Categories > Games > Kingdom Hearts
I AGAINST I
not mine, more's the pity
---
"I don't know what makes you so special."
Riku looks up to see his copy standing in front of him, brows drawn together in a scowl. He thinks, Was I always that way? and then, Oh God, Sora, you must be my best friend if you didn't kill yourself laughing over that outfit. His copy is beautiful, which is a surprise, but maybe it's because you never see yourself how other people see you. He is sure he never looked like that, angry and pale and arrogant.
Riku is learning a lot of things, and this is not the hardest lesson he's had. He remembers Kairi giving him an exasperated look and saying You're not /stupid/, Riku.
Rash and proud and foolhardy, yes. Stupid, he really hopes not.
"What do you mean?" he says, finally.
"You," the other one snaps. "Why are you so special? You didn't even have the guts to follow the dark to the end, so why is everybody so obsessed with /you/?" His face twists. "And if it's not you, it's that Sora. Sora, Sora, Sora! That's all they talk about. That's all Naminé talks about!"
Riku finds himself on his feet. "What about Sora?" he says, quietly.
"You're the same way!" hisses the other. "Look at you, stuck here and all you can think about is him!"
"What do you know about Sora?"
"He didn't protect Naminé! He left me! What's so special about him! What's so special about you!"
It occurs to Riku that eventually he's going to have to find out about this 'Naminé' person, but right now he's more concerned with other things. He steps in front of the replica, grabs him by collar. "What do you know about Sora? Is he here?"
Actually, if he had smirked at other people like the way the fake was smirking at him, he was probably lucky he hadn't been drowned at birth. When (if) he got back home, he was giving his mother a big hug like he hadn't given her since he was about eight years old and apologizing.
"Wouldn't you like to know," says the fake.
"Tell me!"
The fake laughs, and damn, he's quick, quick as Riku himself, wrenched away from Riku's grip and behind him in less than a thought. "I'mmm not tellling," he jeers. "Because you're weeeeak."
The only one as fast as Riku is Riku, and if he was less angry he'd be amused at the shock in the fake's eyes as he draws Soul Eater and follows after him. "I'm stronger than you are," he snaps, landing in front of him.
The shock is wiped away -- he'd always been good at recovering, at keeping a poker face -- and the fake leaps in the air and his Soul Eater is drawn and aimed at Riku in a way that would be a feint from anybody else. Riku doesn't trust himself any further than he could throw himself (what a mixed up analogy, he thinks, distantly, he'd better tell that one to Sora and see what he thinks, or maybe Kairi could untangle it) and he knows, none better, that to him a feint is something that happens when you miss and you want to explain it away. He's out of the way as fast as he can get, striking back. The Soul Eaters clash, white-black sparks, screaming metal against screaming metal. "You're weak," says the fake. "Weak, weak, weak!"
"Is that all you can say?" Riku forces Soul Eater up the other blade, hooks the hilt and /twists/, a trick he perfected on Sora. The replica hisses, more in annoyance than in pain, and his Soul Eater goes flying. Riku grins. "That stung, huh?"
"Shut UP," says the other, and lunges toward him. Riku doesn't leap back -- he's hoping for it, he thinks in the distant part of him mind that always stays alert and thinking during battle, he wants me to get out of the way so he can grab his keyblade -- but he does flip toward the other's Soul Eater, kicking it up to his hand and holding it out.
"Want it?"
"Fucker!" snarls the replica.
"Come get it," he says. "/Weakling/."
The one thing about fighting yourself, Riku thinks, is that you're pretty sure how you're going to react. The fake's mouth twists angrily and he leaps across the hall, landing in front of Riku, one arm sweeping out to try to knock the keyblade away from Riku. Riku is already jumping, twisting in midair to land behind him. "You're /slow/," he says.
"Shut up!" The replica is angry now, probably seeing everything but Riku in a white haze. That's what happens when Riku gets angry, and it's about the only reason why Sora ever won a match against him -- get Riku mad enough, and he just concentrates on his target. Even his strength and balance aren't enough for things he simply doesn't see.
"Shut up," says the replica, almost a sob. "Shut up shut up shut up!"
Riku stops a second, surprised by the pain in the other's voice. The copy slams into him, and the Keyblades fly from his hands. The fake doesn't even notice, too busy trying to hit Riku, clawing and swinging wildly.
