through the sands of destiny, hope lies on crumbling stardust
Sora wasn’t sure where he was.
He knows he’s on a beach somewhere, but it doesn’t appear to be the one from Destiny Islands. It was too different, too quiet, too lonely to be the same beach from his home.
Still, the rolling of the waves brought about a calm in his heart, lulling him into a false sense of peace, so for the moment, Sora didn't really care where he was.
After all, it had been so long since he’d felt this ill at ease.
He flexed his hands in the sand, wondering why they seemed smaller than before. He turned them over, wondering if he had just imagined all the callouses that formed from carrying such heavy weapons.
...had he been carrying a weapon? Weren’t weapons harmful?
Gently, Sora shook the thoughts from his head, figuring that he could sort them out later. Besides, he thought, I have to keep on fixing the castle.
The sand castle was small and crumbled down, many parts already nothing more than shapeless heaps of sand. Still, Sora felt that he couldn’t give up on the little castle, with all its crumbling towers and faceless hills, even if it seemed hopeless.
So he kept on, trying and trying to save what he could. He couldn’t give up on it now.
Not now, not ever. Because then, no one would need me anymore.
He paused. “Why…” he tried to swallow around the lump in his throat, a sudden swell of anxiety knotting in his chest. His hands grabbed at his heart, the sounds of the waves now loud and harsh, and Sora found himself gasping for breath.
A quiet voice broke through the haze of unease. “It appears that you are trying to save everyone again.”
Sora blinked away the blurriness that had begun to cloud his vision, and looked up, confused as an old man knelt down on the other side of the castle.
“I… I am?”
The old man stared at him sadly. “It would seem so.” He lifted a hand and placed it gingerly on top of the castle. “You are so accustomed to helping others, that it is but a second nature to you at this point.” He closed his eyes. “You should think of yourself sometimes.”
Sora turned his attention back to the castle, his hands still shaking. I’m not worth saving, he wanted to say. I’m not worth anything. Without everyone else, without anyone else here, I’m—
Instead, Sora said quietly, “It’s not bad to help others out.” He tried to still the tremor that had begun to bleed into his voice. “It’s not bad to help them out when they need it.”
The old man was quiet, and Sora willed himself not to cry.
After a moment’s pause, the old man responded. “I see. But,” he steadied one of the falling towers, his voice gentle, “If you spend so much time giving a little piece of yourself to help everyone else, soon enough, there will be no pieces left to help yourself.”
“I know,” Sora answered truthfully. I’m okay with that , he thought to himself.
The man pulled his hand back. “Sora.”
“...yeah?”
The old man smiled faintly at him, and in the setting sun, it looked as if he was glowing. “It is unfair of me to ask but… I wish that, in the end, when all is well and done, you will find it in your heart to forgive me for my sins.”
The tremors stopped, and Sora smiled genuinely at the mourning ghost of the old man. “I already have.”
The old man blinked, and then he laughed, as if he was expecting that sort of answer from him. “I fear that you may love people a little too much, Sora.”
Sora watched as he disappeared into light, his presence no longer lingering on the quiet beach shore.
“Yeah,” Sora said quietly to himself, his hands moving to fix the castle that had begun to crumble again, “Maybe I do.”
“Is there even a point to this madness?”
The young man leveled Sora with a glare when his hand was swatted away from the castle. In turn, Sora ignored him, his focus on one tower in particular that wouldn’t set no matter what he did. He heard a sigh, and then the young man was setting the tower for him, muttering under his breath about spoiled brats and what not.
Once the tower was set, the young man questioned him again, a little less condescending this time. “Well?”
For a moment, Sora thinks. And thinks and thinks and thinks.
Then, finally, “Does there have to be a point?”
The young man doesn’t seem too pleased with his answer. Nonetheless, he held his chin in thought as he studied Sora. “No, I guess there doesn’t have to be. But,” he laughed harshly, “In the end, it’s all for naught.”
Sora tilted his head, a frown in place. “How can you be so sure?”
He watched as the man grabbed a handful of sand, the fine grains slipping easily through his grasp.
“Because,” the young man said distantly, “In the end, all things must return to the dark.”
A part of Sora wanted to argue back, to tell the young man that he was wrong, that darkness was not the beginning and end of all—
—but, he can’t.
(He was exhausted. Destroy and save—over and over again. How could he argue with the young man, when he was always running around trying to save things from falling to darkness and destroy those that were created from it? Over and over again?
He can’t.
He’s too tired.)
“And yet,” the young man mused, ”With you, things… appear differently. Sometimes, they are born from the darkness and end in light. Other times, they’ve fallen from light’s grace into the dark, but they do not end in ruin.”
Sora’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m… sorry but, you’ve kinda lost me.”
The young man rolled his eyes, and Sora felt tempted to stick his tongue out in retaliation.
“Imagine how I feel when your insistent meddling throws out so many years of my work with your nonsensical love for people.”
“I’m… sorry?”
“As you should be.” The man stared out toward the sea, his gaze distant. “I don’t understand how you can be like that.” He turned back to Sora, leveling him down with a curious stare. “Why do you love people so much? They burden you with such tasks—” he motioned at the castle “—and yet, you continue to help them. Why is that, Sora?”
Sora paused, the anxiousness from before resurfacing.
