Chapter One: With Open Arms
Title: With Open Arms
Summary: He is the second half of the whole. He is what is left to bring the world to its original order. But he needs his other half.
Rating: PG-13 with R tendencies
Pairing: RikuSora, AkuRoku (implied), AkuRiku (comfort, implied)
A/N: I posted this on ff.net, but I'm probably never going to post anything there again, so I'm revamping the story and adding to it! :D
.oQOQo.
Chapter One: Need
.oQOQo.
“Welcome back, Ryan.” The woman smiled; forced, annoyed. Her smiles were always that way ever since the first time they met. Ryan liked to call her The Liar, though only in his head. Her smile twitched as the silence between them grew. People always told him his intent gaze was unnerving -- it was fun to do it to The Liar and watch her squirm. For a shrink, she sure was agitated easily.
He shifted in his seat, pulling his legs to his chest and resting his head on his knees though never looking away from her. He wondered how long he could sit there, how long he could stare before she would give up and break the silence herself. That, or freak out on him. “Good morning.” Those two words released the tension in the room as the shrink visibly relaxed, shoulders going slack as she sighed. It was a fun game he played, staying silent until he thought she would go over the edge. She had, once. Only once, though. It would be unprofessional for it to happen more than once.
“Your mother says that you've been acting strange.” Thin glasses, those weird kind that had no frame but were held together with screws and small strips of metal, slipped down her nose as she peered over them.
Ryan shrugged. “She says that a lot.” It was true. Five years of seeing The Liar and nothing had changed. Of course, he didn't know what was wrong, but everyone kept saying there was something wrong.
The problem: He was beginning to feel it, too. It was as if he wasn't a complete person. Something vital was missing, something that ached with his very being. He would cry for no reason and within the same breath be completely pleasant. That was usually diagnosed as manic depression but none of the medications worked. And it wasn't as if he were sad or anything; something was just missing.
Though, it started to feel like what was missing was coming to find him.
“Are you sure nothing has changed? Perhaps a different routine at home, stress from school?”
It started a few weeks ago. There was something in him that began to strain, like a thread pulled taunt. For at least six days he sat waiting for something to happen; something would happen, he was sure of it. That sort of apprehension doesn't just come from nothing. The days moved at a snails pace, the minutes stretched for what seemed like years. The thread was pulled further and further, fibers shredding and tearing.
Then the thread snapped.
The Liar took his vacant stare as permission to question him further. “Did you perhaps get into an argument with a friend? Anything at all?”
Something was coming for him.
He was falling asleep when the thread snapped. It was as if time had stopped as a sensation washed over him, like the waves of the ocean trying to carry him away.
Something big.
A hand beckoned, a voice called his name. Sora.
Something monumental.
No matter what he did, he couldn't reach that hand. He stretched with all his might and yet still fell short. Please. Sora. I need you.
Something heavenly.
.oQOQo.
“Goddammit, stop trying to comfort me!”
“What do you want me to do then?”
“Stop pretending you know what it's like.”
“Oh quit acting like your pain is so horrible! 'Oh no, I just lost my Other! Everyone, be sure to pity me while I pretend nothing will ever be the same again!' Tch!”
“Would you shut the fuck up already?”
“No, why don't you. You've been blessed, you selfish bastard.”
“How, pray tell, am I blessed by losing my Other?”
“Not by losing him, by meeting him. We both know mine is on the other plane. I may never meet him.”
“...”
“No, you don't know what it's like to feel like you're never truly whole, do you? When you were created, your Other was already there waiting for you. You grew up together. What do I get? Half a fucking soul.”
“You were born with half a soul; I had half of my soul ripped out of me.”
Pause. Silence.
Sigh. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all of that.”
“Its... its okay. We only have each other, after all.”
“Heh, that's true.”
.oQOQo.
There had been an uproar when the Keyholder died. The entire world mourned his life, mourned what his death meant. It wasn't until days later that it was known that he did not carry the Key. The real Keyholder was hidden away from the world for safekeeping. It was a good idea to do so; if the real Keyholder had died, the worlds would have been doomed to eternal darkness. Everyone knows angels can't live in the darkness. But as long as the Keyholder was still alive, there was still hope. As long as it was him that died, it didn't matter.
