|harukami (harukami) wrote,|
@ 2007-08-25 15:17:00
|Entry tags:||kingdom hearts|
[fic] Kingdom Hearts 2, "Break In"
Requested by moffit: Kingdom Hearts - Replica Riku/Riku/Sora - Breaking in Sora's new, bigger bed, some D/S involved.
He arrives at Destiny Islands ragged and tired and worn out, barely able to stand. In a way, it's lucky that Riku finds him first, stands and looks down at him and says,
"Real Thing," the replica says, but without much venom. He sounds exhausted to the point of tears.
"Traveling between worlds without a vessel, huh?" Riku asks. He knows that face, pale and covered with a sheen of sweat, looking like he's sick at heart.
"Shut up," the replica says. "It's fine. I can take it."
"Yeah," Riku says, sarcastic and dismissive. "I bet."
He turns to go and leave the fake there, but the replica follows him, dragging himself along, falling every so often. It's humiliating, and after a few long minutes of this Riku turns and marches silently back, pissed off and pitying, and hauls the replica up with an arm around his waist. The replica says, "I can do it myself!" but he drapes an arm over Riku's shoulder and leans on him as they walk.
He can't or won't bring the replica back to his own place, so instead he takes him to Sora's. Sora's expression is dumb as they open the door. "Two Rikus?"
"This one's just a fake," Riku says.
The replica doesn't protest it. He's too busy watching with hungry eyes, like he wants to reach out but doesn't want to be slapped away. He says, "Sora? You've grown up." The replica hasn't changed at all.
Sora says, "Uh, sorry? I don't know you."
"You don't remember me?" It comes out in tones of flat shock. "C'mon, Sora. Remember? I was trying to protect Namine--"
"I know Namine!" Sora says. "But I don't remember anyone trying to protect her. She handled herself just fine."
Riku almost shoves the replica away from him when he starts to sob, exhaustion rising and overflowing. The replica stumbles, catches himself against Sora's door frame.
"Please," the replica says. "C'mon, remember. I remember all this, I remember what your room looks like, why don't you--"
"You never came here," Riku tells the replica sharply. "If you're going to just try to take over other people's lives, you can get the hell out."
"No," the replica says. He grasps at the doorframe like he doesn't dare to let go, shoves himself forward and inside like he's trying to swim for the shore against an undertow. "No, I never came here."
Sora seems content to roll with a "he was around in that year you've forgotten," from Riku, all significance stripped from it. "Whatever," Sora says, and shrugs.
The replica makes it to Sora's room on his own probably entirely on the fact that it's on the first floor, and stumbles in. He walks around the room twice, says, "You never change," to Sora with an edge of sad hysteria, and falls onto Sora's bed. By the time Sora gets over to try to shove him off, he's fast asleep.
Sora calls Kairi. It's Namine he gets instead, once he's explained the basics of what's going on.
"Oh," Namine breathes, soft to the point of vanishing over the phone. "Oh, he's still alive."
"Wait, he is real, then?"
"No, but he's alive." Namine is silent for a long few moments. "I'm a little sorry about that," she says. "I can't -- I can't do anything for him. Please take care of him, Sora. He may hate you a little, but he loves you too."
"Hey now," Sora protests. "I don't want to take care of anyone who hates me," but Namine is gone and Kairi reassures him that Sora can handle it. If he can handle Riku, he can handle someone a lot like Riku, right?
"I guess so," Sora says. He looks over at the bed, where the replica has curled on his side like Riku tends to, but has his hands up by his head, his face buried in his knotted fists. Riku is sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching him with a frown.
By the time he wakes up, he's hungry. He demands food with a dark-eyed challenging expectation that reminds Riku a little of stray dogs that sometimes lurk around town, all ribs showing as they slip out of the light and into shadow again. They're dangerous creatures, but kind of pathetic. They always have a look in their eyes like they want to beg but know you won't give them anything and that pisses them off.
Sora gets leftovers from his mother's cooking of the night before, though, a citrus chicken dish that the replica sniffs and then eats as if he's never eaten before. Which is stupid, because he's been living for over a year now but the expression on his face is like he's never had anything like it before but he's angry because he knows he won't have it again. After, he says he's going to clean up and pushes past them on the way to the bathroom.
"It's so weird," Sora says. "He's just like you."
Offended, Riku says, "He is not."
"Sure he is. You always walk around my house like you own it." Sora pokes Riku in the side. "Remember, mom used to make fun of you for that, say you were her second son?"
Riku shrugs a shoulder, a bit guiltily. "That's just 'cause I'm over here all the time."
"Yeah," Sora says. "That's why it's weird."
