Archive of Our Own

Lauriam blinked, thrown off guard. “Cut my hair?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow at the blue-haired woman who has planted herself in front of him, wielding scissors and a scarily determined expression. “Why, is my appearance that deplorable?”

Aqua doesn’t take the bait, as much as he would have welcomed their usual back-and-forth of barbs and cutting comments under a veneer of politeness that similar snipping with Larxene never had. He’s been feeling jittery and restless all morning, emotions buzzing under his skin from the moment he awoke, all of them too much too much too much –

He’d been hoping to find Terra and spar with him – a last desperate measure to exorcise these feelings. It would have had the added benefit of seeing Terra surprised – not a particularly hard feat, but it’s amusing all the same, given how often he usually tries to skip out of training (it’s not his fault that he hasn’t used a Keyblade in millennia, that he got used to the graceful arcs and whirlwind cuts of his scythe and even if he’s Lauriam again – glad to be Lauriam again – in some ways it still just feels wrongwrongwrong). He misses Larxene, and the safety of their arguments. He wants to hit things, and be hit, and maybe the bruises will help him focus on something other than trying to crawl out of his own skin.

Except Aqua’s in his way now, and he doesn’t know what to do. Their dislike is mutual, but lately he’s been trying to be a little less acidic, a little more open to calling a truce. Terra cares deeply about her, after all; so does Ven. They love her like a sister and Lauriam –

Well, he’d want them to love Strelitzia, if they ever got to meet her.

So he’ll try, and maybe Aqua is trying too, and that’s why she’s still here in front of him. “You look fine,” she says, sounding surprisingly sincere enough that Lauriam just blinks at her, “but summer comes fast here, and it gets hotter than you’d think. You won’t want to be dealing with that mop in the heat, if you’re planning on staying.” There’s a hint of a challenge in the last few words, a hard light in her eyes that wasn’t there earlier. He bites back the quickfire urge to snap at her – she still thinks he’s going to cut and run, hurt Terra and Ven in the process, hasn’t he done enough to prove otherwise yet? – but it’s gone in the same flash of anger it swept in on. After all, she’s right, isn’t she? He always ends up hurting someone.

(Ven, Naminè, Strelitzia… all the people he should have been protecting and he didn’t).

The silence stretches a moment too long in his self-loathing and the challenge in Aqua’s gaze falters, becomes concern, and bile rises in his throat. The last thing he wants is her pointless worry! “My hair,” he says snidely, “is not a mop.” It’s a weak response and he half expects her to call him on it, given the way she studies him for a long moment.

“It’s up to you,” she says eventually, and a wave of relief sweeps through him, that she’s ignoring a moment of weakness. Maybe they really are both trying. Maybe he should try a bit harder, in future. He doesn’t like owing debts. “I’m happy to cut it for you, but if you don’t have to if you want to keep it long. I’m sure one of us has a hair-tie somewhere if you want to keep it up in the heat.”

It finally occurs to Lauriam that she really is offering to cut his hair. He eyes the scissors in Aqua’s hand warily. It’s not a bad idea, per se – not that he’d really ever considered it before now – but perhaps it’s not the wisest move to have sharp objects near his face when they’re wielded by someone who doesn’t care overly much for him.

Terra would be very upset if she stabbed me, he reminds himself. She’s hardly likely to try something like that.

Aqua must notice his apprehension, because she softens and smiles reassuringly at him, although her words show she’s misunderstood the reason behind it. “I’ve cut Terra and Ven’s hair for almost as long as I’ve known them,” she tells him. “I know what I’m doing. You don’t need to worry that I’ll make you look bad.”

“As if you could,” he snorts, and is rewarded with an unimpressed stare. Excellent. He considers the offer – the peace offering, his mind substitutes – with more attention now that he knows it’s sincere. It’s been a while since his last haircut; he tries to think back to the ‘when’ and comes up with some time during his tenure in the True Organisation XIII. His hair doesn’t grow particularly fast, but it’s always been incredibly thick, and lately it’s been threatening to spill past his shoulders. He probably is overdue for a trim.

Why stop there, though? Maybe what he needs is a change, something drastic to throw off whatever ennui has been settling around him. He’s not likely to have a personality change any time soon, and he doesn’t intend on leaving the Land of Departure while Terra makes his home here, which leaves him with only superficial options. At least a haircut is reversible if he hates it.

Besides, while he doubts the Land of Departure will ever match Agrabah for summer heat, the idea of thick, sweaty hair – in effect, the mop Aqua had accused him of – around his neck for months on end makes him shudder.

“Don’t feel like you have to,” Aqua points out, concern creeping back into her expression. “If you don’t want to –”

“No, I do,” Lauriam says decisively, cutting her off. He looks at her surprised expression and feels a curl of shame in his gut. She doesn’t like him, but she made the offer anyway; the least he can do is be polite. He smiles at her; it’s small and polite, but genuine, unlike so many of his smiles lately. “It’s… kind of you to offer,” he says hesitantly. “Thank you.”

She blinks at him in surprise – probably wondering if he’s been possessed – before she smiles in reply, and amazingly, it’s genuine too. “It’s no trouble. I can do it now, if you want?”

Better now than later, after he’s had time to second-guess himself. “Lead the way,” he says smoothly, sweeping out a hand with a graceful half-bow. Aqua snorts and moves past him, shaking her head slightly as he straightens up and falls into step behind her as she leads him through the hallways.

It’s been a few weeks now since he arrived at the Land of Departure. The manor – castle? – where they live is big, but it’s not overly complex, and he’s slowly starting to learn his way around the hallways. It’s completely different to Castle Oblivion, so much so that he marvels every time he remembers that his castle and this place were somehow the same. Sometimes, he’ll step into a room and have a flash of familiarity like he should know this place, but it’s never a room he recognises when he looks more closely. It was unsettling at first, much in the same way that Castle Oblivion had been unsettling before he began his takeover plot, but he’s grown used to these flashes of familiarity. It makes him feel a bit more like this place is his, rather than just being a vaguely welcome guest. He had been the lord of Castle Oblivion, after all.

Castle Oblivion… Aqua had made it from this place to hide a sleeping Ven; Ventus, asleep here all those years as Marluxia attempted to plot and scheme his way to the top of the Organisation. Lauriam shivers; it’s just as well he never found Ven during his time at Castle Oblivion. He might not have had his memories, but there’s no guarantee he wouldn’t have done something drastic on instinct. Part of him wonders if Ven was the reason Xemnas demanded they search the Castle from basement to tower; wonders if it was the part of Xemnas that was Xehanort, or Terra. Well, Xemnas is gone now, and Terra wouldn’t have any idea, not that Lauriam intends to ask, anyway.

