#nortvember

Well, he knew what a Nobody was supposed to be and how all that worked. Xemnas was a warped mirror: the same eyes with a different color, the same purse of the lips with a different grin, the same determined look but armed with a distant anger like it ghosted in his mind.

His voice - his voice - Terra never expected it to sound like that.

“Speechless?” Xemnas cooed before his eyes went cold. He was similar enough that Terra almost expected him to stay quiet - a reflection wasn’t supposed to move on its own. “How disappointing that my Someone is so vapid.”

“I-” Why was he giving him the benefit of a response? “If I’m that boring, don’t you wonder why you’re the one following me around?”

Xemnas didn’t need to wear a scowl when his eyes betrayed him. He reached his hand out, his palm up against the air and his fingers splayed as if framing Terra in between them under an inspection. 

“White wings,” Xemnas said.

Not what Terra was expecting at all. This guy’s weird.

“If I should,” Xemnas continued, “tear them feather by feather, consume them for sustenance, would it satiate? Would it let me grow my own?”

“Excuse me?”

“I have to bear your memories either way.” Xemnas stared hard. “I have to witness your emotions, poured from a full heart... while my own existence numbs to most of what I experience in the now.” He lowered his hand, and looked at its empty palm. “I walk a path that would lead to my eventual destruction, for there is no other purpose for me. If I should take your place, would it satiate, or would the heart I’m growing never be enough to compare?”

Terra had nothing to say. He thought of Naminé, and his belief that she had a right to exist and be happy. Naturally, he felt that Xemnas deserved the same, even if he wore a stolen face. Who was Terra to judge? 

… But he still couldn’t even imagine Aqua tolerating this guy. Wow.

Xemnas wasn’t done with his monologue: “They say a heart has the potential to bear tremendous strength.” Red light flashed, stretching out from one of his palms and joined by the other, two swords now at the ready. “How weak is yours in comparison to the rage you’ve awakened in mine?”

“I don’t have time for you,” Terra spat. “If you don’t know anything about-”

“You’ve left me with little to keep,” Xemnas said with the weight of cold stone.

It was an accusation. Terra had felt something similar - yes, he had some dark thoughts, as any human would do. Wishes that he could have her to himself, guilt for even letting it pass his mind. A proper Keyblade Wielder would let that baggage go.

“She doesn’t belong to you, either,” Terra said.

It seemed like an undeniable truth for the both of them, pressured by the voids they couldn’t fill. 

A flame flickered in Xemnas’ eyes before it died down, and he propelled forward at Terra.

Despite how big he was - definitely a head taller than Terra - he blurred. Gifted with levitation and teleportation, he popped up on one side to strike until he suddenly reappeared on the other to strike again and he was fast. 

All Terra could do was hold still, using his Keyblade to block attacks coming from random directions. He wasn’t spared even partial of a second to move.

So he blocked again and ducked, rolling off the ground to escape the waves of personal grudges his Nobody wasn’t finished venting out. 

“You squirm,” he heard Xemnas say from somewhere. “Have you lost your spine to face me?”

Terra threw himself down a hallway in Ansem’s castle, hiding behind a nook. 

“Pathetic,” Xemnas continued. It sounded like he was carefully traversing down that same hallway. “She surely deserves to have her strength and bravery matched.”

Terra steadied his breathing to catch a moment’s peace to think. The words slapped him and left a mark: they were in agreement there, that Aqua deserved better than what Terra had to offer. But he couldn’t imagine that Xemnas was any better. 

It dawned on him: Xemnas wouldn’t have wasted his time just to taunt him. He knows something.

Many years ago, Terra went on a search for his own strength to find that he lacked so much of it in all the necessary places. 

But he had to do her right. He had to make amends. He had to make his best friend happy. And from this need he would draw his strength and magic. 

He stepped out and faced Xemnas, who was already prepared. 

Terra only hoped that appeasing his mistakes would be enough to withstand the onslaught. He expected it was going to hurt against such an opponent, but that didn’t matter - this was no time to doubt himself.

Feet steady on the earth, imagining that he was as immovable, Terra readied his Keyblade. He thought about her, about Ventus, about the Master’s theories of drawing light to fulfill promises. He had his own to satisfy, a promise that he would set things right. 

And he shone with a light so bright that Xemnas had to cover his eyes. 

****

Terra found her behind the academy, in the Master’s gardens. 

Seeing her tend to the blossoming flower bed made his stomach reach for his throat - as seeing her always did this to him nowadays. Sure, he was the type to be self-conscious sometimes, but now it was so much worse. 

She maintained the flowers so beautifully just by watering the earth, but it also had to be a special kind of magic that only she was capable of giving: the flowers had fresh reasons to live, and they were growing back to the way Eraqus liked them. Aqua looked after many of the smaller things that made the Land of Departure home, while Ventus took care of the maintenance and the rebuilding. 

Her crutches rested on the ground by her - she still used them, and proudly so as though she didn’t have a reason to be ashamed of them. 