Bad move, thinks Riku, and punches back. If the fake wants a brawl, he'll give him one. His fist connects solidly with the fake's midsection, making him wheeze and stagger. He doesn't stop, though, charging back toward Riku, who lets him knock him over, rolling back, almost a back-somersault, and then unwinds, letting the fake have it with both feet. He knocked Sora clear off the islet once with that move. Sora landed in the water and Riku had to dive in after him and pound the salt water out of his lungs. He used to be really proud of it, refused to teach it to Sora, and then he saw Sora with two new friends and a move the big one called a Dodge Roll and never used that kick again. (He remembers afterward he practiced the Dodge Roll over and over again in his room in Hollow Bastion, in front of Kairi's unmoving, uncaring form, saying proudly, Look, Kairi, I figured it out, that'll serve that fucking Sora right.) The fake staggers back and Riku lands lightly on his feet, jumps in the air and goes for the other's throat. The copy blocks, somehow, and the next few minutes are a confusing blur of punching and kicking before the copy gets a lucky punch in.
The air goes out of Riku's lungs in an agonized wheeze. The fake doesn't even seem to notice that Riku's down, still hitting, still panting, almost sobbing, as he tries to get his hands around Riku's throat and squeeze.
He wants to kill me, Riku thinks. He wants to kill me so he can be the real one.
He sucks in a breath as best he can and kicks again, sending the fake flying.
The replica crashes against a wall and Riku follows after, grabbing his Keyblade and landing crouched over the fake and putting Soul Eater against his throat. The fake stares up at him with absolute hatred in his eyes and despite the blade at his throat, tries to knee Riku.
"That's enough," says Riku, pressing Soul Eater against the fake's throat.
"Fuck you," says the fake, his face twisted in rage. "Fuck you!" He kicks at Riku and they go rolling, clawing at each other. It's almost like fighting with Sora, like he used to before it dawned on him that there was a reason why Sora wouldn't wrestle with Kairi any more, not because she was a girl, but because she was a particular girl. Before he couldn't wrestle with Sora any more because Sora was Sora and he didn't want to be any more embarassed than he had to be.
He wraps his arms around the fake, trying to stop him from kneeing him in the crotch and they roll halfway across the floor before Riku realizes that the replica isn't sobbing because he can't get his breath, but because he's really sobbing, tears of rage and despair. Riku lands on top of him and the fake tries to bite him.
"I hate you," says the fake. "I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you!"
Everybody hates Riku because Riku hates himself. He feels like crying himself, like he hasn't since the day he woke up on the other side of darkness, since the day he gave in to Ansem. He wraps his arms tighter around the other, and for a second he hates whoever made this clone, whoever took his memories and problems and insecurities and gave them to someone else.
The clone tries to bite him, and he jerks his head back and then, without thinking about it, without thinking of anything, shoves his face awkwardly against the other's and kisses him. The clone freezes for one second, tries to bite, but Riku won't let him. And then the next minute he's kissing Riku back, the taste of salt tears and angry hot in his mouth. It's like eating each other, like trying to destroy the other and take them back into themselves. No fakes, no real ones, just Riku and Riku.
Fingers scrabbling, fighting, trying to get closer, trying to have control. Riku has no idea what he's doing but his body is pressing harder against the body pressing against his, trying to get closer while the other bucks and claws against him.
Sora, thinks Riku, and is not surprised to hear the other say "Sora", like a prayer, like he was begging for something that he can't have, can never have. Riku fumbles with the zippers on clothing -- his, the other's, he can't tell and doesn't really care -- as the other pulls at them, too. Riku kisses Riku, bites at his neck, there is nobody but Riku here and Sora is somewhere else, he is always somewhere else. Riku's hand wedges between Riku's legs and Riku gasps and arches; Riku bites Riku's throat, going lower.
He's heard that everything disappears in blinding light, that all you can think of is what's happening, but Riku is hyperaware of everything around him; the feel of the cold marble floor, the scratching zippers against his skin. It's always been like this, in bed at night, thinking of nothing while your hand slips down, trying to think of the curve of breast and hip and thinking of hair like a rat's nest, thinking of the line his body makes when he dives into the water, thinking of the way he twists and turns when he's fighting with Tidus or Wakka or Selphie. Trying to think of her and thinking of him instead. And then your hand's there and you suck in breath as quietly as you can, still thinking of what you're not supposed to be thinking of.
Not so different from that but with another body against his, hot and making choked sobbing sounds as he bucks against Riku, as Riku wraps his hand around Riku and buries his face in his neck and wants Sora.
That is the last thought he has before he can't think any more.
-----
I actually went to the friend who allows me to use her PS2's house and sat there and fought Riku until I figured out how the kick attack worked. >_> OK, I'm obsessive.
not mine, more's the pity
---
"I don't know what makes you so special."