“In here.” Aqua’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and he obeys her gesture to precede her into the room – which turns out to be the sunny breakfast room they tend to eat in when it’s just the four of them, warm and filled with the scent of the garden just outside, the one that Terra had been maintaining. There’s already an array of combs and scissors spread out on the bench, a chair pulled up beside it, and he raises an eyebrow in question at Aqua over his shoulder.

“I was going to ask all three of you, I just found you first,” she explains, waving him to take a seat. He does so gingerly, apprehension returning as she drapes a cloth around his shoulders. “Now,” she says, surveying him critically, fluffing his hair a bit, “what exactly do you want done?”

“Uh – shorter.” Hrm, that’s too vague. “Same style, just – shorter. Not too short, though.” He gestures vaguely around chin-level. Aqua’s scrutiny makes him feel like he should offer more context. “I used to – wear my hair short like that, before.”

Aqua doesn’t ask him to clarify if he means before, as a Nobody, or before-before, from his and Ven’s original time. It doesn’t really matter, in any case. She nods slowly, eyes still flicking over his hair like she’s imagining the look. “Are you sure?” she checks, taking up a pair of scissors.

No. “Yes,” he lies. “It’ll grow, either way.”

“Have a little faith,” Aqua laughs, moving behind him. “I think it’ll look cute.”

He tilts his head back to frown at her, nearly catching a spray of water to the face. “Pfft. I’m leagues above ‘cute’.”

Aqua snorts, gently nudging his head forward again. “I’ll keep that in mind, Flower Boy. Anything else?”

He hesitates a moment, suddenly conscious of the sharp blades in her hand once again. “Don’t stab me,” he requests, eyeing them.

His honesty startles another laugh out of Aqua, who starts to wet his hair properly and section it out. “These are my good scissors, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Lauriam contemplates this. “What, you’d happily stab me with less good scissors?”

Aqua snorts and doesn’t reply, which would be slightly worrying if not for the fact that he can now feel the scissors snipping away at the strands of his hair, which is a more immediate worry. He clasps his hands in his lap, hoping his grip isn’t as obviously white-knuckled as it feels.

After a few minutes of silence but for the snipping of the scissors, Aqua sighs. “Relax,” she advises, laying a hand on his shoulder. Lauriam very much does not flinch, but it’s a close-run thing. “You’ll give yourself a headache if you stay tensed up like that.”

Maybe, but he’s already regretting agreeing to this and what’s one more thing to regret? Still, he takes a deep breath and lets it out, trying to relax. He succeeds, minimally.

Aqua sighs again, but the steady snick-snick-snick of the scissors resumes. “Look, I’m aware you don’t like me,” she says, and oh look, he’s tense again, “and I know you know I’m not fond of you either.” Lauriam ‘mm’s into the beat of silence that follows, wildly unsure of what he’s meant to say to that. Apparently simple acknowledgement is enough, because Aqua continues. “I don’t trust you, and I don’t know if you’re good for Terra, but…”

Gee, thank you ever so for your gracious words, Lauriam snarks to himself, but a morbid curiosity has him prompting, “But?”

“…We’ve all been through a lot,” she says eventually, and Lauriam almost wants to laugh at how utterly pathetic that phrase is at describing, well, everything that’s happened to any of them. “and I’m glad that Terra’s found something – someone – that brings him happiness. Ven too; he values your friendship. That… means a lot to me. I might knock the stuffing out of you in training – especially if you keep sneaking out of it!” Lauriam winces as she raps him on the head with a comb. It’s not enough to stop him from skipping out next time, though. “But I’m not going to murder you in your sleep or anything,” she continues, combing out part of his hair. “…as long as you don’t go around hurting my friends.”

Lauriam digested this. It had the sounds of a truce. But…

“So… you’ll only murder me in my sleep if I do hurt them?” he asks slowly.

“With my second-best pair of scissors,” Aqua promises. “You’d deserve it.”

He supposes he should be slightly more concerned about receiving death threats – or is this a shovel talk? That’s actually somehow more disturbing – but his closest friend in this era is Larxene, and, well, that should speak for itself. “Hrm,” Lauriam says, closing his eyes. “Can’t argue there.” He’s already hurt Ven and Terra so many times over and the terrible thing is – he isn’t going to change. He’ll do it again, he’s sure of it. So many of the other Nobodies in the Organisation – they’d come back the same as they’d originally been, or better than they’d been before. Lauriam didn’t come back as his former self, hadn’t returned grown from the experience – he might call himself by his old name but the truth was he’d come back as Marluxia with a bonus mountain of feelings he didn’t know how to process, and a head full of memories he was still sorting through.

Some days, Lauriam really couldn’t see why any of them – apart from Larxene – wanted anything to do with him.

“Don’t mess it up,” Aqua advises. He opens his eyes again, peering out of the corner of his eye to see her looking serious.

“I’ll do my best,” he promises, because he owes Ven and Terra that much, at least.

She glances down, meeting his gaze. “Do better.”

And really, what can he say to counter that? He glances away, unwilling to maintain eye contact, and closes his eyes as Aqua continues to work.

The sunlight filtering through the window is warm and Aqua hums softly as she works and gradually, he feels his shoulders relax. It’s… nice, having someone brush his hair like this. Maybe he can convince Terra to do it in the mornings. Terra’s sentimental enough that he might just do it, too.

“There we go!” Aqua announces eventually, startling him out of the drowsy state he’s fallen into. She whisks the towel away – Lauriam blinks at the floor; did he really have that much hair? – and brushes a few stray strands from his shoulder. She eyes him critically, hands on hips, and nods. “It looks good on you,” she says approvingly. “You look a lot younger.”

It certainly feels a lot lighter. Lauriam raises a hand cautiously to his neck, fingertips brushing the ends of his hair just below his earlobe. It feels… odd; the nape of his neck feels too exposed, and his hand curls around it protectively before he drags his fingers away. Aqua hands him a mirror, which he almost drops in shock the second he catches sight of himself.

For a moment, all the years in between drop away, and he’s in Daybreak Town again, staring into the mirror as he vows that today is going to be the day that he finds Strelitzia, wherever she is.

It’s not identical, of course – he’s older now, and there are lines and angles in his face he didn’t have back then. The haircut’s not identical either, although it’s close enough that his fingers shake a little as he reaches up to touch the ends of his hair again almost in a trance. It’s the face of a liar, a failure, wrongwrongwrong –

This was not a good idea, he thinks faintly.

“Is it okay?” Aqua’s voice sounds a long way off. He drags his eyes away from the mirror to find her looking down at him worriedly, eyes filled with concern. Lauriam supposes he must look a sight, staring wide-eyed at the mirror like he’s seen a ghost. It’s almost the truth. “I can try to fix it –”

Lauriam shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s fine,” he lies immediately. The haircut itself is rather good – Aqua has done an amazing job for someone who’s never touched his hair before. It’s not her fault that he’s a fraud, playing at who he used to be. He smiles, and it’s fake but it’s not his usual smirk for when he’s trying to be infuriating, and he hopes she reads the intention of gratitude, at least. “It’s just a blast from the past, you know? Been a while since I’ve seen my hair this short.” He chuckles, and it sounds a little strained to his ears but Aqua doesn’t seem to pick up on it. “You’ve worked wonders. I’m impressed.” He gives her a little bow from his seat. “Thank you for your kindness.”

