[ there are memories--blank ones, ones that can't quite be placed, of being here and holding someone and muttering truths that he should be muttering to him now. that's why, for a moment, he shuts his eyes and places his hand against his head with a light wince. there's nothing wrong about them, it's just like something's been erased, even if they feel perfectly fine and natural and...
it's unnatural how natural they feel.
at first, he just wants to say 'because I could'.
that's the best answer to spare Roxas the facts--bitter facts, and his own regret. it's so much easier to paint fantasy, paint himself as a villain and force Roxas to hate him. it's much easier than forcing his hand into sketching the real picture of external forces where no one really could stop anything, where Riku, like Roxas, was played and had no choice in the matter. he doesn't want to have to tell Roxas that there was really no use.
but Roxas deserves all the truth, doesn't he? after all the pain he's gone through, after all the lies?
he sighs and looks down, slipping his hands into his pockets. ]
no subject
it's unnatural how natural they feel.
at first, he just wants to say 'because I could'.
that's the best answer to spare Roxas the facts--bitter facts, and his own regret. it's so much easier to paint fantasy, paint himself as a villain and force Roxas to hate him. it's much easier than forcing his hand into sketching the real picture of external forces where no one really could stop anything, where Riku, like Roxas, was played and had no choice in the matter. he doesn't want to have to tell Roxas that there was really no use.
but Roxas deserves all the truth, doesn't he? after all the pain he's gone through, after all the lies?
he sighs and looks down, slipping his hands into his pockets. ]
All right.
[ he raises his head. ]
Why what? I did a lot of things.