Riku looks up to see his copy standing in front of him, brows drawn together in a scowl. He thinks, Was I always that way? and then, Oh God, Sora, you must be my best friend if you didn't kill yourself laughing over that outfit. His copy is beautiful, which is a surprise, but maybe it's because you never see yourself how other people see you. He is sure he never looked like that, angry and pale and arrogant.
Riku is learning a lot of things, and this is not the hardest lesson he's had. He remembers Kairi giving him an exasperated look and saying You're not /stupid/, Riku.
Rash and proud and foolhardy, yes. Stupid, he really hopes not.
"What do you mean?" he says, finally.
"You," the other one snaps. "Why are you so special? You didn't even have the guts to follow the dark to the end, so why is everybody so obsessed with /you/?" His face twists. "And if it's not you, it's that Sora. Sora, Sora, Sora! That's all they talk about. That's all Naminé talks about!"
Riku finds himself on his feet. "What about Sora?" he says, quietly.
"You're the same way!" hisses the other. "Look at you, stuck here and all you can think about is him!"
"What do you know about Sora?"
"He didn't protect Naminé! He left me! What's so special about him! What's so special about you!"
It occurs to Riku that eventually he's going to have to find out about this 'Naminé' person, but right now he's more concerned with other things. He steps in front of the replica, grabs him by collar. "What do you know about Sora? Is he here?"
Actually, if he had smirked at other people like the way the fake was smirking at him, he was probably lucky he hadn't been drowned at birth. When (if) he got back home, he was giving his mother a big hug like he hadn't given her since he was about eight years old and apologizing.
"Wouldn't you like to know," says the fake.
"Tell me!"
The fake laughs, and damn, he's quick, quick as Riku himself, wrenched away from Riku's grip and behind him in less than a thought. "I'mmm not tellling," he jeers. "Because you're weeeeak."
The only one as fast as Riku is Riku, and if he was less angry he'd be amused at the shock in the fake's eyes as he draws Soul Eater and follows after him. "I'm stronger than you are," he snaps, landing in front of him.
The shock is wiped away -- he'd always been good at recovering, at keeping a poker face -- and the fake leaps in the air and his Soul Eater is drawn and aimed at Riku in a way that would be a feint from anybody else. Riku doesn't trust himself any further than he could throw himself (what a mixed up analogy, he thinks, distantly, he'd better tell that one to Sora and see what he thinks, or maybe Kairi could untangle it) and he knows, none better, that to him a feint is something that happens when you miss and you want to explain it away. He's out of the way as fast as he can get, striking back. The Soul Eaters clash, white-black sparks, screaming metal against screaming metal. "You're weak," says the fake. "Weak, weak, weak!"
"Is that all you can say?" Riku forces Soul Eater up the other blade, hooks the hilt and /twists/, a trick he perfected on Sora. The replica hisses, more in annoyance than in pain, and his Soul Eater goes flying. Riku grins. "That stung, huh?"
"Shut UP," says the other, and lunges toward him. Riku doesn't leap back -- he's hoping for it, he thinks in the distant part of him mind that always stays alert and thinking during battle, he wants me to get out of the way so he can grab his keyblade -- but he does flip toward the other's Soul Eater, kicking it up to his hand and holding it out.
"Want it?"
"Fucker!" snarls the replica.
"Come get it," he says. "/Weakling/."
The one thing about fighting yourself, Riku thinks, is that you're pretty sure how you're going to react. The fake's mouth twists angrily and he leaps across the hall, landing in front of Riku, one arm sweeping out to try to knock the keyblade away from Riku. Riku is already jumping, twisting in midair to land behind him. "You're /slow/," he says.
"Shut up!" The replica is angry now, probably seeing everything but Riku in a white haze. That's what happens when Riku gets angry, and it's about the only reason why Sora ever won a match against him -- get Riku mad enough, and he just concentrates on his target. Even his strength and balance aren't enough for things he simply doesn't see.
"Shut up," says the replica, almost a sob. "Shut up shut up shut up!"
Riku stops a second, surprised by the pain in the other's voice. The copy slams into him, and the Keyblades fly from his hands. The fake doesn't even notice, too busy trying to hit Riku, clawing and swinging wildly.
