[ There's no room in his head for measured decision-making. He doesn't think, he doesn't stop to. Riku stands there only long enough to see the thing vanish, pivots a second later, dropping to one knee to catch Vanitas as he starts to topple.
He's bleeding, Riku could swear he feels it, feels the weight of Vanitas against his arm and shoulder getting lighter by the second. Maybe that's the cold flashfire in his veins when the loud white noise of his thoughts crystallizes into he's dying.
He's dying.
Riku doesn't get around this realization to get to the point of telling himself it's his own fault, that if he'd just listened to Vanitas, didn't stand and fight, he wouldn't be bleeding out, wounded well past what Riku knows he can heal. Five died a mess, no matter how many times he drained his magical reserves dry with Curaga.
Both of his knees feel wet where he kneels. Riku puts his other arm across his back and shuffles closer, automatically, something he does without thinking about it. Hindsight might prompt him to wonder if it wasn't just some instinct to ease the inevitable, an unthinking impression that whatever happened, it isn't right to discard someone to die slow, alone and suffering. ]
I'm sorry. [ It tumbles out of his mouth. ] I'm sorry. I can't heal this.
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He's bleeding, Riku could swear he feels it, feels the weight of Vanitas against his arm and shoulder getting lighter by the second. Maybe that's the cold flashfire in his veins when the loud white noise of his thoughts crystallizes into he's dying.
He's dying.
Riku doesn't get around this realization to get to the point of telling himself it's his own fault, that if he'd just listened to Vanitas, didn't stand and fight, he wouldn't be bleeding out, wounded well past what Riku knows he can heal. Five died a mess, no matter how many times he drained his magical reserves dry with Curaga.
Both of his knees feel wet where he kneels. Riku puts his other arm across his back and shuffles closer, automatically, something he does without thinking about it. Hindsight might prompt him to wonder if it wasn't just some instinct to ease the inevitable, an unthinking impression that whatever happened, it isn't right to discard someone to die slow, alone and suffering. ]
I'm sorry. [ It tumbles out of his mouth. ] I'm sorry. I can't heal this.