#but ven immediately ran up to him and said otherwise before sora could say something

[storm-driver]

had a very wild kh-related dream last night that was like a post-kh3 kinda setting where roxas, sora and ven all were laying out on the beach near each other. a lil distance between them, sora and ven were laying in the sun, but roxas was in the shade beneath something. and ven woke up to drag roxas into the sun, who yelled at him to stop, but ven just laughed while roxas was forced to be dragged into the light.

edit: ive been told this means im the ceo of roxas and ven, idk what to do with this information

[mimiplaysgames]

in the shape of a star (3/5)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Word Count: 8,765

Summary: What they need to rebuild their home was to be more honest. Aqua hoped for the best when she told Terra about the Guardian, and it threatened to tear their walls down.

Read on AO3

A/N: SO MANY THANK YOU'S AND I LOVE YOU'S TO @holyteapotofrussell​ WHO BETA-READ THIS FOR ME. Also I'm evil for writing this, I know. It'll get better, I promise.

*****

nobody

Waking up was always disorienting, maddening even.

Aqua was going to mumble that she needed five extra minutes. She deserved as much, but the shake on her arm was warm and gentle… she would even say loving, and she didn’t want him to let go.

Terra knelt by the couch where she took refuge. They had adopted the habit of sleeping in the Master’s old office every night right by the fireplace, where she dreamt better. Sleep became safe enough for her to stay, and Terra was now the one who started his day earlier. Somehow, he snuck her out of his arms with finesse, each and every time, that she’d never even stir.

In the sunshine, his eyes were bold.

“Good morning,” he said softly. His smile was a welcome sight. She’d grown to need it every time she opened her eyes in order to breathe steadier, and with every cycle of the sun coming up over the mountains, she’s forced to muster enough strength to keep herself from blurting out such a delicate truth.

Fighting Heartless was easier than this.

“Morning,” she hummed, rubbing her eyes. 

His smile tightened, weaving shut whatever bad news he carried with him. 

“I didn’t want to scare you,” he said. He wasn’t talking about shaking her awake - the way his throat gripped his voice said so.

Aqua immediately stood up, tiredness forgotten. “What happened?”

His lips quivered. “Ven won’t wake up.”

She bolted out of the office, through the hall to the western wing, down the bridges to the tower where the bedrooms were. It all passed in a blur.

She stormed into Ven’s room. He was sound asleep in bed, his breath inaudible and unmoving.

“Ven.” His skin at least was warm, though he looked otherwise. “Ven, please. Please wake up.”

She whimpered, she cried, she whispered. He wouldn’t listen.

And he was all by himself. 

When Terra followed inside, she was ready to throw chairs over. “Where’s Cheers?” 

“I don’t know.”

“What does that mean?” she snapped. Not even the boom in her voice woke Ven up.

“Aqua,” he whispered, coming close to her, brushing his fingertips on her forearm like she was a wounded animal. He kept so calm. She was envious of that. “I don’t know.”

Meltdowns came in two storms: like thunder, explosive and loud and terrifying, unable to be calmed until it passed, hurting anyone unlucky enough to be exposed. If not that, then like the rain, building into a downpour, enough to flood someone’s face, and keep them weighted underneath the surface.

Aqua experienced the latter, hunching over her shoulders as she wished she never learned how to cry. She crawled onto Ven’s bed to settle by his side, holding a hand over his heart, which still thrummed under her palm. 

Terra joined her by taking Ven’s other side, and rested his hand over hers. It wasn’t as warm as it was just several minutes ago.

“It’s all my fault,” she said, sweeping Ven’s hair out of his face. “I took too long to save him.”

“Then it’s mine, too.” He stared long enough for her to be swallowed by his eyes, which were glassy. “I was idle when I should have-” he gulped. 

They’ve had this conversation before, and no amount of repetitions or apologies would change anything. 

Still, he finished the one thought he repeated the most. She could recite the words for him: “I should have saved all you, and I did nothing instead.”

If conversations went in ellipses, Terra and Aqua always took the same orbit and never crossing over into the details. Sometimes they got close enough to finally spill, only to back off. Sometimes they never even came close. It was always about I should have done more and skipping over This is what happened to me.  

She sighed, taking two of his fingers with two of hers. When words wouldn’t suffice, or refused to come, they carried a language in their hands.

It’s okay, was what she said through them this time.

She wondered if time would be generous enough one day to wipe their minds and give them a fresh start. “What are we going to do?”

He gave her a gentle squeeze. “We’ll figure something out,” he said. “We’ll do whatever it takes, go wherever we need to go.”

When it came to the well-being of other people, Terra was always the most confident, the most faithful, the most daring. He never offered himself the same kindness.

“What if we can’t-” she started.

“Aqua…” He stroked her thumb with his, and she shushed, feeling Ven’s heart thump under their grip.

There was a swoosh and a sparkle that lit up the room. Chirithy landed on the bedside table from wherever it came from, like nothing was amiss.

But Aqua wasn’t going to let it get away with anything.

“Where were you?” she growled while she rolled over from the bed. 

Terra stayed behind and carried Ven’s into his arms. 

Chirithy twitched its ears like it wasn’t sure what it heard. “Why are-”

“What did you to him?” 

It hung its head, a deep pout into its eyes and two paws gnawing at its chin. “I sent him a dream,” it squeaked. 