Aqua looks relieved and pleased all at once – good, he hasn’t managed to unintentionally antagonise her – and she steps back to give him space as he stands. “You’re welcome,” she says warmly, starting to clean up, and giving Lauriam the chance to start edging very quickly towards the door. As he makes his escape to find somewhere to discreetly have the freak-out he can feel building, Aqua calls after him, “If you see Terra or Ven around, let them know I can cut theirs too, okay?”

“Certainly,” he replies over his shoulder, raising a hand in farewell before he strides quickly out the door. Once he’s in the hallway and out of sight, he collapses against the wall with a sigh. Fingers curl into the freshly cut ends of his hair, tugging hard enough to be just shy of painful, and he grits his teeth. I need to – get out. Find somewhere to sort his thoughts out, because he refuses to react like this every time he sees himself in a mirror. He doesn’t want to run into Ven, not when he’s feeling so unstable (and light, there has to be a way he can ask Ven not to cut his hair short without losing all dignity, because if he can’t even handle seeing himself like this then it’s going to be even worse considering Ven’s barely aged at all – )

He takes a deep breath, dragging his hand away from his hair to rub at his chest instead. Almost, almost, it would be a blessing to lose his heart again, and not have to deal with all these inconvenient feelings. But – no. There’s things he has now that he won’t give up, that losing his heart again would rob him of, and he refuses to bring Strelitzia back to a world where her brother ‘Lauriam’ doesn’t exist. For his sister’s sake, he can deal with these accursed feelings, even if his chest feels tight and it’s hard to breathe.

He might not know every twist and turn of this castle, but he knows his way from here to the front doors well enough. The sunshine is warm and gentle on his face once he’s outside, and something in him loosens a bit enough for him to breathe again.

The practice grounds, he decides. Even if Ven and Terra are there – and with Terra, it’s a fairly safe bet he will be – there’s a few smaller courtyards higher up that overlook the practice grounds. With luck, he should be able to sneak up to one of them with no-one the wiser. He might loathe the idea of running to Terra for comfort – he’s dealt with all of this long enough on his own, his pride doesn’t need to take that hit – but watching him from afar is… acceptable. It’s a good enough distraction, anyway.

It’s strange to feel the breeze on the back of his neck as he climbs the winding path that leads to the upper courtyards. He tugs his hands away from the ends of his hair yet again and shoves them into pockets instead. Larxene cackles at him for being so dramatic over a haircut of all things in the back of his mind, though the real deal is worlds away right now. He misses her, he realises; sardonic wit and biting comments aside, she’s always been able to handle him at his most melodramatic, mostly by poking holes in his ego when it got too self-inflated. As much as he’s ridiculed Terra for it in the past, the other man’s kindness is one of his best points – especially because it’s such a rusty concept for Lauriam himself. But sometimes, he just needs someone to be a bastard right back at him, and Larxene has always excelled at that.

I should go see her, he decides, finally stepping into the small courtyard. She might even have missed me too. Voices drift up from far below, and he peers over the stone railing that borders the outlook to see Ven and Terra having a practice bout below. Exactly as I predicted. Lauriam smirks to himself, leaning on an elbow as he watches the two far-away figures exchange blows.

He watches idly for a few minutes; it seems like Ven still uses the same bizarre backwards-hold he did in the past. His Keyblade is different though… I wonder when it changed? His mind skips along to his own Keyblade, probably gathering metaphysical dust wherever it sleeps inside his newly reformed heart. It’s still the same Divine Rose as it’s ever been, and he has so many memories of it solid and steady in his grip that it’s honestly frustrating to see how it stutters and dissipates nine times out of ten these days.

‘Oh, how I’ve longed to make the power of the Keyblade my own’ indeed. I take it back, they’re not worth the trouble! At least his scythe is ever-ready and faithful, and that’s probably three-fifths the problem, he supposes. He sighs. In the back of his mind, Larxene laughs at him again. Drama queen.

He spends a few more minutes spying on the battle below, but then remembers that he doesn’t want to risk being seen and ducks out of sight. He ends up sitting with his back against the stone wall, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed elegantly at the ankle, head tilted back to contemplate the sky overhead. It’s the clear blue of a perfect summer’s day, a different hue altogether to the pre-dawn sky of Daybreak Town. It’s already starting to get hot, and unlike Daybreak Town, there’s no sea breeze to cool things off; it seems Aqua had the right of things.

Well, it seems like his thoughts are going to be dwelling on the past whether or not he wants them to, so maybe he should go for broke and address all of them. “Chirithy?” he calls softly, unsure if his old companion will hear him.

There’s a long pause, and then –

“Oh! You actually called for me!”

A small body flips out of the sudden puff of smoke, landing a few feet away. Lauriam stares. Chirithy stares back. There’s a gulf of a thousand years between them, and Lauriam’s not sure how to bridge it.

In the end, it doesn’t matter; Chirithy breaks eye contact first, looking down at the ground. “I – I wasn’t sure if you’d call for me again,” they mumble, twiddling their paws together uncertainly. “You didn’t when you met Ven’s Chirithy again and you’ve been doing so well on your own anyway, so I thought–”

Lauriam blinks. “You’ve been watching me?” Where were you when I was making a million mistakes? How is this doing well?!

Chirithy straightens up, looking shocked. “Of course! I’m always around, in case you call. It’s my job to look after you, after all!” After a moment’s pause to consider this, they wilt. “…Although I guess I didn’t do a very good job of it, after all…” they mumble.

The part of him that’s still Marluxia snarls that’s right, you didn’t! but for once, it’s easy to ignore. Lauriam’s fledgling heart goes out to the dejected-looking Spirit, who is staring back at the ground. “I wouldn’t have listened to you anyway,” he tells Chirithy honestly. “By the end back then, I was too angry and miserable, and then as Marluxia… I had the memories of those feelings, but nothing else.” He sighs. “I’ve not been a good person, Chirithy. Even now, returned to myself, I’m trying but I’m still not, really. If you’ve been there all these years… it must have been hard, watching everything I did.”

Chirithy peeks up at him. “You weren’t,” they agree, and – ouch. It’s the truth, but that doesn’t make it sting any less. “But you didn’t have your heart or your memories at the time and now… like you said, you’re trying, and that’s the main thing, you know? That’s what I meant when I said you were doing so well – I know it doesn’t feel like it to you, but you’ve been trying so hard and you’re improving so much! A heart’s a complicated thing to relearn from scratch!”