After that, nobody could give a damn.
The white roses were soaked from the constant rain as he stood above the fresh grave. A smile curled his thin lips. Even the sky seemed to be mourning, even though everyone else had stopped long ago. Bending down, he placed the bouquet beside the plain headstone alongside the other offerings he'd left days before. He pressed his forehead against the headstone, placing a kiss above the name engraved into the stone. Roxas Okiayu. He stayed that way for some time, ignoring the rain as water soaked his black coat and dripped from long spikes of fire red hair. He felt so empty.
He started as he felt a hand rest against his shoulder. Looking up, he relaxed as his sharp green eyes met eyes of cerulean. A weak smile curled his lips upward as he stood, nodding down to the shorter male. “I'm ready to go.” The other male smiled up at him taking his hand in a gesture of comfort and leading him away to his home.
Gods, that hand. 'His hand feels just like Roxas''
.oQOQo.
the blood oh the bloodSORAit smells so sweet the key its the key we found the key we must nibble we must bite tear rend rip shred devourSORAconsume destroy
he will be happy we found him oh yes the pretty boy who holds the key master will be so pleased maybe we will get some delicious tendeSORAbeating hearts to rip shred devour consume destroy
hes so pretty when hes sleeping so silent and unaware we know he cant sense us hes asleep in more ways than onSORAthe darkness lurks in the corners of his room we inch closer we smell the blood oh the blood it smells so sweet
the key its the key not that imitation of the key this oneSORAis real a key we can
rip shred devour consume destroy
.oQOQo.
The waves ticked his feet, the warm waters curling around his toes before receding to the ocean only to return moments later and caress the soles of his feet once again; sand crunched quietly underfoot as he walked. This sort of setting relaxed him. The ocean always managed to do that. Something about the color of the waters - cerulean - entranced him.
Wait. When did he get to the ocean?
'I thought I went to bed.' Ryan let his feet carry him closer to their predetermined destination, one he was quite unaware of.
It was hard for his mind to focus on one topic, namely, where the hell he was and how he got there. Everything seemed so calm, tranquil, subdued. Yet it was tinged with an eerie quiet. The hairs on the back of his neck rose to attention as his eyes darted from one place to another. Something was off.
His feet seemed to miss the memo. None of his thoughts deterred them as they continued a steady pace down the beach.
It became increasingly difficult to focus as his eyes wandered to take in his surroundings. The sand, he noted, seemed to be part of a small island that was continuously deconstructing and reconstructing itself; trees faded away like feathers in a gust of wind, soon replaced by large bushes that seemed to bubble forth from the sand itself, which then sank into the sand to be replaced by wildflowers that formed from wisps of air. The sky was a dark violet that faded into neon green where the sky met the sea, specked with small fluffy cumulus clouds lined with silver and gold. But the sea was different. It broiled with darkness, its depths seeming to hum with hidden fury. Black waves crashed into the beach before receding. Soon they swirled, changing into the cerulean that ensnared his senses before. It was as if the darkness was attempting to com forth and swallow him whole, but something held it back.
Ding!
The sky, the ground, the water - it all pulsed with his heartbeat. New plants grew and died away with each beat and secondary beat of his heart; silver and gold-lined clouds moved towards the horizon like the blood in his veins flowing to each extremity, each artery, each vein, capillary.
And sitting in the middle of it all was a lone figure playing in the sand.
Ding!
Everything began to lose focus around the edges. Ryan found himself unable to turn away from the figure; something told him that turning away now would be the worst mistake he could ever make.
Wisps of darkness curled around his toes, wrapped around his ankles, tried to pull him back. Scratching, probing, tugging, tearingrendingrippingsreddingdevouringconsuming
Ding!
Sora!
He fell into the darkness.
.oQOQo.
“Ryan?”
His mother knocked tentatively at the door before cracking it open, peering into the room.
She screamed.
.oQOQo.
Chapter One: End
Confused? XD I know I sure was when I started writing this, but it all makes sense in my head and on paper. <3 Hopefully I can start on the second chapter soon.
Btw, Sora = Ryan. Sometimes I have to remind myself. > w>