He's never been on any island other than himself.

He's a strange turn of the wrist and his presence is so unwanted Riku thinks he might vomit.

Their bodies still ache from something like a battle and more like a conquering.

Riku remembers everything the way it was and more.

Riku can smell it as he moves each muscle.

Riku can taste everything he sees.

He's a bent knee and a familiar face.

He's an antithesis and a replication.

He's a dagger and Riku wants to slit their wrists.

Riku wants to bleed the both of them and bathe in it because the red makes them both crazy and when they're crazy it isn't half so difficult to be so guilty and sick.

He's a disease that makes his skin burn a yellow glow.

He's a cry in the dark that has nowhere to go but lodging itself deep in Riku's head.

He's a promise and a curse that Riku's trying to get rid of.

The Poltergeist slows your movement to one space per turn. You may not ditch the Poltergeist and must keep it as a follower. However, if you cross the river by any means it vanishes to the discard pile, even if you want to keep it.

Riku's blindness doesn't hide the truth and he wants to wrap his heart up in black gauze so it will all go away. Or so hopes.

He's the winter and the snow and the ice and he loves it, he rules over it and it's too cold, even for Riku.

His arms feel like he's being put into an iron maiden and he thinks about making lemonade.

Riku's words are ignored and his aren't spoken.

His eyes are dangerously maddening and Riku's aren't seen.

He's the ghost and the truth and Riku hasn't ever wanted a corpse more in his life.

Fascination and repellant.

Cross the river, boy.

There's a motivation that Riku can't seem to grasp and Riku's steps are sluggish.

It's all about whose side he's on and he's on No One's and Riku isn't.

It's unfair and it makes the strange throbbing in Riku's chest that much more painful.

It makes the blank, empty, beautiful, bright into an empty picture frame.

By any means.

Riku wants to shatter the glass and he wants to be shattered.

He wants to be wrenched around until his bones break.

You may not ditch the Poltergeist.

The feathers he leaves on the pillow are shimmering somewhere between silver and gold.

He can't even decide which kind of beauty he wants to be.

He has a fascination for gems and when Riku gives them to him is a gift he throws them out the window.

He dances like a wave and he can suck all the light out of the room with one of his smiles.

Riku tries so hard to kill him but the testosterone takes over his brain until he's only hurting himself.

Riku can only limp now, shuffle, thump, shuffle, thump. Too slow.

He's getting away.

When the waters rise.

Why are they all like water, Riku wants to know.

He laughs and it rings in the air like a bell until it doesn't and it's more like dying.

Riku's the sky and he is snow and the other one is the ocean.

He doesn't want the sky and he still hasn't learned how to swim.

He wants the sun, the moon, and the stars.

Riku knows. Riku wants to lasso them and give them over, they're infinitely patient.

He can be patient as Riku shuffles along behind him.

There's not enough incentive in the world.

He's got enough pain to fill an ocean, but Riku doesn't need to cross an ocean.

Cross the river, boy, do it now!

Riku's heart is beating faster, faster, the darkness is rising to cover his head and he sees the scales of fish twinkling high, high above.

The pressure is crushing him, can't move, can't die.

He pushes Riku and that leaves the Sky with no choice but to jump, jump over the moon.

Over the rising water.

The laughter that isn't his and isn't theirs and it doesn't really belong to anyone but Riku's worst nightmare and dearest love, next to the others.

Riku realizes how fickle he is and he can't get out a laugh, the air is dry, crackling cold, just like his face.

Vanishes to the discard pile.

He's an awkward choking noise.

He's an unwanted guest that Riku never wanted to get rid of.

He's the scent of burning things and his body is like smoke, slipping through fingers like water and not so much like snow.

It's something he wants but doesn't understand.

Riku doesn't get it either, but he's already taken the leap and the moon stole something from him along the way.

Riku's shame could probably fill the ocean, just like his pain.

They make it worse, they make it worse.

He's the most important piece and Riku feels his superficial nature taking over.

But he crumples at his feet, the tide lapping at his shoes.

He's sliding away along the sands, sea and earth conspiring to make him theirs.

The sky has nothing but clouds to cry for him.

He's gone, sucked down by the rolling tide.

Even if you want to keep it.


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