After the first night, they take it for granted that if the replica's not vanished yet, he'll be there for a while. He keeps out of sight, skulking into darkness when someone who'd know the real Riku comes by, and mostly confines himself to Sora's room. He paces it sometimes, like a wild animal in a cage; other times he'll open Sora's closet and rifle through his clothes like he's looking for something. Once Sora catches him in there with his face buried in one of Sora's shirts.
After a week of the replica sleeping on his floor and Riku shoving Sora over in the bed because, as Riku puts it, "I'm not leaving him alone with you," as if Sora can't defend himself just fine, Sora sits up and watches the replica curled on the floor.
"You can't stay here forever, you know," he tells the replica reasonably.
The replica's eyes open and he sits up. "It's not going to be forever," he says irritably.
"What are you trying to do, anyway?"
Sora shrugs. "You won't find that here. Find something you want and work from that! It's always worked for me."
The replica is silent, picking at one of Sora's discarded toys.
"I mean, where's your home?"
"I don't have one."
"You gotta feel someplace is home."
"Here," the replica says, and he rises. He slinks over, stares down at Sora and Riku curled beside him pretending to sleep.
Sora blinks. "Here?"
The replica puts both hands on Sora's cheeks. "I want you to remember me."
Sora shrugs, uncomfortably. "I don't," he says. "I don't remember anything from that year. Sorry."
The replica's eyes close, like he's suffering a little. He draws a slow breath and says, "Then I want to become someone to you now."
"You told me I was before," the replica says. "I'm not now. I hate that."
"It's not my fault," Sora protests, and the replica tenses, then shoves him back. "Hey!"
Immediately, Riku sits up and grabs the replica. "Don't touch him."
"You bastard, I just want--"
"I know what you want. Don't you goddamn touch him," Riku says and shuts up abruptly because the replica is crying. He hates the sight of his own face covered in tears. It's embarrassing, humiliating, makes him feel dirty for looking on it. He averts his eyes, shoves the replica. "Go. Get out of here."
"No," the replica chokes, and pulls Riku, hauling him over Sora.
This is not someplace Sora expected to be, in his room, in his own bed, as Riku tries to wrap himself around himself and tries to touch bare skin. The real Riku is pushing away somewhat, but not enough, enough to turn his head so he can't be kissed, and he pins the replica's wrists. The replica Riku can't seem to break the grip on his wrists and thrashes instead, feet bunching up the blankets as they dig in to get leverage, thighs tensing as he shoves his body up against Riku's.
"You love him too," the replica spits at Riku.
"Shut up," Riku says. "Shut up, before--"
"Before he hears? You coward! You're always such a coward, I can't stand you, I can't stand it, I hate having to be you--" and the fake's crying and they're nothing at all alike.
"Riku?" Sora asks.
"Hell," Riku says softly, and then he lets go of the replica's wrists, looks down at him, and hauls back to punch. The replica's head rocks back, and the sound is unpleasant and meaty.
For a moment there's only his gasp of pain and then he's swinging himself over, kicking hard, and the two of them fall off the bed as they wrestle, straining to overpower the other, hitting whenever they can. The crackle of darkness has filled the air and Sora stares for a long few moments before suddenly he feels tired and triumphant and like he maybe wants to cry too. He gets off the bed and steps into the middle of them, pushing with his free foot so they have to separate.
"Fine," Sora says to the air, not looking at either of them. "Fine."
It's the replica who scrambles up and faces him, young and tear-stained and trembling with rage as he reaches out a hand to touch Sora's cheek. "Fine?"
Sora shrugs. "Fine," he says.
Slowly, Riku gets up. "It's up to you," he says, like he's disappointed in Sora, like Sora's vanishing from him right then. He turns away.
"Ri--" and the replica pulls Sora to him, presses his face into Sora's hair and breathes like he could breathe Sora in, almost gasps, hands running over Sora. This is real. You're really here. Sora closes his eyes and says, "Riku, come back here."
The replica freezes. Riku, on his way out the window, stills and looks back at him.
"He's important to me," Sora says. He sees it in the replica's eyes: And you're not, which sucks but it's also true. He doesn't even know the guy. Still, the replica doesn't let go, clings stubbornly like he can't let go. It's like he held to the doorframe, just like that. Sora thinks of about ten billion ways tonight could have gone better and says, "Riku, come here."
Riku sighs, and comes over. "He's just interfering, Sora," he says.
"I know that," Sora says. "Let's go to bed. All of us." He closes his eyes. "I don't want to work this out on my own anyway. It's too confusing."
The replica wakes up with a bruise swelling half his face so that even blinking hurts. His nose is stuffed and his eyes feel itchy, and for a moment he's incredibly confused because he doesn't know where he is or why it's so crowded.