Music.

Beautiful, elegant music.

It circled around him as an invisible hurricane, echoing in his ears and calming his very non-being, soothing the pain in his chest. The music swam trough his senses, making him oblivious to the world around him. He was lost in the music, letting his mind drift off. Eyes closed, fingers drifting up and down the keys, The Cloaked Schemer let the clear memories of the piano come back to him, the next notes ringing in the air.

But anyone who was listening to this private concert would know that these notes were different from other ones. Like . . .Something was missing. Something that every music note needed to sound in the hearts of the audience. They felt hollow, empty even. And yet, they weren't; almost as if something was trying to fill the gap.

The notes were missing emotions. That's what it was. The Cloaked Schemer at the bench was lacking a heart, one that he had lost what seemed like a lifetime ago. The music was just noise to his ears nothing more. He could no longer feel what emotions they would stir inside his heart-deprived chest. The other Nobodies believe that music is only inspired by pure emotion; in which you are able to join your own heart with the music itself, resulting in a fluid, graceful string of notes.
Would that mean the Cloaked Schemer truly had a heart?

No. There was another way to play music. And there was proof that you didn't need a heart to play any instrument. It was a Nobody in Organization XIII. Demyx. If you couldn't play an instrument without a heart, then why had IX been able to play his sitar all this time?

Soul.

Something of which all Nobodies have.

The Cloaked Schemer was playing the piano with his very soul, letting old memories guide it over the keys.

"Zexion."

The music ceased in an instant, the last note ringing out desperately for its brothers. The pianist opened his eyes in surprise at the sound of his own name, his trance dissipating. Inwardly, he felt his body inhale, the music's hold on his Nobody soul vanishing. All his senses returned in a rush and he became aware of strong scent in the room he was in. The Cloaked Schemer identified it instantly as The Silent Hero.

Zexion straightened, a gloved hand moving to rest atop the file stuffed full of lose papers that sat next to him on the bench. The Nobody moved it a bit closer to him in a manner that it was not intended for anyone else but himself.

He turned his head toward where the direction of the voice had originated from; remnants of remembered anger in his blue eyes. He saw a tall muscled man in a familiar black Organization cloak, a portal closing behind him. Zexion did his best to look indifferent as he watched the older member walk toward him though his long unkempt bangs.

"What is it, Lexaeus?" The Cloaked Schemer inquired coolly, scooping up the over-stuffed file and placing it on his lap. He looked up at The Silent Hero. Why was he here anyway? He should be helping Vexen down in the lower levels of the Castle Oblivion today. Zexion had patrol of the basement this morning.

"I'm curious," Lexaeus replied bluntly, resting a hand on the grand piano. Zexion could smell concern coming off him along with the faint scent of a hunger for information. The Cloaked Schemer did his best to stifle the scowl that his lips badly wanted to form. He wasn't too fond of where he thought this conversation would be going. Plus, he didn't want to be questioned. Every man, even a nobody, is entitled to his or her own secerts. As an Illusionist, Zexion did not feel like sharing.

"Curious?" he repeated, scooting the piano bench back so he could stand up. Compared to Lexaeus, Zexion was quite short, only barely coming up to the taller Nobody's chest. The more obnoxious members had always called him their miniature member as well as other insults behind his back.

Zexion now held the file full of papers stiffly at his side. "Well then," he continued, walking past Lexaeus and pausing. He could feel Lexaues' stone gaze on his back. Zexion raised his empty hand in front of him, desperate to leave this room as soon as possible. Almost at once, the summoned dark portal opened inches in front of his outstretched hand. Zexion lowered his arm at the sight of the portal, a bit relieved. "If you're are curious, then I suggest you go prate about your concerns to Vexen. I'm busy . . ."

He didn't need to turn around to know that Lexaeus had a sly smile on his face. He felt the Silent Hero's glare easing a bit. "Busy?" Lexaeus scoffed, seeming amused by the fact Zexion was 'busy'.

The shorter member remained silent, his free hand clenching into a fist. "Yes, busy . . ."

