Chapter Text
How many times has he been here now?
“Xehanort!”
The youngest Xehanort looked at Sora across the way, in the empty street of a city that was too quiet. Sora was always the same, nothing he could do would change that.
He knew what he was 'supposed’ to say, but he was… tired. It wasn't like he wouldn't be back here…
“Your friends may be your power, but they are also your greatest weakness…” he said dryly.
“What's that supposed to mean!?”
“Once again following your heart has lead to your demise. If you try to save them all this time, there will be nothing of you left.” The words were different, but in the end the sentiment was the same. Fate had sunk it's claws in deep, it was pointless to try and change anything substantial.
“Well what do you know! Maybe if you were so caught up in 'the darkness of being alone’ you'd know what I was like to want to help a friend!”
“Oh, but I do know.”
Sora jumped, looking both taken aback and confused. Xehanort regretted the bitter honestly, but in the end it wouldn't matter anyway, so…
Before Sora was able to find his voice Xehanort explained. “A man whose words are famous on many worlds once said 'it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.’ I disagree.”
Oh, did he disagree. How cruel was it to be given a taste of something he knew wouldn't last, to watch it all fall apart. No matter how sweet Eraqus’ promises were and would be when he returned to his own time, he would know deep down in his heart it wasn't meant to be.
“If only that I were to have such an easy scapegoat for the blame as you.”
He had no one to blame but himself after all.
In the end Sora would always have the machine to rage against- an outside force to blame for tearing him and his friends apart. Xehanort seemed to push people away just by being. The heroes no doubt assumed the desperation for something like Kingdom Hearts is what had lead to the isolation, but they had reversed the cause and effect.
Even if it was something small, his ideals, his philosophy, the things he believed in, they were all just that little bit too different from the norm. No one would agree, no one thought the way he did. Even if he found someone willing to listen, willing to just humor him, like Eraqus, it wouldn't last…
Did people really expect him to just go through life like that, knowing if he was ever truly honest about his beliefs the people he cared about would leave him, and not become a villain?
Not all of his beliefs were as radical or extreme as Kingdom Hearts. Maybe if just one person had willing to really agree the darkness wasn't all bad… and now the fact someone like Riku even existed was a mockery of all the suffering he had and would endure up until this point. One might dare to hope that such a change would mean someone like him would finally have a place, have someone to talk to, have someone who would actually listen to him for once, but…
“...it's too late.”
He had already turned his back to Sora, he didn't see the pained expression that flit across the boy’s face.
***
“Your time in this world is over, Sora.”
Xehanort awoke on the floor of a violet sea. No matter how many times he had been to this place it would always be strange. It was as if the colours had been inverted- black clouds floating across a sickening red and purple sky. It was all mirrored perfectly by the still, unfaltering water. He did not know if it was simply a thin layer of liquid or a vast depth upon which he could somehow tread.
But he was certain the version of this place Sora had visited was much more pleasant.
“Ready to go again?”
Xehanort tilted his head back at the now familiar voice, the small purple cat coming into view faster than expected. He should have known better, the thing enjoyed looking…
“...Just a moment…” he answered, his eyes falling shut as he tried to bask in the stillness of this place. He was so tired…
“Sorry, you've got work to do.” The small nightmare replied. Xehanort sighed.
Once more, then...
***
Sora was too bright. He was an enigmatic creature that honestly baffled Xehanort. His smile alone shone so intensely that he was certain he would be burned if he got too close, and yet he himself had been the one to drag him down to the depths…
Was that light finally beginning to fade…?
He'd watched him for so long, so many times, watching the depression and despair bear down on Sora's heart. Sora's darkness had always been something vast and deep, his strength came from the uncanny ability to constantly just barely out run it. But it seemed as though it was finally starting to catch up.
Should he be happy?
Was it a victory?
It wasn't like they could use him as a vessel now… perhaps next time it would carry over early enough that they could…
It would be nice to talk to him as something other than an enemy.
But if that happened, he doubted he would smile like that any more…
“So what, you’re worried about me now!?”
How many times have they had this conversation?
