Archive of Our Own ^beta

The sun hung high in a cloudless sky, crystalline waves lapping gently at the pristine shore, tickling Ventus' toes. The Islands, with their relaxing soundscape comprised of the predictable ebb and flow of perfectly proportioned waves and the occasional thud of a fallen coconut, truly were the paradise Sora had spun.

A rustle from the trees. Ventus' neck hairs prickled, hand itching for his keyblade. He satisfied himself with running his palms over the planks constituting the wharf he was currently perched on, skin catching on the fraying wood. Just when he'd convinced himself he'd imagined it, an explosion of dirt, leaves and laughter nearly startled him off the wharf as the Islanders burst from the underbrush, giggling and yelling and squealing. In the lead was Kairi, kicking up glistening sand with her bare feet, Sora and Riku a whisker behind. They would've beaten her if they weren't so busy elbowing each other out of the way. 

"Ow! That's my hair, jerk face!"

"'Jerk face'? C'mon, Sora, I know you're lacking in the creativity department but that's definitely a new low." Riku's smirk fitted his face well but the twinkle in his eyes ensured there was nothing cruel in his attitude. 

Ventus dipped his toes into the water, watching Sora tackle the older boy, driving them both into the sea while a breathless Kairi crowed victory upon reaching the far stand of palm trees. "You two are hopeless!" she called as she traipsed back to help whoever was coming off second best. 

Riku's head, which was locked in a Noogie of Doom, popped out from beneath a particularly rude wave. "Murder!" he gasped, eliciting a grin from Sora that was a disconcerting mixture of wicked and proud. 

Kairi rolled her eyes. "Seriously, you let yourself get beaten by a guy who pees on jellyfish stings?"

"That was one time! I blame Doctor Google." 

The redhead chuckled. “Pretty sure Doctor Google got his degree off eBay.”

Riku chose that moment to flip the shorter boy off his back, grab Kairi by the wrist and pull, sending them all tumbling backwards into the surf. At the same instant, a painful stab on Ventus’ palm made him suck in a breath. Turning his hand over revealed a small splinter wedged just beneath his skin. He grimaced and tried to wriggle the offending object free, wondering how those Islanders could mess around like that without worrying over taking a keyblade to the stomach.  

It wasn't that he didn't trust his friends -- Ventus was nothing if not predisposed to believing in Terra and Aqua to a fault. The trouble came with discerning whether they were indeed still the people he loved or just shades of their former selves. He'd always been observant, a necessity borne of being the group’s baby, perpetual longing gaze directed towards the older pair, and now Ventus' shrewd eyes couldn't stop calculating all the ways Terra and Aqua had changed. 

Terra slept like mountains: placid and immovable, reassuring in the steadfast rise and fall of his chest. It was the only time he looked truly relaxed, often turning in early despite the long summer days, the world's weight easing out of his taut expression into something approaching relief the moment his head touched his pillow. The others teased his inability to stay awake long enough to watch the sun completely dip below the horizon but they never pressed the issue, so he took it good-naturedly. Since their victory over Xehanort, Terra did little else but acquiesce, as if a lifetime of rolling over will make amends for the bad choices of the past. 

Ventus was staring at the last embers of the bonfire the Islanders had coaxed to life, fighting to keep his eyes open when a soft voice came from above. 

"Ven? It's past midnight." Aqua's gaze held him gently. She'd approached him head-on, taking care to shuffle through the sand and prod at the fire a bit, and Ventus' heart ached with gratitude and sadness. Nobody should have to worry about catching him off-guard. 

"Just a little longer," he said, forcing himself to lessen the tension in his jaw, which he'd instinctively clenched. They both knew it was a lie but Aqua had tact enough to not call him out. Instead, she sunk down opposite him, pretending not to scrutinise him over the fire. How can I fix this? her gaze said, as if any of them actually knew how to go about mending themselves much less their friendship, his and hers and Terra’s. She'd always been the glue holding them together, the peacemaker, and now here she was trying to help him make peace with himself. 