Lauriam laughs bitterly. “None of the others have that problem. They’ve all picked up the knack right away.” Except maybe Larxene, but unlike Lauriam, she’s not trying to recapture who she used to be. “Why is it just me?” It comes out a little more plaintively than he’d like, but it’s an honest question. Roxas and Xion hadn’t even had hearts to start with, and they were doing fine! What’s wrong with me?

Chirithy looks thoughtful, putting a paw to their chin. “It’s because you’re trying to balance being two different people, probably?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you were Lauriam, of Daybreak Town,” Chirithy tries to explain, holding up one paw in example. “You had memories, and a personality, and a heart. And then you lost all that, and became Marluxia,” Chirithy raises the other paw, “and you had nothing to start from – no heart, no memories, just a lot of negative feelings that you didn’t even understand. So when you started to grow a new heart, it was like being a new person.” They brought their paws together. “Then you joined together again – twice! – and for everyone else, they had memories to build their new hearts from, so they weren’t that different; they just had to slot their new memories and feelings back into their old selves. They didn’t have to change that much. Or they just never had an old self to slot into, so their new heart was their whole self. But you had Lauriam, and Marluxia, who are two completely different hearts on many levels, so when you try to combine them…” Chirithy drops their paws, letting them dangle glumly. “Well, it’s no wonder you’re having problems trying to slot them together. It’s hard work.” They straighten up, waving arms in agitation. “But don’t let that discourage you! Like I said, you’re doing a great job!”

Lauriam groans, burying his face in his hands. “Why is this all such a bother?” It sounds plausible enough to be the truth, which is the most irritating thing. He’s such a melodramatic fool that he gave himself two incompatible hearts! No wonder my Keyblade’s having trouble forming; how’s it supposed to know what it is if I don’t even know who I am?

“I’m sorry,” Chirithy says sadly, shuffling a little in place. And that’s – not right either.

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” Lauriam says gently. He hesitates for a moment and then tentatively spreads his arms a little, silently inviting Chirithy in if the Spirit wants. It’s been a long time, after all, and he’s left Chirithy on their own for so long. He wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want anything to do with him –

“Oh, Lauriam!” The speed with which the little Spirit throws themselves into his arms warms his mismatched heart, even if it baffles him to no end. Lauriam looks down at Chirithy with wide eyes, stunned at the easy forgiveness, and belatedly remembers to wrap his arms around the little Spirit’s back to return the hug. Chirithy buries their head against his shirt, sniffling loudly, and he feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart. Without needing to think, his arms tighten around Chirithy – almost too tight, really, but Chirithy makes no complaints, just squeezes him back just as hard – and he rests his cheek on the top of Chirithy’s head, the Spirit’s fur soft against his skin. He’s missed this too, he realises with surprise, although a lot of his memories of the past are still hazy and distant. Chirithy’s unconditional love and support had always been a comfort to him. Marluxia wouldn’t have been able to appreciate this, he thinks, closing his eyes. A heart’s a heavy burden, but I’m indeed fortunate to have mine back.

“If anything, I should be the one apologising,” Lauriam says eventually, drawing back and setting Chirithy on his lap. Chirithy looks about to protest, but he lays a hand on their head to forestall the argument. “Thank you for not giving up on me,” he says instead and smiles warmly, rubbing a thumb at the base of one of Chirithy’s ears. Chirithy ducks their head, bashful, but Lauriam can see how they practically vibrate with happiness. Whatever he might think of who and what he is, Chirithy is happy to know him.

“So, what have you been up to?” he asks lightly, and hides a smile as Chirithy practically lights up to tell him about all the exploring they’ve done around the Land of Departure with Ven’s Chirithy. As the Spirit chatters happily away, Lauriam idly plucks at some nearby flowers, starting to weave together a flower crown as he listens. It gives his hands something to do, and besides, it feels wrong to see Chirithy’s head so woefully bare of the flowers Lauriam remembers that he used to gift him all the time. He finishes just as the little Spirit winds to a close on his story, and carefully slips it onto Chirithy’s head. “There you go,” he says with satisfaction.

Chirithy’s eyes shine as they reach up to touch the flower crown gently. “Oh, thank you!”

“Just like old times, hm?” Lauriam smiles. “I’ll find some better flowers to make you a proper one, later. I’m sure Terra would let me steal some from his garden.”

Chirithy nods. “Terra’s nice like that.”

He wants to ask how in the world Chirithy knows that, but the Spirit had said they’d been watching, hadn’t they? He knows he’s seen Ven’s Chirithy around, a lot more than he ever did back in Daybreak Town. It doesn’t really matter, anyway. Terra is nice like that, and so Lauriam will pilfer some flowers at the earliest opportunity. Besides, it’s only fair considering he’s been helping out with it since he’s been here.

Lauriam leans back against the stone wall, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. “So you like living here, then?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Chirithy hums. “It’s a little lonelier than Daybreak Town, but it’s still beautiful.”

“Mm, I know what you mean,” Lauriam replies absently. A whole world – a small world, to be sure, but still a whole world, and only four people in it. Six, if they counted the Chirithies. “You don’t mind if I stay a little longer then, do you?”

“My home is with you,” Chirithy tells him, serious enough that it draws Lauriam’s attention. “I don’t mind where we are, as long as I’m with you.” Lauriam blinks down at Chirithy, unsure how to process such a declaration. Chirithy looks up at him, head tilted in curiosity. “Is this gonna be your new home?”

Well, that’s a bit of a loaded question, Lauriam thinks wryly. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

He doesn’t really have a home anymore. Daybreak Town no longer exists; for that matter, neither does Castle Oblivion or the Castle That Never Was, not that he’d have called either of those places ‘home’. He’s technically a vagabond, as ironic as that is; no home, no purpose. The only thing holding him here is Terra, and to a lesser extent Ven, and his promise to help him find the other Union leaders. Neither of those things are stable enough to build a life on. Does that really make this place a home? Can he risk it?

He’s a transient soul, but then again, this is a transient world, one meant to be a waypoint on one’s journey. It was even there in the name: Land of Departure.

Even so, Lauriam thinks that maybe, he’d like to stay.

“It feels familiar,” he murmurs, the only explanation he’s comfortable with sharing.

Chirithy nods sagely. “That makes sense, I guess,” they reply, paw to chin in thought. “When Brain made Scala out of Daybreak Town’s remains, this world was one of the pieces that broke off in the process. It’s not Daybreak Town by any means, but it’s still got a bit of its resonance, you know?”

Lauriam nods absently, before Chirithy’s words sink in. “Brain made – what?!” he sputters, jerking upright so abruptly that Chirithy tumbles off his lap. “What do you mean, ‘Brain made Scala out of Daybreak’s remains’?!”

“Exactly that?” Chirithy replies from their sprawled position, looking confused.

“What’s Scala?!”