“Excuse me?” she spat. Aqua had prepared for nights when something would go bump in the dark. The only thing that surprised her was that it happened in the morning. She was ready to protect her family, marching up to Chirithy and about to grab the creature when Terra-

“Aqua,” he called gently like he was cooing her, with a smile that told stories of compassion while Ven slept soundly in his arms. He didn’t judge her, he never did. “Don’t.”

She could but she didn’t, not with Terra looking at her like that, like he understood that it would only suck her into a black hole if she continued.

Terra wanted peace, and she complied. 

“I came back so he would follow me,” Chirithy said, twiddling its paws. Its ears drooped down, and its voice trembled. It actually started to cry, with mewls as sobs. “He will wake up, I promise.”

Aqua’s breath shook with all her pent-up anger, which was at war with reassurance and guilt. 

She didn’t mean to make it cry. 

Terra said, “If he- When he wakes up, we need to act normal. He’ll get scared and will never want to sleep ever again.”

Aqua drew a long, long breath. Terra was right. The only reason Ventus was able to doze off these days was because of Chirithy, when getting him to stay in bed beforehand was a marathon of hours that ran late into the night. 

She shot Chirithy a glare instead of speaking, dabbing the tiniest of tears out of her eyes. Terra was breathing harder than usual, and that was because he was also taking a risk in trusting Chirithy. 

Then there was a sharp inhale, and a mumble. Ven.

“Wha-?” he drawled, his eyes too groggy to register who was holding him. “Why-"

Terra was better at hiding his feelings, and he dodged the onslaught of teary relief taking over him by rough-housing Ventus to consciousness.

“Umf, Terra-”

“That’s what you get,” Terra said, making a mess out of blond hair. 

“For what?"

“You were snoring really loudly.” Terra finally let him go. 

Ventus pushed him over (weakly, nothing could really push Terra over), and rubbed his eyes hard enough to make them red. 

It was time to play along. Aqua smiled to fake it, and glided over to the bed, finding a particular spot that acted as a barrier between Chritihy and her dear, dear friend. “We should have used one of those gummi phones to record you.”

At this, Ventus stuck his tongue out. “Do that and I’ll never let you in my room again.” 

It seemed to have worked - knowing him, he’d expect both of them to snicker behind his back. Lying was a tiny cost for the greater good. 

“Where’s Cheers?” he asked, surveying the room, and it honestly made Aqua’s heart drop.

Chirithy waddled over, settling into Ven’s lap. “I had the craziest dream last night.”

“I told you.” Chirithy wiggled its ears, taking its place in the middle of a reluctant family, and Aqua wondered if Terra felt like his choice in the matter was stolen from him, too.

“Tell us,” Terra said softly, like nothing bothered him. He’ll have to teach Aqua his ways later.

Something far away made its way to Ven’s eyes as he recalled it. “I was in an underground city - no, not underground. It was underwater. And there were people there I recognized, but I couldn’t tell who they were. I didn’t know their faces.”

What was more threatening than Ven’s coma was the idea that Chirithy tried to take him to strangers.

Ven lit up. “Sora was with them. I saw Sora!”

Aqua and Terra exchanged brief, uneasy side-glances. It had been several weeks since Sora’s disappearance, and neither of them had traces that could lead them anywhere.

“What did he say?” Terra asked.

“He asked if I was okay,” Ventus said, a warm smile gracing his face. “That was it.”

Maybe Chirithy did Sora a favor. 

Ven watched Aqua, leaving behind his thoughts. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” she sighed. “I mean- yes. We’re just running really late.”

“Oh, shit!” (Language, Ven, said Terra.) He threw himself off the bed as soon as he got the reminder. “Sorry! I’ll eat breakfast right away and get ready. C’mon Cheers.”

Like nothing was truly wrong, Ventus rushed out of his room with a cat that wasn’t quite a predator trailing his feet.

Aqua breathed hard. “Do you think-”

“Maybe,” Terra said. 

“What Cheers can do...”

“It’s a little weird.” Terra gazed at her, gently stroking her arm. “He’s fine now.”

“But-”

“I don’t think Cheers meant to hurt him.”

Aqua smiled but it contorted into a grimace that strained for control. “I’ve changed too much,” she said. She never trusted anyone again. She got too hot-headed and protective of her loved-ones to her detriment, and she refused help worse than she used to. 

“You’re fine the way you are. I’d rather have an Aqua in my life than somebody else.” He scoffed like what he said wasn’t a big deal.

She took his hand to acknowledge his compliment, squeezed it to tell him she appreciated it, and slammed it onto the bed sheets to tell him he needed a new friend. He chuckled.

Then she let go, as she always did when there were things to do and reasons to get away from intimate conversations that could change the course of their friendship forever. Those were dangerous waters, and they needed to tread carefully.

But Aqua only made it to the hallway when she gasped sharply, the air turning cold enough to slice her throat. 

At the end of the hallway - the opposite direction that Ventus and his Chirithy took to get to the kitchen - was another. 

Its back was to her, its cape as red and pink as a bodily organ, its fur a plum purple. She didn’t have to look into its face to know it might be rabid. She didn’t have a clean history with their Chirithy, but this one was definitely not friendly, and it invaded her home.

“What’s wrong?” Terra asked, rushing out of Ven’s room.

She took one glance at him and then back - and the dark Chirithy was gone. “It was right there.” She pointed.

Terra stood in that direction, and cupped her chin to bring her to him. The way he looked at her - sometimes it was inconvenient to deal with how well he could read her. “Aqua, there’s nothing there.”

“It was another Chirithy.”