Of the trio, Aqua was probably the least changed. If anything, she was more Aqua: more prone to mothering, trying to make sure they ate enough, exercised enough, drank enough. Slept enough. If Ventus was failing spectacularly on all counts, Aqua wasn't to blame. 

"The stars are really pretty," she said. 

But the stars were all wrong. Try as he might, Ventus couldn’t pick out the Lesser Wand or the Circle or Kyto because the constellations had been shifted (or perhaps it was the sky that had moved). He sneaked a glance at Aqua. Her face was turned towards the great velveteen expanse, a tranquil smile barely gracing her lips, which made his breath hitch, stomach swooping like halfway down a rollercoaster. How was she so content?

“Yeah,” he lied.

A pair of bare feet settled in the sand he'd been staring at. The toes wriggled then a face, presumably eventually attached to the toes, popped into his vision. "Aqua and I are gonna explore the coral island today," Kairi announced. "There's all kinds of amazing fish out there, the really colourful kind you don't get in the shallows. Sound like something you'd be interested in?"

Ventus dragged his line of sight up to align with hers. "Um, thanks but I'm not that great a swimmer."

"You don't even know how far out it is." She flopped beside him, pointed to a tiny smear on the horizon. "We're taking the canoes." Ventus made a noncommittal sound and picked at a seashell. Kairi wasn't deterred. "So you game?"

It was the third time this week an Islander had tried dragging him to some landmark or other. Limbs leaden and heart thudding sluggishly like a creature caught in a deep sea trench, Ventus turned each offer down with rapidly declining levels of enthusiastic reassurance that he was fine thanks, just a bit sleepy, he was fine. Sora had shrugged before dashing off, throwing a "Your loss!" and a brilliant smile over his shoulder. Riku had nodded once and told him no pressure. Kairi...

Kairi didn't leave. Ventus couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or impressed. 

"We used to paddle out there for Riku's mum's birthday to get sun shells. She has this big jar of them in her bedroom. Riku started the collection when he was, like, still refusing to eat his veggies." She frowned. "Actually, that's probably not a good comparison. I saw him fobbing off his mushrooms to Sora last night."

Ventus didn't blame him. Vegetables weren't high on his To Eat list either. Sora hadn't noticed, just happily snapped up each enoki and portobello while Riku shot apologetic smiles Terra's way. It wasn't Terra's fault Riku was more geared to carnivorous intent.

Ventus briefly considered suggesting that next time Terra should try frying up some steaks instead, wondering what twist he’d put on a simple ribeye. Terra had never been a good chef – he’d barely even been passable, content to let Aqua and Ventus mess around with herbs and spices, weaving a culinary tale of fragrant delights, giggling at how Terra couldn’t get the knack of chopsticks. Now he was some cooking deity. He spent lots of time practicing in the kitchen with Riku, who was also miraculously gifted with marrying the correct ingredients, a recipe for long term bliss. Riku, who’d also fallen to darkness. Ventus didn’t know the details but he figured they had counselling sessions over sashimi or something.

Kairi was still gazing expectantly at him. He realised he’d been mentally meandering, wondered if the bitterness showed. Maybe if he indulged the redhead for a day, they'd all back off? He was about to agree but then he caught a bikini-clad Aqua striding out of the cabin, smooth expanse of her back interrupted by countless white claw marks and an ugly, jagged scar running from one shoulder all the way to her hip and he had to look away before he was sick all over Kairi's naked wriggly toes. 

Ventus didn't know why he bothered dragging himself to the beach each day. This extended "holiday" was supposed to help him recuperate. All he got was sleepless nights and sunburns straight from the gates of hell. 

A blue blur whizzed past his head into the jungle. Moments later, Sora appeared. "Did you see the blitzball?"

Ventus gestured vaguely. The frown that eventuated on Sora's face looked downright wrong as he settled on the wharf next to the blonde. "You should come play. Tidus has to leave soon so we'll be down a man."

