#ienzoku

He shook his head to clear away the headache. “My eyes are tired,” he said. “That’s all.”

“Why don’t you take a break? Get yourself some coffee? You’ve been in here since early this morning.”

“It’s alright.” When he went to sit back down, his knees were weak; he had to grip the back of the chair.

Ansem smiled sadly. “You cannot do your best work if you’re not rested. Go on, Ienzo.”

“And get some sleep,” Even snapped, not looking up. “You’re too young to look that exhausted.”

“Pot, kettle, black. Minus perhaps the youth.”

He scowled. Ienzo saw Ansem trying not to laugh.

The hallways were dark and cold, despite best efforts to repair the shattered lighting. He walked back in a haze, his headache throbbing worse. He used to never be prone to such things.

He saw Dilan in the distance. Neither he nor Aeleus wanted to join in the research, content enough to split their time on construction and guard duty; though it wasn’t like there was much to guard these days. Ienzo could not blame them. He actually envied them, their ability to just leave behind that chapter of their lives. But Ienzo had been the one to volunteer his knowledge, after all. If so many lives had to be lost for what they learned, best to use it for good.

“Stray’s at the door for you,” he said. Rather than the deep blue guard uniform, he was in paint-spattered overalls.

“I’ve told him he’s welcome to come right on up,” Ienzo said, shaking his head. “I don’t know why he always waits at the door.”

“It’s polite,” Dilan said, rolling his eyes. “Though I don’t recall that one being so polite in the past.”

Ienzo shrugged. He didn’t want to think of that time if he could avoid it. Easier to treat Riku like a blank canvas, a stranger. Ienzo suspected that he might do the same. He gathered himself, loosened his ascot just slightly, and went outside.

“Riku. Hello. I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

He looked a bit sheepish. “I know you said you’d call if you found out anything major--”

“Yes. That is true.” He tried for a smile, found it too difficult. “There’s nothing new yet. Nothing that we didn’t already guess, anyway.”

“...Right.” He dropped his eyes. In the past several weeks since they’d been doing all this, his hair had started to grow out of the brisk spikes and hung, ungelled, around his eyes.

“I do hope you didn’t come all this way for this,” Ienzo said.

He shook his head. “The committee was helping me with something.”

“...Oh, Sora’s data?”

“Yes.”

“That actually sounds very interesting.”

He chuckled. “Honestly, it’s more like videogames than anything. It’s all just fight data. No memories.” He sighed.

“...Oh.”

An awkward pause. Ienzo had been trying not to look at Riku directly, focusing instead on his unkempt hair, which seemed more white than silver in this light. But actually seeing the young man’s face made him realize that Riku was exhausted too. “I shouldn’t keep you,” he said. “You seem like a busy person.”

“Will you go home, then?”

This seemed like the wrong thing to say; Riku tensed. “No, not home. Not yet.” He brushed at his bangs, but they just flopped back in his eyes. “I’ve been asked to keep an eye on the Land of Departure. Kind of like housesitting, to be honest.” A nervous smile. “I don’t mind it.”

“Land of Departure? You mean--”

Riku’s smile faded. “You know it as Castle Oblivion.”

A long, tremulous pause. Ienzo saw it without meaning to--the fight on the imaginary Destiny Islands, a brutal slash to the back, a basement corner, Axel, the puppet’s hands closing around his throat--

“...You okay?”

He jerked a little. This Riku was not that Riku. He was older, taller, his voice a bit deeper. But the color of his eyes was the same. “I’m sorry,” he stammered.

“...I know. Lotta bad memories wrapped up in that place. But it’s… it’s not the same.”

“Logically I knew one came from the other, but…” Ienzo shook his head.

Another pause, longer than the last.

“You, and me,” Riku said slowly. “If we’re going to be working closely with her, for her… we can’t… skirt around it much, can we.”

“...I guess not. It doesn’t seem like starting over has been much help, yes?”

“Right. Look, I don’t… hold it against you.”

This surprised him. “You don’t? But--”

A sigh. “Look, I’ve also done things I regret. A lot of things. Holding onto all that… being mad at others, or myself… doesn’t help, and doesn’t make sticking to the new path any easier.” Riku shrugged. “You guys are trying to be better. That’s what matters.”

Riku’s words were evoking something sharp and tight in him. He wasn’t sure what it was. “You don’t have to forgive me.”

“I want to,” he said, and he seemed to mean it. “You don’t have to forgive me, either.”

“You did nothing wrong in that scenario. It’s different--” He felt a flush rising in his face.

Riku shook his head. “Not really.”

Ienzo wasn’t sure what to say. The feeling threatened to strangle him--

“As much as I’d love to philosophize more on the meaning of darkness, I should get going,” he said, with a small smile. “Sorry for dropping by.”

“It’s… fine…” Ienzo said, dropping his eyes. “Safe travels.”

He watched Riku walk off, trying to swallow down the feeling. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. The memories here were bad enough, much less the ones there.

