Disclaimer: "And we're the kids Who feel like dead ends"
(An: I know there are plenty of gaps in Days to exploit... but the plot is so fucking complicated that I didn't even feel like trying. This was supposed to be for AkuShi day, but... it's not very AkuShi. I apologize.)
The new girl won't speak—not a single word. Instead of introducing herself like a normal person, she takes a piece of paper out of the pouch of her hoodie, her eyes on the ground. Four lower-case letters: xion.
Axel squints at it. Why couldn't Roxas have stuck around to tell him who this weird little kid is? The ice cream stand ain't going anywhere. He sighs and tries to meet the girl's eyes, but she just stares at the ground. Her lips, parted slightly, are the only visible feature under the hem of her hood. "Zion?" he asks.
The girl shakes her head. Those little pink lips tremble for a moment, and the slightest sound emerges: "Shhh."
Axel puts his hands on his hips. Where did Roxas dig this chick up? And for that matter, why did he think he could bring her along? One kid's one thing. He never said he wanted a whole damn orphanage. "What're you shushing me for? This ain't a library, princess, it's a park. I can be as loud as I want."
The girl shakes her head. Those lips tremble again, just once, and then, slowly, she tucks away the paper and brings her hands up to the rim of her hood. She hesitates, and then she pulls it back, revealing a heart-shaped face and huge, frightened blue eyes.
Despite himself, Axel jerks back. For a moment, he sees blonde hair, not black—but she's got a different haircut, and she's paler. He's never seen her before. He forces the startlement back and puts his hands on his hips again. "Well, well. At least you got a face under there. You gonna tell me your name, or are you just gonna say I oughta shut up again?"
The girl shakes her head. What is she so scared of? He thinks he knows that fear; he felt it when he was growing up. Then again, maybe she's just shy. She whispers, "Shi-on. That's my name. That's how you say it."
Axel cocks his head. "Xion, huh?" The name feels weird on his lips, archaic. Then he shrugs and sticks out his hand. "Well, I don't know if Blondie told you anything, but I go by Axel." The girl blinks, staring at his hand. He can't tell if she doesn't understand what he wants or if she's confused by his name. "It ain't what I was born with, okay? You gonna shake, or you just gonna act like a deer in the headlights?"
The girl starts. She lowers one pale hand from her hood and slips it into his, just for a moment. Then she slips back and lets her hood fall over her face again.
O-o-O-o-O
Larxene never mentioned she had a little sister, not that Axel ever asked. It wasn't the kind of relationship where you talked about family; it was the kind where you talked as little as possible. After all, she was desperate, and hot, and hot for him, so why would he ever use his mouth for talking when it could be doing way more interesting things?
Axel had his own place—he'd just turned eighteen when they started... whatever you called it—so they were always going over there anyway. The fuck did he ever need to go to her house for? Wasn't like he actually wanted to know her.
O-o-O-o-O
The girl doesn't hang around long—she's got a real early curfew or something. Axel and Roxas linger out in the park, sitting on the swings like they always do after dark. Now she's gone, Axel can finally ask the questions that have been rattling around in his head since Roxas first brought the girl here. "Where'd you find her?" he asks, backing up on his swing until his feet barely touch the ground.
Roxas shrugs, twisting back and forth. He's got a sort of... dazed look on his face. Has all day. It bothers Axel—he's never seen Roxas look like that before. Kid's too young to be interested in girls. At least, Axel hopes so. Relationships wreck friendships, and Roxas is the only real one he's got.
How old's Roxas now, anyway? Sixteen? Jeeze. It's been a long time.
Roxas lets his swing spin for a minute, looking at the stars. Then he shrugs again. "You know. She goes to my school. I got stuck with her for a project. She's... nice."
Axel nudges a rock out of the dirt with the toe of his boot. "And how would you know, huh? She didn't say a damn word the whole time." She hadn't. Introducing herself seemed to be her limit; after that, she'd kept to nervous nods and shrugs. She hadn't relaxed, not once.
Roxas shrugs again, still looking at the sky. "She talks to me. She's just shy, that's all. She'll warm up to you."
"Who said I ever wanted that?" But Roxas looks at him, and his eyes are so hurt that Axel quickly skids forward so his swing hangs slack, holding up his hands in surrender. "Jeeze, okay. I was just kidding. Friend of yours is a friend of mine, all that bullcrap." Roxas keeps looking at him. Axel sighs and hangs his head. "I mean it, okay? Really. I just ain't used to singing trios, that's all."
Roxas stares at him, and then he shakes his head and starts spinning again. "You say the weirdest stuff, Axel."
O-o-O-o-O
Little as he wanted to do with Larxene when she wasn't on her knees or back, things change when you're having sex with somebody. Girl drove him up the wall—so damn needy, no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise—but they ended up spending most of their time together anyway.
