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~ The Closed Door Between You And I ~
The gigantic, looming white doors stood less than a foot apart, closing. Slowly, closing. And they had to shut, had to, to save everything and everyone and even themselves. But the cost?
Riku was on the other side.
First there was relief, because there was Riku, smiling at him. In the flesh, only him and no one else occupying his body. King Mickey, Donald, and Goofy were encouraging them as they pushed and pulled the door desperately and it all felt so momentous. Sora had no doubts they would succeed. After all, they could do anything, together. But… a nagging voice in the back of his mind got louder each millimeter the doors moved, asking incessantly: would they ever see each other again? After everything they’d gone through? They had to reunite, and go home with Kairi to their islands, right?
The door was closing, and now it seemed Sora couldn't stop it even if he wanted to, which – he realized with a start, far too late – he did. Riku’s smile didn’t hold the joy of seeing each other again, anymore. Sora felt light-headed, all adrenaline and go go go until things are right but this was the end of the line and–
Sora met Riku’s eyes. Now, his smile was serene, resigned even. Sora wanted so badly to reach his hand and somehow pull him back through but–
“Sora,” Riku said, the final inches of space between the doors diminishing, “I love you.” His last syllable barely escaped the space they could see each other through; the smallest slit.
And Sora’s whole entire world ground to a halt. The doors created a hollow crash on their meeting, and it echoed in his ears like the low church bells before funerals.
And Kairi was taken from him, too; as he screamed to her across a widening void that he would come back for her, – words and promises flying out of his mouth with nothing but panic and reeling behind them – she was whisked away to their home, to the islands him and Riku grew in. Funny, that though she came from another world, she was the only one of the three to return to it.
After that, an emptiness settled on Sora like a heavy blanket, seeped in so deep he felt it in his bones; but in it was a quiet ringing, like the high pitched TV static – in his ears or his heart he couldn't tell. He first noticed it as him, Donald, and Goofy walked through that seemingly infinite grassy field. It was still there when he woke up inside the strange pod in Twilight Town, though sometimes it echoed like there was an extra tone. It grew louder in Hollow Bastion. It rang and rang and rang in The Land of Dragons, but it wasn’t until the second visit that, for the first time, the bells in his ears were happy, hopeful chimes after a playful fight in the snow with a masked, cloaked man.
The sound dulled until they visited Halloween Town again. Seeing Jack and Sally dancing, so enamored… by default, he thought about Kairi, imagined spinning slowly with her like the spooky couple were – but, no, the fantasy twisted in his chest and dropped like a cold, heavy block of ice to the pit of his stomach. He couldn't think about her without thinking how Riku saw them and every part of him wanted to scream it wasn’t like that but, wait, wasn’t it? The ringing became a scream that could out-match the Pumpkin King. Then, Agrabah – everything was insufferably the same. Port Royal – Donald and Goofy teased him about Kairi, again, but he hadn’t the heart to admit who was really on his mind. Pride Rock and Space Paranoids flew by, and Sora was so desperate, so tired of searching he forgot the ringing in his ears like it was just apart of him.
And then, finally, The World That Never Was. Riku was there. In a new form, yes, but it was Riku. Their hands touched and the ringing burst into song – bells, chimes, singing, a vibration that overtook his chest and finally, Sora knew it was just his heartbeat pounding, begging for the harmony that only Riku had.
“Riku… Riku’s here…” The fact his knees hit the ground was registered last, overshadowed by his searching, begging gaze to see Riku in those bright yellow eyes.
The blush that spread across Riku’s cheeks was his. His pained, bashful glance away, was Riku. It was Riku.
And so, on cloud nine, Sora dove into the final fights against Organization XIII. Reunited with this best friends after so, so long, he fought with renewed vigor – the faster they defeated this evil, the sooner they could go home… The sooner he could fulfill his promise to Kairi. The sooner he could ask Riku the millions of questions that fluttered incessantly in his throat like butterflies trying to break free.
