#roadawn

the words take a minute to register, lost to the songs the wind sings as she makes her way through the little spit of land they’ve called home. the sun has disappeared beyond the horizon hours ago but he’s yet to move from where he last saw the sight, paralyzed in the absence of light. and wasn’t that such a funny thing to consider, when he’s allowed himself to be swallowed by the darkest of darks? but no, he couldn’t be blamed. the darkness on this island was rooted in something fouler, something unseen anywhere else— there were too many unpleasant memories tied to what happens on destiny island, when the sun sets.

riku knew this. he knew / he was there / he stood in the monster’s maw with him, hand in hand, when those jaws closed and still— he asks sora to sleep? something stings where it rests atop his tongue, swallowed down before more cruelty stains the little spit of land they’ve called haven. ❛ i don’t think i’ll be able to sleep, even if i tried. ❜ honesty, a vulnerability not often shown / an exposure so indecent that sora laughs before anything can be offered in response. body turns ( cracks / struggles against the burdens that continue to weigh down despite reaching the supposed happily ever after ) and he offers his best friend a smile that feels as out of place as the boy does. ❛ we should have a slumber party! we can go find kairi, and see if she wants to, so it can be like old times! ❜ 

she had been grateful for the opportunity to spend a little extra time with riku in the midst of her training. she knew that, all too soon, they would need to separate again, & she was grateful to merlin for realizing that, too, & letting her spend extra time with her friend.

sitting outside, alone, gave her the opportunity to ask a question that she'd been meaning to ask since she was retrieved & told she was going to train in radiant garden.

      ❛ hey, riku? can i ask you about your mark of mastery exam? ❜

she knew the basics. riku had passed, sora had not. xehanort had interfered with the test, & that seemed to be the cause. there had been a lot of talk about things like sleeping worlds & dream eaters that had gone over her head. no one had explained, & she hadn't asked–––– it hadn't been the time. but, she was beginning to realize that everyone else's knowledge about various things far surpassed her own, & she didn't want her lack of understanding to be another thing that made her fall behind.

lips twitch a smile, amused by the suggestion: to be frightened by something so naturally a part of life, a part of herself? though she may loathe to be a corpse reanimated from dirt, mud and bone, she is not resentful of the state of being itself. “ no, ” she answers, the word offered with a gentle simplicity to her tone. death is neither cruel nor malicious – it is simply a creature which eats and eats and eats. even this anthropomorphizing of the grandest mystery to life is unfair. a creature acts on instinct, fights to survive. there is no aim to death. no drive to find prey, or food, or shelter. death is as death is. nothing more, nothing less. why should she be afraid of the dead, then, when it is so indiscriminate? when it takes from all and leaves little behind; the good and the evil, the mean and the kind. the dead do not scare her. she knows this because she does not frighten herself.