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It’s later in the night after the definitive end of their exam, and the tea party is starting to wind down, and Sora insists to himself that he’s happy. He’s ecstatic in hearing the news of Riku’s induction as a keyblade master. Really.
Really! He is! The smile on his face should serve as proof.
(This is what he keeps telling himself as he forces the corners of his mouth as high as they can go, though never quite reaching his eyes.)
He couldn’t not be happy, right? Riku passed and is now an official keyblade master. In addition, Riku was willing to give up his life to save him, and he can’t be anything but grateful. Riku saved Sora from the darkness that threatened to take him over, and that alone warms Sora’s heart.
So, what is this nagging feeling in the pit of his chest? Why is the sweet taste of happiness steeped in bitterness?
It reminds Sora of his feelings towards Riku as they grew up together, though his palette has changed—Riku has always been a step above Sora and always outshined him, no matter how hard the brunet tried to save some of that glimmer for himself. Isn’t that why Riku was chosen as the rightful owner of the keyblade in the first place? The only reason Sora received it was due to Riku’s moment of weakness, and that alone served as a reminder that Sora will always fall just a hair short in everything in his life.
(Okay, admittedly, Sora can’t help that he’s a little bitter. He’s worked so hard at wielding a weapon he was not destined to have, and Riku, who began his journey after his, still wins out as a true master.)
But what stings more is the sympathy present in Riku’s eyes, his brows creased in concern for his friend. “Sora...”
The boy simply shrugs it off, as this is supposed to be Riku’s moment—not his. “You’re amazing, Riku. I always knew you were the best.”
“Sora—”
He interrupts his silver-haired friend once more, though the lump in his throat grows harder to swallow. “No, really. You’re the strongest person I know, and I’m really glad it was you.”
“I don’t think—”
Sora laughs, even though the sound is forced and shaky. “Come on—”
“Sora, you’re crying.”
It takes a moment for Sora to process the statement, but his hands instinctively find the wet streak across his cheek. No. He’s supposed to be happy, so why is his heart betraying him? Before Riku can say anything else, Sora leaves the room as quickly as he can, racing down the stairs to find some space away from this whole situation.
Stupid. He should be happy, so why does it feel like this? Riku deserves this recognition. He’s so hard on himself, always belittling all that he’s done for his friends, but Sora has always thought so highly of him. He’s always been proud of his older friend and wants nothing more than to show the world how wonderful Riku is. Everyone calls Sora the chosen one anyway, and recognition has never meant much to him as much as it has for Riku.
It slowly dawns upon Sora that this isn’t about the recognition—it’s about Riku gaining recognition without him. It’s about Riku forgetting about him, because now, just like when they were children, Riku would be a step ahead once again. They could have been masters together, celebrated as a team, but this... feels like separation again, and Sora’s not sure if he can cope with more distance, even if it isn’t physical distance, away from Riku again.
A knock at the door has Sora stiffening. “Hey. Do you want to talk?”
He’s not sure if the sound of Riku’s voice relaxes him or worries him, but after wiping the stray tears from his face, he opens the door anyway and greets Riku with a grin. “Yeah, um. Sorry about earlier. Don’t know what came over me.”
A lie—being away from you is what came over me.
The silver-haired boy offers him a sympathetic smile, resting his hand on Sora’s shoulder gently. “It’s okay to be sad, you know. You’ve had a long few days. You almost lost your heart, and I know how scary that is.”
Sora looks up at Riku through his lashes, resting his hand atop of the other boy’s. “If we ever drifted away from each other again... Would you still look for me?”
The question startles him, but Riku chuckles all the same. “You’re really gonna ask me that after I quite literally dove into your heart and dragged you out of your sleep?”
Sora grits his teeth, shoving his friend’s hand away roughly. Leave it to Riku to not see where he’s coming from at a time like this. For someone so brooding, he wasn’t particularly good at serious conversations. “Riku, I’m serious. Please.”
After picking up on the sadness in Sora’s voice, Riku is quick to change his tone. “Of course I would, Sora. You could be drifting in another galaxy, and you know I’d do anything to bring you back home.” Hesitantly, Riku reaches for the brunet’s hand and leads him to sit down. “What’s bothering you? It’s a little unnerving to see you so upset. Is this about the exam?”
Sora stares down at their conjoined hands before letting his eyes fall shut. The words are there—they’re messy, but knowing Riku, he’d get it like he always does. “There’s this... tightness in my chest—in my heart. You’re right here, but I’m scared you’re already so far away from me.” The tears rush back, but Sora keeps his eyes closed. “You’ve always been one step ahead of me, and I feel like I’ll never catch up. I just want to stay beside you, Riku—I don’t want to be left behind again.”
The echoing silence that follows has Sora reeling, because he’s said too much. Maybe Riku doesn’t get it, and maybe it’s wrong—but this train of thoughts screeches to a halt when the younger boy is gathered up in a tight hug. Though never one for physical affection, Sora always liked Riku’s hugs the best. His arms were strong, and being that Sora fell just short of his height, he could rest his head right at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Safe from sight, Sora lets the tears fall, wrapping his arms around his friend and pressing his eyes into the soft material of Riku’s jacket.
“I’m sorry for scaring you back then,” Riku speaks, his palm smoothing down the spikes at the back of Sora’s head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to stand by your side before, but I will never let that happen again.”
Sora sniffles a bit, though a hint of a grin spreads across his face. Riku’s words ease the doubts in his heart, their shared embrace calming him down easily. “You promise?”
Riku chuckles, resting his head atop of Sora’s. The younger boy just hoped that things could always stay like this—both of them chasing one another was fun, but beside each other feels like two lost puzzle pieces finally meeting their match. “Promise.”