And Riku held the same energy, same eagerness, as they launched themselves into the final battle. They fought Xemnas like a well-oiled machine; like they’d never been apart. Sora knew where Riku would be when to do what, and Riku was there as soon as Sora needed him like he had a sixth sense. They defeated the Nobody, together – like it was destiny. They were unstoppable, again, and Sora felt it in his blood in a dizzying, overwhelming wave like when they closed the door so long ago.
But this time, they sat side by side in the dark.
Even in the calm, black expanse, Sora’s heart was racing. It was just them, the universe saved, and so finally, they could talk, right?
Riku started first, hesitant and soft, admitting the unthinkable: that he was jealous of Sora. For a moment, it made Sora’s head spin, because for so long he wanted nothing more than to be like him. But they were past that, weren’t they? They were something else now; it was on the tip of Sora’s tongue, ready to finally say what he’d wanted to say for a whole year, searching and searching and searching–
“Well, there is one advantage to being me… Something you could never imitate,” Riku said, his voice on the edge of a tease – it made Sora so giddy, he’d missed Riku’s wit so much–
“Really?” Sora asked, leaning toward Riku’s shoulder, reveling that it was warm. “What’s that?”
“Having you for a friend,” he said.
And that was. Not.
Maybe it was something in the way he said it… Or the way he looked straight ahead, not meeting Sora’s eyes. The way he sat so very still, like he hadn’t noticed Sora so close at all. It made everything fall so… flat. And suddenly, Sora wondered, had Riku forgotten? What he said?
He thought back to the start of this year-long journey, how he woke up and just… Knew what to do. Find Riku at all costs. Find Riku to ask him if he said it, if he meant it still, if, if, if. And then it turned into… something else, as he kept looking, and thinking, and dreaming and– What if that memory wasn’t even his? When he traveled, there were friends who had forgotten him the whole time he slept. Had Riku forgotten, like them? Or was it Sora, who had invented this tale, maybe in a dream?
Was it all just in his head?
“Then I guess…” Sora said, mouth dry, words trying to sound light but failing, “I’m okay the way I am.” Friends, Sora thought, and let the disappointment settle in like the emptiness and ringing. “I’ve got something you could never imitate, too.”
And soon after that, they went home.
Sora couldn’t forget what Riku had said in the Realm of Darkness, or the memory that he’d obsessed over for a year, every detail still ingrained like the veins of his body – even though he tried. His questions festered like bubbles under his skin. Worse, they returned to a home that had forgotten they were gone – so much so that even their parents thought they had been there the whole time. Their high school was flabbergasted they had no grade records for the past two years. It was exhausting, even more than world-hopping to Sora.
Maybe Riku felt the same way, or maybe he could just see it in Sora’s eyes but, while Kairi went to school, Sora and Riku skipped for days in a row, with the promise they’d study over the weekend. That never happened, at least so far. And Sora waited and waited for them to talk but that never happened either, even with his best efforts.
In fact, anytime Sora mentioned the things Riku did while they were apart, he seemed to have some other, deflecting comment about it.
“How's your side?”
“It's fine; you healed it as much as it could be, you goof.”
“Well you protected me, it's only right…” Sora reached for his healed side without thinking, just wanting that simple, physical reassurance all was well. “Thanks, R-”
Riku winced away from Sora’s outstretched fingers.“Its fine, protecting you is what's most important to me.” He looked away, catching himself. “Because you're my best friend.” It sounded more like a reminder than a reason.
He said almost the same thing when Sora tried to thank him for protecting him as he slept, but Riku looked so pained by the topic Sora dropped it. Though they were always together, it felt like there was an invisible wall separating them: Sora could see through it but couldn't pass. All the mixed messages left Sora dizzy, spinning like a broken compass as he tried to tread the line between what best friends were, and whatever they really were. And Sora hadn't scoured the galaxy to find him only to be held away at arms length.