Terra was covered in dust and dirt with some bruising, but the more important thing was the large sack he dragged behind him. Aqua noticed it all, and she gave him a smile anyway which he didn’t have the strength to act like he wasn’t swooned by it.

“Got something for you,” he managed to say after clearing his throat, taking a spot on the ground. He left the sack by her side without crushing the flowers.

He couldn’t watch her rummage through it, and instead found comfort in staring at a soft, peach-colored flower by his knee, noticing the fibers on its petals reaching for the sun. 

She gasped. Pulling out her Keyblade, Aqua studied it for scratches and other scars, pieces of her armor still in the sack shining from the sunlight. It was weird... watching two pieces of a whole reunite where they didn’t know if they still fit. 

“Where did you find it?” she asked. 

He could feel her watching him for an answer but he stared at the flower. “Xemnas… he told me.”

“He kept this from me?” Aqua leaned over to see if he was being serious, shaking her head. Her eyes scattered the garden for meaning, for a reason behind everything. “That bastard.” 

The way she spoke about him gave Terra the impression that she had… expectations of Xemnas, as if they were close. 

“... A friend of yours?” 

She clicked her tongue. “Barely a half-decent one.”

If only she knew that in his defeat, Xemnas admitted the location to her Keyblade to Terra.

In his defeat, Xemnas searched for meaning, for a reason behind everything and he found nothing.

“There is no room left for me in her light,” Xemnas had said before he surrendered, and Terra left him behind without a reply. 

Xemnas didn’t know that Terra agreed with that statement, and that Terra felt the same for himself. 

Yeah, Xemnas really disappointed her. It nauseated Terra to see her so affected.

Terra wasn’t sure if he had a right to know more about his Nobody or if it was none of his business to hear what the love of his life felt about this man. 

He didn’t have to ask; she volunteered, “He found a way to connect with me in the Realm of Darkness.” She stroked her Keyblade’s hilt lovingly, thinking about a fond memory. “I didn’t realize it then but... I had begged for so long for someone to talk to and whenever he had the time… I used to look forward to talking to him, and maybe it helped me but his promise to find me gave me the strength to keep going.” 

Hearing this crushed Terra, wrinkling a wave of nausea and hatred and pain in his stomach. He was already a terrible friend to her, that he knew, but it was worse now.

“He did better than I could have ever…” Terra started to say.

“Don’t.” Her glare was as sharp as her command. 

Aqua pursed her lips, her grip on her Keyblade making her knuckles white. “Xemnas did eventually find me… and look what happened.” Her breath shook, her eyes remembering more horrible things. “Xemnas was also cruel, his friends were scared of him and-” 

She swallowed, and continued, “I don’t ever want to hear you compare yourself to him again. You deserve better.”

No, he didn’t, and he was about to say that but her glare turned icier and she shook her head. She wasn’t going to let him rat on about how awful he was. 

It left Terra biting his knuckle to hold it in. He understood it was healthier for him to stop indulging in these thoughts, and he was so aware of what he was doing to himself but he just couldn’t stop.

He took one last glance at the flower, vibrant, raised with all the care and love she was capable of giving. 

Terra mumbled that he was dirty and sweaty and that he should shower, getting up and leaving her to reach for him - but he did not reciprocate. 

He did that a lot - leaving her alone with an empty hand that he wouldn’t hold. It was as if Terra never learned that darkness and self-destruction were one and the same, and if only he would just take her hand when she offered it, then he’d finally step into the light.

But he kept choosing darkness, and why did he let it win all the time?

He led himself to his bedroom, to his shower, to strip naked and stand under the water for an hour until he was raw and red, scrubbing whatever was left of Xemnas off of his skin. 

****

Aqua was walking fine when she came through the doors to the Master’s office. Terra already had the fire going to dry off his newly washed hair, his piled blankets ready to be slept in. Ven’s sleeping bag was tussled right next to them because he never bothered to straighten it out in the morning.

Ventus had started to join their nights at the office, like it was their new camping spot - at least until Aqua healed enough to take long hikes. 

Judging by how smoothly she was performing - not standard just yet - it might be soon that they could return to the wilderness. She still had her crutches strapped across her back, just in case, but she stood proudly by the couch before slumping into its inviting cushions.

She tapped the seat next to her for Terra to take. Too often he gently refused, saying he was fine and comfortable. 

But he took the seat this time, and she beamed. He loved to see her smile, and he pained to see it, too. 

“I fixed it,” she said, and from her pocket she pulled out his orange Wayfinder. 

It was back to normal - almost. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t have enough materials to replace that last petal.”

On said petal was a scratch, interrupting the way the light reflected off of it. There was no telling whether the scratch was born when he carried it (maybe from Stitch?) or if it occured when Xehanort had it. 

“No need,” Terra said, feeling the scratch’s texture under his finger, “it’s perfect.” 

