Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingdom Hearts I, II or CoM. They belong to Square Enix and Disney.

Warnings: September involves abuse and Forsaken includes guts in laps.

Author’s Notes: I am bored, can’t find my mother’s laptop so I still can’t finish everyone’s fics, so I opened iTunes and did this. Each song time was the amount of time I allowed myself to write each drabble. I was going to do Motteke! Sailor Fuku as well... but, uh, I honestly couldn’t think of anything I could write for it. Except Riku in a cheerleaders costume.
Which I might do at a later date...

Moondance
Nightwish

It’s rather late – the stars are in the sky, the moon up high, and the air is crisp and fresh. Riku guesses it must be about 3am in the morning, but he doesn’t mind that he’s a little cold and a little damp. He can feel Sora’s strong arms around his waist and his heart pounding against his back, and he thinks that maybe this is what perfection really is. They’re bathed in the moonlight, and happy.

September
Marianas Trench

Riku feels a little lost, somewhat pathetic, and kind of sore. He can hear his father downstairs, raging and yelling and flinging plates and glasses against the wall while his mother sobs. He touches his own bruises, feels the sticky feeling of blood under his fingers. It hurts, and he wishes he could escape. But he can’t, not yet. He has to wait it out – wait for Sora, wait his boyfriend to come back from college. He then pauses, and wonders why he can’t go to Sora. But he knows the answer to that. He thinks about the once river of emails and phone calls and letters, now a trickle, and thinks about Sora’s new roommate – Kairi something. Thinks about how they must be happy together, while Riku sits in his dark little room, broken hearted and wistful.

Riku and Sora have been fighting together for a total time of one year and two months, and they imagine that they’re a little happy. Then again, they’re sleeping in mud and muck, eating stale food and nursing painful, swollen wounds. So maybe their happiness is not quite happiness, but desperation. Sora has a girlfriend waiting for him back home, after all. Riku has two more years of college. Their homes are on the other side of the country – how can they continue this little affair after this war is over? It’s a stupid, pointless idea, but they both keep the possibility of living and being together close to their hearts. And even when Riku laying on the ground, missing a arm and barely alive, even when Sora’s chest is gaping and his liver splashed all over his own lap, they both keep their love for each other close. Because that’s what gotten them through this war, and it’s what will get them through the after life.

Survive
Rise Against

Riku’s been in the Darkness for a very long time, and he feels very lost. He constantly has to fight off Heartless, constantly has to fight off his own self-hate, and fight off his resent. It’s hard, yes, but maybe by doing this he’s repenting for what he did, for what he might do. He’s thin and his skin is paper-thin and paper-white, and he thinks he might be blind – he’s not sure, but he stopped seeing the little pin-pricks of life that usually appear out of no where. He’s relying on his hearing, which is annoying because the Heartless whisper, actually speak. And they sound like Sora. He’s lost count of the times he’s run towards the sound of Sora’s voice, only to have his arm sliced open, his heart almost taken away. He thinks that maybe he should let them take it, sometimes, though. Because then the pain and anger and sadness would go away, and he would be able to get out of this hell, and back to Sora. Even if it means being killed by him.

L’arc-en-ciel
Da Silva

It’s summer, and the smell of salt is strong in the air. Kairi’s burnt bright red, Selphie too, and Wakka’s all smiles and laughter, Tidus all giggles and yelps. Riku sits under the beach umbrella, happily reclining, watching as Sora comes running towards him, soda in hand. He’s been home for four months, and he feels alive again – free. He takes his drink from Sora, and laughs when the boy plops down next to him, leaning over to kiss his cheek and tell him how the old lady hit him with her purse for no reason whatsoever.