"Probably better if I don't. You guys wouldn't be safe. I've never held a blitzball in my life."

Sora gave a tiny head shake, smiling a little. "That didn't stop Mother Hen or Iron Chef."

Ventus knew. He'd been watching them all afternoon, Terra flailing around like an untethered astronaut, Aqua diving gracefully and freestyling faster than some of the Islanders. Sora prodded him gently between his ribs. "Keep frowning like that and you'll be sorry when the wind changes, and in the tropics that's more frequent than you think. Lay your woes on me, former chamber of my heart roomie. I’ll impart some Sora wisdom."

I woke up one day and didn't recognise anything or anyone. My friends grew up without me and I don't know them anymore. I’m scared if I fall asleep, the next time I wake up they’ll be gone for good. But of course he couldn’t say any of that.

It was hard to flat out lie to a guy whose heart you'd called home though. Ventus directed his words to the hermit crab scuttling over his feet. "Terra and Aqua were always a few steps ahead of me and I was fine with that but… now it’s like they’ve left for the moon and I’m stuck here on Earth. They’re… not the same people.” It was half the truth but better than nothing.

Sora bopped him on the nose. “Course they’re not. I change like twenty times between breakfast and brunch, and that’s not even a full day. With you guys, it’s been years, right? It’s only natural that you’ll see differences.”

Ventus rubbed his nose, mulling over Sora’s words. It wasn’t like he hadn’t reached that conclusion himself. Somewhere along the line though he’d decided the best way to cope was by not looking too closely. “I know. It’s just… a lot to take in. Time’s moved so fast without me.”

“I don’t think that’s the problem. The problem comes with trying to scoop up all those lost moments and keep them together. But time’s like the ocean, Ven. You can only hold a little bit.”

The blonde chewed his bottom lip, debating whether to ask. In the end, curiosity won out. “Do you know why Terra’s been avoiding me?” It hurt to say the words but it was necessary.

“Same reason Aqua won’t leave you alone,” Sora said. When Ventus continued staring at him blankly, he elaborated, “Because they care.”

“That… doesn’t make sense.”

Sora puffed, blowing an errant strand of hair out of his face. “Well, maybe you should get some clarification. Ask him. Unless there’s something spooky you’re not telling me, neither of you are mind readers.” He tapped Ventus on the head and jumped to his feet. “Just because your hearts are connected doesn’t mean your brains are.”

The ceiling fan circling languidly was hardly adequate, Ventus thought, wishing the Islands weren't so damn hot. He'd tossed away the covers, laid there sweltering for a handful of seconds then stripped off his t-shirt and shorts, and he was still an unpleasantly overheating blob of sweaty flesh. Temperate weather was worlds more tolerable. Temperate weather didn't make you soak through all your pyjamas until you decided it was better to go without. Temperate weather didn't bring irritating buzzing insects with in-built straws to needle your skin and suck you dry. Temperate weather didn't keep you up until the sun started squinting over the horizon. 

So maybe the heat was helpful in that regard. After all, it was getting harder to avoid sleep. He kept nodding off at inopportune moments, zoning in and out of Sora's party plans for Riku's impending Big Day, eyelids drooping during Friday night silent movies where the Islanders took turns improvising dialogue, Sora complaining that Kairi had devoured all the popcorn again. For a slender girl, Kairi sure could put away a lot of food. 

The redhead dangled a freshly microwaved popcorn bag in Sora's face. "You're on rations," she told him, mock stern. "Dessert will be here soon. Someone's gotta calorie control your butt." She nudged Ventus, who was staring at the Phantom of the Opera’s noseless face, the guy writhing in betrayed despair after being unmasked. "Sounds harsh, I know, but being full won't stop Sora from cramming in enough cupcakes to make us regret it."