A scar etched right into his Wayfinder, much like he was now, and probably what they all felt deep inside. An immaculate Wayfinder would otherwise just be a lie - this was still his, and she fixed it. 

Aqua was pleased to hear it, rolling blankets on top of her lap. Terra noticed that she got closer to him, as she always did when they were alone. Part of him was sure it was because she didn’t know how else to reach him when he always turned his shoulder on her. He let her do it because he, too, wanted to be near her. 

Then the memory of her seething in rage and walking away reminded him of…

She breathed in deeply, taking in the strong fragrance that no doubt came from his soaked hair. 

Aqua rolled her lips, thinking about what she was going to say before she spilled her honest thoughts: “I like your shampoo.”

He knew this conversation was inevitable. “Thank you.”

“Sandalwood, right?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded slowly, taking in information: his aroma, his tension, his anxiousness. “You shower a lot, Terra.”

His skin was still a bit raw and the heat from the fire didn’t relieve him of it. But she said this to inquire, to give him space to talk. “I have to.”

“Why?” She wasn’t too pressing, just concerned by such a weird answer.

“I feel like I need to, I-” He sighed. “I need to get his stench off of me.”

She blinked, her eyes wavering. “Ah… of course.”

“I still smell it.” His voice gets lower. “Patchouli. It’s disgusting.”

“Hmmm,” she nodded like she understood, and he wondered if she wore the same cologne when she was under Xehanort’s influence. “If it makes you feel any better, Terra, you don’t smell like patchouli. Ever.”

How simply she approached the subject only made him feel silly, especially when it was more complicated than that. 

“It’s…” He shivered. He couldn’t believe he was about to talk about this. “It’s not just that, it’s… I lived a long time - well, not me, but my body… and I don’t remember any of it, and… And I don’t know anything. I don’t know what I was eating, I don’t know who I was talking to or what I was doing, and… I don’t know if I was touching anyone, or hurting anyone, or killing people and it scares me.”

He’s near tears by this point, gripping his forearm with such ferocity that it made the skin there red.

“I can’t live with myself,” he continued, waiting to hear that his fears were all real, waiting to hear from Aqua that he had justifiable reason to worry. “I feel gross and I can’t wipe him off of me.”

It was a problem with no solution, because realistically, there wasn’t anything she could say that could actually confirm anything, and maybe that was worse.

“Terra,” she said sweetly, “he was an awful person, and he plagued everyone, including you. None of it is your fault.”

“I know it’s not.” It just didn’t feel true.

“And you’re not him,” she whispered, as if softening the blow. “You never were, and you’ll never be again. You made sure of that when you freed me.”

“But what about what I’ve done?”

“What he’s done,” she corrected.

“Still, the past-”

“You’re atoning for.” It was blunt but it was gentle. He’d spent his time traveling to different worlds affected by darkness, saving people left and right, answering calls for help - and all without her help and without Ventus. 

In a way, Terra was breaking a promise by not including them in those adventures, since they were supposed to stay together. Neither of them had complained about it, letting him do his thing...

“...Yeah.” 

“Terra… What matters most is what you’re doing. Those people you’re helping - they’d be in trouble now if it wasn’t for you. You’re saving them. There isn’t a light out there like yours. That’s why the Keyblade chose you in the first place.”

She brushed fingers against his hand, almost as if asking him to spare his arm and let it go. “And it’s your body,” she said. “You decide what you want to do with it, and who you’ll let near.” 

She smiled. “Besides, Xehanort didn’t like getting touched.”

That was right, she remembered everything under his influence. “How much do you remember from… ?”

“Almost everything.” She looked down at their touch, and how none of them shied away from it. “The one thing that always comes to mind is believing I was being backstabbed.”

“Really?”

“I was very paranoid and I rarely let anyone near me, yes.” Whatever pain she dealt from that, she sounded like she made peace with it. With her other hand, she massaged one of her thighs, where her dark scars have gotten lighter over time. “The veins are receding. I’m doing better.”

It wasn’t fair; she was stronger than he was, especially since she was actually able to fight Xehanort’s influence - yet she was the one suffering worse consequences.

Terra knew he couldn’t measure - in spite of what she’s been through and what she’s done for him, she manages a small smile every day. 

“I want to see you do better, too,” she said.

“I don’t know how.” I’m not as strong as you.

“You can start by skipping the morning showers,” she chuckled. “You don’t need them if you’re going to bed squeaky clean.”

“Ha,” he scoffed. “You’re going to have to convince me better than that.” 

“Give me time, I’ll find a way.” Her eyes met his, and she asked the most typical question they shared between the two of them, like everything was the way it used to be: “Deal?”

“... Okay. Deal.” 

Their touch lingered, and Terra didn’t want her to let go. He knew that she couldn’t read his mind, and that in time if he didn’t say anything, she’d let him go. He knew he should ask her to keep touching him - yet he didn’t understand why it was so hard to actually say the words. 

He wished it was easier. A part of him even wished that she would show him how to do it.

