follow it if she hadn’t been trying to make a point—“is where you have a very stupid idea.”
Yeah, he definitely thought she was crazy. Mouth hanging open a bit and sand sticking to his eyebrows, it was pretty clear he didn’t know what to make of this. Leaning down, she looked him straight in the eye, and she had to clench her teeth to keep from losing it completely. “I know you did bad things, Riku,” she said, the words tasting of bitterness and love, like a million summers' worth of bad fruit. “Sora may have seen it, but I know, too. I wasn’t there, but I . . .”
She had to turn away for a second, put all the words together in her head so that they came out right and didn’t drive him even further away. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, and he was still staring at her, probably picturing that new, homesick girl from a long time ago with scraped knees and a muddy face. That comparison didn’t work very well anymore, though; now she was the girl who got stuck at home—after causing her friends unbelievable trouble—with welts on her pretty little princess heart (that was probably how the darkness got in, like a disease).
Thankfully, the words came easily enough. Turning back to him, she smiled, shaky but never uncertain. “It’s okay, Riku,” she cooed. “That’s not you. You—you’d never hurt Sora or me. We know you wouldn’t.”
“Kairi—” he started, and she could tell he was about to argue. Tell her that she didn’t understand, that he was dangerous, that he was dark.
“You’ve always protected me, Riku,” she said, fast, because she wasn’t going to let him get away. “From Maleficent and Ansem and Organization XIII. You always took care of me. Thank you.”
He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He watched her, narrowed eyes scrutinizing her, looking for the pretty lie in her pretty face. In answer, she smiled that much more. “It’s okay, Riku,” she repeated, leaning closer. “Sora thinks so, and I do, too. We’re your friends, Riku. We’ll always love you.”
Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, sand and all (friends don’t care if you’re sandy). Riku blushed in response, because that’s what sixteen-year-old boys do, no matter how cool they thought they were. Behind that, though, was something like relief, or cautious optimism. Though it wasn’t exactly the absolute belief that she’d been hoping for, she’d take it.
Slowly crawling off of him (with a bit of useless help, his hands following her to make sure she didn’t fall over, and wasn’t he just the gentleman) and pushing herself to her feet, she held a hand out to him, smiling. Cautious optimism would be fine, she decided as he took it and she pulled him to his feet. Now that he saw it was okay—and believed it now, she could tell, in that light-filled heart of his—it would all be all right. She could work with that. She could be patient a little bit longer.
She’d go ahead and love him—she snatched up his hand, held it tight as they left the cove together—because that’s what friends do.
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this was my prompt, and you made it absolutely wonderful! thank you so much!
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I absolutely adore this line.
Very well done!
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