And that was how he ended up going over to her house. It was late, and they were drunk, and his apartment was halfway across town while hers was right there and conveniently empty. Of her parents, at least. When he stumbled down her stairs to take a piss in the middle of the night, he took a wrong turn and ended up in the living room instead of the bathroom.
And there, stretched out across the floor under the light of a tiny lamp, was a girl. She was just a kid—probably Roxas's age—and spread out around her were drawings. So many drawings that, even half-drunk and half-asleep, Axel wondered how she had time to do them all. Three long scratches marred her left cheek, scratches that no doubt match the ones on Axel's back and thighs.
When she saw Axel, she shrieked, of course. He only had his boxers on, and his hair was even wilder than usual. But instead of diving for the pepper spray or the nearest heavy object, she covered her drawings, like it was an instinct that ran even deeper than self-protection.
Axel blinked at her. He hadn't meant to scare her. He tried to find something nice to say, but his mouth was dry from all the booze. Instead, he shrugged at her and walked out. And that was how he met Naminé.
O-o-O-o-O
Xion never takes her hoodie off, even when it's so hot Axel pulls off his shirt and refuses to play basketball with Roxas until it cools the fuck down. At least she's stopped with the silent treatment. She's still no chatterbox, but it's easy enough to make her laugh, and she never skimps when it's her turn to buy them ice cream. Axel's still not happy their twosome's a threesome, but Roxas could've picked worse.
Not that he'll admit he's got a thing for the girl, even though all Axel has to do to make him blush is raise his eyebrows whenever he catches Roxas looking at her.
One of those long summer nights, when Xion is long home, Roxas finally mumbles some kind of a confession. "It's just... she gets me, you know? Like you do. She doesn't have to ask me questions—it's... it's like she already knows everything there is to know about me." Even in the near-dark, Axel can tell Roxas is blushing. "...It's nice."
Axel makes a face at him and calls him a sap, but really, he's never felt so left out in his life.
O-o-O-o-O
Axel knew from the moment he met her that Larxene wasn't nice. Not even a little bit. Her soul was nothing but bitterness and hatred. What little love she had left was so twisted out of true there was no telling what it used to be. She was horrible that way.
Axel didn't care. He just wanted someone to fuck, a warm body to find beside him at night. She could insult him and bitch and whine all she wanted; it didn't matter what she did to him because she didn't matter.
But he was starting to realize he didn't like the thought of her turning that sharp tongue on her little sister. He'd bumped into Naminé a few times after that first meeting, and she'd never gotten any less skittish, even when he came over when it wasn't midnight and he wasn't wasted.
Not for lack of trying on his part. He had a soft spot for kids, and she reminded him of Roxas for some reason. They had the same kind of... simplicity. There wasn't a lie anywhere in her: no room for it between that soft smile and those huge eyes. Axel had always longed for that easiness; that was why Roxas, a kid three years younger than him, was his best friend, instead of the people he knew who were actually his age.
But Naminé was scared of him. And there was no need to guess why. Larxene liked to brag about her past boyfriends, all of whom were the worst examples of humanity Axel had ever heard of. When they got naked for the first time, she showed him each scar and made him guess who had given her it: her father or one of her many exes. She had a thing for pain.
Axel wanted to convince Naminé he was different, that, no matter how pissed off he was at Larxene or how much she deserved it, he would never raise a hand to her, much less her little sister. But then he'd wonder why he was still hanging around Larxene in the first place if she was such a bitch, and he'd have to ask himself if he was really different after all.
O-o-O-o-O
One day, Roxas comes to the park by himself, looking like someone just ran over his puppy and backed up to make sure the job got done right. Axel frowns. Roxas can be a space case, but he's usually not the brooding type. He falls back on the grass, putting his hands behind his head. "What's up, Roxas?" he asks, that soft note he only gets around kids in his voice.
Roxas sits down beside him, resting his elbows on his knees. He lets his bangs fall forward and cover his eyes. "...Xion's missing," he whispers.
Axel actually feels... shocked. Xion started hanging with them... what, a couple weeks, a couple months ago? Axel's no good with time. Either way, it's been long enough that he's gotten used to her. Maybe not used to her taking his best friend away, but she hasn't really done that, so his feathers aren't as ruffled anymore. He rubs his jaw and nudges Roxas with his boot. "What do you mean, missing?"
Roxas lets his chin drop onto his chest. "I mean missing," he snaps, his voice sharper than Axel's ever heard it. "I mean she's vanished. Didn't come to school, and nobody was home when I went there." He draws in a sharp breath—is he crying? Aw, shit. Axel hopes not. "She's gone. And nobody cares."
Axel sits up, chewing the inside of his cheek. Then, slowly, he sets a hand on Roxas's shoulder. "You care." His voice is barely a whisper. "I care." He gets to his feet and holds his hands in front of Roxas's face. "Come on, squirt." Roxas lifts his head, his eyes wide. Axel raises his eyebrows. "The hell are we supposed to find her if we don't look?"