It seemed the same for her, struggling to say something that halfway scared her. He felt a light pressure on his knuckles, like she was asking to hold his hand.

And he took hers, finally letting himself go.

“Can I?” she asked. 

Could she… what? He didn’t know, but whatever it was, he was fine with it. “Yeah.” 

It was a small movement but she made it slowly, closing the gap in between them and covering his lap with her blanket. She found a soft spot on his shoulder, breathing him in from the collarbone, relaxing into his arm. 

Some bright star far away took pity on him and actually heard his wishes. 

As she nestled, he felt a small smile on her lips brushing up against his shirt. She brought her blanket up to her face and now he didn’t have the space to move away, but this was exactly what he wished for. 

It didn’t take long for her to slow her breathing and fall asleep… she barely stirred, and even though his arm was getting numb, he didn’t want to disturb. He just wanted to watch her - he was allowed to do that, right? To memorize her eyelashes and the way her hair parted as it disappeared under the blanket? 

What finally ruined the peaceful scene was the sound of a door opening, and the moment Ventus noticed what was going on, he shut it as quietly as he could, tip-toeing to his sleeping bag. 

The boys nodded to each other as a greeting.

“Finally,” Ventus whispered. “You guys were taking forever.”

Terra rolled his eyes. Whatever. 

“I mean it,” Ventus said, his whisper just a note louder. “It was just so different between the two of you… and it sucked.”

“I’m sorry,” Terra whispered back. He was being selfish, and never thought about how it affected Ventus.

“It’s fine.” Ventus stared into the fire, crossing his arms. Turning his head back to the scene, he watched Aqua safe and sound in Terra’s arms, her breathing heavier. 

Quietly, he picked up an embroidered foot rest, its mat welcoming for Terra’s ankles, allowing him to rest easier on the couch. 

(But this also meant that he wouldn’t help Terra find his own space to sleep and would rather keep them together like that.)

“Do you think the Master ever knew about the two of you?” Ventus asked. 

The Master’s framed portrait sat on the table right next to Terra, his grin snug behind the mustache, in one of the rarest photos where he allowed expression reach his eyes. 

There were moments where Eraqus passed Terra knowing looks, pulled him aside to talk about sexual health, and made sure he received long lectures about the strength of emotions, of bonds, of unbreakable connections, of learning how to fall in love, and why there were important for the strength of the Keyblade - and of their downfalls as well. All of that made Terra think about Aqua and then blush at the thought but he pretended otherwise. 

Maybe the Master knew, maybe he didn’t. 

“I don’t know, Ven.”

Ventus nodded, straightening out his sleeping bag. Tucking himself and leaning on his elbow, he played with a loose strand that stuck out of the seams. “It doesn’t matter I guess. It’s been very awkward between the two of you and I don’t think… I don’t think the Master would have wanted that.” 

Terra stammered. 

“You’re better together,” Ventus said. “You’re stronger that way.”

He was serious, and whether or not the Master would have agreed if he was alive wouldn’t change what had happened earlier that day - Terra’s bright light against Xemnas for the sake of reuniting Aqua with the extension of her very soul and heart. 

Or even the strength he found when he did everything he could to get her back.

None of it compared to her sacrifice, however, and how many years she spent alone - something that neither Terra nor Ventus would have survived. 

Aqua was the strongest of the three, that was Terra’s opinion. The most fierce, the most brave... Now she was the most vulnerable, asleep in his arms.

There once was a day when he (not he) strangled her. 

****

The next morning, Terra was the last to wake up. Sitting upright all night wasn’t comfortable and delayed all promise of rest, but he kept it up anyway for her. 

What woke him up was the sunlight beaming through the windows. Aqua’s soft footsteps approached him, and he mumbled a wary hello because he decided to go back to sleep.

Then cold struck him, like a thousand soft feathers.

Loose flower petals cascaded onto him, their lavender scent conquering his nose, and he jolted up, spitting them out of his mouth and rubbing them off of his face.

It was going to take a long time to clean out the pile on his lap, which was already throwing itself onto the floor like a purple waterfall. 

Aqua held an empty basket. 

He rubbed his eyes harder to make sure he understood correctly. “Why?”

“I figured if you smelled good…” she started and he couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. From her pocket, she pulled out a vial plugged with a cork, and opened it. She then hovered it above his head. “Maybe you’d skip the morning shower.”

“This was your bright idea?”

“Is it working?” 

“You’re crazy.” He sighed but it was an amusing sight: Aqua threatening him with scented oils, reading his eyes to gauge an answer from him. “I won’t shower, I promise.”

She nodded slowly, as if egging him on to promise again, and when he didn’t - when she knew that he wasn’t going to keep it - she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I have to do it.”

Oil poured onto his head, soaking parts of his hair and jumping onto his shoulders. It was lavender-scented as well. 

With a promise that she’d clean it up later, Aqua thanked him for being a good sport and left alone (very proudly). 

He had to say it worked: the perfume was so strong that it electrified him. 