How many times would he have to watch Sora break himself down…
“Yes.” Sora wouldn't remember, but he thought he deserved to tell him at least once.
Sora reared back in shock. “W-wait, what!?”
“What do you think either side has to gain from you dying in a place like this?” No, that wasn't exactly right. “How dare you have the audacity to throw yourself into the abyss here. If you were going to fall to darkness, you could have at least had the decency to do so with the rest of us.”
“I'm not throwing myself into the abyss!” Sora snapped back.
Xehanort's lips pressed into a thin line. Why had he expected anything short of Sora petulantly lashing out at him? Slowly he smirked.
“You already have.”
“What?”
“...Goodbye, Sora.”
“Wait-”
But Sora's protests would go unheard, Xehanort already disappeared into the corridor.
***
Xehanort fell to his knees, the darkness fading off of him in whisps as the signal of his defeat. He was calm and composed; the repetition had not yet quite worn on him like it eventually would.
“Xehanort…” Sora still sounded confused, his expression strained.
Xehanort smirked tiredly, looking up at the boy as he was addressed. “I am sorry if you were expecting something insightful. I don't have any sorts of waxing poetics as the others did.”
Sora looked taken aback, but after he just looked… sad. “I guess I'm just… also worried, even if I shouldn't be...” He said finally.
That actually caught Xehanort off guard, the shock showing even if for only a moment. That, he supposed, was what he had expected- had been hoping for- before… a tired smile managed to form. “I will go back to the beginning.” He reassured, even if it wasn't really something reassuring. More seriously he added “...you should be worried about yourself, Sora…”
And with that, he faded.
***
Xehanort had become attached to Sora. This was because he was the only constant in the repeating loop they had found themselves in… or perhaps more accurately the only non constant.
He was certain Sora was the same as him.
Even if Sora didn't retain his memories of the previous iterations Xehanort could see what the power of waking really was, how even Sora himself did not even realize it was being abused. He knew each loop it was the same Sora, because even if those memories were lost and buried Sora would always be the only one who acted different. Who would change the pattern. Of course, those changes would ripple out, and eventually the actions of others would change as per the rules of the butterfly effect, but they would always start with Sora.
It was like their own private hell.
Perhaps he should blame Sora for being stuck here, hate the boy even, but it would be too hypocritical. The strain on Time was just as much his fault as Sora’s after all.
“You're getting sloppy.”
Xehanort did not move from the floor of the darker Final World as he addressed the small nightmare. “I have to do something to entertain myself. Else I lose even more sanity…” he joked dryly.
The chirithy huffed. “At this rate the one that sticks will be far from ideal, you know. What would you have done if it had been this time?”
Xehanort hummed quietly. Perhaps if this had been the last loop he would have been granted a chance to sit down and talk to Sora, but then again… he wasn't sure he would be able to handle it now, the idea of only having one chance to say something had become so foreign…
He wanted to go back to Eraqus, back to happier, simpler days, but even that wasn't something he could 'go back’ to. The memories and knowledge of his dearest friend’s murder at his own hands was already etched into his heart. Not even someone like Naminé could take it away now, it would always haunt them…
He was so tired…
“You can't rest yet.”
Xehanort opened his eyes, not even having realized he had closed them.
Once more.
***
“All that galavanting through the sleeping world's, and yet you learned nothing.”
Sora opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated. He couldn't put his finger on why, but something… wasn't right.
“It's… not that I didn't learn. I know it's reckless, but… I still have to save my friends.” Sora explained, sounding more like he was explaining it to himself than to the boy standing across from him. He raised his gaze from the ground to look at Xehanort with determination. “And you understand that right? You had friends too! No one is completely alone…”
Xehanort's mouth was left hanging just slightly agape. Sora had… actually remembered. Not consciously, but Sora being Sora was still able to respond to those shattered threads in his heart, despite not being able to truly comprehend them at all…
“You're right.” He agreed simply. He chanced walking closer than he had before, and while Sora remained guarded he didn't draw his weapon.
“...but Sora, you're being selfish.”
“What!?” Sora sputtered, clearly taking offense.
