You know, I was a little afraid at first, but now I'm ready. No matter where I go or what I see, I know I can always come back here. Right?
He had contemplated this line for hours on end, Kairi’s words ringing through his skull with piercing dissonance.
Here he was, in a familiar place he thought was only a dream. He stood on a large panel of stained glass, and his every footstep seemed to make him shake ever so slightly for fear of the floor underneath smashing to bits, the glass crunching and slowly growing black. Here he was, his thoughts murky and his fears material.
Sora found a spot where metal lines carefully divided and framed several substantial portions of the portrait and rest his weary body on the intersection, carefully placing each foot on a metal line that separated the glass and resting his hands, put together, on one more line placed underneath his head and back. He began by sobbing, tracking where he may have went wrong in his analysis, but eventually resorted to a snarky, chirpy attitude about the situation, oddly blasé and yet fitting to Sora’s take on the matter.
Why they had kept him alive for so long was his first question. It was not that Sora thought that he would ever get to speak with Xehanort, but in his curiosity he felt inclined to at least try to get a chat in. He saw himself moving in this space, sitting and pulsing, yet his body fell limp. It was a strange paralysis, that.
The Organization seemed ever-the-more clandestine, with their every word untrusting and their every intention bent on stretching the truth. Xehanort, or whoever that young man really was, seemed equally aware of the enigmatic nature of his role in The Organization, yet seemed ultimately willing to make sure that every step of his elder self’s goal had fallen into the perfect little slot he had intended it to. Sora had a strange hope that something or someone unlikely would intervene but did not take his optimism too much to heart. It seemed like this was the end of the road for him – maybe this was a battle that he wouldn’t be able to walk away from.
In the hours of sobbing came reflection and regret, and in that regret he cursed that raft he had made with his friends. He wishes that he could tell Kairi the same thing now, that he would always come back for her. He wasn’t as afraid back then as he was now, because he didn’t believe that he’d actually lose her or Riku. But now… let’s just say that he wasn’t as optimistic about that now.
“The first thing I’ll do when I get back is bite that Paopu fruitâ€, Sora said to himself. “That way she'll know that I’ll always go back there, right?â€
Sora silently sobbed to himself as the light on the panel slowly turned darker and darker.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, well there's a short story that I'll continue to work on for a story thread. For now, here it is for the name change thread like my first short story!
I want my name changed to just Grono instead of GronoTRIGGERED if you can