There was no way that a shower would be able to scrub this off anytime soon. 

****

He announced to the both of them later that he was going to stay in the castle with them for the day. 

Aqua and Ventus had done such a marvelous job at fixing up the castle, Terra only realized now how much it had improved since he spent everyday away from them. With the dust cleaned up and the debris gone, the hallways looked brighter, and Aqua was finding all the right places to arrange the paintings.

If he didn’t have her back, the castle would have stayed foreign to him.

There was still enough damage - collapsed ceilings, blocked entrances, stairways with holes - that Ventus wasn’t able to handle by himself, considering Aqua’s condition.

At first, Ventus gave him a hard time (pssh, took you long enough to offer… and shit, are you wearing perfume?) but the first order of business that needed immediate attention was the lounge in the eastern wing of the castle. The hallways here were still muddy, and the lounge in question disgusted Terra enough that they went to search for gas masks and thick gloves before going back in there. 

As soon as the two boys fastened their masks and made sure they could breathe out of them, they measured what they had to work with: the outer wall was blown open, and years of rain left the room with masses and veins of black mold. The furniture had fuzz growing on them, the books soft and falling apart, the wood stained with mushrooms. It was humid. 

There were so many memories of them studying in here, and now they had no chance to relive them.

The plan was to take hammers to the infested drywall, gather them in a pile with the furniture, and burn the disease away - start over with a newly cleansed room, so they could remove all darkness away from their castle for good.

It was the best they could come up with.

“Terra, do you think mold could actually like… possess us?”

“What are you talking about?” Terra pulled apart a large chunk of drywall, holding it where it was dry because the other end was completely covered in black.

“You read those weird, creepy books,” Ventus huffed, throwing a dirty chair on top of a dirty couch. “Is there a world out there where mold turns people into monsters?”

There actually was.

Terra wiped sweat off his forehead. This job was going to take several days. “You need to control your imagination or you’ll get nightmares.”

“You sound like Aqua.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re supposed to be the cool guy. Who turned you into a mom?”

“Aqua is like our mom?” Terra laughed, his voice contained in his mask. 

“... Are you that obsessed with her that you never noticed?”

Terra rammed his giant hammer to start the breaking of another piece. He chose to ignore the question. 

“How’s it going?” Aqua’s voice said and he nearly jumped. She stood at the doorway to keep her distance, but it was still too close to the mess for it to be safe.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Ventus said, “No mask, no entry.” 

“I want to help,” was her answer. 

He grunted. Ventus knew better than to argue with her, and they both knew that when she was ready to help, there was no stopping her. 

They gathered what little they could bring together into a heap on the middle of the floor (and Terra realized he’ll have to tackle the mold under the ceramic tile, too), and gave her the space to do her magic.

Aqua took a few moments to breathe - Terra at first worried it was due to the unhealthy air quality, but she was simply meditating. 

She summoned her own Keyblade (for the first time in years), and when it sparked in her hand, she shivered, and bent over in tears. 

“... You’re so surprised,” Terra said gently, his voice half-muted in the mask.

“I was worried it wasn’t going to recognize me.” She had her free hand over her heart, gripping it like it was going to pop out. “Not after everything I turned into.”

With earnest, she completely forgot that Terra’s own Keyblade still worked for him after years of being someone else. He didn’t point that out to her, because he once felt the same when he finally woke up, scared of what would happen the first time he called for it. 

They were fine. Their hearts were fine.

“Okay,” she stated - her grit was something to be admired, willing away all those horrid thoughts quickly to get herself ready and Terra remembered he still had so much basic skills to learn to be a proper Master. 

The plan was a simple Fire spell to get it started.

What she conjured was a blast, setting off a huge bang and a tornado of flames engulfed the infested mass. Aqua barely summoned a barrier for all of them, and the three Keyblade wielders were thrown out into the hall. 

Heat licked the hallway and Terra sweated beads. Aqua slumped onto the floor, her Keyblade dismissed. 

Already she had trouble getting on her feet. By his instinct, he held her, and by her instinct, she gripped his shirt as if to say she was fine. 

The fire roared until it simmered into its hub, burning like a wide mountain that would threaten them again if not tamed.

It was supposed to be a simple Fire spell. Simple.

Aqua melted into a fit of chuckles from her work. 

“She’s gone crazy,” Ventus said, refusing to take off his mask. “It’s the mold, it got her.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, her laughter strangling her. “I’ve spent,” she gasped again, “a long time fighting Heartless and I completely forgot I was supposed to take it easy.”

All Terra and Ventus did was stare at her while she melted away again - it was such a depressing sentiment and here she was laughing about it. Terra didn’t know if he should join her. 

“Well, I’ll be the one to put it out,” Ventus sighed. “Seeing I’m the only one around here who’s not a looney.”

And he did good, using ice magic to quell the flames, whipping the snow into his Aero spells in a retort every time the flames rebelled. 