"Now then," Lexaeus's voice returned to its normally gruff tone. Zexion now sensed that he was serious now. "I'm curious about our odd behavior, Zexion . . ." Lexaues paused, folding his arms across his chest. He already knew the question that was going through his fellow Nobody's mind. "Yes odd. You've been acting increasingly strange ever since we arrived here at Castle Oblivion. Recently, you've been avoiding Larxene as if you're very non-existence depended on it and been very disagreeable with Marluxia. You complain to Vexen and I about an ache in your chest and then, a few days later, you completely vanish from the Castle without even a word to anyone. And now, a week later, I hear music coming from the upper levels of the basement and find you playing on the piano from an old memory of a room in Radiant Garden's Castle."

Zexion winced at the mention of The Savage Nymph's name, his sore chest stinging with the syllables. "There's nothing wrong with playing the piano," he muttered. Zexion was clearly not in the mood to be interrogated by the likes of number V.

The Silent Hero closed his eyes for a moment and shrugged. "I suppose not . . .It's just that Ienzo was usually the one usually was playing."

The Cloaked Schemer whirled around and glared at Lexaeus words failing the clever nobody. In return, Lexaeus matched Zexion's glare. "Tell me, Number Six," He began, his voice echoing in the large room."Is they're something bothering you?"

Zexion's expression changed from being angry to that of one that looked as if he had just been insulted. Bothering him? The Cloaked Schemer of all Nobodies? He liked to read books and work on things that challenged his thinking. He was known for carrying around large books that looked to heavy for his small built to carry. He was known for working out difficult equations and reading for hours and hours on end. He enjoyed solving all sorts of problems, the next harder than the last. There were problems that the sixth Organization member was stuck on, but those only last a day or two at the most until he solved them. And now, Lexaeus was asking is something were bothering him?

"No.Why would a Nobody be bothered by anything?" Zexion replied, slowly blinking, the tone in his voice flat and serious. The illusionist would never admit that something was indeed bothering him. In fact, it was even clawing at his empty heart-deprived chest. Not that Zexion would tell Lexaeus about it. He didn't even know about what the cause the pain was himself. He only knew was that it happened when he was around the Savage Nymph. Larxene.

The fifth member looked at Zexion skeptically. "Are you positive, Zexion?" Lexaeus questioned. "If my memories haven't faltered, I remember Ansem the Wise would often sit a perplexed or a frustrated Ienzo in front of this very same piano. Ansem even told Aeleus you had taken playing the piano like a heart to darkness." The Silent Hero gave a rare chuckle before continuing, "Ansem told the young apprentice to play regardless of how it sounded and until you had found yourself again and would continue your work with a level head. And you, once part of Ienzo, I would imagine playing the piano whenever you were distressed."

"Distressed?" Zexion scoffed, turning to face the portal once again with his back to the fifth member. He waved his hand back at him, as if to dismiss the Silent Hero. "How can you be so sure, Lexaeus? This is the first time I've ever played the piano since I was Ienzo. How can you come to this conclusion? Perhaps I was just seeing if I could still play the piano and dust off the old memories? Aren't we not studying memories in Castle Oblivion?"

Zexion lowered his arm and stepped through the portal before he would have to hear Lexaeus's reply, closing the portal shortly afterward. The Cloaked Schemer didn't want to drag the conversation on any longer with Lexaeus.It was something he wished not to do. The problem was that Lexaeus knew him all too well. The muscled member also had perfect memories of Ienzo as well, knowing the apprentice like a family member. That was it. An old memory floated into his head. It was when he was still Ienzo and when he first had become an apprentice to Ansem the Wise. It was the friendly Aeleus who took him under his wing and became like an older brother to the quiet Ienzo.

Zexion swore silently, stepping out into the safety of his room in the lower levels of the basement. His room was that of a miniature library, selves upon selves of books as well at stacks of them dotted around the large square room. There was a dull gray bed, desk to match and a small sofa, but other than that, Zexion's room was quite empty. The illusionist tossed the file onto the desk and made his way to the sofa, plopping down on it with a sigh. Closing his eyes, he leaned onto one of the arms and placed a gloved hand over his chest where his heart should have been. The mild pain that had been on hiatus had returned the moment Lexeaus had said Her name. And now, Zexion could only try to mentally forbid himself from thinking anything beyond the seven letters of her name and try to concentrate on something else.

How about a book? That normally worked.

No. No. He always read. He needed to do something else; something that would completely wipe him of the thought of Larxene, the weaseling Lexaeus, and the file on his desk.

Zexion inhaled deeply, taking in the scents of his room, and then, very peacefully . . .closed his eyes and sighed, trying to drift off into a dreamless sleep.