"He'll spew," Riku said bluntly. In an effort to hijack the salty buttery corruption of formerly healthy corn kernels, Sora flung himself across the silver-haired boy's lap, outstretched hands flailing pathetically. Riku glared at the top of his friend's head, grabbing him by the neck of his tee to pull him away. "I am not cleaning your upchuck again," Riku warned. 

Sora wriggled out of Riku’s grip and rolled over to stare up at his friend seriously. "That ice cream was poisoned."

Riku snorted. "That or you're lactose intolerant. How else would you explain practically raising the sea level enough to flood the Islands with all that barf?"

"Who's lactose intolerant?" Terra, frowning in the doorway, arms full of milkshakes.

"My sustenance deprivers," Sora replied. 

Kairi and Riku exchanged a glance. They both promptly reached over and began tickling the brunet.

"Ah, mercy, please!" 

A baffled Terra sidestepped the feuding trio, depositing the milkshakes on the low table near Ventus then sitting cross-legged beside him. Copious amounts of cream, a chunk of brownie and a cinnamon doughnut were just some of the edible decorations topping the tall glasses. “Freakshakes,” Terra informed, passing one over.

It was the first time Terra had sought him out, had spoken to him in days. Ventus should've been upset. At the very least, some self-righteous anger wouldn't go astray. But his belief in Terra wasn't something he could just switch off so he just stuffed half the brownie in his mouth and said, “You’ve created a monster.” His eyes drifted to half-mast in response to the overwhelming deliciousness. “I approve.”   

Terra chuckled. "My creation is a thing of beauty.”

Ventus hummed in agreement and they lapsed into marginally awkward silence punctuated by the pained sounds of the Islanders’ scuffle. He envied their casual physicality. No playful push or extended hug was off limits. Feeling increasingly out of place, Ventus steadily sucked at the straw. Is this it? Is this the part where we finally have a conversation? The burbling as he reached the glass’ bottom surprised him, his stomach catching up literally two seconds later, leaving him bloated. When he returned the empty vessel to the table, his arm brushed Terra’s and he had to work hard not to reflexively jerk away.

"You haven't been sleeping," Terra noted, careful to maintain a neutral tone. 

He’d actually noticed? Ventus had assumed Terra was too absorbed in his own morose thoughts. "Yeah," he affirmed.

"There's all sorts of fixes for that. Peppermint, camomile tea, kale..."

Ventus scrunched up his nose. "I'll take the restless nights, thanks."

"Gotta eat your greens sometime." Terra’s smile was gentle as the rolling hills of their homeworld.

Maybe the sugar high was making him bold or maybe it was his talk with Sora. Whatever the case, Ventus was compelled to ask, "Is that why you've been sleeping so much? Excessive consumption of questionably-labelled superfoods?"

Terra sipped thoughtfully at his drink. "Making up for lost time, I guess. You can't just take a nap when there's thieves knocking on your door."

It was the closest they'd come to discussing the whole possession deal. There was a time when psychoanalysing was all Ventus had wanted to do, to drag everything out in the open, all their hook clawed demons and darkest fears and secret jealousies and smash them into nothing like the light warriors they were. But this wasn't a fairy tale. They were all in distress, the dragons were invisible and maybe there wasn't even a happy ending. 

“Well then, guess I’m catching up on waking hours,” Ventus said.

Terra’s lips quirked; Ventus’ heart skipped. Maybe it wasn’t completely hopeless. 

Terra would be easier, Ventus figured. Maybe it was a male bonding thing, or the fact that they were neither Keyblade Masters, or the knowledge that Terra was having his own sleeping issues. Whatever the case, it was somehow easier with him. Aqua was just so good at blending into any setting or scenario, effortlessly flowing from one life into another. It left Ventus feeling hopelessly lost.