“Okay.”

She shook in his fingers, and held his wrist tight enough to make him pay attention to every single little word. “I’m not crazy.”

Terra traced her jaw to cup her head with both hands, his breath deep enough to lure her to follow his rhythm. Forehead to forehead, his eyes demanded  her attention. “You’re not. I’ll make laps around the castle to make sure. You get dressed, we have a lot to do today. Let me know if you need help.”

With that, he rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs and left her colder than she was in his proximity. 

It certainly never was in her plans to let him in that way. Before, the thought of him dressing her was… embarrassing yet safe, maybe exciting a little. Now it just made her blush. 

But blushing was a minor thing in comparison to how her heart leaped right now, and the feelings she always knew she had were threatening to betray their little secret. 

Aqua peeked into her room first to make sure the mirror was still covered, exactly the way she left it, before stepping inside.

 ~*~*~*~

The trick to facing her fears, Aqua thought to herself, was to keep breathing.

She kept hers steady with every stride, maintaining a momentum that led her forward while she left everyone else behind, including Ienzo, who was supposed to be her guide. If she slowed down, even for a second, who knew what kind of thoughts would invade her mind. 

Around the corner was Ansem the Wise’s office. It was a little messy, but the old man wasn’t keen on dusting old and painful memories just yet when his team was so focused on improving lives for the future. 

Aqua wasn’t expecting anything when she entered - certainly not the giant painting of Terra’s face. 

Yet it wasn’t Terra’s face. He wouldn’t look this serious, this arrogant, this distant from whoever it was that painted this portrait, his white hair styled with so much gel that it looked oily.

It made her angry, and soon Terra was going to catch up with her.

“Fire,” she hummed with a low voice, her fingers outstretched as she heated the fibers that brought those colors together until they burst through brown eyes, and false-Terra’s face was no more.

“Whoa,” Ven’s voice said behind her, watching the show. “Aqua, that isn’t ours to mess with.”

She knew that. Certain things just seemed trivial, silly even, after the years she’s had. “It’s not good for Terra to see this.”

Ienzo was the next to enter the room. He stammered at the sight, and readjusted his already impeccable collar to compose himself. “I suppose we do not need it anymore,” he simply said, and Aqua felt justified. 

Terra was the last to come. The first thing he noticed was the smokey soot littering the ground under an empty frame. He smirked - there was no telling if he knew what it used to look like, but considering that no one in the room talked about it (like it never existed in the first place), he let it go, taking one look at Aqua like he knew she was to blame. 

What was more important was behind the frame: a secret passageway to… a field of underground containers. It was gross to see, violating almost, like they were designed to hold bodies (hearts, more likely). 

It also led to a room full of computer screens, where Ienzo gestured to Terra. 

“I already know how to get to the bottom floor,” said Ienzo. He typed several passwords into the computer. Whatever they hid down below was well guarded. “But I have never, in all my life, been able to access that final room. None of us have. If what you say is true…”

“It is,” Terra said. He had his arms crossed but his naturally polite smile glowed with ease. Ienzo flustered at the sight of it.

“T-then I should be able to access it.” Ienzo focused strongly on the keys below him, before commanding it to do something with a final touch of a button. 

Whatever machinery he summoned was loud, and the floor under her vibrated ever so softly. An entrance through the floor opened far from them. 

“Are you all ready?” Ienzo asked.

The smile on Terra’s face - the one he wore for the sake of saving face when he dealt with strangers - fell completely, dragging his eyes down to the floor.

“Aqua,” he called, approaching her. For a moment, she thought he was going to take her hand, but he stopped himself short. 

They were in public.

Instead, he traced her hand with his gaze, before following her arm to her eyes. “I don’t…” he started softly, quieting it into an almost-whisper. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go down there.”

If Aqua was honest, she had been dreading this day. She couldn’t gauge how Terra would behave: whether he would get hysterical, or turn stone-cold, or disappear altogether. 

So this, this, she appreciated. And she was proud of him for recognizing it before throwing himself head-first against a brick wall of triggers. 

They preferred touching a private act but Aqua decided to risk it: she graced two of his fingers with a firm clutch, taking a moment to consciously ignore how the others avoided to witness. “I agree.”

Terra let himself breathe. Funny how sometimes the act of drinking air made them feel unsafe. “Riku and Isa are waiting for me outside. I’ll be with them,” he said. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of Aqua,” Ventus said. 

“Then she’s in good hands.” To her, he said, “You’ll feel better with a Keyblade.” With that, Terra let go, hesitating while turning over his shoulder, and taking it slow to leave the room.

Ienzo cleared his throat - he did that too often, and Aqua had half a mind to advise him to drink water. “Well, onward and downward I suppose.”

“Do you not want to go?” Aqua asked.

Ienzo was usually so sweet, it was hard to see how aloof he became. “Of course not. You will see why.”

The passageway that led downstairs spiraled into darkness, as though the lights from above couldn’t reach. Traversing them was enough of an exercise, and every once in a while, Ventus would complain: Are we there yet? Who was stupid enough to design it this way? Whatever is down there better be worth it. 

When they finally reached the door, it was worth it to Ventus, who awed and poked his head through immediately. It was just one hallway, its white walls pristine as though the last person who left it behind had scrubbed it of all proof of activity. 

But a mass of darkness stained its walls, unseen to the naked eye but it lingered all the same. To Aqua it was sickening, and the hand to her mouth didn’t quell the nausea. 

