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CAUSE & EFFECT
oneshot

( ♥ )

HOW MUCH DO YOU LOVE ME ?
(as if you need to be told)

She stood in front of the old woman, rocking on her heels and grinning and giggling while a silly question dangled from her lips.

She was only five years old, but that pretty smile had never once left her face. There was no reason to frown when you lived in perfection. She hadn't a motive to cry or sulk because there were no twenty foot monsters materializing from the shadows in the corner; there were no handsome young boys with promises in their blue eyes; and there was nothing to wait for, and nothing to hold her down. Each of the town's residents knew her by name only because of her heartwarming grin, so without her smile, Kairi would simply not be Kairi – and that was that.

But really, she knew that she was loved. She knew that everyone loved her, and her grandmother loved her even more; she didn't need to confirm it with some juvenile query every day or every hour. It was only a game, and a never ending one at that, but the elderly lady found no monotony in her repetition – simply love and radiance, and a bliss that had long since crumbled from her old bones and skin.

They were playing her game in the castle's library today: she was anxiously hopping on the cold tile floor while her grandmother sat idle in an uncomfortable armchair. The smell of dust and thousands of old books was acrid in the child's nostrils, but her attention never wavered from the old woman's calm façade and gentle, caring smile. And still, the smirk was nothing in comparison to the girl's constant sparkle. But that much was expected.

Alacrity shimmered in her violet irises, playful impatience causing her to repeat herself every second left unanswered:

"How much? How much?"

The ancient smile pulling on the grandmother's wrinkled lips fluttered larger for a moment, and she began to slowly lean forward in her seat while her old frame creaked and ached. Her arms extended suddenly, enveloping her granddaughter in a tight bear hug, causing her to squirm and squeal.

"This much!" The woman finally confessed, her frail voice echoing in the vacant library's hallways.

Ten seconds of hysterical laugher passed by until she finally wriggled free and ran back down the hallway, weaving through rows of bookshelves and stirring millions of dust motes in her path.

Three days later, there was a strange disturbance in the castle's basement and Kairi was shipped to some foreign island light years away, barely missing the attack of darkness on her hometown. She stopped smiling so much, but she still knew that she was loved.

Two boys loved her, and she loved them back.

- - & ; ♥

HOW MUCH DO YOU LOVE ME ?
(say it again and again and again)

It was such a peculiar question.

It was such an awkward question.

It was such an immature question. She knew. She made the question twelve years ago.

But the question was what it came down to: because even though they tried and tried and tried to tell each other their feelings, it never came out right.

They were standing hand-in-hand on the shore, motionless beneath the twinkling stars and romantic full moon. She was staring intensely at the man, passion and curiosity clawing deep in her eyes – because now it wasn't a game, now it was made of truth and emotions, and for those silent seconds she was afraid that he might be immune to her love.

Blue stared into violet for another heart wrenching beat.

And another and another and another.

But finally he stepped close and held her closer. A smile touched both their lips while he softly murmured in her ear:

"This much."

And then he kissed her. Sora kissed Kairi and their wedding a few years later was inevitable.

But she noticed something unusual at the reception while Sora spoke with Tidus and Wakka: and old friend, whom she had never known to drink, had attached himself to whatever table held the most wine, and sipped (no, chugged) the liquid down for hours. Each glass made him look more fatigued; his eyes were red and his face was flushed, but he didn't stop and no one bothered to stop him. She doubted anyone else noticed.

A song the two barely liked came on, and with Sora still talking in the corner, Kairi grasped the drunken man's hands in her own and pulled him to the center of the floor:

"Riku! Dance with me!"

He didn't dance very well when he was drunk.

- - & ; ♥

But it kept getting worse.

He didn't just drink on special occasions anymore; it seemed like a bottle of alcohol was permanently attached to his lips, the liquor getting harder with each week left unquestioned. They were worried. Of course they were worried. He was their never-sober friend who recently stopped visiting and stopped calling and stopped leaving his house unless he was out of beer.

She wasn't so sure she could help him. It wasn't as if she had ever had an alcohol abuse problem – but no one else had either, and no one else had managed to pull themselves together and pound on his door at three in the afternoon.

"Riku!" She shouted while she knocked a little louder, impatiently bouncing on her heels but she wasn't smiling and she knew that something was wrong. He was home – but he wasn't opening the door. If anyone, he would let her in, right?

Her knuckles were nearly red from the straight minutes of knocking, and the thought that he might be passed out, sprawled all over the floor from too much alcohol was unsettling at the least. She breathed and placed her hand on the doorknob, swiftly turning it and pushing the door open with a quiet creak. She stepped in without a second thought and violet eyes scanned over the dark living room, flicking distastefully over every empty bottle and shard of broken glass before she confirmed that Riku was not in the room.

And then she heard a soft tap and swoosh of liquid coming from the kitchen, just a few feet away from her current position.

"Riku," She started immediately, accusingly placing her hands on her hips even before he was in view, "Didn't you hear me?" She stood in the doorway and he sat at the table, holding a liquor bottle by its neck and shaking and shaking and shaking.

He didn't answer. He knew she was there but pretended he didn't while he pressed the bottle against his lips again, tipping his head back and draining the alcohol down his throat. It burned in his mouth and the smell burned her nose like the books sixteen years ago. And then she noticed the gun in his hand.

"Oh."

Beat.

"Oh God, Riku."

He dropped the glass bottle back on the table, shakily releasing its neck before placing the same hand on the other end of the gun. He stared down the barrel like it was a beer bottle; unfazed, unwavering, but glazed and confused and depressed. And in a twisted way the gun was like his alcohol, she thought, for they'd both bury his troubles, but one would bury him with it. He didn't seem to find a problem in that.

They both started breathing faster. They both started to shake worse. He could barely see what he was doing now but he still knew – that was all that mattered. Desperation and fear choked the girl from stopping him or ripping the gun away. She only gaped until he finally glanced up at her, the reason written clearly on his face as their eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity:

Sora had gotten her first. She had asked him first; she had an answer from him first. Now Riku thought he had nothing.

She swallowed and, through a long, trembling breath could only get herself to ask:

HOW MUCH DO YOU LOVE ME ?
(selfish selfish girl only wants what she already knows)

Click.

Neither of them pretended not to hear anymore. He heard her question and she heard the gun. She watched him shiver while he pressed the weapon against his temple. But then he didn't move – he was thinking thinking thinking of an answer with a gun at his head and she wanted him to put it down because he couldn't die, no no nonono. Not because of her. She was too perfect to let that happen.

But she only stared. She stopped breathing. And finally, he replied while pinching his eyes closed:

"This much."

BANG.

He's not shaking anymore and now his blood is all over the floor.

( × )

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n o t e ;
I don't own Kingdom Hearts.
Ehehhh. Panic! At the Disco gives me odd inspiration. Hopefully that didn't suck too badly.