But Destiny Islands were the same as ever. Toes in the wet sand and sun low on the horizon, the two sat side by side at the water’s edge. Kairi had left maybe an hour ago before the water crept up to them for dinner and homework. And it was so normal that it wasn't, so much like before everything that staring on the same sunset memorized on his retinas made Sora sick. He looked at Riku instead.
“How long do you think we can keep skipping?” Sora asked him, head lolling lazily toward him. He tried to sound nonchalant, as if that could hide everything that was in between the lines.
Arms stretched across his knees, Riku tilted his chin to face Sora, eyes bright but a little far away in thought. “I think we get suspended on day number twelve,” he said, “…if we are here that long.”
So Riku did feel it too, the uncertainty and apathy that none of this would matter. They were home, but how long? How long before the universe called on them again?
It was the urgency Sora needed. He couldn't be separated from Riku again without knowing for sure; he’d go crazy. So Sora shuffled in the sand closer, the ocean water lapping at his upper calves now, their shoulders close enough to touch. Sora didn't fail to notice how Riku watched in interest, and tensed when he drew near.
“Remember…” Sora swallowed, steeling himself despite all his doubts, “remember when we closed the door? The first time?”
Riku looked away, long hair shielding whatever expression he made. “Yeah, seems forever ago now,” he said carefully. Sora frowned.
“Remember when–”
“Closing that door made this world bigger, right?” Riku continued, looking out over the water to a familiar, small island, “The play islands are so small, compared to this one… It used to be a prison, to me. Was why I… why I destroyed everything. But now…”
“Riku,” Sora said, sad and exasperated and increasingly mad. How many times would Riku lament causing this world to fall to darkness? How many times would Riku deflect what Sora was saying? God, he didn't even care about the islands right now! “You know, I didn't forget,” Sora said, voice a little hard. He felt his eyebrows knit together in frustration.
“I know you won’t,” Riku said, words sad and tinged with regret. “I don’t expect you to just… forgive me.”
What? They weren’t even talking about the same thing, were they? Sora felt a fire light in his chest, like the sound of a match scratching and catching life. Before he could stop himself, he whirled in the sand toward the other teen. “No, Riku, I– I meant that I didn't forget when you told me you loved me!”
Riku visibly tensed, head snapping up and mouth left slightly ajar in a silent gasp. Even the air seemed to still to Sora as he waited for Riku to say something, anything, but no. He just stared like a deer in the headlights.
And it was like Sora was a balloon that’d popped. “I can't believe this. Did you really think I’d forget? Riku, why do you think I was searching so hard to find you?”
More anti-climatic stunned silence. It all but confirmed that Sora had been right this whole time – because he knew beyond a doubt that if Sora was spouting something Riku had never heard before, he’d say something. But, god, this wasn’t how Sora wanted to be right either.
Even though every fiber of him wanted to stay incensed, he felt tears collecting at the sides of his eyes as he accepted everything being right meant. “You waited to tell me until you knew I couldn’t say anything back, and then you apparently avoided me for a whole year even though you knew I was looking for you!”
Riku winced. Two embarrassingly big tears slid down Sora’s cheeks as he grabbed Riku’s limp hand in his lap, bulldozing past it. “And now we’re finally together, and you won’t let me talk to you! Like, I don’t know, you’re scared of me or something. Don't you– don't you at least trust me after all this?” Sora wiped the sides of his face roughly with his free hand, though it didn't help; with no gloves he just wiped his tears into his hair.
Riku shifted to mortified, hand twitching to grip Sora’s back. “Sora, of course I–”
“No, you don’t! I’m your best friend, and yet you thought, what? I'd never talk to you again if I knew? Riku, I’ve noticed how you look at me like, before the Xemnas fight? Or how you literally sacrifice yourself for me?” Riku looked like he was going to object, but Sora glared. “The scars on your side prove it. Don’t deny it.”
