Sora's shoulders sink down from his ears, his keyblade disappearing as he stares hard into the floor, picking at his hands for a lack of a hilt between them. Why is he so... anxious? Unsure? The soldier's right, he won't be alone. And he's saved the universe once. He's saved it a lot of times.
Selfish.
Well, so, it wasn't actually him. But he remembers everything Sora did, right? And he has the same heart, he thinks. He's not as strong as him here, but that's what happens to everyone in Beacon. It's just an answer. The soldier said so. They're giving him an out. He's not alone.
Selfish.
He thinks. It's hard, untangling the strands in his head. (His shoulders are tightening again. He doesn't notice.) Who he feels like he is, and who he isn't, and what he can and can't do if he is or isn't (or never was, or shouldn't have been), and who he's sure he isn't, and who Riku thinks -
You just want a clear conscience.
"I'm going to do my best," Sora says suddenly. His hands are balled into fists. "I'm... really glad. If I'm going to be around, I want you guys to know you can count on me." He's pretty sure his nails are leaving marks in his palms, but he can't feel them. "Thank you. I really mean it. I really, really want to help."
He thinks he's keeping a lid on things, and he's really, very, truly grateful that the soldier is being kind, and gentle, and other things he doesn't deserve because he's fake and incomplete and not good enough and not even a good copy of someone who wasn't good enough in the first place, but gratefulness is not exactly staring at a point on the ground so the extra water in his eyes doesn't spill over a compliment.
no subject
Selfish.
Well, so, it wasn't actually him. But he remembers everything Sora did, right? And he has the same heart, he thinks. He's not as strong as him here, but that's what happens to everyone in Beacon. It's just an answer. The soldier said so. They're giving him an out. He's not alone.
Selfish.
He thinks. It's hard, untangling the strands in his head. (His shoulders are tightening again. He doesn't notice.) Who he feels like he is, and who he isn't, and what he can and can't do if he is or isn't (or never was, or shouldn't have been), and who he's sure he isn't, and who Riku thinks -
You just want a clear conscience.
"I'm going to do my best," Sora says suddenly. His hands are balled into fists. "I'm... really glad. If I'm going to be around, I want you guys to know you can count on me." He's pretty sure his nails are leaving marks in his palms, but he can't feel them. "Thank you. I really mean it. I really, really want to help."
He thinks he's keeping a lid on things, and he's really, very, truly grateful that the soldier is being kind, and gentle, and other things he doesn't deserve because he's fake and incomplete and not good enough and not even a good copy of someone who wasn't good enough in the first place, but gratefulness is not exactly staring at a point on the ground so the extra water in his eyes doesn't spill over a compliment.