#➤ *𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀. ( RIKU ) kh verse

[knightfeared]

∆ HEAL ∆ - sender treats a wound on the receiver’s hand - To Riku from Sora

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑 — 𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 & 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐃 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓. Nostalgic. It was strange to think — jarring almost — how an old dream, one sought for so desperately all those years ago on that Island led to all of this. One that made him wish for a freedom he knew deep down wouldn't be satiated — not to easily, anyways. Big dreams, larger then reality could ever provide, they clouded & stormed, eventually thundering to a chaos that left their little trio separated. Time had passed, trials endured defiantly, followed along, chased through the simple stubborn tether that linked their hearts.

A genuine bond that was cherished close, guiding like a distant star until they found eachother again — things were calm for once. Though still mending, not all things admittedly fixed & settled, that restlessness, the guilt — it began to ebb like the waves on Destiny Island's soothing shores. That was more then enough for him, more then he could have hoped for.

It was the first time in what felt like years where they could finally reconnect, just exist in eachother's company without some other new threat to the worlds rising.

Some new issue in need of a key-blade to fix.

But with the clashing of their blades, each well practiced maneuver feels like an old, well-loved dance they hadn't forgotten as they twist & weave around one another. The scent of the ocean, the sound of the tides & the feel of the wind as it combs through his hair, leaves stray bits of pale to obscure his vision with a quickened whip to the side to counter the cheeky Islander — he can't help it if his own lips quirk skywards. Laughter flits free, draping through the air like familiar melody as they gradually continue their spar, testing new spells little by little in confident trust the other would be fine.

As much as Riku hates to say it, it feels like when they were kids, small hands wielding wooden swords fashioned together out of stray driftwood, tied tight with ropes snagged from fishing boats lining the coastline. Grander visions tinging their sights in dreamy rose as they clashed & clacked blades then in petty battles that feel all too simple with what he knew now.

That slip into his thoughts, it costs him.

Cursing internally, Riku dodges in time, just barely — out of the way of one of the younger's downward slashes. A simple step to the side that costs him as he finds his footing slipping. Too deep in the routine, it's one that's been practiced time & time before, it's hard to stop when confidence guides the hand — Riku acts as fast as he can, calling his key-blade to his other hand, instinctively bracing. He just narrowly avoids getting his face thwacked hard by the kingdom key, but he's not able to avoid injury even with that attempt. He fumbles, stumbling back, hissing loudly with a pained wince as a sharp pain flares through his wrist.

The weak one — it hadn't healed properly . . . figures it'd come back to bite him now. As soon as the other hears the sound, in a bright flourish of light, he calls his blade away, rushing over, hands hovering around Riku, worry creasing tense features as Sora tries to ask if he's okay.

Swallowing, Riku wants to lie & say yes, but that throbbing pain refuses to leave, protective grasp curled tight around his wrist as he moves to steal somewhere to sit for a moment. Sora follows, eyes wide, guilt bleeding from him in heavy waves — Riku casts a glance his way, apologetic, reassuring as he can express, before another wince peeks. Sora settles at his side on the stray log, gently prying his hand from where it rest. His hands are warm, each small movement done with clear care as he studies the wrappings still binding his wrist. There's a huffed sound, disbelief he thinks, prompting a sheepish cough as that same tense silence lingers. But when he feels warmth beginning to pool at the space it hurt the most, followed by the telling light of a spell being cast, Riku turns his attention back, pale brows furrowed, watching as the other tries his best to wordlessly ease the pain.

An explanation was probably expected. Either that or a scolding for trying to fight with an injury without telling him.

He supposes it's only fair . . . So much for a simple spar.

                         @muses-morii​  ╲   SORA.    . ⋆ ✦ ⋆ .   PROMPTED.