Terra would have helped but Aqua didn’t let him go. She held onto his shirt, taking her other hand to his wrist. 

“What’s up?”

She blinked a few times, something that looked like relief overcoming her face. She just seemed… in awe that she was holding him.

“Don’t get mad at me?” she asked.

“... Why would I get mad at you?” 

“Whatever it is,” Ventus yelled from the other room, still attacking some stubborn flames with Blizzard spells, “I agree with her!”

She rolled her lips inward to contain another fit. “Just, please don’t be mad,” she asked again.

Terra scoffed. “The both of you are ridiculous.”

“You’re the one who sticks by us,” she said. 

It only took Ventus yelling, “Oh sure, leave me all alone and defenseless here!” to snap them out of it. Aqua still couldn’t stand, and Terra told her it was okay if she stayed behind as he went to help - throwing ice magic from her position probably would have done massive damage anyway, the stars forbid.

After the sun set and everything was calm, they decided that burning the castle down wasn’t the best idea to deal with the mold.

The silence that followed a roaring fire was eerie - Terra never realized just how peaceful it was in the Land of Departure, and whether he should find comfort in that or be on edge. 

His room especially lay still, and he knew that the other two were somewhere close but it didn’t shake the feeling off. 

Actually, Terra realized why it was so much better sleeping in the Master’s office - his bedroom smelled of cologne. Patchouli cologne to be exact. 

He was covered in sweat, ash, and dust already. He had all the justification to scrub himself clean. 

But his shampoo and soap were nowhere to be found. What stood in their place were Aqua’s toiletries, packaged in bright colors.

“You expect me to use this?” he asked out loud as he picked the shampoo bottle up to read the ingredients.

Most of it didn’t make sense to him: just a heap of natural oils and promises of softer, more luscious hair. It was so Aqua’s - it didn’t belong in his bathroom but her thoughts were the reason why he was holding them now.

Her shampoo bottle had her personal touch, as much as anything else she did to make him feel like she saw him. 

She knew him, just like she knew exactly how much he was stressed about the Mark of Mastery exam and she made sure to arrange his egg yolks and his bacon to form a smile every morning for a week to cheer him up. 

She knew him well enough to hear what he never admitted: that he really despised the way he smelled because it made him think of how easily he allowed Xehanort to possess him, and made him think of how much of a failure he truly was so she made sure that he’d smell like her instead. 

In this bottle was everything he truly needed, and it made him cry.

****

The wind howled like it was alive, throwing what sounded like a woman’s wails against the windows of the Master’s office. Since Terra was the first inside, he’d have to listen to such racket by himself, prompting him to double check that they were all locked and wouldn’t be thrown open.

The rattling strangely got more violent, like the banging came from the inside, and it took a moment to realize that it came from the door - Aqua, who was leaning on her crutches, struggled to open it. 

He rushed over to keep it open for her and close it behind her - Aqua would refuse any more help.

She slumped on the couch with a content sigh; it had to be exhausting to make so much progress in her therapy only to backpedal again. But she kept her head high regardless. 

This time, Terra promptly agreed when she motioned for him to sit by her.

With her was their journal, the white leather cover stained a bit by fingerprints. Before opening it, though, she flashed him a grin.

“I like your shampoo,” she smugly said.

“It’s hard to smell Xehanort when I only smell like…” You. That was the truth. “Vanilla.”

She was pleased to hear it. “It’s a good scent.”

“What happened to mine?”

Aqua proceeded to open the journal and flip past the middle of it, where a velvet bookmark showed her where she left off. She rolled her lips inward because she wasn’t going to answer his question.

“Ah, you’re using it.”

“It’s a good scent,” she said through her beaming teeth.

Terra decided that her smile was worth it. “Thanks, Aqua.”

She hummed, turning her attention to the written words on the page. Often they’d go through this journal together, and he’d tell her stories of what happened that put those words and pictures there.

Aqua knew she didn’t remember the journal because her memories tied to it were also tied to whatever memory she gave up in order to save Ventus… of course, she didn’t remember what she gave up either.

Terra never told her - and never will - that the memory she gave up was of their first kiss.

“I was doing some reading on my own,” she said, tracing the page, “and I came across these letters we wrote to each other?”

He didn’t have to read to know what they were. 

“There was something,” she continued, “you wrote that just really warmed my heart.” 

He held his breath as she read (she didn’t know it hurt him, either):

“I know exactly what you mean. But I think we will be okay. The Master always said that it's important to watch out for each other. That's what I felt I was doing when I lied. I don't ever want to regret doing that. You're usually better at understanding some of his more obscure lessons than I am. I know you'll look out for me too.

That's why we'll always be best friends.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before she dared to speak again. “I’m glad it’s always been that way with us.”

“Do you remember what led to that, Aqua?”

“No… I wish I did.”

Terra took a tight breath. “The Master took us to a world, and there was an accident with a bear. It attacked us, and to protect me, you attacked it back-”

She inhaled. 