Xehanort shook his head and continued. “You are doing this because you could not bare the thought of going on without them. Do you really think they will want to have to go on without you?”
The understanding dawned in Sora's eyes as he looked down guiltily. Suddenly the situation felt like some unsolvable puzzle, like no matter what they did they would lose something. His fists tightened by his sides and he looked up at Xehanort with determination. “Then I'll just have to be sure I make it out too!”
The expression Xehanort turned to Sora might have been described as pity from an onlooker, but it was something far more sincere than that. Sora had far less control of the situation than he was willing to admit- he'd already paid the price for saving his friends, he wouldn't be 'making it out’ of anything… though he wasn't foolish enough to assume this was due to Sora's ignorance, no, he would give Sora more credit than that, because…
“You and I have far more in common than I am sure either of us would care to admit.” He said with a small bitter smile. Sora looked at him confused but honestly intrigued- surprisingly not looking offended by being compared to someone like Xehanort at all, “Bottling up your emotions and putting on a front. A determination that to others may be mistaken for optimism, but you and I both know better than that. Our stubbornness is routed in self delusion and the inability to let go.”
Sora just looked... sad. He asked a question he already knew the answer to. “If you know that, then why are you still doing all this?”
“Why are you?” Xehanort parroted with a shrug.
Sora didn't answer, realizing that that argument was pointless. Instead he asked “Were you not able to save your friends?” Sora knew Xehanort's motivations were more complicated and less sympathetic than this, but if he could simplify it down to something he could empathize with, then maybe…
Xehanort hesitated, but found himself compelled to answer honestly. “...everything bad that happened to him, in the end… was all my own fault.” There was far more there if Sora chose to read between the lines, but Xehanort was counting on the fact he knew Sora wouldn't.
Sora found himself able to understand that all too well. Surely if he had been stronger, none of his friends would have been hurt in the first place… it wasn't as similar to Xehanort's situation as he was letting himself believe, but the depression and despair had latched onto the idea, using it to drag him down. Without realizing it, Sora began to cry. Not the screaming sob he had before in the badlands, only quiet sniffles as the tears streaked down his face.
Xehanort's heart hurt at the sight. It was a strange feeling, not born out of something as pragmatic as empathy for Sora's tears, but the twisted comfort at the idea Sora might have been crying for him. Without thinking he reached out to wipe the tears away.
Sora started, jumping back and half falling into a defensive stance. In the end, Xehanort was still the enemy, it seemed.
Xehanort curled the hand that had been left hanging awkwardly in the air over his heart. Just like that the illusion had been shattered. Sora may have stopped to listen this one time, but it didn't change anything- as soon as they left this world they would both return to a fight to the death. Just what had he been hoping to accomplish…?
Nothing, he supposed. In a world with no real future or past, what choice did he have but to live in the moment? Nothing he did would have a lasting effect, the only point in doing anything would be for the sake of the experience itself.
His hand tightened over his heart. “I am glad I was able to speak candidly with you, Sora, even if only once.” With that he turned to leave.
“Wait!”
This time Xehanort did, pausing in front of the dark corridor and looking at Sora over his shoulder.
Sora floundered for words, having very much not thought this far ahead. Finally he said. “...me too.”
Xehanort smiled.
***
Xehanort awoke in the final world this time with a small smile. He and Sora had still had to fight as always, but he decided he wouldn't let that take away what had honestly been the first nice thing to happen to him in a very long time. It had been bittersweet, but it was certainly better than the same draining repetition…
“That was way out of line.” Chirithy scolded. But Xehanort seemed fairly unfazed.
“I'm sure.”
The cat sighed. “It's pointless.”
Xehanort hummed in agreement. “It is. As is everything else. And if everything is equally pointless, then there is no reason not to do things simply for the sake of doing them.” He argued.
