They would lie on the beach.

Schoolmates and other onlookers did not quite understand the phenomenon, and often looked at the three strangely. The intervals were random, without any discernable pattern. To everyone's knowledge, there was no communication either, that anyone saw. One by one, they would assemble on the beach of the island, somehow sensing the need, and lie together on the beach, hand in hand.

They knew, though, and they did not care what the others thought. Even two years after the fact, adventures like the one they had both shared and not shared were not something that was just forgotten about, suppressed to the back of the mind to be looked at with fondness once and a while. It would be years yet before any of them were even close to that, if ever. They sensed it because they each needed it, to have a moment where they were just close; where they simply were. And so they would appear at the beach, where it had all started, and lie on the sand, the waves tickling their ears and their toes, lost in their own private but intimate reveries.

On the right was Riku.

Guilt and remorse were constant companions to him, looking at what he had done and that "twenty-twenty" hindsight ripping through him. The strength of his heart was simply the willingness to do anything to get what he wanted. It was a strength that the other two admired about him, had told him often that it was something to be proud of, but he could not yet see it. To get what he wanted? All he ever wanted was to be with his two best friends: his rival and little sister. When going through various what ifs, as he often did, he could on some days come to understand that it may have not been so bad, that he could have been comfortable with it, had it not been for his weakness:

He was almost violently jealous of other people being close to his friends. When he had first found Sora in Traverse Town after the islands had disappeared, happy and joking with two people from another world, the jealousy had been intensely acute. Hadn't Sora worried about him? About Kairi? Why wasn't he desperate to find them? Why, oh why did he just shrug off Riku's disappearance, so quick after finding him? He'd left to see how Sora would react, to test him to see how happy Sora really was to see him. His reaction?

"Ah, well. At least I know he's okay."

That had hurt. Hurt in a way he had never felt before, he didn't know how to deal with it. Maleficient, silver tongued and smooth and horribly perceptive, had taken that pain and wrenched at it, burrowing in and pushing it further and further into his heart. Sora was a waste; all that was left was the unconscious and helpless Kairi.

And so he had put all of his strength and focus on saving her. On finding her heart, or searching for a heart that would do. Eventually, that led to his opening the Door, not to Kingdom Hearts, but the Door of his Heart to the Darkness.

Even as a child, he had been comfortable with the darkness. Kairi shied away from it repeatedly, and while Sora didn't mind it, he more often than not had better things to do. Riku was the only one comfortable with it. Night wasn't a time for sleep; it was a time for contemplation, for deeper thought than could not be attained in the noise of the day. He seemed to instinctively understand that darkness had power. He had never minded using it. It seemed so simple to plunge into it completely, to sink into that power and harness it for his own purposes, to use it to forcibly bring back Kairi's heart, to make her well again. Maybe then the two of them could bring Sora back; and then they could go back to the way things were, the way they were supposed to be.

Instead, he had gotten inside him. Ansem, or rather, as he learned later, Xehanort's Heartless. He, it, took him over, changed his body, used it for things he didn't want to do; he tried to kill Sora, Kairi!

Riku could not believe it when his best friend, his rival, had unlocked his own heart to save Kairi, could not believe he was now a Heartless, some faceless shadow meant to eat hearts. It was something that snapped Riku back to himself, to realize the simple truth. And really, he knew Sora, it should have been obvious. Sora hadn't replaced him with Donald and Goofy, he hadn't forgotten about their friendship, or Kairi, or the island, none of it. He was searching in his own way. Sora was the eternal optimist, always looking on the bright side, and believing in his friends. He had found Riku alive and unharmed, surely that meant that Kairi was alright too. And Riku would be fine, because he was Riku, and therefore Sora wouldn't have to worry.

How stupid was Riku for not seeing that? It was the darkest time on his journey, when he realized the path he had taken was based entirely on a misunderstanding, of him getting jealous over nothing.

But, if nothing else Riku corrected his mistakes. With Sora's help, Riku regained his body and, between him, Sora, and the King, managed to lock the door to Kingdom Hearts.

Mickey had become a wonderful friend in that time, in the wandering in the darkness. He shared everything he knew, about Xehanort, about the Heartless and the gummi ships, and the worlds he had been to. He was an optimist like Sora, and as the Heartless in Riku continued to eat at his heart, the tiny mouse was always able to put a smile on Riku's face, to make him see the bright side like Sora had always done. It didn't take much for him to see why the King had a Keyblade, too.

