He sighed at the same observation only being repeated, but it was small, brief, almost as an elongated exhale that otherwise would be brushed off as casual behavior. He really had picked a difficult topic to bounce off of, considering that the Peristylium did have sports: lacrosse, javelin throwing, etc., but that they were rarely events anymore due to the spontaneous nature that came with war. Plus, his own disinterest in the topic aside… and hadn’t he mentioned this before to somebody? He felt like he had.
Then again, deja vu was a terribly common phenomena with him as of late. Every time he walked down these identical halls, different only by the articles on display, he sighed with the same realization. He’d done something before. Sometimes, it got stronger, and his head just knew he’d repeated this scenario before.
He was just that way. Memory broken and faulty He’d been that way since the day he woke up Alone in that field.
Ah, he was getting off topic.
Briefly, he reached a light fist out and nudged the girl’s shoulder to shake her out of her current little daze. He hadn’t the faintest idea of what she was thinking about, probably what sports could be played in this world, he would assume for now, but he did figure she probably needed to be on her way. After all, his little princess was never one to sit in one place for very long, unless she was drawing and taking in the sights. His room was not such a landmark, though, and she was without a pencil, much less a sketchpad.
“Hard to say. The Peristylium isn’t normal.“ Such an understatement, he realized as he spoke. Especially now, with the war. It definitely didn’t seem like a school as much as it seemed like a military academy. His head tilted to the side and he gave a semblance of a smile, though it was stolen from his face as he quickly realized that something was out of place.
It was quiet. The dorms were usually quiet, if not out of respect for the people who had to actually study in their rooms, but it wasn’t a normal silence, either. He’d felt this silence a few times, and it always made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. With a few steps towards the door, he just barely touched the knob, aware of its chilled metal before he flinched back. His back straightened, and for a moment, his gaze traveled down to the floor, aware of the problem.
“Deja vu is quite the conundrum, isn’t it, Sora?” Ace’s voice fell low, though it simply caressed that name, as odd as it was for him to say at a time like this. A few more steps back invited the little pests into his small abode, and with a heavy sigh and a split decision, his first instinct told him to break the window.
Behind that door would lay a darkness he’d only fall into.
Sora wouldn’t like that. He’d promised, after all.
Somehow, he’d maintained his cool, but inside, his heart was beating a little too fast and his nerves were wracking his brain. Save her first, was obviously his concern, but what of himself? In order to get her out… he would most likely get overwhelmed at some point. It wasn’t like before. There was nobody to watch his back. Control, he reminded himself. At least if something happened here, there would be somebody to tell that keybearer that at least he’d fought to the end.
”Get back.“ In elegant form, his arms extended and guided his hands, which danced in response to the power that always surged in his veins. Cards, each staggered an even distance, heeded his call and flew from his pouch as they were each breathed life into, energy, and with just a ball-point turn on his foot, movements that looked more like a dance than of a battle, the slivers of color shot forward and caused the glass to shatter, his ears to ring as it all clattered to the floor, and for his breathing to all but stop for that split second. ”Grab Chirifuda and run. I’ll hold themoff.”
She was the one who needed to get out alive.
Many unaware people liked to think that darkness was something abrupt that happened out of nowhere, that could catch them off guard and swallow them whole before they have even a moment to comprehend what is happening. And that is probably what it is like, for those who have never experienced darkness before, who have never been near its inky blackness that could destroy every part of them and only leave a hollow shell and little else to be seen. Darkness was both warm and cold all at once, a conundrum and something to doubtlessly fear, and it was not an abrupt thing.
Darkness crept. It inched closer and closer and was never suddenly there, but rather lurking in the corners, around the edges, and for a being like her, a being whom did not have a heart to store light within, a being who could traverse the darkness without being harmed by it—it was easy for her to tell when darkness was coming. When shadows were creeping closer and closer, when Heartless were nearby, yet in that moment she had only caught it well after it was too late, too distracted by speaking and explaining things that, really, neither of them were interested in.
How stupid indeed it was of her to lose track of things, to let such a thing slip her mind and she could sense the darkness, could feel the way that it could be caressing her skin and it made her shiver and tremble and she realized, belatedly, that Ace still did not know what she was. Never before had she told him of her true nature, of the fact that she was as heartless as the creatures waiting for the perfect moment to attack, and she whirled towards him as he spoke lowly. Eyes widened when he uttered a name she was so familiar with and she twitched, fidgeted, looked around and wondered how reckless it would be to force Ace out of the window, into somewhere safer.
In darkness she would not fall, but the Heartless could get her.
And she was willing to risk that.
Chest constricting she watched as he summoned his cards, and she was deeply amused when she realized that she had never seen him use them before, not since the first time they met when he was trying to light their way. Behind her the window’s glass shattered and she barely flinched at the sound, instead simply glancing back at it before looking at the blond once more, and it was not the fact that creatures were looming to destroy them or that darkness was at the door that made her panic. But rather, it was his insistence that she leave, that she move and get out of there, and she knew that he intended for her to leave without him.
As if she could.
Mouth turning downwards into a trembling frown she shook her head, though he could not see her, and stepped forwards, grabbing onto the back of his jacket and tugging at it as she picked up a ruffled Chirifuda because she could at least do that much. But that didn’t mean that she was going to leave, not without Ace—she would place the baby chocobo outside if she must, but her body wasn’t leaving that room without him. Not unless he bodily forced her out of the window, which she wouldn’t actually put past him, but determination was etched into her features in that moment.
”I’m not leaving without you.” Conviction was in her voice, a kind of conviction that she had not felt for a long time, had not heard projected in her tone for so long. The idea of leaving Ace behind was unacceptable, even if that would be the smartest plan of action, even if it would give him a better chance of survival—because she could not bear the thought, bear the potential guilt of getting out alive and leaving Ace to drown in darkness. Not when she could survive in it.
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