“Don’t worry,” he chuckled, “the bear was fine. But I lied to the Master and said I was the one who did it.” He could remember it so clearly, like it was yesterday. It happened when he was fifteen which was… seventeen years ago. “He caught the lie.”

The breath she held, she spit out. “That mustn’t have gone well.”

“It didn’t. He separated us as punishment but… we never stopped writing to each other.”

She smiled at him, searching his eyes. “That’s why we’ll always be best friends,” she recited. 

If she still believed that, then it was safe for Terra to agree. It was when he admitted to her all those years ago that he never regretted the letters that she kissed him for the first time. 

It made him wonder. “Did it… make you remember anything?”

She shook her head, looking back down at the journal. “For some reason, it makes me think of the time you screwed up a spell and turned Ven’s hair black.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” she burst into laughter. “Oh, I was so mad. We tried washing it-”

It crawled to him. One image of poor Ventus crying about his hair. “And counterspells didn’t work.”

“No.”

“And I lied to the Master and said that Ven was lost in the woods-”

“To hide him and you know, we got into so much trouble for that.”

Terra laughed to himself. “Ven was the only one who didn’t get grounded.”

“Which was never fair,” she said. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Then why-”

“Because I didn’t stop you.” She smirked.

“So that made you my accomplice.” The Master never changed. 

“Still wasn’t fair.” She flashed him a bigger grin. “I’ll never get involved in your antics again.”

“Probably for the best.”

“Maybe.” There was a glint in her eye that made him feel as though she realized… finally realized that she wasn’t alone. 

Aqua was about to turn to the next page -

“The rest is blank,” Terra said. They never needed the journal anymore after that point. “Those were the last entries.”

But it didn’t stop her from turning it. Sure, the pages after were blank, except for one shred of fabric with inked scrawls tucked into the spine. Aqua straightened it out to read:

“Find him. May your heart be your guiding key. You just need the right one.

“It cannot break.

“It hurts so much.”

Aqua stared at the stained wording, that one chance she took to give Terra clues to find Ventus. She rubbed a thumb over the ink as her eyes went glassy. “I remember writing this.”

She lowered it back into the journal, droplets plummeting from her eyes and tapping the surface of the pages. 

Terra’s heart pounded; he kept the note because he wanted to treasure whatever was left of her, back when he believed that he’d never see her again.

“I was arguing with myself,” she said, wiping the tears but they kept coming. “Whether I should write it and… It should have come so naturally to me to want to save Ven but I couldn’t-” She sobbed once. “It hurt so much and I was too scared of what would happen if I just let go and let him take over me, and I- I didn’t understand why these terrible things kept happening to us.”

It was hard not to feel that Terra was the reason why she was crying right now. “I’m so sorry, Aqua,” he whispered. “You didn’t deserve to get taken like that, you should have let me fall-”

She stopped crying so quickly that the silence hushed the room, ignoring that Terra had his own tears to contend with, acting like the howling from the outside didn’t exist. 

“No,” she said.

“No?” 

“Even if…” She licked her lips. What she was about to say scared her. “Even if I knew exactly what was going to happen, Terra, I… I would have still saved you.”

It willed him into silence, his own tears in shock of what he was hearing.

Her eyes scattered the room, the journal, the fireplace, everything but him as she found her words in different places. “I would do it all again, too… I don’t have any regrets. I know you. I know you would have been there for me - and you were. You were there when you put me to sleep, and you were there when I woke up -”

She choked a little, and found the courage to look at him, her eyes still a beautiful blue, blue like shallow water, blue like the mid-afternoon sky, blue like the color that made life precious. “And I hurt you,” she said, “and I’m sorry.” 

Terra had to remember to find his own voice. “I- It’s fine-”

“It hurt, Terra,” she said, her voice calmer, like she was ready to jump and take flight to whatever uncharted territory awaited her. “To think about you because…” Tears fell again. “Because I thought I lost you forever and I made you sad and… it reminded me that I was alive when I didn’t want to be.” 

She only took a moment’s pause to make sure he was looking right into her eyes as she said, “And that’s because I love you, too.”

The only movement accompanying the flicker of the flames in the fireplace were their breaths, their eyes silent as they stared and searched for inner truths. 

She loved him, too. She loved him, too.

Aqua managed a small smile. “I still don’t have regrets.”

Terra wanted to kiss her. Or hug her, or thank her, or take a walk and recover his thoughts, or start over, or anything besides staring at her like an idiot but he didn’t know the next step like he expected that any movement on his part would make him cry harder. 

She blinked a few times, biting her lip like she was waiting for him to do something.

“Okay,” he managed to say. 

Her brows cocked. It was an awful thing to say.

He licked his lips and looked at his hands and he wasn’t sure what to do with them. 

It made her laugh and it reminded him of when he first started fighting with a Keyblade, when the Master told him after a frustrated fit that beginnings were always the most arduous. 

Aqua removed the journal from her lap and crawled toward him, taking his face in her hands and pressed her lips on his. 