“Scala ad Caelum,” Chirithy replies, frowning up at him. “Did you not read any of the books in the library here? Terra and Ven’s master trained there.”

“Books were Brain’s thing, not mine,” Lauriam mutters, feeling Chirithy’s silent judgement. “Brain made it?” he asked again, mind reeling at the thought. “An entire world?”

“Well, he didn’t start from scratch,” Chirithy reminds him. “More like… rebuilt?”

“Rebuilt…” There was a strange new feeling in his chest that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he rubbed at it. My Dandelions will fly to a new world, and there collect the light, so that we can rebuild this world to return to. Master Ava’s words, from so long ago…

Lauriam started to chuckle, then threw his head back and laughed loudly. “That lazy bastard, he actually went and did it!” But then again, that was completely Brain’s style, wasn’t it? “Solving everyone’s problems as always…” His laughter dies downs into silent wheezing, his whole body shaking, and with a start Lauriam realises that there are tears streaming down his cheeks. He touches his cheek with a shaky hand, fingers coming away wet. “Why…?”

“The heart’s a complicated thing,” Chirithy says wisely, patting his arm. “You can be glad and sad at the same time… it’s confusing.”

Lauriam chuckles wetly, wiping his cheeks with his hands. “I just – I knew that we must have succeeded, or the worlds wouldn’t exist now, but I never thought – he really did it. We did it.” He smiles, tight and grim. “Well, not me. I was – too worried about Strelitzia and then – too angry about Ven, and Darkness. I didn’t do anything as a Union leader, and even less in the future.” He was feeling – proud? Marluxia had been proud, overly so; he’d carried that right across into his new existence. But that was self-pride; this was… pride in his friends, for their achievements, fondness welling up and overflowing this newborn heart of his. He wanted to see them all again, tell them he was sorry, tell them how proud he was of all of them. Maybe shake Brain a bit for having the audacity to make an entire goddamn world. He must have stayed behind in the past and let the rest of them go on ahead. How dare he do something so dangerous, so sacrificing? “I want to see them again, Chirithy,” he confesses, looking up at that clear summer-blue sky. “I was mostly humouring Ven before; I didn’t think we’d be able to find any of them. But I’m going to find Strelitzia and bring her back so… what’s a few more impossible goals?”

“That’s the spirit!” cheered Chirithy. “Are… are you okay, though?”

Lauriam smiles up at the sky, razor-sharp and already scheming. “I will be,” he promises. I’m going to find Strelitzia and the others and bring them all home. There’s hope for the first time ever alongside his desperation to see Strelitzia again. “Maybe not right away, but… eventually.” He’s still not entirely stable – his wavering Keyblade is testament to that – but one thing he’s always had in spades is the audacity to aim high and the willpower to follow through. If Brain could rebuild an entire world, then who’s to say Lauriam can’t bring his sister back?

Chirithy crawls back into his lap as he starts plotting, ticking off connections on his fingers. “We’ve got myself, Ven and Larxene already… Isa and – ugh, Axel maybe have a lead on Skuld, and we’ve finally got one on Brain. So that leaves… Ephemer, and… Strelitzia.” His heart clenches at the reminder that he’s still so far away from seeing his sister again, but he soldiers on. “Skuld’s…. more likely to be reachable, if those two actually did meet her ten years ago, but if we can get Brain here, he can help us figure out how to find the others.” He taps fingers against his lower lip, thinking. “Nearly everyone else is still looking for leads on Sora but… that’s not my concern at the moment. If we can get them to keep an eye out for Skuld on their search too, that’s a few extra eyes, at least.”

Larxene had promised her help in finding Strelitzia, but she’d made it clear it didn’t really extend to the others. Still, finding the others would put them closer to finding Strelitzia, so if he could spin it that way… maybe he’d ask her to help look for Skuld; if Brain was in the past that meant, ugh, research, which was not Larxene’s forte. Still, he’d sifted through the entire data backup of the Dandelions on his first search for Strelitzia, so scouring history books for information on Brain surely had to be slightly less arduous.

He smirks. Just a vagabond; no home, no purpose… but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find himself a home, or give himself a purpose. He looks down at his hands. “I’ll need to talk to Ven, so we can –”

His thoughts crash to a halt. Ven, who he really doesn’t want to see looking like a younger version of himself if Aqua manages to find him –

“Argh, Ven,” he says ineloquently, fingers clenching in his hair.

Chirithy perks up in alarm. “What about Ven? What’s wrong?”

“He’s – if he – I can’t –” Lauriam jerkily gestures at his hair in disgust, frustrated at his inability to make a sentence despite his usual eloquence. ‘Please don’t get a haircut, Ventus, I’m not emotionally stable enough to deal with you looking like you did back in Daybreak Town, dealing with my own is bad enough.’ Even just thinking it shreds his pride to pieces, but he can’t risk lashing out at Ven if his memories get jumbled again. “It’s too –” He cuts off again, words strangling in his throat, and he growls in frustration, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Lauriam, it’s okay, I get it, I understand,” Chirithy says worriedly, reaching up to pat at his face. Their ears twitch rapidly in agitation. “You gotta calm down, okay? Breathe. You don’t want him to cut his hair, right? I understand. I’ll tell Chirithy, they can pass it on. Ven’ll understand, he’s a good kid.” Lauriam nods at this, throat still too tight to talk. “We should probably warn him about how you look too, memories go both ways after all…” Chirithy muses. Lauriam hadn’t even considered that; that Ven might take one look at him like this and remember every bad memory he had of Lauriam. He shudders. Chirithy must notice because the patting against his cheek increases in tempo. “Hey, it’s okay! We’ll sort it out, okay? Leave it to us!”

Lauriam nods again – he trusts Chirithy to take care of it, that’s not the issue – and draws a deep, shuddering breath, trying to will his pounding heart back into some semblance of normality. “That’s it,” Chirithy encourages with audible relief. “In and out, steady as she goes.”

He snorts – very inelegantly, but it’s not like there’s anyone else around to see him right now – and follows his Spirit’s murmured instructions until his breathing starts to even out again. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters to himself. Panic attacks are not a good look on him. He’s foolishly glad that only Chirithy was around to see him like this – the Spirit’s already seen him through every high and low, so he doesn’t feel the need to try and maintain an image.

“Feeling better now?” Chirithy asks, squishing his cheeks with both paws to get his attention. Ah yes, that’s probably another reason why he doesn’t bother keeping up a false front – Chirithy wouldn’t pay attention to it anyway. Lauriam narrows his eyes at Chirithy in annoyance and grips their small paws gently but firmly, freeing his face from their hold. Chirithy just blinks up at him, all earnest concern, and he softens with a sigh. Since when did he become surrounded by people too kind for their own good?

“Yes,” he replies simply, and leans forward to press a kiss to the top of Chirithy’s head, just above their flower crown. “Much better, thank you.”

