I've been reading - in authors notes and stuff - that writing about the same couple is boring. I disagree! Especially where the Sokai pairing is concerned. I admire Sora, and support canon, so stick that up your arses! :D
heh... just kidding. :cowers:

But seriously, Sora and Kairi never asked for any of it, did they? I mean, everybody knows Riku was ready for it all, really ready to get off the islands, enough that he opened himself to darkness, and I believe the other two just went along with it, you know? Like, yeah, nice idea and all, but i like my afternoon naps. Why else do you think Riku was the only one working on the raft? Obviously the one in charge of the project and very serious about it, if you add in that little chat with Kairi... reckon it was more than just finding Kairi's homeland to him.

Just so you know, 012 apparently means 'forever', 143 means 'love' or something. I don't know. Just felt like adding it in somewhere.

The quote below is something from my English class. It got me thinking about Kingdom Hearts and... yeah. Although it doesn't have a whole lot to do with the storyline. Granted, there isn't a storyline, but meh. And it's more concentrated on the 'ask instead of take' thing, only this is more 'ask instead of demand'...
Okay, rambling... shutting up now.

It's better to ask for the world than to take it – Inspector Goole, An Inspector Calls

Something had gone wrong.

When I stepped into the portal and turned, I just knew – they weren't going to make it.

Calling their names wouldn't help. God, even reaching out a hand (such a wasted effort) was pointless. All I could do was watch helplessly as they were lost in a swirl of dark and I tumbled, landing on the sand of my home and feeling like my heart had just been… misplaced. I felt hollow, my eyes glaring towards the sky and demanding to see what I willed to.

But demanding never got you anywhere.

My footprints where overlapping, wearing a path into the sand. I was pacing (and pacing and pacing) and all the three humanoid animals did was watch me with solemn eyes. I finally snapped, whirling on the so called king and saying, "Do something!" And you know, he only shook his head. No words of anything; no comfort, no encouragement.

Something's really wrong, my mind whispered. Trying to ignore it wasn't working, so I took a deep breath and gazed at the tide. Questions nagged – are they okay? what happened? how will they get back? – The answers? So effing negative.

I banished the bad thoughts and reached out for my hope.




They will come, I told myself with a smile, because they'd want that – they'd want me to smile. (Just smile and everything will be okay.)

They will come


The alarm read 00:12.

There was soft pillows and smoky skies and silver rain, blurry tears and crooked smiles and blinking.

Just a dream after all; but still a memory. Those few hours of panic and near hysteria had nearly drove me insane, but they eventually arrived, sopping wet with bright eyes and so so beautifully wild. I'd gathered them in my arms when I had the chance, sobbing with relief at the simple bruises on their skin. Could have been so much worse.

I sighed, moved my eyelids so I could see the yellowish streetlamp glare through the thin fabric of my curtains. I had no chance of sleep now.

I rolled out of bed and stretched, contemplating my options. There wasn't many that appealed to me – I had the sudden, strangest urge to see the boys. I was getting all motherly again, wishing to check up on them (again) to make sure of their existence. So many nights I'd wake to the fear that it was all a dream, an illusion, a trick of the light or eyes. It'd been a year, after all. More than that. I'd missed them.

Especially the youngest.

How can you miss something you've forgotten? I'll tell you how – it's the memory of what they mean to you.

I padded across the carpet in my bare feet, pulled on some shoes and opened some doors. The rain clung to my eyelashes and had me dripping within seconds as I sprinted along the quiet, fresh lanes. And meant nothing to me.

I pounded on the door, burning adrenaline in the chill of the dark air. Nothing. I made myself ring the bell, sudden belated guilt consuming me as I stepped back, hesitant.

Until he opened the door, eyes half-lidded and sleepy, yawn tugging at the corners of his lips as he pressed his knuckles against his neck to stretch.


I nodded.