“Down here,” Ienzo said. He was acting more and more like a zombie with every step he took. 

“What were these rooms for?” Ventus asked. 

Aqua knew Ienzo had history here. Of all the darkness she faced and inhabited inside her own body, she could never imagine how to make peace with the horrors made with his hands. How to pay for them. How to amend.

Ventus could never understand Ienzo either for this exact reason, and she hoped that would always stay the same.

“Experiments,” Ienzo said. He offered nothing else. 

So they walked in silence. Some of the shut doors had peep holes with bars that blocked views. Aqua could make out that some of them had machinery inside, whereas others were empty. Ventus had to jump and grab the bars just to see - his imagination had much more fun than either of theirs.

At the end of the hallway was another shut door. Aqua nearly called it Terra’s door, but he’d be sick if he was here, too.

Ienzo approached a keypad, activating it based on Terra’s instructions. The door slid open with a hiss, and all three of them just stood there. Neither volunteered to go in first.

“After you.” Ienzo waved his arm out, and she wished he didn’t.

Inside was another white room, but it gave her a horrid, frigid deja vu. 

Energy radiated in chains, from the throne at the center outward to the walls. This room… it was almost an exact copy of the room she left Ventus to sleep in years ago. How this was possible, who knew he was there to begin with? Who tried to find him? 

Thank goodness he was safe all this time.

“Aqua,” Ventus called, “look!”

Swept and left to the side was a heap of blue metal, the only color in this cold room. 

And if Keyblades had faces, Aqua wouldn’t know if hers would welcome this reunion.

“My word,” Ienzo said. “Never in my wildest dreams would I have considered this being here.” The way he said it sounded like he was just as creeped out as she was. “How fortunate for you, we were about to seal this entire floor forever.”

She raced to her Keyblade and stopped herself just short of embracing it. 

Did it want her back?

Stormfall was the extension of her heart and very soul. If she was afraid of it, then surely…

No, sentience of a Keyblade didn’t work that way. She had to believe that.

“Who built this?” she asked as she knelt to her knees.

“Xemnas.” By now, Ienzo had stopped smiling, had stopped being warm and inviting, like he stopped realizing there were reasons to continue living. 

Yes, she knew of Xemnas. She recognized a face out in the desert the very last time she fought thirteen darknesses. Then they all perished before she had a chance to speak to him.

Thinking about it, would she even had wanted that? 

What would she have spoken with him about? Here was proof that he still had attachments to people he didn’t really know that well or understood, and here she was without the foggiest idea of who he was. 

The only thing Aqua wanted back the first time she saw him was Terra, plain and simple. Xemnas stole a body, stole a face, did unspeakable things that Terra wasn’t capable of doing, and she wasn’t sure if any of that was worthy of forgiveness. 

If Xemnas somehow missed her presence, missed Ventus, or wished for a better life, she wouldn’t know. Or maybe he was cold-hearted to the end. 

Even if she found it in her heart to befriend him, there was no denying Xehanort’s influence and how dangerous that was.There was no way she was going to accept a single strand of white hair on Terra’s head until he was old enough to grow them.

… She remembered now. Sentience of a Keyblade was the reflection of her relationship with herself. And there was nothing to be proud of. 

Therefore, her Keyblade couldn’t be proud of her either.

“What was he like?” Ventus asked.

“Xemnas?” Ienzo cleared his throat. Again. It took him several moments, a string of loud breaths to find words to describe such a person, and Aqua brushed her fingers against her blade, a soft, tender energy to the metal as it woke up and recognized her. 

“He wasn’t someone to be crossed,” Ienzo finally said.

Ventus sighed. “Guess I wouldn’t have liked him.”

She grabbed the hilt slowly, trying not to offend. It’s so much lighter than the Master’s Defender.

With Stormfall in her hands, she trembled harder than ever. If this was what it felt like to be whole, then it dug a new void inside of her, her body betrayed, her senses violated, and there wasn’t a spell in the world that could clean her. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to it, softly enough that only Stormfall would hear, thinking about the last person who held it in his hand. “I did it for him.”

Calm embraced her. Stormfall didn’t regret it either.

Ienzo chuckled, not paying attention to what Aqua was doing whatsoever. “Xemnas never smiled like Terra, that’s for certain.”

“Enough about Xemnas,” Aqua said, shutting them up. In a time like this, when she needed to coax her Keyblade home, the last thing she needed to think about was a stranger, much less a clone. 

It was bitter, maybe even dejected? It was her heart, so Stormfall would always be hers. 

And it was just as much Terra’s. If he had to use it to protect himself, Stormfall would have agreed. Those bonds were the point of a Keyblade.

She willed it to stay with her - it didn’t respond like Master’s Defender, which was always ready to protect, a simple testament of a father.

Stormfall had a different perspective in life - it was always ready to attack.

Aqua decided for now to keep it in her hand, let it get used to being held, let it learn what it felt like to be home again. 

Afterward, she focused on collecting every piece of her armor with her free hand, leaving no scraps behind as it easily made its way back into her skin and into her heart, waiting for the next time she needed it. 

“You’re not in the least bit curious?” Ventus asked her.

He was still on about Xemnas? “No.” She stood up, taking her route out of the room.

“But-”

“What’s in the past should stay buried there.” She didn’t mean for her voice to echo through the hall. “He’s gone. He’s no one. We have Terra back, that’s all that matters.”