Chirithy blushes and ducks their head, their ears twitching back and forth. “You’re welcome,” they mumble, and Lauriam can’t help but smile at the sight. He remembers Chirithy being much more confident in receiving praise – he’s not sure if that was Chirithy mirroring him, the way Brain had seemed to think they did – but he supposes it’s been a long, long time since Chirithy has heard any words of kindness, especially from him. He grimaces a bit at that, reaches out to scratch behind Chirithy’s ear in another comforting gesture, and grimaces again, this time at himself. I’m going soft.

Still, he was beginning to think that maybe it was okay to be a little bit soft, that maybe that’s what came hand in hand with caring about things again. Larxene was wrong about that. He’d been razor-sharp during his time as a Nobody the way she had been prickly – because they hadn’t cared about anyone but themselves and hadn’t cared to care. But there was value in letting people in, in softening his edges. Daybreak Town’s Lauriam had managed it, although he’d been losing it by the end of things. He couldn’t be that Lauriam again, but if he was going to bring Strelitzia back – and he would, the second he figured out how nothing would stop him – then he owed it to her to learn how to be softer again. He refused to bring her back to a world where he was as unknown to her as everything else.

His thoughts are going around in circles once again. Lauriam sighs, brushing the ends of his hair. His neck feels so empty now; it makes him feel vulnerable.

“It really does look good, you know,” Chirithy comments, watching him toy with the strands. “And it’ll be nice and cool for the summer!” They sigh, whole body drooping. “At least you can get a haircut, I’m stuck with all this fur in the heat.”

They look so dejected for a moment that Lauriam can’t help but lean over and scratch through said fur gently in an attempt at comfort, even as he chuckles lightly. “Poor Chirithy! Maybe we should have gone to Arendelle for the summer instead.”

“Brr! No, that’s way too cold,” Chirithy retorts, shivering a little. They flop over his legs, and he settles a hand on their back. “It’s okay, I’ll manage,” they reassure him, closing their eyes. “Like I said, it’s nice here. And the people here are nice too. It’s good for you.”

Before Lauriam can express his doubts – and he has a lot of them – Chirithy perks up, ears wriggling as they listen to something Lauriam can’t hear. “Someone’s coming!” they announce. “I’ll go talk to Chirithy and Ven now, they should be free. I think they’re finished training for the day.”

Lauriam’s brows draw together. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? I can introduce you, that way you don’t have to be invisible so much.” There’s only so many people it could be coming up the stairs, here in this world. Plus, you deserve some attention after I’ve neglected you for so long, and I know for certain that Terra at least will spoil you rotten, if the fond way he greets Ven’s Chirithy is any indication.

Chirithy shakes their head. “No, it’s okay. Introductions later! I don’t want to intrude!” They disappear with a flip and a puff of smoke before Lauriam can press further.

His ears finally pick up the sound of boots on stone that Chirithy had noticed. He recognises the tread, and Chirithy’s parting words make a bit more sense as Terra rounds the corner to the courtyard. He lights up when he spots Lauriam sitting against the stone wall, something that sparks a bright warmth in Lauriam’s chest, and bounds up the last few steps with an unfair amount of energy for someone who has spent the last hour chasing someone around with a Keyblade. “I thought I spied you up here before,” Terra calls with a grin, making his way over. He stops in front of Lauriam’s outstretched feet, folding his arms and attempting to look sternly down at him. “Skipping out of training again, are you?” He nudges one of Lauriam’s feet with his boot.

“Not at all,” Lauriam replies smoothly, refraining from pointing out that it’s a free day, he doesn’t have training to do. He smiles up at the younger man. “Simply enjoying the sunshine…” his smile widens, looking Terra over, “…and the view.” He throws in a wink for good measure, because Terra is a loveable oaf who nonetheless sometimes completely misses his flirts. Also, sometimes it’s just incredibly amusing.

Terra, already losing the fight between looking stern and fond, blinks for a moment as he processes that, and then to Lauriam’s immense satisfaction, blushes a pretty shade of brilliant red. Lauriam’s smile becomes a smirk as Terra looks off to the side with an inarticulate sound, rubbing the side of his neck bashfully.

“Help me up,” Lauriam demands, holding out a hand. He’s only a few inches taller than Terra – less if he’s being honest and not wearing his boots – but from down here Terra looms like a mountain. Lauriam would prefer to continue this conversation at a height that doesn’t give him a crick in his neck.

Regaining his composure, Terra offers his hand with a small bow and a sweet smile. He’s not wearing his armour today, forearms bare. Lauriam accepts, and lets Terra haul him to his feet. He marvels a little at the ease at which the other man achieves this, but it makes sense – Terra is strong, and trains every day to that end, unlike himself who prefers not to waste the energy. He’s a little glad that Terra had still been fairly rusty when they fought at the Graveyard all those months ago – he might have fared worse than he had otherwise.

Once he’s steady on his feet, he drops Terra’s hand in favour of brushing away loose leaves and dirt from his clothes. There’s a soft noise of surprise from Terra’s direction, and Lauriam looks at him questioningly. The look on Terra’s face is so utterly, terribly fond that Lauriam’s fledgling heart squeezes in his chest, freezing him in place as Terra steps closer into his space.

“I see Aqua found you,” the other man says, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. The words make no sense, distracted as Lauriam is by that unbearably fond smile. He almost wants to shake Terra, for being fool enough to offer so much to him of all people when he should be protecting his heart –

Terra’s fingers brush his cheek before tugging gently on a lock of hair hanging beside his face. “Cute,” the other man announces, grinning brightly at him. “You look younger.”

Ugh, he’d almost managed to forget about his light-forsaken haircut. “I,” he says archly, Terra’s fingers weaving into his hair to cradle his face and guide him down into a kiss, soft and gentle and just as fond as his smile. “Am not cute,” he finishes when they break apart, breathing the words across Terra’s lips. Terra makes a noise somewhere between conciliatory agreement and strong amusement, and Lauriam’s eyes narrow. “Handsome, yes, attractive–”

“– and cute,” Terra cuts in, eyes sparkling with amusement, and kisses him again before Lauriam can argue. Lauriam finds he minds being cut off less than he should, eyes slipping shut as he presses back against the other man, his hands coming to rest on Terra’s hips.

This time when they break apart, Lauriam draws back further to put himself out of retaliatory kiss territory and narrows his eyes at Terra dangerously. “You’re incredibly lucky I like you,” he informs the other man, who looks entirely too pleased with himself.

“Yup!” Terra agrees easily, the lack of hesitation in his answer throwing Lauriam off for a moment. His fingers tighten on the other’s hips but Terra doesn’t seem to notice, too enthralled with Lauriam’s new look; cupping Lauriam’s face with both hands to gently turn his head this way and that, examining the shortened strands. “It looks good on you,” Terra tells him, sounding sincere. “Softens your face a bit.”