“Do you really believe that, or are you holding out hope because he remembered even if it was just a little? You shouldn't set yourself up for failure…”
Xehanort's smile fell at that. Was he…? Rationalizing his subconscious desires was most certainly a habit he had, and one he would apparently never really grow out of. His mind told him rather definitively that no matter what threads Sora managed to cling to Sora would not truly remember anything. That Sora was the hero, and no matter how many strays Sora's bleeding heart adopted, Xehanort was the inarguable villain of the story and could never be offered the same second chances as people like Lea.
But his heart hadn't heard that, had it? His heart was bruised and battered and so very tired of being alone. He wanted so desperately for a friend. Just one. Another person who could validate him, someone who could fill the inky void left by Eraqus…
There was a time he had nothing but love in his heart for Eraqus. He still loved him, he was certain he always would, but it wasn't 'nothing but’ anymore. Things had become… stressed, just before he had left for this time. Eraqus had been speaking out against the darkness more often as of late- frequent broad sweeping statements about a force Xehanort knew the boy had never really encountered before, not in a meaningful way. Xehanort never said anything, he didn't know what he possibly could say… he had so much darkness in him, even before encountering any version of him from the future. It never hindered him and never really would, not in the traditional sense. Preachings warned of a force that would control a person, rob them of clear thought. He had seen darkness drive people to madness, but not himself. The eldest version of himself operated under and obsessive determination, but that wasn't darkness, or it was, but it was powered by it, it wasn’t… some phantasmal madness, or some sign of spiritual defectiveness…
The teachings they had learned in Scala ad Caelum had been so alienating. There were so many blurred lines… darkness was a tangible, scientific force that existed and created things like heartless, but it was also some spiritual measure of a person's worth. If you have darkness in you, you are unworthy, unclean. But darkness is made up of hardship and negativity, emotions that a person cannot truly go through life without feeling at least once. If one experiences loss, they will feel sorrow. Too much sorrow, and you have 'succumbed to darkness’. How was that fair? If an outside force harms a person, it is their own fault for being hurt? He never understood…
The idea that only a person who miraculously did not feel ugly, inconvenient emotions was worthy was absurd, especially given the nature of their duty. They were expected to fight, to be soldiers. He thought the idea of a keyblade wielder who was not allowed to truly empathize with the hardships of the people they protected was far less worthy than one who might feel anger and sorrow on the behalf of the civilians they fought for.
He understood the ideal, but in practice things were taken to an extreme. Like any institution, such preachings were abused to control the masses. Light was good, it was better to be happy than to be sad, it was better to try and move on than wallow, anyone would agree with that. But that sentiment was mixed and muddied with so many more dangerous thoughts and accusations. Anyone who spoke out against them was accused of being corrupt. If, or rather when, Xehanort would one day voice his concerns he would be made a pariah. After all, having doubt was the same as having darkness.
It was a catch 22, designed to prevent anything from ever changing, designed to force everyone into one, singular school of thought. A self fulfilling prophecy, in which the moment one worried about the darkness within it would create that darkness...
Xehanort had honestly wished he could conform. Everything would be so much easier- he and Eraqus would be happy, there would be no reason for the other boy to ever be weary of him, no reason for them to ever fight or disagree…
But Xehanort could not simply change who he was.
Or what he was.
He had tried, at first. He had tried so hard. Even after the reassurance and guidance from his future heartless as he set out from his Islands, even after seeing the darkness himself on the short journey before he had arrived in the strange and beautiful world that was Scala ad Caelum, he had been willing to throw that all away for the sake of what he was being offered. A new home that didn't feel like a cage, a freedom he'd only dreamed of, a real and honest companionship… it had been literally too good to be true.
That darkness was a part of him- he had already spent far too much of his life lonely and depressed. It defined him, it was part of his identity, he could not change it just as he could not change where he had been born. Yes, he had wanted to leave the islands and did, but he spent his childhood there, those years wouldn't change, they shaped his experiences going forward. Both fond memories of ocean breezes and the painful ones of schoolyard bullies made him who he was, changed how he reacted to the world now… it wasn't different he supposed, if the people of Scala had asked him to never talk of his island or being and islander ever again. If he had tried hard enough he probably could have- he imagined that a much easier feat than exercising himself of the darkness given his lingering disdain for him home- but it wasn't something he should have been asked to do regardless… after all, there were many wielders who hailed from other world's there who had been proud of their heritage. Surely they would have found this as hard to grasp as Xehanort himself…
So slowly, as Xehanort spent years beside Eraqus on this new world, he realized that he couldn't just force himself to change. No matter how much he wanted to give up that piece of him for his own and Eraqus’ happiness… he couldn't. He wasn't strong enough.
