Riku's knuckles throb, scarcely felt under the thunder of his blood in his ears, the anger and hurt writ large around a great big hole that hasn't ever closed. It's true; Riku is difficult and closed off, he keeps secrets from even his closest friends, not just once or twice but for years, he's reluctant to let people in and when he does, he's slow to let them see more than he allows.

Some can handle it. But it demands a lot from a person, it puts a strain on relationships when and if the other person needs greater access than he's willing to give.

The fear of losing someone precious is greater than that of being powerless to protect them, but not by much. He remembers the despair, the horror and bottomless fury of being alone and lost, constantly harried and whittled down by the gnawing emptiness. This fear, invoked just now, changes how he looks at this situation, it casts a shadow that's hard for him to ignore.

M.K. straightens, he tells him he thinks Riku can do better than him, and, as if offended, Riku draws back up, eyes wide and bright in muted shock. When he reaches for Riku, his arm sweeps up sharply, trying to deflect the contact as he starts to seethe.

"Don't," he shakes his head, "Don't you dare pity me!"