Lauriam stares down at him, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “I wasn’t aware my face needed ‘softening’.”

“It does when you spend half your time glaring at everything around you,” Terra points out, and right on cue, Lauriam glares at him. It predictably has zero effect; months of his presence has made Terra too used to him now – he just laughs, using his thumb to smooth away the crease between Lauriam’s brows before he moves away, taking a seat against the low stone wall. The absence of Terra’s warmth leaves Lauriam’s face feeling cold; somewhere out in the worlds, Larxene is cackling at how far he’s fallen. “Summer’s coming up, you’ll appreciate it then,” Terra informs him. “Summer here is –”

“Hot, yes,” Lauriam finishes. “I know, Aqua told me when she cornered me earlier.”

Terra winces faintly. “She didn’t actually corner you, did she?”

Lauriam shrugs, perching on the rim of the stone wall beside Terra, close enough for their arms to press together and crossing his legs at the ankle. “She did… but it was for a good cause,” he allows. Not one he ever cares to repeat, however. He’ll sweat through the summer if he has to, dignity be dammed. Terra still looks vaguely worried, eyeing him out of the corner of his eye, and Lauriam smiles. The concern is sweet, as much as he doesn’t want Terra to go defending him to Aqua. Lauriam can fight his own battles but he’s still getting used to the feeling of being cared about. “I gave my permission,” he reassures the other man, faintly amused. “She didn’t threaten me into the chair, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Hard to tell sometimes, with you two,” Terra mutters. Lauriam isn’t sure if Terra meant for him to hear it or not. However, his reassurances seem to have worked since Terra relaxes, leaning back a bit on one hand to pull down one of his own bangs for inspection with the other. “Suppose I’m due for one too,” he muses, looking thoughtful.

Given that Terra’s hair is much thinner and much more manageable than his own hair, Lauriam highly doubts this, but who is he to protest? The thought of Terra with shorter hair is much more amusing than the thought of Ven. Chirithy said he’d take care of it, Lauriam reminds himself, so just enjoy the moment. The part of him that remains Marluxia sneers at the idea of trusting the Spirit. We’ve trusted people before and look where that got us – stabbed in the back at every turn.

“Well, Ven can be her next victim,” Terra decides, breaking Lauriam’s train of thought. He stretches his legs out, matching Lauriam’s pose. “I’m happy just to stay here for a while, if you don’t mind me intruding on your photosynthesizing.” The grin he shoots Lauriam is bright and hopeful.

Lauriam snorts. “If you’ve truly got nothing better to do, I suppose,” he replies idly, hiding the pleasure the words bring close to his heart. Either he fails miserably, or Terra’s just learned to read him better – and strangely, the thought of being known doesn’t bring quite as much panic as it usually does – because Terra isn’t fazed by the lacklustre phrasing in the least.

If anything, his grin somehow gets impossibly brighter. “Nope,” Terra agrees easily, tilting his face up to the sun and closing his eyes, basking in the sunlight. Lauriam finds himself staring at the content expression on his companion’s face, long dark lashes fluttering against skin just starting to take on a summer tan. That immense fondness wells up in his fledgling heart yet again and for once, Lauriam is content to just bask in it. Terra’s arm presses against his, warmth radiating through the thin material of his shirt; Lauriam focuses on that warmth, using it to ground himself in the present. This isn’t the past, this isn’t Daybreak Town, and no matter how much he looks it now, he’s not the same person he once was.

Terra’s eyes open, and he glances over at Lauriam. If he notices his preoccupation, he thankfully doesn’t mention it. “Who were you talking to, when I came up?” he asks instead, curious.

“Hm?” Lauriam asks, only half listening. He’s followed Terra’s example, eyes slipping shut and face tilted up to soak up the sun – photosynthesising, as Terra constantly jokes.

Terra nudges him with his elbow. “I thought I heard voices when I was coming up the stairs, but no one else was here,” he explains.

“Oh,” Lauriam says, realisation kicking in. He opens his eyes again to find Terra looking at him, a small, fond smile curving his lips. He looks away, more flustered than he’d like to admit. What had Terra asked again? “Uh, Chirithy.”

“Oh, the little guy?” Terra says, brightening. Lauriam is confused – he hasn’t even introduced them yet? – until he realises that Terra must think he means Ven’s Chirithy, who has certainly met both of Ven’s best friends by now. He’s seen Terra talk to Ven’s Chirithy, come to think of it.

He briefly debates letting Terra continue to think that – there’s no harm in it, and he really doesn’t feel like explaining his past again, especially now of all times – but he had told Chirithy he’d introduce them eventually, hadn’t he?

Lauriam sighs. “My Chirithy,” he clarifies. “Not Ven’s.”

Terra’s brows furrow in confusion. “You have one too?” he asks. Lauriam braces for the inevitable slew of questions to follow, but Terra manages to surprise him, eyes lighting up with understanding before the other man laughs. “Oh yeah! Sometimes I forget that you’re both from the past.”

It’s a measure of how surreal all of their lives are that Terra can say this like it’s something normal. Normally this would amuse him greatly, but it’s been a day of bitter thoughts so far, and Lauriam finds his mouth twisting down in a frown. “Sometimes, I wish I could,” he mutters, fingers curling against his stone seat.

Terra looks at him, a long, appraising look. There’s understanding there, surprising Lauriam once again. “Ah, like that, is it?” Terra murmurs, tilting his head.

Lauriam’s breath rushes out of him in a sigh, and his shoulders slump. Seems like he can’t keep running away from his thoughts forever, as much as he’d like to. “Things were – easier,” he admits, clasping his fingers together in his lap, running a thumb over the other in agitation. “Though I suppose deep down, I didn’t feel any less lost before than I do now. Sometimes it’s almost a curse, to have my heart and memories back.”

Terra’s hand covers his own, squeezing gently in support. Lauriam immediately disentangles his fingers to lace them with Terra’s instead. His free hand rises to play with the freshly-cut ends of his hair yet again. “I’ve no complaints about Aqua’s skill in the slightest, but…” His mouth turns down in a grimace, staring down at their clasped hands. The confession is lodged in his throat, refusing to lay itself out for Terra’s scrutiny. Light, he must be more attached to Terra than he thought, if he so desperately doesn’t want Terra to think badly of him! Lauriam grits his teeth and forces the words out. “Having my hair life this…  it’s like looking back across a thousand years to the Lauriam of Daybreak Town and that’s – that’s just not who I am anymore. I can’t be that person.” His eyes squeeze shut. “I just feel like a fraud.”

Both his pride and his eyes sting at the admission and Lauriam resolutely doesn’t open his eyes. Terra’s abysmal at hiding his emotions; Lauriam doesn’t want to see that smile lose its fondness at finding out just how fake his heart actually is. Still, that doesn’t make the wait any easier, long seconds ticking past in silence. A small corner of his heart ignites in frustration, but before it can build into a blaze, it’s swiftly dampened by the reassuring brush of Terra’s thumb across their clasped hands.