His strength of heart came to him again, when he began fighting Organization XIII, had been shocked beyond measure to find a Nobody who could wield a Keyblade. Not just any Keyblade, his Keyblade, Sora's Keyblade. Defeat had been spectacular, and Riku had been hurt more than physically in that battle. He was not strong enough, not to bring this Roxas to Ansem and Sora's broken chain of memories. And so he would have to become stronger, and to become stronger Riku would do anything.

And he did.

He used the power to darkness, changed his body and his name, and did what he had to do. He would blind himself to what he had become, would never be able to be with Sora and Kairi again; but if that meant that they would be alright, that they would survive and be okay, then he would do it, without a second thought, without an ounce of remorse, without an inch of hesitation.

So imagine his surprise when Kairi not only recognized him, but accepted him without a blink of thought. When Sora cried at their reunion, the desperation he had so wanted to hear on that night in Traverse Town now in full volume. The misunderstanding reasserted itself, and Riku looked at the decisions he had made in the year this had happened, and he could feel nothing but regret. It all stemmed from that one night, and he would spend the rest of his life making it up to Sora and Kairi.

He should have trusted them more.

The power of darkness was gone in his heart, having left during their battle with Xemnas. But, Riku understood, he would always have darkness. He was the mirror to Sora, his balance. Sora was light, he was darkness.

And, as he lied on the beach, eyes closed to the brilliant sunset over the ocean, for the first time, he smiled. He could accept himself if that were true.

On the left was Kairi.

The strength of her heart? She had trouble putting a word to it, and often the best she could find was "belief." More than even Sora, she believed in her friends. Somehow, even without a heart, she knew that Sora and Riku would do everything in their power to help her. Even kidnapped and locked in a prison in Castle Oblivion, she knew that they would come. She had absolute confidence that everything would return to normal. Even now, when they unconsciously gathered on the beach to share each other's hearts, she knew that in time they would all heal.

Kairi's weakness, what brought her to the beach, was action. Swords had never interested her, and while she was fit she was never in the peak condition that Sora and Riku were. She simply was not a fighter, not in the physical sense. Since returning to the island she was quickly remedying that fact, but when it had counted most she could not participate. Both Sora and Riku were always stepping in front of her, protecting her instead of letting her try to do it on her own. It was sweet of them, and she intrinsically understood their need to do it, but she wanted so desperately to help.

While Sora and Riku battled, often desperately, to be reunited, while they sacrificed and were injured, she had either been without a heart of locked in a silver cage. Yes, she was really a help.

She had only watched with the battle with Saix, his giant axe flying this way and that, always Sora dodging by mere inches, always that close to death. She could barely stand it. The worry in her heart was so large, it promised to engulf her. Faith that Sora would be fine was one thing; to watch him fight to the death was another entirely. It reaffirmed the fact that she was useless, that she could do nothing in the battle. At the same time, it strengthened her resolve. She would be there for the final battle. She may be useless, she may get in the way, she may be a hindrance, but she was not going to stand by and do nothing, like in the previous fight with Xehanort's Heartless. She would do something, even if it was just witness the battle, it was better than just sitting on her hands on the island and wondering, her belief the only thing sustaining her.

In the end, however, that was just what happened. She and Mickey were pushed back to the Alter of Naught, and could only watch with her senses what was happening. Even that would have been okay, because Sora and Riku had Donald and Goofy, and at any rate they had defeated Xemnas. At least, they had thought so, until her precious two, Sora and Riku, were pulled away from the portal, Xemnas apparently still alive and determined to defeat them. Again, she was on the islands and waiting. It infuriated her to no end. Was she really to be passed over every time it counted? Was her role really so trivial?

Sora had tried to help her, to tell her that there were plenty of people out there that did just fine without fighting; like Aerith and Queen Minnie and the Princesses of Heart. When asked what they did, Sora would stumble, grinding to a halt. He knew they helped, he felt it, but he wasn't sure exactly what they did.

On the beach, the waves tickling her toes and the warmth of her friends beside her, she would start to understand. Her role was as a motivator. She was the one that kept them going; she was the one that healed their wounds, physical and mental, after the harrowing battle. Her job was to soothe and comfort. She was the cheerleader. It was for her that they fought, fought to rescue her, to save her, to be near her. In their worst times, they said, they would feel her presence, cheering them on and telling them that they would do just fine.

It wasn't as glorious as wielding a Keyblade, destroying Heartless and Nobodies, confronting monsters and triumphing. But it was just as important.

She smiled, listening to the trees sway in the breeze and the water slowly creep up to her ankles.