He smiled slowly and stepped aside, a silent welcome. He didn't question my abrupt appearance in the middle of the night; I suppose he was used to it by now. And as usual, as I moved past, I touched him (his arm, the back of his hand, the side of his head) just to be sure. This time it was his cheek. I went to pull back but then he nuzzled my palm, and I froze as the heat swirled beneath the skin of my face. He paused, too, taking the hand and wrapping it in both his own with an uncharacteristic frown.

"You're freezing," he said.

I nodded wisely, still stunned speechless from the previous small act of affection. That was when he got the brainwave to look my over.

"Hmm." He looked at my eyes, one eyebrow up. "Pyjama party?"

"Why not?"

He blew a straywhisper from his view. "I don't know, Kairi. I mean, I know I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, but I seriously wouldn't take a run in the middle of night, in the rain, with only my pyjamas on. At least grab a coat or something."

Amidst his talking, he dragged me through the doorway and into the living room, pushing me down gently onto the sofa and wrapping me up like a baby.

I mumbled, "I wanted to see you."

"Grabbing a coat takes about two seconds, Kairi," he pointed out.

"I mean, I really wanted to see you," I whispered.

He sighed again, suddenly catching on. He settled down beside me and pulled me towards him, tucking my head beneath his chin in an almost protective manner. One arm went around my waist and the hand attached gripped my forearm; the other's thumb drew circles on my shoulder. I snuggled against his chest, my nose level with the hollow under his throat, craving the warmth and solidness he provided.

"Those dreams again?" I could feel the sweet vibrations of his vocal chords. I nodded again and closed my eyes, wrapped in his arms and feeling more whole than I had since I'd remembered his name. It felt like sunshine was dripping from my fingertips when he ran a hand down the length of my arm and cupped my cheek. "You'd be the first to know," he assured me softly.

But you see – that's the thing. It wasn't 'nothing's going to happen, it's all over now' because – god damn it – it wasn't over, and something was going to happen, and he knew it, Riku knew it, and I knew it, too. We just knew, and I don't know about them, but it absolutely terrified me. It was a cycle; would go round in endless circles, like the ones he drew on my skin, only so much more frightening – because those other circles, they didn't mean comfort, didn't know the meaning of the word. It would be circles of saving worlds and somehow trying to fit in a normal life somewhere, and it broke my heart. Because Riku was like an older brother to me, and Sora –

My God – Sora

… Before, when I would stare at him sometimes, back when we were fourteen, I'd been afraid it was creepy and I did it too much. But now I worry that if I don't do it often, if I miss just one second… I'd lose something; I'd lose those extra few sacred seconds of him. Just to see him breathe is worth more to me than anything else right now, because I knew time was limited –

God, did I know it.

And… he means so much to me.

I shifted, drawing back to look at his face. He looked back, the blue of his eyes suddenly warmer than the hottest of flames. He offered a small, crooked smile.

"What in the worlds am I going to do with you?" He laughed softly, resting his forehead tiredly against mine.

And before I realised what was what, I'd said, "Kiss me."

His body tensed, his eyes slowly lifting and searching mine.

Demanding never got you anywhere - the thought had been in my head minutes ago! Idiot, I thought to myself, horrified, you frickin idiot, Kairi! Where the hell did that come from…?!

Oh. My heart. Well, it was too late now… was I finally too tired of simply admiring his sky blues and shiny always-looks-so-clean chestnut hair? His absolutely one of a kind grin and laid back, sweet personality? … I think that's a yes. Yup, a definite 100 percent yes.

… Crap. I am so not ready for this… am I?

Eventually, he smiled slightly. "We should be thinking about ways to keep you warm…"

"I am." Because I was ready… right? And when does a kiss not make you warm? He gazed steadily at me. I could feel the flush on my face and panicked and, like always, began to babble like a broken stream. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that 'cause it's put you totally on the spot and I'm an idiot and I'm sorry!"


