The blue-haired man steeled himself where he stood as he heard the approaching footsteps. He had known that it wouldn't be long until this talk would arise; had expected that his old friend wouldn't take long to have his doubts. Steadily-paced footsteps drew to a halt and the two stood in silence, neither of them wishing to instigate the inevitable conversation that was to follow. Saïx took the moment to take a quick glance out the window at Kingdom Hearts, feeling some of its power rush into his body; he would need energy for the approaching situation.

Never one to keep quiet, Axel spoke first.

"You're sure things are better this way?" he asked, his voice plagued with doubt. Saïx couldn't help himself from taking a few seconds to mentally call the man a fool for asking such a question, before answering.

"I never expected you to question it." He said, voice laced with an accusatory tone. He turned his upper body so that he could see Number VIII's shock of red-hair in his peripheral vision. "If you could save one of them, why would you choose the puppet?"

Axel grunted, his eyes narrowing in a pained expression. Saïx quickly decided that the other man had been spending far too much time with Number XIII if he was mimicking such emotions, before carrying on with his tirade.

"Or put it this way; who would you rather suffer the loss of:" –at this, he turned to face Axel fully, letting his arms fall from their folded position to hang limply by his sides – "some make-believe friendship, or a real one?" He brought his amber eyes up to meet with the green ones of his old friend, hoping he was getting his real question across. Who will it be VIII; the neophytes, or me?

Saïx could see Axel desperately trying to maintain eye-contact, before his expression grew ever-more sour and he directed his eyes to the floor. VII couldn't help but let a small sigh escape him. I should have known.

He walked past the red-head, steps heavy with what he could only describe as an imitation of anger. He internally scolded himself for falling into Axel's bad habits; for stooping to so childish a level as to imitate the characteristics that his old friend seemed to find so appealing; for trying, in vain, to win over his only friend even though all hope was lost years ago, along with his home, identity and heart.

"Things are finally right again." He found himself saying, any fake emotion he had 'felt' gone without a trace. "Of course we're better off this way. Xemnas" – Look, Axel; there are people who care for me yet. I don't need you! (lies) – "is exasperated from all the fixing we've had to do."

Eyes narrowed, he turned to face Axel fully in one last begrudging (desperate) bid to win him over. He waited a few seconds, to see if Axel would turn to listen to him properly, though the man remained as stubborn as ever.

"We have to set things straight." –please, Axel, just listen to me this once! – "There is simply too much on the line…" – you would really throw away all we had for a worthless boy and puppet? –

"Lea."

VIII remained very still for what felt, to Saïx, like hours, though was really only seconds. Then with a quick shift of fabric, and one last burning glance to his longest (Now ex-, I suppose) friend, he was gone.

With a laboured sigh, Saïx walked over to the railing and clung to it as though it were his life-force. Never before had he wished for a heart so much than at this moment. He knew that right now he should feel a deep betrayal cutting through his heart (or lack of) like a dagger, should feel an ache where his heart had been ripped from him, should wish to die from the knowledge that he hadn't a friend in the world. But there was none of that. No betrayal, no aches, no wishes to disappear from the universe completely.

Nothing.

He clenched his eyelids shut. The worst thing was that he couldn't even be annoyed at his lack of emotions. Pathetic. He pushed himself off the barrier and carried on the way he had started before Lea (Axel, he reminded himself firmly) had come along.

The only way he would feel, truly feel, would be if he attained his heart again. And the only way through which he could do that was work. And work he would.