“Listen, I–”
“No, you listen. I can’t keep guessing what’s going through your head, when what you do and what you say don’t line up. And I can’t go another year of you avoiding me, like– Didn't I prove I’d do anything to be with you again?” He remembered what Riku had said, that he didn’t want Sora to see him like that. “It didn't matter what you looked like,” he finished softer, chest lighter like a weight had been lifted. He sniffed again, but kept his gaze steady, scrutinizing on his best friend.
Riku gazed back, no longer reeling. Sora could see the wheels spinning in his head, eyes flitting up and down Sora’s face like he was deciding something.
But Sora just wanted Riku to understand. Softly, imploringly, he asked, “Did it really never occur to you that I lo–”
Sora didn't finish, because Riku silenced him. He closed the short space between them with one hand cupping Sora’s cheek, directing their course so fast Sora didn’t get to think twice. Their lips met, chaste but true and yearning, and Sora’s world that had stopped when the doors closed suddenly began spinning two-fold. His heart fluttered like happy chimes shaken by the wind – a ringing Sora would happily listen to forever. The warmth and smoothness of Riku’s lips were something he thought only existed in dreams or fairy tales – even though he’d witnessed a lot of the latter – but it was so overwhelming Sora felt that warmth spread all over his face in a blush.
When Riku pulled away, he didn’t take his hand on Sora’s face with him; instead, he passed a thumb over his cheek with a dumb, admiring look. And it was Sora’s turn to be a deer in the headlights, mouth slack and everything. Riku actually chuckled, lips curled in this quirky smile that made Sora defensive and gooey at the same time.
Sora weakly scoffed, like he couldn’t believe this, staring between Riku’s eyes which were way too bright and clear and exhilarated for someone who’d just been lectured, and his lips that (wow) had just kissed him. “He-hey, just kissing me doesn’t change how mad I am!” Sora exclaimed, for both of them, “I–”
But Riku swooped in, and kissed him again. Sora felt the blood rush into his ears, kissing back instinctually, a happy light-headedness setting in until he remembered, oh yeah, he’s still supposed to be mad. He pulled away, not nearly far enough, only an inch between them, and said, “I am so angry, and you can’t just win me over with–”
Sora should have known from Riku’s growing grin, but the teen cut him off again. Pulling him in at the back of his neck, Riku’s fingers tangled in the back of Sora’s head and– that made it very difficult to remember anything back the pleasant shiver it sent through his spine. This time, when Riku pulled away, Sora mumbled like a grumpy toddler, “Okay, you kinda can.”
Riku snorted in amusement again, paused as he watched Sora, and said, “I– I’m sorry.”
Sora knit his eyebrows together so fast, frowning indignantly, that Riku clarified immediately, “For avoiding you, I mean. Not for…” he had the audacity to blush, “yeah.”
Sora exhaled. After so long of waiting and wondering, now feeling every wall fall down between them was exhilarating. Sora wiped the sides of his eyes again.
“I feel like every time we are together I make you cry,” Riku said, sheepish. He passed a thumb under Sora’s eye to check.
Sora ignored it with a grin and a shake of his head. “Hey Riku, tell me again?” He leaned into his hand; it was warm and calloused and perfect.
Clearing his throat softly, near nervously, Riku replied, “I– uh– I love you, Sora.” Placing a resting kiss on Sora’s forehead, he finished in a mumble, “Always have.”
Sora wrapped his arms around Riku’s waist, hugging him close. Made it feel more real, Riku’s warmth and strong back tangible under his fingertips through his shirt. Smiling ear to ear, Sora answered, “I love you, too. And, I forgive you.”
“Thanks,” he muttered into Sora’s hair. For a single moment, it felt like a drop of rain had fallen on Sora’s shoulder, but the sky was completely clear. So he just held Riku tighter.
They stayed like that, together, long after the sun finished disappearing past the horizon line. With a little convincing and reassurance, both slipped through Sora’s open window into his room and collapsed fully clothed on Sora’s tiny twin sized bed. They fell asleep fingers intertwined, and Sora grinned at the funny, utterly normal concern at what his parents would think in the morning if they opened the door.