So he went looking for Terra around the low growing palm tree the Islanders favoured as a sunset viewing spot. What he found was Aqua, head in hands, a silhouette in sharp relief against the sun dipping below the shimmering line where sea adjoined sky. Her shoulders were quaking slightly and every so often a soft gasp would float to Ventus’ ears, making his breath stick in his throat. Is she…? It was impossible in the same way that Master Eraqus being dead was impossible, like Terra succumbing to darkness was impossible. Things that had no business occurring but had occurred anyway, and Ventus’ mind started whirling as he desperately tried to process the idea of Aqua, perfect Master Aqua, despairing.

A warm body brushed past him, startling Ventus from his reverie. Terra gave him an indecipherable look before approaching their friend. "You okay?" Ventus heard him ask as he hopped onto the branch beside her.

Aqua’s laugh sounded brittle. "Are any of us?"

"You're worried about Ven." It wasn't a question. 

"Aren't you? You've been avoiding him most of the time. I thought I was going to keel over when I saw you actually talk to him yesterday."

"I'm just giving him space. He doesn’t need both of us hounding him.” Aqua visibly balked and Terra held up his hands in a soothing gesture. “I mean, we love you but you get kind of… intense when you're internally freaking out." 

Aqua took a shuddering breath. "I guess you’re right.” A moment spent watching the sun’s rays fading over the ocean, seabirds wheeling and soaring overhead, then, “How can I be better? For you and for Ven.”

“You’re already amazing.”

“I don’t think Ven agrees. He sees everything about me, you know. How I can’t stand the nights, how the bits of coral on my bare feet make me think of Heartless claws. I can’t even focus on a movie because I’m too busy worrying when I start paying attention again, one of you will be gone.”

“Aqua…” Terra murmured, voice a lullaby. He hesitated for a fraction of a second then gathered his courage, wrapped an arm around her. “Sorry,” he whispered, so quiet that Ventus could barely hear. “I should’ve noticed.”

Aqua leaned her head against his shoulder. “It’s okay. We all have our demons now.”

“Easier to slay ‘em with two.”

“Even better with three,” Aqua said wistfully.

Terra glanced over his shoulder, locked eyes with Ventus, offering silent encouragement.

Everything they were resonated in Ventus’ core, made his heart ache for what had been and what might be if only he could take a step forward. It felt like invisible heartstrings drawn taut between the trio, vibrating with a shared pulse, inhalation-exhalation-inhalation, and each fibre of Ventus’ being wanted nothing more than to walk over there and slip between them like coming home, uncomplicated and perfect.

Ventus stared at them for a handful of seconds, letting the sensation pull at him and pull like an ebbing tide. Then, he balled his fists and walked away.

Some weeks later, Ventus was lying in a hammock watching Aqua teach Terra how to dive for clams but he kept getting distracted by Kairi and Sora’s play-fighting. As far as he could tell, the rules were limited: wooden swords only, no magic, keyblades or anything of that ilk. Feet were apparently okay though, he discerned as Sora cornered Kairi against the hut and she responded by liberating him of his weapon with a swift kick to the wrist.

This was okay now. The dull clack of wood against wood didn't make him nervous, didn't send him into that place where every sound became an Unversed, where every laugh rang with Xehanort’s cruelty. The Islands were working their magic, acting like a soothing balm for his burned heart.

Terra’s head emerged from the depths. Triumphantly, he raised a purple clam overhead. The pleased exclamation Aqua emitted drifted across the waves, reaching Ventus’ ears and making him smile. They were so happy, so relaxed in each other’s company, like nothing had changed or like they’d changed in the same direction. Like they didn’t miss Ventus at all. His smile faded.

You’re being stupid, he thought, chewing his lip in annoyance. They missed him; he knew that. So why did he still have misgivings?

Maybe it’s because you know you don’t deserve them. The thought twisted his heart. The metallic tang of blood burst bright in his mouth as he bit down too hard.

"You should join them." Riku, following Ventus’ line of sight. He rolled into the hammock strung beside the one Ventus occupied.

“I’m a lousy swimmer.” Half-truths and deflection, the only ways he could speak nowadays. He swallowed his blood, an attempt at hiding the wound.