O-o-O-o-O
He broke up with Larxene, of course. Looking back now, he couldn't believe he'd stayed with her as long as he had. She was so... small. There wasn't even a hint of a decent person in her.
But her sister... shit, her sister. Axel found himself thinking about her a thousand times more than he ever thought about Larxene. She was too young to move out of her parents' house, too young to escape her torments. He could have done something about it. Told the police. Called a social worker. Hell, just take the kid out to pizza or something.
But he didn't. It wasn't his business, he told himself. He wanted to cut ties with Larxene, he told himself. It was too much damn trouble, he told himself. And yet... the regret weighed heavy on his mind for longer than he liked to think about.
O-o-O-o-O
The kid shows up at his door around midnight, long after he and Roxas parted ways for the night. Why is he surprised? Roxas knows where he lives, and he tells this girl everything, everything. Of course she would remember.
She stands there on his doorstep, trembling in the rain, and she is just as speechless and fragile as she was that first day. Her hood covers her face, save her lips, which shake as muchas her thin, thin shoulders. He can't tell if that's just rain running down her face or if she's crying, and he's glad of it. Instead of speaking, he just steps aside to let her in.
She sits down at his kitchen table as though he invited her, and he makes her tea as though she asked. Only when he sets the steaming cup in front of her does she draw back her hood. A dark bruise covers one lovely eye, and that cheek is swollen, raw and pink. For a moment, he sees Naminé's face, but it's gone. He could never confuse Xion for her now, could never ignore her by saying it's not his problem. It's Roxas's problem, and that makes it his.
She takes a drink and winces. Without a word, Axel gets up and takes an icepack from the freezer. Her eyes stay on the table as she presses it to her cheek.
He wants to tell her Roxas is worried about her. He wants to tell her he was worried about her. He wants to tell her that she fits with them better than he ever thought anyone could. He doesn't, though.
Instead, he leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. "Kinda wet for a late-night walk, wouldn't you say, Xion?" He lingers over her name, like always. He's never wondered why before.
Slowly, she shrugs. She sets down the icepack and takes another drink of the tea. She finally stops shivering, though her lips keep quivering.
"I think so, anyway." Axel taps his lips with a finger, studying her face. She's always wearing that damn hoodie. He never gets to see it much, but it's still as familiar to him as Roxas's. "So why here? Why not Roxas's place?"
Her fingers brush the bruise on his cheek. She winces, but Axel doesn't think it's from the pain. "...I don't want him to know. Please, Axel. He... he thinks I'm normal. He doesn't know anything about where I come from, and I want it to stay that way." A tear lands on the table; neither of them look at it. "I was just wondering... if I could stay here for the night." She wipes her eyes, wincing as she brushes her bruised cheek. "I have someone else I can stay with, but... but it's too far to go tonight."
He nods. Xion finishes her tea. Axel gets up and flicks a finger at her. "Come on. Couch is this way." He leads her over, and she stretches out. It's much too big for her: her body barely covers two cushions, even though she's not curled up. Axel looks at her for a moment, and then he heads into his room for a blanket and an extra pillow.
Xion accepts them both with a nod. Her eyes are distant now, faraway as she thumps the lumps out of his pillow. Axel rests his back against the back of the couch, propping his elbows on the top edge. "...So who is it?" Xion doesn't lift her head. Axel continues anyway. He wants to know. "Who hit you, Xion?"
But she just shakes her head. Axel walks around to the front of the couch and sits down on the empty cushion. Xion stiffens. Then, slowly, she moves so her head rests beside his leg. He puts his hands behind his head and wonders what he's going to tell Roxas tomorrow. "...Kid would do fucking anything for you, you know," he murmurs. "Doesn't matter who you are or what's been done to you."
"Except help me get away." Axel glances down at her, but Xion's eyes are closed. "You know it's true, Axel. He'd tell me that I have to stay, that there are better paths than running away." She doesn't continue; she doesn't have to. Axel's never told her he used to be a street kid—even Roxas doesn't really know—but he's sure she gets it.
If she leaves, it will break Roxas's heart. And Axel has to help her. He has to.
One hand creeps out from under the blanket and grips the fabric of his jeans, just for a moment. "Please, Axel. Promise you won't tell. Promise... promise you'll let him remember me as something better."
His hand drops onto her hair, and he runs his fingers through it, just once. "I don't got to do anything, princess. He already sees you that way." He pauses. "...So do I." Xion's fingers tighten on his jeans, and then she lets go. She doesn't tell him to move his hand, though, so he keeps it there until both of them fall asleep.
In the morning, she's gone.
(Vague backstories are vague. Hopefully you get the idea. If you didn't... tell me.)