"Well, you obviously don't feel the same and now I feel stupid and I never should have –" I stopped talking, mainly because he'd pressed a finger to my lips. My eyes flickered to his, hopeful, but no matter how much I'd told myself he wouldn't feel the same and prepared myself for this, his expression stole my breath and wasn't encouraging at all, his eyes burned – with –


"Kairi," he said. Then he seemed to register something about the look on my face, because his suddenly softened, except his lips were in a thin line and his eyes were hard as ice and he wasn't fooling anyone.

"I gave up my friggin' heart for you."

I blinked, stunned motionless, staring at him. "What…?" I whispered.

He inhaled sharply, turned his head away and closed his eyes for a few moments, within which I regarded him warily. I'd never seen him look so… uncontrolled. There had been something wild and insane in his eyes, and it was so obvious he was fighting for control. But… over what? Eventually, he looked at me again, emotions back in check. Or at least… most, because I could have sworn he was close to tears just then, and it made me eyes grow wide and something lodge in my throat.

"In Hollow Bastion, when I – when I fucking stabbed myself – released your heart –" A deep, shaky breath. "Did you really think I was doing it because you were just a friend to me?"

I said nothing, licking my suddenly dry lips. He stared at me, his eyes half wild. I snapped out of something then, thinking – what's he looking so mixed up for? so I took his face in my hands and said in the sternest voice I could muster through my Sahara parched throat, "Calm down, Sora."

Sora swallowed, breathing heavily and clenching his hands into fists, his knuckles turning ivory white. I only knew the latter because I could see his right hand balled up against my forearm, pressing against it. I held his gaze while I waited for him to do as I said, but that didn't work out as planned, because suddenly his face just crumpled out of nowhere and a small, compressed sob escaped the pink of his lips. He leant forwards and pressed his face into my neck as his torso swelled and he gasped another sob against my skin.

This sudden change of mood from him threw me for a second, but when he continued to shake and cry, practically in my arms, I wrapped said limbs around him and pulled him closer. I didn't see Sora cry often, and it never was a nice experience for me. Not only was he generally happy-go-lucky, the smiley and goofy one of our group, but I could also feel his pain, as if it were my own. I always could. We were so tightly bonded now, I knew I wouldn't even be able to live without him by my side in some way; I'd simply lose my will to live. It might sound dramatic, cheesy, corny – call it what you will, but I'd known him ever since I could remember. He was my first and best friend. And our hearts… life without him just wasn't possible.

Watching and feeling and hearing him cry made my own eyes water.

"It's okay," I murmured pathetically, desperation making an early appearance in my gut as my words had no effect what-so-ever. "Hush, Sora, please – I-its okay…"

He shook his head, clinging to me, his breath ragged and swollen. "Nuh-" he choked on his words. "Nuh-"

"Shush…" I so wanted to ask him to just stop it, to just stop crying – but I couldn't, I didn't dare. It was as clear as glass that he needed to do this; to have a good bawl that he'd kept inside for only God knows how long. So I ditched the words and tried to comfort him with my body. Stroking and rocking him, humming an out of tune lullaby, feeling utterly helpless.

After some time, he abruptly untangled himself and went to move away, but then he froze when our eyes met, his expression pained and torn. I whispered his name, confusion melting into my tone, and the shadows dancing behind his pupils suddenly hardened with resolve and he reached out to cradle my face in his palms. My breath caught, the shadows lancing fear into my heart.


He pulled my head forwards and pressed his lips to my forehead. They were warm and soft and damp. I stopped speaking. I was unable to speak. Slowly, his head moved, his hands tilting my face up as his mouth brushed down across my eyebrow to pause at the hollow in the corner of my eye, making me automatically lower my eyelids. He trailed horizontally to my nose, then down, down…

I could feel them, so close, hovering but a millimetre out of reach. His warm breath caressed my skin, and l shuddered.

"Kai?" I swear that one syllable, the movement required to make the sound, made his lip touch mine. I felt I couldn't possibly respond, but I did when I sensed him move away.

"Hm?" I hummed.

Was he smiling?

"Kiss me."