“That’s not the point. I think trying would go a long way.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Riku allowed a wry smile. “Not really. Getting my best friends back was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

So he knew. Ventus shifted onto his side to meet Riku’s gaze. “How did you? Get back to what you were, I mean.”

Riku gnawed the inside of his cheek, perhaps uncertain how best to phrase everything or if everything should even be shared. His eyes went to Sora and Kairi, who had plopped onto the ground to compare bruises.  “I forgave myself. It didn’t matter how many times Sora or Kairi said it. Until I could let go of that self-hatred, we didn’t have a chance.”

“But I let Terra... and Master Eraqus…” He squeezed his eyes shut, whispered, “I almost killed Aqua,” voice breaking on the last syllable.

“You aren’t responsible for any of that stuff. That might have been your body fighting Aqua but it wasn’t your heart. As for Terra, he has to live with his own decisions. Trust me on this.”

Ventus swallowed the emotion thick in his throat. Riku’s gaze was kind and infinitely understanding as he continued, “Listen, I get it. You think everything was so easy after what I did? I could’ve killed both my best friends. Almost did. I beat myself up over it for a long time but playing the martyr just gets on people’s nerves. Do you want to be labelled emo for the rest of your life?”

Ventus managed a small smile, shaking his head.

Riku swung his feet over the hammock’s edge, leaning down to swipe his wooden sword off the ground. “So if you care about Terra and Aqua in any way, if you treasure the people you knew, you’ll swallow that negativity and learn who they are now. Don’t throw away what you had just because you overslept.”

Ventus sighed, flopping back onto the still-warm sand, linking his hands behind his head. So things were different. Still, his life wasn’t the messed up combination of colossal bad decisions he’d worried it might be. And Terra and Aqua, they were just trying their hardest in their own ways. Trying to find common ground. Trying to forgive themselves, to allow themselves to be loved again.

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinising the stars, wondering if he could find any familiar formations. As for the unknowns, he’d ask one of the Islanders or maybe he could just make up his own names.

A streak of light skipped across the sky. Ventus bolted upright, mouth dropping open. “A meteor!” he exclaimed. A moment later, the smile lessened to something poignant. The places beside him had never looked so vacant, so lacking. He scratched the back of his head, the childish outburst sounding silly the more it bounced around in his brain. A sigh eventuated from somewhere deep in his heart, floating up and over his lips.

This is all wrong. I keep screwing everything up. I’m worried about things I can’t change and not bothering with the things I can. And I miss them. I miss them so much. Ventus’ eyes slipped closed. He imagined he could still see the imprints of shooting stars on his eyelids, wondered how far they had travelled and where they might still be going. He wondered if they were lonely.

His expression set, eyes snapping open, brows furrowing in determination. That’s it. I’m gonna go find them. No way they’re missing out on this. He was just about to stand when a calming voice came from behind him: “Where?”

Ventus whipped his head to the side, gaze tracing over purple toenails, frayed khaki shorts and a simple tank top before melding with eyes the colour of a desert oasis. “Aqua!” 

She settled beside him, drawing her knees up to her chest, tilting her head at him quizzically. Ventus leaned over to point out more pinpricks of light zooming along the horizon. “Wow…” she breathed.

“Pretty incredible, isn’t it?” Terra, squishing up beside him.

Ventus’ smile broadened into a full-blown grin. His friends returned the sentiment and they quickly settled into a rhythm of star-spotting, murmuring with delight as each new shooting star lit up the night. As they sat there watching the heavens change, for the first time Ventus could see a way forward. Their lost days and sleepless nights, the memories they cherished and those yet to come, all of it unimportant in the face of The Moment, that tiny pool of ocean he could carry in his hands.

It’s gonna be different… but that’s okay.

It was too hot to stay sandwiched between his friends for long so after a time, they lay back on the soft sands, heads touching to maintain their connection, bodies fanned out like their own interpretation of a wayfinder, and took turns finding pictures in the stars.