Aqua didn’t like the look he gave her - shocked, a little anxious, pitiful. But he understood when he nodded, letting his initial distaste for her reaction melt away into something much more accepting. He was truly the only one of the three to have a level head, much smarter than either of them give him credit for. This was the benefit of keeping a childlike wonder of the world - it made him stronger than anyone else. 

“You’re right,” he said. “Come on, this place sucks. Let’s get some fresh air.”

The trek upstairs was more tiring than the other way, and Ventus complained with every step.

 ~*~*~*~

Outside was a different story altogether. Aqua still had Stormfall in her hand, the sun getting ready to rest on the peaceful city of Radiant Garden. But there was still some bustle, the clash of metal and the sparks of magic slamming against each other. 

She and Ventus walked down the castle steps that led to where Terra, Riku, and Isa sparred in the gardens beyond the moat. Aqua stopped to watch; it had been a while since she studied the way Terra fought, and if he didn’t know she was peeking into his private training, then he wouldn’t mind. 

Terra moved as she always knew. He was precise, commanding of his space. He conquered when he invaded the gap between himself and his opponent, he was hard to knock backwards, and he was graceful in the control he had of his body. He was beautiful.

Isa still had his giant cleaver - if he would eventually agree to a Keyblade, the only person he wanted to bequeath him was Lea, who still had a long way to go before he had the privilege... but maybe it didn’t matter since their bond was stronger than tradition. If Terra was aggressive, he didn’t hold a candle in comparison: shockwaves and blasts and ruptures that engulfed the entire garden and whatever else that fit the definition of excessive outbursts. This was what Isa always knew, and once he had a Keyblade, it would be interesting to see just how useful his skills would be. He’d be able to cover wide surface areas, perfect in protecting others. 

Then there was Riku, quick and efficient and stronger than he looked, parrying attacks with simple strikes. He was only flashy when he needed to be, preferring perfection of technique. It made sense why they chose Riku, all of them having been witness to an invasion of darkness within their bodies, all of them having to rise above it in their own ways. 

Riku egged both of them on, paying particular attention to Terra.

There was a lot of, Come on, Terra.

And, You can do this.

Plus, Don’t be afraid of yourself.

The more Terra listened, the more a black slickness flickered off his skin. Riku was teaching him to control the darkness that would forever be a scar.

Aqua told herself she didn’t mind that. 

Then a hole of darkness opened in the ground, and she lurched forward, nearly vaulting onto a steppe just above her. Terra was going to be swallowed again, and this time he jumped in on his own accord. 

She was about to yell, but Riku wasn’t disturbed by it. Great, was what he said, and he circled the perimeter with the expectation that something was coming. Isa was unsure of what to do, keeping still as he looked over his shoulder and by the trees.

A hole opened right under him, to his dismay, and Terra bolted out of it, thrusting his power upward on an Isa who was ill-prepared.

And Riku congratulated Terra for finally accepting such a technique with professionalism. 

It made Aqua whimper for a bit, enough for Ventus to rush over to her side, asking her what was wrong. 

“It’s…” She didn’t continue. It was like watching that thing, that Guardian all over again. That was what it loved to do in a fight: creep and wrestle and catch its opponents by surprise with no mercy. 

It never left Terra. Was he even aware of it? 

Of course not, she never told him.

“I’m fine,” she said to Ventus, straightening herself up. “It just surprised me, that’s all.” She gave him the most genuine smile she could fake, and it seemed like he accepted it. It seemed.

Sparring was finished for the day, and Terra rested his giant Keyblade onto his shoulder as he heaved with breath and chuckled, like it was the end of a pleasant few hours of hard work. Riku was much more distant - Sora’s disappearance had been a heavy weight, and conversation with him was like talking to a wall half the time, but he responded when he had to.

Isa said something with a very serious face, and Terra and Riku melted into laughter.

Aqua didn’t even notice that Naminé was there, sitting on a stone bench to watch them fight while she drew sketches of their postures. She was also one who was hesitant about taking a Keyblade, but if she decided yes, she wanted Terra’s blessing. 

Naminé had Chirithy by her side, and carried it with her when she was ready to join the conversation. Could the all-knowing cat ever sense that she wasn’t created in a womb? 

“We’re having dinner with them downtown,” Ventus said. 

“Huh?”

“We were invited.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t you open your gummiphone?” He flipped his out and scrolled through text messages. “You should get on top of that, we’re going to look like old people to them.”

“Okay.” 

“Lea will be there,” he said like it was incentive. “And Kairi, and Xion. Roxas, too. Everyone. It should be nice.”

There was a nagging feeling in the clutch of her diaphragm that Ventus was implying she should get out more. 

Sure, she could handle it. She could push back the memories of shadows, and of giant demons with horns and bindings on their mouths from her mind for a couple of hours.

~*~*~*~ 

Aqua took plenty of time to spar by herself. Stormfall was a bit of a hassle, and Ventus, as her student, was sometimes the victim of heavy handling when Aqua never meant to.

He laughed about it, said her Keyblade was just as snippy as she was. 

So she cut half her days between her apprentice and herself, while Terra continued his private lessons with Riku. 

Her boys expected that she would suddenly turn over a new leaf with her reunion - as though all the things she feared would magically disappear. They didn’t. The only person that drew away the nightmares was Terra, and that was because they continued to sleep together in the Master’s office, legs finding spaces in between to settle for the night, and arms resting under torsos and heads since the couch was so small. Under his chin and against his chest, Aqua would always be safe. 

She tried to turn off lights by herself, daring to sit in a dark room for ten minutes. She still couldn’t bring herself to do it. 

