When Riku stepped through the door, he felt the warm winds rush his face and the warm feelings rush his heart. But the small nostalgic smile was short-lived. Every whiff of ocean air, every sunbeam, all of it was fake. Comforting as it was, it was just another part of a mousetrap. Still, as he sighed and stepped onto the sand, Riku couldn't help but reminisce at least a little.

The island where they all watched the sunset was there. The boat dock rested peacefully right where it should. Riku walked to the spot where he'd met someone once. He looked across the impression of the ocean and wondered if even in this fake world that something could still reach another world on that water. Or if that world would still be just as fake.

Riku turned to head to the treehouse, seeing a hint of movement disappear inside. Good timing. A moment later, the teen had scaled the ladder and ledges and looked inside. The treehouse was always well-shaded and a few degrees cooler, leaving his eyes to adjust.

Funny. The cloth's sill here. The memory must have been before they were very far on the raft. But that wasn't all that was there. Mao had already arrived.

"Hey." Riku stepped in. The treehouse was smaller than he remembered, but there was still plenty of room. He casually took a seat, leaning his back against a wall and resting his arm on a raised knee.

"...So. Where do we start?" Where ever it was, it wasn't going to be comfortable for either of them, he gathered.