AN:- Gentle warning for slight Yuri. Written for yurichallenge on LJ. Spoilers for end game KH2.

ooo

After they return to the Islands, nothing changes.

For a long time it had been in all of their minds that somehow, when they returned home, everything would be different between them. There'd be no more of Sora's searching, Riku's pain or Kairi's endless chasing (always hoping that somehow, somewhen, one of them would stop long enough to let her in on their great adventure).

But some things never change, no matter how much you push, and push, and refuse to accept until eventually you stand back and see just how far you haven't come.

Sora's bored, though he doesn't admit it, and frustrated too because Riku's still in pain and so hurt that he's not letting anyone in, not even Kairi. Watching them is like watching all her dreams unravel as slowly it becomes apparent that things aren't the way they're meant to be. Things aren't, Kairi thinks, ever going to be the way they were meant to be ever again. Somewhere back a year or two ago, they took their perfect world and they broke its back, and now they've picked up all the pieces again but try as they might, the edges won't fit together anymore.

Riku's full of horror, and leads his life pulled together so tightly that he can't breathe just in case the darkness gets out of him again and starts talking with his voice. She watches him choking himself to death but he's wound the cords so tightly around himself that she can't get her fingers beneath to loosen them. Instead she watches him and doesn't touch because he might break beneath her fingers and she wouldn't know what to do or how to pick him up again.

It's almost worse with Sora, because as far as Sora's concerned, he's the same as he always was and nothing about the adventures he's been through has changed him one bit. She doesn't tell him that he's not the boy he used to be, that now the baby is gone and the boy she loved has turned into a man with ideals and a destiny that frightens her. She doesn't tell him that when she looks into his eyes she sees someone else looking back out at her and that someone deep inside her soul is trying to cry with her eyes.

She leaves them both behind on the beach, because they belong to each other and the boy sitting in Sora's soul is starting to frighten her with the way he smiles. The secret one in her head is crying again even though there are no tears and Kairi can't cope with it anymore, this constant pining like the hum of an electric cable setting her teeth on edge.

The floorboards are warm beneath her toes as she walks through her home, and sharp in places where she and others have tracked sand in from the beach. She can hear someone moving around in the rooms along the corridor and when she reaches her bedroom, she pushes the door closed behind her, sliding the bolt across. For a moment, she turns and casts around, just looking at all the things that she has drawn around her to make this place her own.

The room is full of sunlight and the tossing of waves carrying up from the beach below. She can hear the shriek of gulls on the breeze that stirs the lace curtains, and smell the scent of the honey flowers in bloom. Her bed is made, the dull rose quilt strewn with magazines that Selphie left behind and wrinkled where her feet pushed at the covers as she read. In her belly she can feel the other stirring; twisting, uneasy.

It makes her angry. Can't even be alone in her own head.

Irritation makes her footsteps heavy and the movement of her hand is harsh as she pulls the scarf down from where it hangs over the edge of her mirror. It's a beautiful piece of furniture this mirror, standing in the corner of her room with its dark oak frame, full length and ornate, like the mirror from a fairytale. It's fitting, she thinks. After all, is she not a princess?

She stares into the cold surface. "Come out," she says, and the hardness in her voice surprises her. It brings with it guilt for there's no need to be like this, not really. She can't imagine how it would be if their positions were reversed. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice softer now. "Come out, please."

When she looks again, Naminé is there.

Where Kairi should see her own reflection, instead another girl stands. She's pretty and ethereal with eyes that speak through her silence and hair that's pale blond. She would be colourless if not for the dark strength in her gaze, the understanding of the world that comes from having seen the cold unforgiving side of it. Suddenly Kairi's anger is gone and in its place there's nothing but an empty sadness and a loneliness which she can't shake. "I'm sorry," she says again and doesn't know why.

Naminé shakes her head softly and smiles, and Kairi reaches up to touch her cheek. The girl in the mirror moves with her and they both lean into the contact. It's strange because Kairi can feel her own fingertips on her skin and yet- and yet the touch feels as though it comes from someone else and she's not sure if it's some kind of feedback loop or if she's really going crazy. She's not sure it matters anymore.

The girl in the mirror smiles, a tentative, charming curve of lips that makes Kairi want to tell her it's all right and that anything she does will always be for her, which is strange too because it's never been like this. Except nothing's changed and that's the problem because at the same time nothing is the same anymore either. Kairi wants to say I'll be with you but there's no need because it can't be any other way. Her hand caresses her/the other girl's cheek and softly, softly she lets her hand trail down to the ridge of her chin, over the softness of neck and the swell of breast to the curve of hip. She lets her fingertips touch cotton and the feel of another's palms across her belly is comforting and warm.

They layer each touch one over another and sometimes their eyes meet in the glass and when they do it's okay, like home. It's nothing strange, or scary, or wrong. It's just them, together and alone.

She'd like to reach into the mirror and touch the other girl's shoulder, pull her close and feel the curve of her in her arms. Maybe rest her head beneath the other girl's breasts and wrap her arms around her waist to keep her near. She wonders if she were to kiss the mirror if it would be foolish or if she might somehow reach inside and draw Naminé out.

"I'm sorry."

She can feel fingertips on her back and a palm against her cheek.

"It's okay," her reflection whispers.