She tried to look at her reflection in the mirror, but she wouldn’t pull the bedsheet off of it.

And Aqua promised herself she would be braver the next day, the next morning, the next hour.

But at least she didn’t consider herself a coward. It wasn’t like she wasted twelve years for nothing. She just needed time. 

Terra had been busier with Merlin’s lessons but he still kept his promise with coming home before the sun set completely, though now he often rushed into the workroom, tucked at the back of the castle where machinery and hand tools were stored.

It was where she initially welded all of their Wayfinders.

Terra was there tonight with an apron on, his quartz crystals shaped in hexagonal styles, with each end pointed and pretty. He hustled with mixing water on his sandpaper, and scrubbed away at each side of each crystal before starting the tedious process of using the polish. 

“Knock knock,” she said, tapping the doorway. “How’s it going?"

He mumbled something - such a Terra thing to do when he’s obsessed with getting something right. He twisted over his shoulder to give her the least bit of acknowledgment before going back to his work. “It’s going,” he repeated.

Aqua crept over his shoulder to see him overwork as he continued torturing himself with the details. “What are you aiming for?”

He sighed. “Merlin said lots of things, one of them being that if I actually want to put magic into the crystal, then I would have to give it my all.”

She rolled her lips inward and shrugged. “I told you crystal activation was difficult.”

“Mm.”

“Why did you even start with this?” She stopped herself from asking, Shouldn’t you have chosen something easier?

Terra took a moment, letting the sandpaper hang in his hand. “I asked for it.”

“Why?”

“Because…” He searched the room, and when he found his answer, he didn’t look at her. “I wanted to prove myself.”

She murmured, “You’re always pushing yourself so hard.” 

He nodded in return, and went back to his work.

“So how far did you come?” she asked.

Terra exhaled with frustration, and left the sandpaper on the workbench. “I can’t get any of it right.”

He had demanded to learn these lessons on his own only because his pride was on the line, and she wished she could tell him that she could be proud for him, just as he was, without embarrassing him. 

But Aqua couldn’t help herself. Seeing Terra this frustrated was entertaining.

“Do you want some tips?”

He rolled his eyes at her and studied her face. “...Sure.”

With a pep in her step, she took one of his more polished pieces of crystal since it was more prepared to capture power than the raw ones. “Merlin teaches like a wizard, not like someone with a Keyblade.” She twirled it in her hands. “Crystals are like permanent storage for magical commands, so he’s correct that you’d have to give it more intent in order for it to activate, right?”

She held it up in the air to let the light flash on its surface. “Our Keyblades are an extension of our hearts. As children, we don’t know what they’re supposed to look like, not until we figure out who we are and begin to decide what we want for our lives. Then they take shape. They represent us, and take a solid form when we’re asking and ready for the burden. It doesn’t take from us, it becomes us.

“But foreign objects aren’t like that. They don’t have connections to our hearts, so we literally have to give a piece of it to them.”

She paused. This was why she never performed such rituals. She needed her Keyblade completely whole, giving her all the freedom to perform magic however she wanted. 

“Terra, you will literally cut your magic into tiny slices to put inside. Are you sure you want to do that?”

He shrugged one shoulder and answered, “Yes,” like it was no big deal.

“Why?”

He took his crystal back, caressing it before going back to the polish. “Like I said, I need to prove myself.”

“For what, though?”

He smirked, long breaths drawn out between words. “I’ve always thought that I was someone special because the Keyblade chose me. After what happened… if I may be honest… sometimes I wondered if it was really a blessing after all.”

She hummed. It was all too familiar, more than she wanted to admit. “I had wondered the same thing.”

“Well…” Something that had nothing to do with her drew a hopeful smile on his face. “I want to do something special again.”

“Okay.” That was as good of an answer as she was going to get. 

With her approval, he beamed. It reached his eyes and for the first time Aqua grasped just how important this was to him, even if she didn’t understand. In time, she figured she will. 

For a moment she watched him buff the crystal with polish, his lips moving with silent words as he tried again and again to transfer a part of himself into its core. After too long, he decided he couldn’t do it, but she didn’t expect him to be able to succeed the first time.

“I can’t wait to see what you’ll do with it,” she softly said when he tried for the last time. 

It was exactly what he needed to hear, and he dropped his work, catching her gaze with gratitude in his tired smile. They stared at each other like that, his hands messy and hers leaning on the workbench, eyes taking in information that was familiar, like the color of their irises, and how they looked when they were happy and quiet and comfortable. 

But her eyes took in new information too, as newly discovered tenderness churned in her belly the more she lingered into his pupils. She noticed lines in his irises that she had never noticed before.

His eyes flickered.

He gripped a fist to throw away his nervousness before wiping his hands with a rag. Then he cupped her face, and for a second Aqua prepared for something she’d been hoping for. 

Terra took his other hand to brush through her hair, and she led an uneasy breath to steady. Maybe she was silly for wanting to touch his lips. 

“I’m still no good at it, huh?” she asked, her heart screaming at her ears from how close he came.

“Not. At. All.” He smirked to do away with his shaky breath, parting her hair the way he recognized her.

Ventus, however, was the master of worst timing, and he barged into the room like he had no idea how hard his best friends were struggling. “There you guys are. The sky is clear tonight.”

Except he wasn’t dumb. “If you could stop touching each other for at least an hour, maybe we could hang out and stargaze like we used to?” 