Maybe that did make him unworthy… but he didn't think so.
If anything, being true to oneself should be rewarded, shouldn't it? A person so quick to change to please others did not resonate as 'strong of heart’ to Xehanort, but he would be a 'disgraced master’ who had 'fallen to darkness’ so what did he know?
Was it then hypocritical to ask Eraqus to change…?
But he didn't think it was the same, because those ideals, the teachings of Scala ad Caelum, were something thrust upon Eraqus, not a conclusion he had come to himself, not something that defined him. Or at least, it wasn't when he had last seen him…
Just before he had been swept away to this time he had been working up the courage to talk to Eraqus. A healthy relationship was built on compromises- surely they could find a middle ground? Xehanort could not change that he had darkness, but perhaps there was something smaller, something more accessible he could do. He had been assuring himself that Eraqus would not be so harsh if he knew, that Eraqus would listen to reason- he knew Eraqus wouldn't just abandon those teachings (he could hope and dream, but he knew it wasn't more than that), but… he loved and trusted Eraqus, and Eraqus had supposedly loved him. If they both took the time to listen to the other whatever compromise they made would surely be something even better than what they both had individually thought before…?
Xehanort had once been nearly as optimistic as Sora, in his own way. Before he had seen the future he had had so much hope things would work out, that he could make a positive change in the World…
But now he knew for a fact no matter what he told Eraqus, the boy wouldn't budge. They would never come to an understanding, and would continue to fight for decades. He would still try, because that was what he was destined to do, and it would fail. The two would stubbornly flit in and out of each other's lives until finally he would strike Eraqus down.
If someone had told him Eraqus would die by his hand a few years ago he would have thrown them into the bay. It had seemed like something so impossible, but now…
There was no happy ending waiting for him when he returned to his time. All he was left with was the hole in his heart left where too many daydreams and plans for a happy life with Eraqus had once been. That hole had filled itself with a vast darkness, and that darkness had become a great strength. The cycle continued…
The one thing he wanted now, more than anything, was someone who would accept him as he was- darkness and all. He wasn't afraid of losing the strength the pain of loss and loneliness had brought him- on the contrary, it seemed the hopeless longing only refined it further. And if he did find someone that strength wouldn't just go away. It was as he had said, the darkness was apart of him, it wasn't a feeling he would unfeel or suddenly forget how to understand…
And somehow he had begun to pin those hopes on Sora.
Perhaps it was the stocholme like nature of being trapped in this cycle with him. It certainly had some influence, but it wasn't the only or even greatest factor… no, the greatest factor was something bizarre and seemingly unrelated- Riku.
He had never been so jealous of another person in his entire life (and from what he understood never would be again.)
Not because of Sora's obvious infatuation with the boy, Xehanort had far bigger problems to lament than to waste effort on something so base. No, it was because Riku had somehow gotten everything he had ever wanted. He was the 'dark hero’, the boy who fell into the abyss and was still loved and adored by all. The person for whom the World finally acknowledged that 'darkness wasn't all bad’, completely indifferent to the fact Xehanort had been pointing this out for decades.
Riku was a keyblade master despite still being doubled in darkness. He was honestly glad the World had finally learned and moved forward, leaving behind the toxic teachings of Scala, but it burned him to see someone else gets everything he had ever wanted while he was still left by the wayside. The hypocrisy of it all drove him mad. The fact that Riku still apologized for himself and his darkness infuriated him.
Maybe it was the simple fact that while it was all a step in the right direction it just wasn't enough. One boy being forgiven for his darkness was not the same as him being accepted for it…
But he was still jealous.
Because there was at least one person who accepted that darkness, not forgave it.
And that was Sora.