In the middle today was Sora.

The eternal optimist, they called him; always looking on the bright side, never doubting his friends, always doing the right thing. A strong sense of justice, they said, a person who not only knew the difference between right and wrong, but acted accordingly.

His strength was his friends; that was obvious. He was the type of person that always took time out of his day for the people around him. He constantly got in trouble for it, Donald always swatting him and telling him to stay focused, prioritize. It's not that Sora didn't, per se, just that his priorities rarely dealt with the future. He rarely had time for it because he was so filled with the now. If someone was distressed now, then who was he to put it aside for a distant goal? It was this ability that garnered him friends by the dozens, people who would know him only for a few days, sometimes a few minutes, and yet put all their faith in him, somehow instinctively believing that he would do just fine.

Goofy and Donald were wonderful supports, holding him up at all times, as did Leon and Yuffie and Cid and Aerith and Merlin and Cloud and Tifa and all the people on various worlds that he'd met. It was because of Donald and Goofy, and the seven Princesses, and Kairi and Riku that he was able to return from being a Heartless. It was their belief that convinced him - against overwhelming evidence to the contrary - that Kingdom Hearts was light.

Sora's weakness was a very private one, one he fought against continuously, especially during the battle with Organization XIII, one that very few people saw, even could see.

Uncertainty.

How many times did he doubt himself over those years? That he still doubted now? Had Riku been right; had he replaced him and Kairi with Donald and Goofy? Was the heart really fueled by darkness? How could he afford to be so happy on his journey through the worlds when Kairi was missing and Riku was working with Maleficient? Was he doing the right thing?

There were times when it swept over him so completely that he almost couldn't move. It was uncertainty that prevented him from reaching out to Riku the night the island was ripped apart. The darkness surrounding his best friend was so strong; he shied away from it as much as he wanted to grab the offered hand. That was what started the separation. If he had grabbed Riku's hand, would things have changed? Turned out better?

All he had ever wanted to do was help. Simple as that. But had his trying to help hurt? He had hurt Riku, badly enough to convince him that he'd turned against him, had replaced their sacred trinity with a new set.

Sora learned a lot on that first venture. More often than not, the light of his friends overshadowed the doubt, and his strength would be refilled, and his determination solidified.

Something changed however, when his chain of memories was broken. He gained it back, that was true, but it was like a precious link was missing. The strength his friends gave him did not fill the way it was supposed to. Having seen Riku's body taken over had planted a seed of worry in him, and his search for his rival became increasingly desperate. The very idea that King Mickey knew what had happened but didn't say anything only fueled it; had Riku been hurt? Or worse? Would he ever see his best friend again? Would they ever get back to the way they were? What would the Organization do to Kairi?

It was so hard during that time. The fight at Hollow Bastion only made it worse. It nearly broke him in two to ask his friends to wait, to give him the time to help his other friends. It was what Donald said; prioritize. The now superceded the future. The price of that decision was the wrath of a member of the Organization, the injury of Goofy, the epic fight in the maw, and the confusion of the Nobodies and the Heartless.

The more complex life became, the more he doubted, the more he was uncertain that what he was doing was right. He clung to the simple truths: protect Kingdom Hearts; find Riku and Kairi, help his friends when they needed it.

It had all released when he'd found them, Kairi and Riku. The relief and the joy and the overwhelming sense of release sent him to his knees in tears. They were okay. They were safe. His road had been the right one.

And in knowing that, the strength returned to him, and he found he was stronger than ever.

And the added bonus was the make up with Riku. Sora had been surprised to see his friend's hesitancy, as if somehow what he'd done in the past mattered. Sora of all people knew better than that. The past didn't matter, it was the present, and presently, Riku had just sacrificed himself to save his life. If he was looking for some kind of rectification on his perceived mistake, Sora thought that moment more than made up for it.

He couldn't be sad for long. He never could, really, but especially after that moment on the dark beach. For all his doubts and uncertainty, Riku had said that the one thing he had that Sora never would was Sora as a friend.

It was that statement, Sora firmly believed, that opened the door to light and sent them home.

They were back on the island. They were home. All of them. His goal had been achieved.

And really, what was there to complain about?

And so they lay on the beach, being close to each other and reaffirming themselves, each other, and the rightness of them being home and okay and safe. Their weaknesses slowly faded away, replaced by their strengths and their convictions. It was by doing this that their hearts healed, and it was in moments like this when they realized:

Maybe it wouldn't take years. Maybe they were already there.