Terra stammered. Terra let her go. Terra wiped his hands on his apron, and Aqua brought hers to her face to hide her blushing. 

Ventus had reason: twelve years apart, and she’d never want to miss stargazing with her two best friends ever again. 

They huddled at the front steps of the castle - Ven with Chirithy on his lap, and Terra by Aqua’s side, leaning on one arm with a suggestive distance between the two of them. 

The stars gave their blessings in a sky void of clouds, which was rare so high in the mountains. Hikes in the Realm of Darkness had left Aqua wishing for a night exactly like this.

“When I was asleep,” Ven said. “I flew to the sky to reach them.”

“Excuse me?” Aqua said. 

“In Sora’s reality.” Despite how insane the subject matter sounded, Ven talked about it like they were at a simple dinner party. “Do you have any idea what kind of awesomeness I was doing in his brain?”

Terra snorted.

“One day, I was breathing underwater,” Ven continued. “Then I was chasing rabbits. Another day, I was petting cute creatures. I played cards with monsters, and went to Halloween parties where I dressed up to look scarier, and I fought pirates and-”

“You mean Sora did all those things,” Terra said.

“Well, yeah but… it seemed real to me.”

He grinned and Aqua couldn’t feel anything but grateful to Sora. It was the one reason why he wasn’t as messed up as she was: Ven had plenty of reminders of what awaited for him when he woke up. He had hope. He had Sora, and there was no one better to spend twelve years with. 

“I want to do the same one day,” Ven said, his eyes locked on the stars above. “Have crazy fun adventures. Turn nightmares into dreams.”

“Turn nightmares into dreams?” Chirithy asked, as if the concept was foreign. 

“Sure.” Ven leaned backward on both hands. “I want to be like Sora. I want to teach people that they don’t have to stick to their fears, and that they can do whatever it is they want to do, especially if it changes their circumstances.”

He turned to Terra and Aqua. “What do you think?”

Aqua was proud of him. 

“Just don’t disappear on us,” Terra said, ruffling Ven’s hair into a flattened heap of hay. “Or you’re grounded.”

“Worse will happen to you if you keep ruining my hair,” he muttered, restyling his bangs. 

Chirithy said nothing. 

But as fast as Ven got excited, he retreated into reflection. He shifted uncomfortably on his step, and twiddled his fingers. He prepared a question that Aqua had been waiting for him to ask, but he never quite found the time or place to do so. Perhaps that perfect moment didn’t exist.

“What was it like for you guys?”

She had spoken little of the Realm of Darkness. Refusing to stand in the dark or to look into mirrors gave her boys enough of an idea of what it was like, but she had described it in simple terms: lonely and sad. 

Terra rubbed his chin, and Aqua really wanted to know about his experience. Since she never spoke about herself, she never asked him either. 

“I was angry all the time if I wasn’t crying,” Terra said. “I couldn’t see anything, and if I heard voices, I barely understood them.”

All of them sat still, under stars that stopped guiding their hopes, even though they were free and safe now.

“I would see orbs sometimes,” Terra continued. “Sometimes I got weird feelings, like I was going to die if I tried to fight it, and…”

He inhaled sharply like he said too much. “I begged a lot for it to stop,” were his final words on the subject.

“I begged a lot, too,” Aqua said. They looked at her now, almost leaning forward to listen for more. “I saw lots of different worlds, but they were empty. The environment would change for the purpose of getting me lost, and there was a lot of traveling with no one to talk to. That’s if I wasn’t fighting Heartless. Sometimes I wanted to disappear forever.”

She thought about certain things, and never offered words on them. Instead, she said, “You know, sometimes I saw the both of you.”

“For real?” Ven asked.

“Yeah.” She rubbed the side of her neck, her other arm huddled around her knees. “Then you disappeared. Neither of you ever said anything, but I would talk to you anyway, pretending you could listen.”

They stared at her.

She scoffed. “I know it sounds silly, me talking to myself.”

“Not at all,” Terra said. “Don’t say that again.” His voice quivered, and she expected him to apologize, but he wouldn’t do that in front of Ven - that would upset the boy the most.

Ven fussed in heavy guilt, barely able to look at either at them. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“There’s no reason to feel bad, Ven,” Terra said. “It’s… about time we were open about this.”

Ven nodded to himself, staring at grass. Neither of them had any idea how to move the conversation forward. Should they talk more about it? Should they change the subject? 

Aqua didn’t think she’d ask Terra for more information, just to spare him the agony of remembering it. Knowing Ventus, he probably would never breach the topic again because he cared about them too much.

There were things they’d never forget and perhaps those were conversations they would only have alone.

“I’m…” Ven started, and Aqua’s heart didn’t have the strength to witness his discomfort. “I think I’m going to get chocolate milk or something. Maybe some cookies? Anybody want some?”

Again, he still didn’t look at them. He deserved some homemade cookies.

“Sounds delicious,” Aqua said.

“You always make the best cookies,” Ventus mumbled as he walked past them and up the steps, Chirithy trailing along. Those two were never apart, and sometimes Aqua wondered if her post-darkness existence could never suffice in comparison to the friend he used to have. 

It made her feel awful, even though he never even implied the thought.

“Maybe it will get easier,” Terra said, rubbing his forearm, glancing at the stars where he found no solace.

“You mean talking about it?”

“Sure. Maybe.”

Silence, as quiet as the wind kissing the flowers, as stoney as the stars above them. 

“I’m so sorry,” Terra said. 