He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat as he answered quietly, “I… I don’t know. I guess I just do.”
(But, he does know.
Because without people, I’m nothing.)
Sora knows that the young man doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t press on the issue. Instead, the two sit in silence, their gazes distant as they look at a sight that only they could see.
He’s tired. He doesn’t want to build the castle anymore.
But, Sora knows that he can’t stop, because if he does, then the questions would begin to eat away at his mind.
“Do you ever want to forget?”
Sora pressed his hands into the sand, scooping it into a bucket near him.
“Do you ever want to start over?”
He turned the bucket upside down near an emptier side of the castle.
“Is it painful to bear so much?”
There was a weight in his heart, and no matter how much Sora wanted to scratch it out, he knows that he can’t. Not while the questions plague him, and not while everyone was counting on him.
“You cannot save everyone.”
Sora bit his lip to stop it from quivering, willing himself to focus on shaping the new castle tower.
“You cannot save everyone.”
“You cannot.”
“You cannot.”
His hands were trembling, and his vision began to swim.
“Why not give up? Don’t you want to?”
A choked sob escaped him, and finally, Sora answered back to the dark.
“Sometimes,” he cried out softly, unshed tears burning in his eyes. He sat back, the ache in his chest all the more prominent as he voiced out his thoughts. “Sometimes, I want to give up so badly. I… can’t do anything without anyone and yet… Everyone expects me to save them. What if… What if I mess up?”
He remembered his journey and all the heartache that it had brought. He had only sought to bring back his friends and yet…
He remembered them. The people who had longed for something that he couldn’t give them as they cursed him with their last breaths, his keyblade laying their existences to rest.
(If he couldn’t save them, then why did he even think that he had a chance of saving anyone else?)
“It’s natural to want to give up.”
Sora stood. He spared one last glance to the castle and he couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him.
“After all…”
He whispered a quiet, “Sorry,” to the castle. To the people he would eventually let down. And then, he took off along the beach shores with no destination in mind.
“...a false hero can only do so much.”
He knew her.
The girl sitting alone at the beach shore, Sora knew her.
He wasn’t sure how he knew her, or where he had met her, but Sora felt a familiarness to the girl, so he walked over to her, wondering if she was lost just like him.
Once he was next to her, Sora realized that there was a castle near her, one that appeared even more worn down then the one that he had abandoned.
He wondered how long it had been in that state, barely clinging on to a shape of its former self, so he turned to her and asked, “Did you get tired?”
Slowly, the girl turned to him, her eyes distant. She was quiet for a while. And then, “I guess I did.”
She reached forward and the sand crumbled beneath her touch, drawing out a hollow laugh from her. Sora could only watch, wondering if he could help her.
“I couldn’t save them,” she began quietly. “I promised my master… all my friends, that I would save them and yet… “ She laughed again, a bit more bitter this time. “I couldn’t do it. Some friend… some master I am.”
As she lamented her failures, Sora couldn’t help but think that the girl reminded him of Riku in a way, who had carried on so much burden for everyone else.
And, maybe it was because of that that Sora reached for the girl’s hand, holding it firmly in his. When she looked at him, really looked at him , Sora tried his best to give her a cheerful smile.
“I’m sure your friends don’t think you failed them!” He let go of her hand and moved toward the castle. “Here, I can help you if you want.”
(He remembered the old man’s words, and Sora couldn't help but laugh.
Even if it means my ruin, I still want to help people out. Hero or not.)
Her eyes widened, face clearly showing her shock. “Oh,” she whispered, “Oh, please. If… if you don’t mind.” She moved closer to him and the castle, her hands trembling. “Would… you mind telling me your name?”
He smiled, glad that the girl was being more responsive now. “I’m Sora.”
“...Sora?” her voice sounded so fragile, Sora was scared that the wind would break it. He looked at her curiously, wondering why another pained expression had made its way onto her face.
“Um, yeah,” he laughed nervously. “That’s me.”
With a trembling hand, she reached forward to cup his cheek. He was taken aback by how cold it was, but before he could pull back, the girl pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly.
“Oh, Sora,” she sobbed into his hair, her body shaking, “I’m… so sorry, Sora. I never wanted you to live this life.”
(Ah, he remembered now.
Remembered how he knew the girl.)
Sora hugged her back, his hands grabbing at her clothes.
“I…” his words died in his throat, tears now falling freely, staining the girl’s shirt. “I’m sorry… I… couldn’t help them off the dark paths. I’m—”
“It’s okay,” she said gently in between her own sobs, rubbing comforting circles on his back. “It’s okay, Sora.”
(But it wasn’t.
He didn’t want to give in to the darkness, didn’t want to hold the responsibility of being the ultimate judge and deciding whose life was worth living and whose wasn’t—
—it was hard. Being a hero. Being a guardian of light. It was so hard, and Sora was tired.)
Instead of voicing his thoughts, Sora cried his heart out in the arms of the girl who had a similar fate to his. A small part of him wished and wished that one day, everything would be okay.
(And even if it wasn’t, he would do everything in his power to at least save the girl.
Because even if he fell to ruin, fell to the darkness and never returned, it would be okay.
Because without people, I am nothing. So even if there’s nothing left to save myself with, it’ll be okay. In the end, my light isn’t the one that’s important.)