He went inside and decided to try and sleep. Ienzo had never been very good at sleep, not as Zexion, either. Nobodies did not require sleep; it was a much more voluntary process. As was eating and drinking water. The nothingness in their beings could sustain, if willed.

Humanity really felt so intense and so fragile, like he was a piece of glass being flung across the room, waiting for the fall.

Ienzo decided to take a bath, as though the hot water would finally will him into submission. He did miss how clean that castle was, how nothing was broken, how it didn’t take minutes for the water to warm. After the world’s fall, the majority of Radiant Garden--especially the castle--was in abject disrepair. When he was a child, it had taken a full staff to keep the place clean, well-kept, but it had been so--

Memories everywhere he turned. They just felt so--achingly sharp. He didn’t want to think at all.

Ienzo took a deep breath and slid under the water, rendering the off-white tile into ripples.

---

Riku was bored.

No; this was an understatement. The more time he spent here, alone, in the Land of Departure, the more he felt like his mind was turning to mush. The hallways were too wide and too empty, and everything was so quiet. His own footsteps and breath seemed deafening in comparison.

Riku was not used to quiet. If it weren’t for the whispering of Heartless, or the ambient sounds of busy and inhabited worlds, then there were other sounds, like the hush of waves in the distance. He could tell that he was the only person alive here. At first he’d tried to convince himself he liked the peace.

The peace just made him aware of how empty everything was, and how alone he was. At least if he’d been alone on his quests in the past, he had a goal, something to word towards, and in a way that goal hadn’t changed; bringing his friends home safe. Going back to normal. But normal hadn’t been so great either, had it? He’d been so eager to escape it, that so-called prison.

But right now… there wasn’t much for Riku to do to help achieve that goal. All he had to do was wait .

Riku had never been that good at waiting. For several days he roamed the grounds around the castle, looking for Heartless or Nobodies or Dream Eaters or Unversed or something to fight, some small evil to purge or free. But it was clear that there was nothing here, nothing to give him diversion from how utterly useless he felt.

So much for being a Keyblade master. His title felt silly, useless. He was literally just house sitting. For all his supposed power, he couldn’t help Kairi in her sleep or Sora… wherever he was.

If he was at all.

Riku forced the thought from his mind and got up from the bed in the room he’d been sleeping in. Terra had said to make himself comfortable, and there did seem to be a whole lot more unoccupied space for Keybearing students. But still, using someone else’s space made him… uneasy. He even wished he had something to clean , but in one of her many small notes left to him, Aqua had said there were spells that banished grime, and not to worry about it. (It had been kind of funny, though, the first time he spilled some tea; it disappeared into nothing.)

It was clear this place had been a home, some eleven years ago. Riku allowed himself to explore a few rooms a day, aware that, unlike in Castle Oblivion, the space here was finite. It would end. If he wasted it all in one big sweeping day of exploration, then what?

It’d be… just quiet. Just him.

He tried to structure his days. Wake up at a certain time, eat at a certain time, train for a certain amount of time. The spinning rings in the courtyard were useful (and made him question what, exactly, they were made out of), but even they were designed for students.

(Try to ignore the nightmares, of that strange city, of Sora, nightmares that faded into nothing as soon as he tried to understand them--)

He tried to read, to study magic with some of Aqua’s many, many spellbooks, but the theory was hopelessly complicated for his already-foggy mind. He kept thinking of Kairi, lying prone in that small white chair. It had been weeks , how come those scientists didn’t have anything new to say--

Patience. Breathe.

Riku got up and started walking.

If he squinted hard, he could see places where aspects of Castle Oblivion had come from. The moulding here. The planter there. The pattern of the wallpaper in some rooms.

Bringing it up had clearly made Ienzo uncomfortable. That had been a dumb, tactless thing to say. And truthfully… when Riku saw those pieces of that place here… his memories burned too. The darkness had crawled up inside of him, threatening to burrow deep and take over. That burning, aching feeling, its weight, its pressure. The inexorable rush of power when it broke through during those battles.

He looked at his palm. That burn didn’t feel the same anymore. He wasn’t sure it would ever go away , but the temptation had changed, become something he could utilize. Like turning on a faucet versus a crack in a dam.

He wondered if the former Organization members felt the same, or if they’d felt the same pull to darkness to begin with. He realized he could just ask , but then remembering how stricken Ienzo had looked, realized equally he couldn’t . But what about DiZ--Ansem the Wise? Had he felt the same? The old man seemed more approachable, despite the fact that Riku knew the dark side of him too.

Such complicated bedfellows. They did seem to… want to be better people.

He’d heard the stories from Leon about what happened in the basement labs. And he’d seen what they were capable of in Castle Oblivion, and the World that Never Was, and…

What of the things he could’ve done, if he hadn’t fought Ansem--the Heartless one? If it hadn’t been for Sora--

Sora. If not for Sora, and Kairi and Mickey, he could’ve ended up on that wrong path for longer, too.