“I told you before,” she said, near a whisper, “I don’t blame you, and I don’t regret it.”

“It sounded terrible.”

“Yours did, too.”

“Maybe. You’re so strong, though. You’d be the only one out of any of us to survive it.”

Again, a silence tight enough to burst. 

And Aqua did burst. “I just wish you guys wouldn’t-”

She stood up before she continued, about to walk back to the castle.

“Wouldn’t what?” Terra asked behind her.

“Nothing, I was thinking out loud.”

He stood up as well, following the few steps she took until they were equal. “If I made you uncomfortable at all-”

“No. You didn’t. Don’t worry.” She hugged herself, her hands warming bare shoulders.

Terra frowned, leaning back from her for a second. “Aqua, didn’t we agree not to hide things from each other anymore? To be more honest?”

“It’s not what you think, Terra.”

His eyes whimpered, pleading for her to rest his anxiety and the stars only knew what else he was blaming himself for in his mind. 

Then he scoffed, wiping his cheek with his hand, letting himself smile his thoughts away. “Nevermind, I shouldn’t be asking, all things considered.”

“I just-” she started. 

Terra was so close to her, within a hand’s reach. Yet there was a wall between them, one she built out of bricks made of refusals and assumptions. If she was going to tear it down and let him finally step through, then she needed to commit. So Aqua steeled herself for the demolition.

“It’s not true that I’m strong,” she said, tears already making their entrance.

It shocked him. “You don’t have to be so hard on yourself.”

“Let me finish.” She breathed hard, her heart wrenching and telling her to quit. “I fell, Terra. Darkness overtook me for a moment, before Riku and Sora found me.”

“What?” he gasped, blood leaving his face. He had no idea. She was grateful Riku respected her privacy enough not to gossip. “Aqua, I’m… ugh.” He held her by the arms, rubbing them, nearly about to embrace her but thought better of it. “I’m so sorry,” he choked. 

She couldn’t expect there was anything appropriate to say.

“How did it happen?”

She flinched, and reminded herself that she committed. 

It took some time before she spoke. Terra didn’t press her and he didn’t ask the question again. He only stayed still, waiting for her to talk. 

“Xehanort’s Heartless was there,” she said.

Already, his tears dried up, his eyes widening. The hold on her arms slackened. 

“And he summoned that… thing. The Guardian, I think is what it’s called.” Her voice was steady, detached from her body, like it abandoned her. 

She didn’t need to say anything more, what with the way Terra’s breath thrashed.

He let go of her. 

“That was you?” he rasped.

Then he yelled, stumbling on the steps when he walked backward away from her.

“Terra.” She reached for him.

He recoiled, completely dodging her hands as he picked himself up on his legs and ran right into the castle doors before desperately grasping at their handles. 

“Wait, Terra, it’s fine.”

“How can you say that,” he wailed. “I-”

He stopped, his lips quivering. He tensed when she tried to step closer, keeping his arms within, with grips that strangled the door knob. She almost expected that he was about to punch his way through.

“I hurt you, and there’s no forgiving that.”

He slammed the door in her face, and she dragged it back out to follow him inside. “Please don’t turn your back on me,” she said softly enough that he wouldn’t hear her. “Not again.”

Yet Aqua stopped herself short, watching him storm down the hall until he turned right and disappeared around the corner. What he said pounded in her ears. The way he cried it spoke of damage, of humiliation, of hatred. 

Not for her, he could never hate her. But she knew him too well, and she couldn’t tell her body to stop crying at the thought that he hated himself so much.

“You okay?” Ven asked behind her. He had a plate with neatly stacked cookies in his hands, Chirithy riding his shoulders with both paws dug into his hair. 

She looked away to wipe her eyes with her wrist. 

“Yeah,” she said, then rubbing the excess on her pants. 

“It’s a little late anyway for cookies,” Ven said, his voice the only real presence in this empty entrance hall. “I’ll turn off the lights, no big deal.”

“Ven-”

“Cheers makes a good sleeping buddy if you want.” He looked up, and Chirithy wiggled its snout affectionately, squeaking.

“No, but thank you.” She said. She sounded dead. “I’m fine, really.”

He pouted, but let her slide. “Holler if you need anything?” 

“Okay.” She clasped her hands together. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, Aqua.”

“Yeah.” 

Terra wasn’t in the Master’s office, and the hearth felt cool even though it was lit. Terra wasn’t in the kitchen, drinking tea to soothe himself to sleep. He wasn’t back in the workroom, throwing himself into his crystals to ignore everything around him. Nor was he in the training hall, sparring senseless.

She found him in his bedroom, his door locked. He sobbed, and his howling was muffled, as if he was letting it all go into his arms, rested on his table. 

Aqua’s chest caved into itself at the sound, making it hard for her to breathe. 

She wanted to knock, to tell him that everything was okay. She was fine, she made it out of the Realm of Darkness and the past was the past. She wanted to ask him if he could help her bury it for good. The only thing separating them now was a thin block of wood.

But she did nothing, sneaking away from his door so he wouldn’t hear that she knew. 

She left him hoping and praying to the stars that Terra would tear the darkness out of his heart to throw away in those crystals for good, so they wouldn’t be haunted by it anymore. She wanted him whole.

All that was left for her right now was her own bedroom, and she crept her door open just enough to stick her hand through and turn the light switch on. She peeked with one eye to make certain that her mirror was still covered. 

It was only then that she entered, preparing herself for whatever chaos waited for her in sleep tonight.