Bad move, thinks Riku, and punches back. If the fake wants a brawl, he'll give him one. His fist connects solidly with the fake's midsection, making him wheeze and stagger. He doesn't stop, though, charging back toward Riku, who lets him knock him over, rolling back, almost a back-somersault, and then unwinds, letting the fake have it with both feet. He knocked Sora clear off the islet once with that move. Sora landed in the water and Riku had to dive in after him and pound the salt water out of his lungs. He used to be really proud of it, refused to teach it to Sora, and then he saw Sora with two new friends and a move the big one called a Dodge Roll and never used that kick again. (He remembers afterward he practiced the Dodge Roll over and over again in his room in Hollow Bastion, in front of Kairi's unmoving, uncaring form, saying proudly, Look, Kairi, I figured it out, that'll serve that fucking Sora right.) The fake staggers back and Riku lands lightly on his feet, jumps in the air and goes for the other's throat. The copy blocks, somehow, and the next few minutes are a confusing blur of punching and kicking before the copy gets a lucky punch in.
The air goes out of Riku's lungs in an agonized wheeze. The fake doesn't even seem to notice that Riku's down, still hitting, still panting, almost sobbing, as he tries to get his hands around Riku's throat and squeeze.
He wants to kill me, Riku thinks. He wants to kill me so he can be the real one.
He sucks in a breath as best he can and kicks again, sending the fake flying.
The replica crashes against a wall and Riku follows after, grabbing his Keyblade and landing crouched over the fake and putting Soul Eater against his throat. The fake stares up at him with absolute hatred in his eyes and despite the blade at his throat, tries to knee Riku.
"That's enough," says Riku, pressing Soul Eater against the fake's throat.
"Fuck you," says the fake, his face twisted in rage. "Fuck you!" He kicks at Riku and they go rolling, clawing at each other. It's almost like fighting with Sora, like he used to before it dawned on him that there was a reason why Sora wouldn't wrestle with Kairi any more, not because she was a girl, but because she was a particular girl. Before he couldn't wrestle with Sora any more because Sora was Sora and he didn't want to be any more embarassed than he had to be.
He wraps his arms around the fake, trying to stop him from kneeing him in the crotch and they roll halfway across the floor before Riku realizes that the replica isn't sobbing because he can't get his breath, but because he's really sobbing, tears of rage and despair. Riku lands on top of him and the fake tries to bite him.
"I hate you," says the fake. "I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you!"
Everybody hates Riku because Riku hates himself. He feels like crying himself, like he hasn't since the day he woke up on the other side of darkness, since the day he gave in to Ansem. He wraps his arms tighter around the other, and for a second he hates whoever made this clone, whoever took his memories and problems and insecurities and gave them to someone else.
The clone tries to bite him, and he jerks his head back and then, without thinking about it, without thinking of anything, shoves his face awkwardly against the other's and kisses him. The clone freezes for one second, tries to bite, but Riku won't let him. And then the next minute he's kissing Riku back, the taste of salt tears and angry hot in his mouth. It's like eating each other, like trying to destroy the other and take them back into themselves. No fakes, no real ones, just Riku and Riku.
Fingers scrabbling, fighting, trying to get closer, trying to have control. Riku has no idea what he's doing but his body is pressing harder against the body pressing against his, trying to get closer while the other bucks and claws against him.
Sora, thinks Riku, and is not surprised to hear the other say "Sora", like a prayer, like he was begging for something that he can't have, can never have. Riku fumbles with the zippers on clothing -- his, the other's, he can't tell and doesn't really care -- as the other pulls at them, too. Riku kisses Riku, bites at his neck, there is nobody but Riku here and Sora is somewhere else, he is always somewhere else. Riku's hand wedges between Riku's legs and Riku gasps and arches; Riku bites Riku's throat, going lower.
He's heard that everything disappears in blinding light, that all you can think of is what's happening, but Riku is hyperaware of everything around him; the feel of the cold marble floor, the scratching zippers against his skin. It's always been like this, in bed at night, thinking of nothing while your hand slips down, trying to think of the curve of breast and hip and thinking of hair like a rat's nest, thinking of the line his body makes when he dives into the water, thinking of the way he twists and turns when he's fighting with Tidus or Wakka or Selphie. Trying to think of her and thinking of him instead. And then your hand's there and you suck in breath as quietly as you can, still thinking of what you're not supposed to be thinking of.
Not so different from that but with another body against his, hot and making choked sobbing sounds as he bucks against Riku, as Riku wraps his hand around Riku and buries his face in his neck and wants Sora.
That is the last thought he has before he can't think any more.
-----
I actually went to the friend who allows me to use her PS2's house and sat there and fought Riku until I figured out how the kick attack worked. >_> OK, I'm obsessive.
Sign up to rate and review this story