“I understand how you feel,” Terra says slowly. “I’ve felt that way myself. But, Lauriam – no-one’s asking you to be the version of yourself from the past. Part of life is growing and changing – Ven’s the only one here who knew you back then, and not even he’s the same as he was in Daybreak Town, I’m sure of it. The Lauriam you are today is just as good, you know?” He turns his head to meet Lauriam’s wide-eyed stare, and beams, unfairly radiant. “I rather like the guy, myself.”

Lauriam snorts, feeling the corners of his eyes prickle with potential tears. “You’re an absolute sap,” he accuses with absolutely no heat whatsoever, and tilts his face up obligingly for Terra’s kiss.

Terra hums against his lips, agreeing without a trace of shame. It’s enough to make Lauriam’s lips curl into a smile, his partner’s ridiculousness overshadowing any of his own self-depreciating thoughts. Who I am today is just as good, hm? What a concept. He’s not sure yet if he agrees but… it’s nice to know that someone believes in him. Even if that person is his oaf of a partner and is incredibly biased.

He follows when Terra starts to pull back, chasing those lips for another kiss, fingers curling against the nape of Terra’s neck to stop him from so rudely leaving again. He claims his prize, but it’s sloppy because Terra is too busy silently laughing at him, and Lauriam makes an annoyed noise deep in his throat to demand proper attention. Still grinning, Terra obliges.

If there’s one advantage to living on a world with three other people, it’s that making out without interruption is a lot easier. On the other hand, there’s surely more comfortable places to make out than perched on a stone wall with one’s back to a fifty-meter drop and so Lauriam reluctantly pulls away after several much more satisfactory kisses. Terra drops one last feather-light kiss against his nose; Lauriam wrinkles it, making an incredibly unimpressed face at the other man once his eyes are open, but Terra just looks far too satisfied with himself. 

He gives a surreptitious glance around to make sure he hasn’t encouraged the local plant life into growing too wildly – a few flowers have sprouted by his boots, but he intends to pretend they were there before the kissing started or else he’ll never live it down. Lauriam shifts, leaning against Terra and letting his head rest against brown hair with a sigh. He doesn’t let go of Terra’s hand, but Terra doesn’t seem to mind, instead stroking his thumb up and down their clasped fingers absently. Lauriam closes his eyes, content to just sit here with the sun warm overhead and Terra’s warmth radiating against his side.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Terra says idly a few minutes later, when Lauriam is comfortably close to falling asleep, “you didn’t see how much I freaked out when I found a silver hair a few months ago, after I got my body back.”

It takes Lauriam a few moments to process the words, dragging himself out of his unchained state. He frowns. “Why would you…?” He trails off, memories starting to surface. Silver hair. Yellow eyes. Terra-Xehanort… of course. If seeing myself with short hair threw me for such a loop, being reminded of the time I spent possessed would be… unpleasant. “Ah.”

“Yeah,” Terra agrees wryly. He rubs the back of his neck tiredly. “Hope I get over that before I go naturally grey, or I’m gonna have to start avoiding mirrors like a vampire or something.”

Lauriam laughs. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He turns his head to press a kiss against Terra’s temple. “We really make quite the pair, don’t we,” he muses. Terra makes a noise of agreement. Lauriam smirks at a sudden thought. “You could always dye it pink like mine, if that happens,” he suggests. “We could match.” He’s never met anyone else with hair the same shade as his in this era, but he’s willing to give up his uniqueness for the sheer amusement of the idea. He suspects that Terra might even actually look good with it.

Terra bursts into startled laughter, shoulders shaking against Lauriam’s arm. “That’s terrifying!”

“What, the couple look, or just the thought of yourself with pink hair?” Lauriam asks, smirk growing.

“Yes.”

Lauriam laughs, the last dregs of his earlier panic finally washing away and leaving him feeling light. He straightens, releasing Terra’s hand in favour of scrubbing palms over his face as his laughter dies down into giggles.

“Feeling better?” Terra asks.

“Much, thank you,” Lauriam replies, letting his hands fall into his lap. A hand touches his cheek and he looks at Terra questioningly. Terra studies him for a moment, hand hovering near his ear.

“Let me –?”

Lauriam nods his permission, although he has no idea what he’s allowing. He’s hoping for another kiss, but Terra merely combs his fingers through Lauriam’s hair. It feels almost as nice as being kissed, anyway, and Lauriam lets his eyes fall shut.  It’s not until Terra gathers his hair up in both hands and then ‘hrms’ when half of it falls out of his grip that Lauriam realises what he’s actually doing.

“It’ll grow out,” he says, opening his eyes to see Terra frowning in concentration as he tries again to gather Lauriam’s hair in a ponytail. “Eventually.” The thought was sweet, at least. He sighs. “I’m glad I won’t have to deal with it in the heat but… I’m not doing this again.”

“Hrm,” Terra says again, although he finally gives up on the attempt as a lost cause and cups Lauriam’s face instead. “If it really does bother you, you could do something to change it,” he suggests. When Lauriam raises his eyebrows sceptically – wasn’t that how this whole mess started? – Terra elaborates, “To make it different from how it looked in the past, as well.” He smooths his thumbs over Lauriam’s cheekbones as he thinks. “You could always dye it brown –”

“– how plebian –”

Terra grins. “– or you could pin it back or something, since tying it up doesn’t work. Pierce your ears.” His thumbs rub over Lauriam’s earlobes in demonstration. “Just – something to make it different enough that it stops throwing you off so much until it grows back.”

Lauriam hums thoughtfully. Some of the ideas have merit, though he refuses point-blank to dye his hair. “Thank you,” he tells Terra.

“Happy to help,” Terra replies cheerfully. The sudden twinkle in his eye gives Lauriam a split-second warning. “Besides, no matter what,” Terra continues, grinning widely, “you’ll always –”

“Don’t you dare –”

“– look just as cute –”

Lauriam lunges for him and Terra dodges sideways, rumbling with laughter. His dodge rolls him off the stone wall into the courtyard grass and somehow, he manages to drag a startled Lauriam with him. When the world stops spinning, Lauriam finds himself on his back amidst the grass, staring up at Terra who is leaning over him, hands planted firmly either side of Lauriam’s head.

“Hey,” says Terra.

Lauriam snickers. “Really?”

Terra grins and reaches out to brush a stray leaf from Lauriam’s hair. “You really do look cute like this though,” he says, a wistful expression on his face.

“Shut up and kiss me,” Lauriam demands, scowling up at him. He’s not cute!

“Yes, sir,” Terra laughs, and obliges.

Maybe his haircut wasn’t all bad, if it got him this.