(but sometimes it's the only way)

So I did. I kissed him long and hard, not even bothering to be gentle, because I'd wanted this for so long, I'd wanted him for so long. The sun exploded and warmth seared down my spine… I think it shocked him, the un-gentleness of it, his hands dropped from my face and he leaned back slightly, his eyes might have opened. His lips parted, his breath mingling with mine, confusing my senses and making me feel lightheaded. Sunlight went drip, drip right off my fingertips... Perhaps I should have paid attention to his reaction, but I didn't, I was too blissed out to notice, the only thing that my brain registered was the fact that he was soon kissing me back, however brief his hesitation. The kiss became more firm and deep, his hands wandered – although not anywhere near where I wanted them to wander, badly – and every time we broke for air I whispered his name, pressing him back against the sofa, feeling more alive than my whole life put together, my body going up in flames so hot I gasped into his mouth and he –


I never knew such a feeling could strike through me as the one that did right then.

Sora pushed against my shoulders, and our lips disconnected. We panted for air but I wasn't finished, leaned forward –


I ceased movement entirely. I stopped breathing. Opened my eyes and looked at him.


"Just – don't."

I stared at his eyes. They were wide and bright; they looked like the sun itself had reformed within him and shone from deep within his soul. He held me at arms length, bowing his head, still struggling for air. This was killing me already. I wanted to feel his lips on mine again so much it hurt, like a huge horrid throbbing ache in my heart. I needed that light to come back…

"We shouldn't," he said softly, hoarsely, glancing back up at me.

"Why not?" I demanded, a jagged stab of fear making my tone angrier than I felt. He swallowed hard, his eyes pleading and miserable.

"You're a princess…"

"So?" I really meant that, you know. I mean, sure, Princess of Heart and everything, but that wasn't exactly the same as the whole conventional wear-a-crown-piant-my-face-and-look-down-on-everyone-who-wasn't-as-good-as-me route. … with emphasis on the last part.

"You don't…" he took a breath. "You deserve a prince." His shoulders slumped at that, a self-mockery smile tugging at his lips. "A prince." He closed his eyes, then reopened them and looked at me. "I'm a nobody."

I shook my head slowly, my face felt surprisingly relaxed, and I knew my eyes were soft as I regarded him then. "No, you're not. A Nobody…"

"No," he sighed. "Not that. I mean, what am I? I'm just some kid with a key-shaped sword who doesn't really mean much in the grand scheme of things. If I died, it would just go to some other unlucky bastard… God, I'd be a knight at best, but knights don't… princesses don't fall in love with a knight." He laughed hysterically.

"This one did," I said quietly.

"Then this one's an idiot."

"No." I put my hand under his chin, forcing him to look at me, and pressed my lips to his before he could do anything about it. He didn't pull away, but I could feel that sun fizzling out and dying inside of him, like stars do fade into darkness, because he thought he knew what he was talking about – that for some sick twisted royalty reason, we couldn't be together. I tried to deepen the kiss again, tried to lose myself in the feel of it like I did before, but it wasn't working. He didn't respond the same – all wild and uncontrolled – so I pulled back, frowning at him. He dipped his head tiredly, resting it against my shoulder, and I sighed, frustrated. We sat there in silence for a heartbeat; I glanced at the clock – 1:43.

Resting the side of my head against his hair, I murmured, "What if I didn't want an arrogant, self-absorbed prince, but you…?"

He tensed immediately. "You don't. You can't."

"I do."

Silence – thump, one, two, three, heartbeat.

"I'm the Keyblade Master," Sora said.

"I know."

"I have to fight."

I held him tighter. "I know that, too." God, I did.

"… I have to leave you behind."

I inhaled. "No, you don't."

"But –"

"Whatever happened to wherever one of us goes, the others follow? Don't you remember that?"

"It's too dangerous," he hissed, determined to get it out.

"Oh, and being kidnapped is considered safe, is it?"

Sora flinched, and I instantly regretted my words. He tried to move back, but I wouldn't let him, constricting my embrace and desperately trying to hold him prisoner there.