It tasted salty, of tears, but it was a warm drink and it left him thirsty for more. She gave him a second, then a third, and he’d thank her for making it easy on him but he was busy.

Terra was about to ask her for another after she stopped - when she looked over his shoulder and hid her entire face into the crook of his neck. 

“What?” He looked over his shoulder to face none other than the framed portrait of his Master smugly watching from the side table, his grin wide and hidden behind that beloved mustache. 

“Oh, um,” Terra chuckled, and Aqua snickered into his shirt. He asked for forgiveness and gently tipped the picture over on its face, hiding the Master’s eyes from the scene before it. 

Eventually she took a peek to find they were safe from any judgment, her laughter leaving her desperate for breath. 

They locked eyes, melting into hysterics that mutually agreed they had the weirdest lives. 

Aqua studied his face, mostly his eyes, as she brushed his hair with her fingers and he realized that she smelled like sandalwood. She glanced at his lips and he touched hers with his thumb.

“That’s why we’ll always be best friends,” he recited and she joined along. 

Aqua brought her knees together, and he spread his legs wider to hold her closer as she took his mouth again. Thoughts left his mind when all he experienced was her taste after the tears had dried up, and he wanted to have her night after night for proper nourishment, for the rest of his life so he’d never ever forget the flavor of her tongue. 

Someone cleared their throat, and terror froze them and spit them out. 

Ventus had been watching them with a self-satisfied smirk.

Her cheeks turned beet red. “Ven!” She had half a mind to hide in Terra’s arms but that would have made both of them more guilty. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Enough to see too much.” Ventus rolled up his sleeping bag and flung it over his shoulder.

“Oh no, Ven,” Terra said, “you don’t have to-”

“Nah, don’t worry about me.” Ventus dismissed him with a dramatic arm wave and then shooed the both of them away. “You keep trying to swallow her, okay? Good luck with everything else.”

If Terra and Aqua could survive all the horrors thrown at them over the years, then Terra assured himself he could survive this amount of humiliation. Aqua contained her giggles into her mouth as Ventus left them with proper privacy.

“I think he’s been waiting too long for…”

“Something to happen between us,” he finished for her.

A tiny giggle escaped her lips, and he wanted to taste them again. “Was something always going to happen between us?”

He was better at hiding his laughs than she was. “I hoped it would.”

Her sighs dissolved into giggles. “Well... when you, um, confessed to me... it was just horrible timing, Terra.”

It was, he just realized. Being on his knees and pouring his heart out to a possessed Aqua probably made him look dumb.

“Better late than never?” A tear dove itself into his smiling mouth, his chin on her head, his arms around hers, his thumb rubbing circles on her back.

Aqua dug her face into his shirt. “I never expected it to happen like that.”

“It was the worst confession ever.”

Her smile shivered into his shirt as she tried to contain herself.

He drew his head back, cupping her chin in his fingers. “It’ll be something we’ll laugh about later,” he said.

Aqua liked control, and worked way too hard to contain her giggles, pretending like she was telling a story to someone else: “‘He told me he loved me, and here I was trying to kill him.’”

“Maybe it was perfect timing, then?”

She nodded, agreeing with him, agreeing to another kiss, and he didn’t know what he did to make her sigh in relief, in contentment, in joy. 

He didn’t know what he did to deserve her, period, and he whispered a promise into her hair that he’d never neglect her again. 

Aqua spoke of unbreakable connections, since she still remembered that night when they made those sorts of promises. Their journal opened to a first page with years-old blood oaths from when they were children: always be best friends. Frankly, Terra didn’t remember a life before Aqua and never wanted to experience one without her ever again. 

He offered a second blood oath - it was time to renew those old childhood vows - and give Aqua one that she could remember. At first she rolled her eyes and scoffed… but she accepted.

In one of the drawers from the Master’s desk lay a ceremonial knife and with it, they pricked their right forefingers. 

Shit, they both forgot how much it hurt and why they decided on pinky swears from now on but the worst was done already, tiny slices into their flesh that pricked and throbbed but a small amount of pain was worth a transformation of happiness.

At least that was a motto Terra lived by nowadays.

Opening the journal to the next blank page, after the one keeping her possessed scrawls, they pressed their fingers onto the surface and left red prints. 

Next to his, Aqua wrote, I’m with you.

He couldn’t have said it better. He picked up the pen and wrote next to hers, I’m with you.

They let it dry before they closed it, and bandaged themselves. The hearth made her sleepy and he carried her to his blankets on the floor, taking spots next to each other as though it was any other late night where they sneaked into the lounge like it wasn’t scandalous because they weren’t sharing bedrooms - maybe tonight would be the last they would camp here.

Terra listened to Aqua talk about whatever came to mind, about moving in to his room, about Ventus and how he would handle the two of them, about darkness and what they left behind, about light and what they had to do to keep each other safe. 

This was all Terra wanted, and more than what he would have wished for, and enough to keep him happy.