for -- Silver Moon Droplet's challenge.
prompt -- it had to be a friendship fic. Everything else was up to moi, so I based it on the prompts, "changes," "glass," and "sand."
characters -- Kairi, Riku, and Sora. [Kairi's p.o.v. 'cause she's fun when she's angsty!
notes – Focuses on the friendship between Kairi, Sora, && Riku. Set after KH2, with the crew back home at Destiny Islands. Not as long as I had wanted, but I was stuck with Writer's block, and this was done at the last minute, so this is the mediocre result. I kind of like the last bit though. (Writer's Block should just crawl in a hole and die a miserable death.)
disclaimer -- Squenix owns all, yo'. :D Lyrics in the parentheses are from Brandi Carlile's song, "♪Turpentine♫". ☺

»»Mending "We"««
(♪I watch you grow away from me in photographs…♪)

Kairi sighed heavily, taking in everything around her: the warm sand loose between her toes, the warm ocean waves ebbing and flowing along the shore, the seagulls flying overhead in lazy, large open circles, and the salty breeze blowing through her copper hair. She closed her eyes, thinking that maybe, just maybe, if she kept them closed, things would be like they used to. Sora and Riku would be here with her, maybe practicing with toy swords and having races around the island. They'd still be planning their trip to another world, and Sora would probably be off somewhere, getting supplies for the trip (being a lazy bum and sleeping). Riku would be smirking and talking in that cocky tone of his, and she'd be the peacemaker, the referee, the sensible one in their "we".

She remembered going to Twilight Town, and meeting Hayner, Pence, and Olette. She couldn't help but see herself and her boys in them. Hayner was the Twilight Town version of Riku -- the leader, the arrogant and cocky one, the protector. Pence was like Sora in that they both had that kind of smile that made everything seem okay (even when it was not) and those eyes that said, "It's okay, you can trust me!" And in Olette, she saw herself -- calm and collected, sensible, logical, the keeper of two rowdy boys. Hayner, Pence, and Olette made three. They still had their "we", and Kairi couldn't help but feel a little spike of jealousy (that she shouldn't have even been feeling, because wasn't she a Princess of Heart and weren't said Princesses suppose to be kind, caring, and not of the jealous type?) because they still had theirs and her "we" was slowly, but surely, becoming unraveled and torn apart at the seams.

She opened her eyes and found herself alone. No Sora there to give her that heartwarming grin, the one that always made her feel like the world wasn't ending, it was just on vacation. No Riku here to fight off her fears and save her from the "boogeyman." She frowned. Saving her from the "boogeyman" was what started this whole mess. It was what had broken their "we" -- she had lost her heart because she had been weak, Riku had lost his purity because he had tried to save her, and Sora had lost his innocence when he had saved them both from the darkness. They had each lost something during their trip; each had scars they didn't want to talk about. Riku didn't want to talk about the darkness, and she knew for a fact (though he'd never admit to it if she had asked him) that he had begun to sleep with a nightlight, his nightmares proving too horrible even for "big, bad, tough Riku" to handle. Sora had found strength in his travels. He had managed to beat Riku, fought Sephiroth, took out an organization, and saved them (not to mention the countless inhabitants of the other worlds) from the darkness. He had seen war and stared death in the face, and somewhere between their tiny little island and Kingdom Hearts, he had grown into a confident and strong young man. She almost didn't recognize him anymore.

She almost didn't recognize their "we" anymore. She had thought that after coming back, they'd be closer than ever. There would be no secrets; she'd have scars to show them, too. She had pictured Riku saying, "Wow, looks like the Princess has grown up." She would smack him for that (because he would say it in the smug tone he knew she hated), and then Sora would say, "Gees, Kairi, why'd you go and smack Riku for? He was just paying you a compliment." to which she'd have to call him a lazy bum (for old times' sake) and tell him to mind his own business or else she'd hit him, too. But things didn't go like she had hoped for. They were distancing themselves from one another, not growing closer. Their friendship was breaking, and she was the only one who was seeing it. After coming back, Riku and Sora barely talked to each other, and she rarely saw either of them. She was the only one who ventured to the island where they used to play. She was the only one who bothered to try anymore. She was the only one who (seemed to) remembered their "we."

The seagulls had stopped calling, and the night air was dancing in on the waves, but she wasn't ready to go home, not yet. She grasped a handful of sand, watching the grains slip through her delicate fingers and fall back into their place with the others. She liked sand. It was used to make glass, which lead to beautiful vases, roses, and figurines. It was nonconforming, strong and comforting, bending to fit things and situations, ready to accept changes. Once upon a time, they had been sand -- their friendship bending to accept changes, never for the second becoming cracked. Now though, they were like a piece of glass, shattered, and parts of the whole missing. Riku and Sora may have given up. They might have lost hope of finding enough glue to mend them, but she wouldn't. She knew that with time, they'd be able to fit their pieces back together, and maybe what they'd end up with wouldn't be as beautiful as what they had before, with cracks running across the surface and parts of the whole missing, but she knew that with time, they'd paint over those cracks with new laughs and memories. They'd be stronger than before, she knew it. All it would take was a little time and patience, but they'd (she'd) somehow, someway, fix their friendship. They'd (she'd) mend their "we".

She (the mender) headed home.

(♪we're growing up...♪)