They don't recognize you.

Your second skin peeled off, and your eyes are yellow and you're just a little thing on the ground, a shadow, a spider on the wall leaking insects and venom from your mouth and grinning with a stitched face.

Donald gasps, readies his staff and glares needles at you and you can only cower because you're SORA. You're Sora. Sora. But Donald and Goofy don't know that, even though you look exactly like him with your spiky hair and your swagger and your big feet and your grin. You walk on four legs, but you're still Sora. You're Sora.

But at the same time, you're not Sora. An antithesis, an antonym, an Antisora, the spidery being that still haunts Riku's dreams with your loving words, and your loving touches, and the way that you used to kiss him and tell him that he was all right. But Riku's not here for you to drizzle your chocolate-flavored sin onto, and only Donald and Goofy can gape at you and stare and wonder what in hell happened to the hero.

Donald always talked a lot. "…Sora?"

You nod, reverently, because you know that you're still Sora under all of that filth. Goofy lowers his shield, and his mouth is still open and you can see his tongue lolling in his mouth and you want to tear it out and sink your teeth into the flesh just to see how wet and slick it is. Sora's tearing at your head, and you blink and crawl away and hide yourself in a corner, hands clutching your heads and pigeon-toed because you feel the need to defend yourself.

You're the darkside.

You're vulnerable.

You shiver and start crying, and your tears are as black as your face, sliding down dark cheeks and glaringly odd against your yellow eyes. Donald is still cautious as he takes a step forward, and he's ready to attack.

You yell at them to go away, and your voice is mutilated and you only sob harder because you're not yourself. You're yourself, but you're not, and Riku liked you better with solid skin anyway. Antisora made a good substitute, though.

Goofy's arms are around you, and he looks like he's crying as well, and you can't bring yourself to push him away even though you don't want to taint him. You never wanted to be this, this thing, this crawling monster that hovered over a child's dead body and devoured her heart and it was sickly sweet. Donald steps forward, a cautious hand pressing into Sora's skull, and he's shocked when his hand goes right through and you groan and shiver because he's touching your brain. You're just smoke and mirrors, a play on the light, the closer you get to it and the greater you are.

You're the strongest Sora, you know.

Because you have Riku backing you up.

Because you know, that somewhere in the darkest parts of his heart, Riku loved you once.



inspired by a thought. what the hell goes on in sora's head when he over-abuses his drive forms and turns into antisora? just a little character study, because i love antisora.