"Don't. Please," I whispered.

He exhaled slowly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Why didn't I believe that?

"Really," he said, his tone honest. "Just… you're hurting me, Ree."

"Oops." I reluctantly released him and watched him as he straightened up slightly, rubbing at his neck. He dropped his hand. I took it. He glanced down at our intertwined fingers (so like our hearts) and then at the TV blaring meaningless lights and muted sounds. (Obviously, I only noticed the box was on when he looked at it). His lips were paler and thinner than they should be, his eyes thoughtful and frightened and, naturally, a little irked.

"Don't be angry," I said. The lights splashed against his face, giving definition to the dips and crevices of his bone structure. When he turned to look at me, half of it all was slightly more shadowed than the other, and for a split second there was a flash of yellow. Then his chest swelled with air, and he smiled, and it was gone. I could have imagined it.

I hope I did.

"We could use someone like Axel, now… you're still cold." He touched my cheek, his eyes half serious and half… not serious.

"Not funny," I muttered, leaning stubbornly away from his touch… even if I yearned for it… and crossing my arms, glaring at him.

He withdrew his hand, his eyes searching mine. Can you keep a secret? "… I would have done the same, you know."


He rushed to explain, at the expression on my face, no doubt. "He only wanted to see Roxas, Kairi. He only wanted to see his best friend, the one person who made him feel like he had a heart… I'd have done the same. I…" did worse. It hung there, unspoken, as obvious as if a tongue had formed them into the air, like puffs of smoke the would slowly fade into the atmosphere, but even invisibly, did damage. I refused to acknowledge it, because this was Sora – the only reason he did any of it was because he had no choice. They Keyblade chose him, not the other way around.

… Sometimes, I shamed myself. I can remember one night, fresh and young since our arrival, when I'd been mulling things over and suddenly found myself cursing Riku for accepting the darkness so quickly that stormy time. Found myself thinking that if he hadn't done it, he'd have the Keyblade, he'd be wading his way through the crap as he had with the ocean waves, doing what he did had doomed them both instead of just Riku…

What sickened me the most, though, was how much I believed in what I thought that night. How much I wished it had happened like that… but then, I suppose, wouldn't things be different? Would I… feel… for Sora, as I did now? I think so, because even if Riku had been given the Keyblade, I still feel like it would have been Sora who'd have come looking for me in the not-so-Secret Place. My heart would have gone to him, because even if Riku's heart had been stronger, there was a shadow of darkness there that I think I might have sensed from him, considering the dark vibe I'd got in his presence, even before the storm. I didn't ask Sora to leave Riku behind – just the two of us! – for no reason other than to then follow up with a just kidding!, I'd truly wanted it – only to get coldfeet when he reacted so negatively…

I blinked myself out of my thoughts and looked at Sora. His gaze was averted, as if he were ashamed, or embarrassed, maybe. I studied him, suddenly thinking again – does he mean Riku? Or… my God… is he talking about me? He'd really kidnap someone just to see us?

(Worse is a whisper in the back of my mind – but it had to be done!)

But then, of course, with a shake of my head and my hands on his cheeks, willing him to look at me, I decided that –

"No. You're so much better than that, Sora."

Because he wouldn't. And he only ki... defeated... because he had to.

He attempted a smile, he really did, but it didn't quite leave his lips and reach up to his eyes. I sighed and kissed his lips, only lightly, teasing him. The smile became truer as he playfully shoved my away and awkwardly rose to his feet. "Go take a hot shower then," he said, walking over to the archway that led to the kitchen. "I'll… make some hot choc or… something."

Something tightened in my chest. "Wait!" I called out, quickly scrambling to my feet and hurrying over to him. He turned, and caught me with his gaze, freezing me where I stood with his melted ice eyes. I struggled to swallow and breathe the air so I could say (or stammer, really), "Can… can I k-kiss you?"

He sighed, almost as if he were relieved, and stepped forwards to capture my cheeks with his hands.

"Do you have to ask?"