Who I really love (Sora x Riku)

Part 8

(Riku's POV)

A week goes by quite slowly, but without many events. Sora clings to me whenever we're at school now so more than ever after the incident last week. He stays so close to me whenever he can, and often he ends up sitting on my lap arms around me. He's grown extremely protective of me and will bite the head off if anyone comes near me without a good reason. He even glares at Kairi and I overheard him on multiple occasions saying things along the line of, "He's mine, don't you dare touch him!" As much as I adore him even more for showing his love so much, it made me worry slightly what he would be like if he knew the whole story of everything my father has done.

Father says little to me in the week gone by and I just obey him for the most part. Today passes as any other until my father stops me upon my entrance home.

"Coping without the abomination of a lover boy?" he asks, under the impression I am too scared and have tied things off with Sora. It was a risk to be near Sora ever because of him but I can't leave him. Breaking his heart which is so fragile would shatter all of him, down to his very soul. Besides, knowing Sora he wouldn't accept it, he knew too well what was going on and that I'd never willingly leave him. He'd be more likely just cling to me even more.

I don't meet my father's eyes as I restrain my emotions and answer without detectable bitterness that is all I am feeling. Nothing good had come of resisting yet and I'm starting to think nothing would. "It's all just as you wish it to be, sir."

He laughs to himself with an air of smugness. "Perhaps you aren't yet entirely unsalvageable, boy." I don't want to fight. I nod and head to my room at a hurried pace. I get half way up the stairs before he yells for me to stop. "Did I say you had permission to leave?"

I stop and turn around. "May I please go to my room?" I mutter with forced politeness. I feel sick; I have to once again stoop so low as to bend my knee for his every word. I am pathetic.

"Hmph. Where have I been for hours each day? At work, to feed your lecherous ass. You don't even know the slightest bit of respect, do you? Get down here, now!"

I tentatively go back down, shaking with nervousness. It had been a week without injury or event and for once I didn't have to lie about my injuries. But nothing good ever last for me. I can't defy him but I tell myself he wasn't going to win.

On the finals step he grabs my arm and twists it around to a point where he could break it like a twig at any moment if he wanted. It hurt but if I moved at all it would be a million times worse.

"This is only justice."

Justice? Justice, if such a thing was real, would see him hit by a bus for the way he treated me and previously my mother. Justice would allow me to hold Sora, my only light, forever in my arms without having being called an abomination and being beaten to a bloody pulp for it. Adrenaline pulses through me and my blood turns to fire. My free hand curls into a fist and before I can think rationally I swing it around to where it connects solidly with his face. As I do so I hear a blood curling snap and even the adrenaline can't completely numb the sudden searing pain. My father had recoiled and let go of me but my movements had cause my shoulder to feel like it was broken. I make a run for my room as my father recovers. I don't make it far before something flies pass me, narrowly avoiding my head. It clangs against the railing and land in front of my feet. It's... it's a gun... I pick it up and look at him for an explanation. What kind of screwed up plot does he intend?

"It's a gift," father says with an angry and evil sneer. What did he mean...? He starts to walk away. With his back turned I feel myself shakily lift the gun to aim at him. From this distance I could probably hit him even with only one hand able to fire it...

No! I wasn't a murderer! But I could shoot now and it'd all be over. He'd be gone. I'd have revenge for everything. Sora... Mother... I'd be proving I'm not helpless, I'm not weak... But I'm not going to stoop lower than him. He has something up his sleeve.

Without even turning around to look, he advises me, "I know where you're aiming that. I'd advise you to not. I'm not alone. Who'd believe you over the people I know and can manipulate? You may not care for yourself, but I know your weakness. Don't think he'd get off safe."

I lower it hesitantly. In the end, I am not a killer and revenge was a trivial thing next to Sora's life. "Why'd you give it to me?"

"It's for you, to be used by you, on yourself. I don't care if you use it or not but like I've told you it's the only way out. Killing yourself." With those cutting words he exits back to the fridge and his alcohol.

Kill myself, huh...? Kill myself... So that's why... I stumble up to my room, the thought clouding my mind. I lock the door and sit on the bed, staring at the gun in my hand, not really seeing it, just feeling the method was so simple and right there. I'd thought and thought about it recently but I guess before I didn't really have a way. Now an easy, quick option was there. I want to throw it away, destroy it, get it away from me, but I also want to keep it in case I need it... and I even to some degree can't help but want to use it now...

Left alone with nothing but the evil thing and my pessimistic thought, I'm soon seeing red, my blood boiling. Anger seethes through me, anger at my father, myself, even Sora and mother at times. But guilt is so swift to replace the feeble anger. This was ultimately my fault, I was weak and a burden at best... Why was I angry at Sora and mother at all? I've let my father and his words and actions too far into my head. Once again the motif was him. Anger returns stronger than before, but again it's swiftly overpowered by guilt. Did I really have a right to be angry?

Anger, guilt... For a millennium it cycled over and over, and I feel lost in a sea of darkness.

The gun fell from my hand to the floor with a crash and I grasped onto reality. My hands and cheeks are wet with tears I hadn't even realised fell while in such darkness. Now that it was out of my hands, I felt calmer. I kicked the stupid weapon across the floor to the other side of the room. It was nothing more than another poisonous ploy by my father. I was playing right into his hands and that made me furious. I attempt to take deep and clear breaths but they only come out ragged. The pure rage wasn't anywhere near gone. Trying to focus, the mere presence of the gun in the corner puts me off. I pick it up and before it could warp my emotions I stow it away in the bottom drawer. I just hoped that "out of sight, out of mind" could be true. I wish I could get rid of it but it would be useful as a last resort.

I soon realise the "out of sight, out of mind" theory wasn't working however; my mind kept wandering back to the stupid weapon. I try and try to focus on it but my father's malicious intent, my guilt and pain, everything kept linking back to it. To try and ease it from my mind I make a promise to myself – if even so much as a hair on Sora's head was harmed because of me, it was all over. If I kill myself now I was submitting to my father's will, but if Sora got hurt then I will have lost anyway. My only real goal and purpose I felt at the moment was to keep him out of this and protect him from everything. I'm not gonna fail him, but if I do, at least I'll be out of the picture and nobody will have to get hurt because of me again.

Tired and beginning to calm down after making that promise to myself, I collapse on my bed with a weird numb feeling, like a strange absence of emotions. Maybe there was just too much. With the adrenaline absent now and nothing to distract me, my arm that I'd forgotten was even injured started to feel like it was being blown up. I'm not sure if it was broken but it sure as hell hurt. I stare at the ceiling, the agony being the only thing tethering me to this world. But I'd rather feel that pain than nothing at all, because in the end I was still enduring, still here and that was proof.