Author: Firekitten
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, sadly.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: In a world of nothingness Demyx ponders about himself, his new home and life in general. Oh, and about his strange scythe-wielding lover.
Warnings: Shonen-ai, slight swearing, spoilers for KH: CoM
Pairing: Marluxia/Demyx
Happy Birthday K.K.!
The universe was limitless. From the deep seas of an ocean to the hot sands of a desert, there were endless possibilities for all types of curious minds. It was said in legend that these 'worlds' once were connected by thin gates of astral space. These gates were freely traveled by all kinds of people (and some non-people, but technicalities aside…) and all was at peace.
Yuk, what a fairy tale right? But thank God the black villain in dark chain mail came to mess things up and make this story a little more exciting. He cut the gates and the alliances once held up were forgotten like lessons taught in summer school. These worlds, though not destroyed, remained separate for many centuries.
Of course, there was the tale of the keyblader and of the Heartless and blah, blah but that stuff wasn't important.
The point was that all types of worlds existed. Including many that should have never come into being in the first place. Namely, The World That Never Was. See? Even IT knows it shouldn't exist. Or maybe that was just Xemnas attempting to be creative and 'original'. Yeah, it was about as creative as The End of the World. You could almost swear that the names were made up by the same people they were so dull! I would have named it something cool like Sitar Haven… or Demyxland! Yeah… welcome to Demyxland where all your dreams find a watery grave.
Oh wait, I'm getting off track.
…
Okay, maybe I don't know how to start this story at all. Many people would say 'at the beginning' but I technically had two beginnings. I had my life born as a Somebody; as Edmy Tavi, a native to the Indian jungles. I had spent the majority of my life learning how to fetch water and how to fish and – when I was old enough – how to hunt. Mowgli and I had spent countless hours running off into the jungle to play with the animals that lived there. In those days, life had been good and simple and the afternoons were filled with mundane tasks; but at night, if we were lucky, and the elders were in a good mood, we would light a bonfire and have a celebration full of dancing and feasting with the sweet sound of sitar music playing in the background.
And then I had my life born as a Nobody; as Demyx, Number IX of Organization XIII. I had awoken at the foot of the skyscraper, like most nobodies of my type did, confused and lost; and the only place I had left to go was into Xemnas' castle. I joined the ranks willingly once I heard what my Superior's plans were. "To get the heart back by opening Kingdom Hearts" was what he said and I only nodded my head in consent, remembering all too clearly the feeling of having my heart being ripped out and having my life taken from me all too wrongfully. Edmy had only seen sixteen summers; my life had been cut too short too fast and I wanted it back. But when Xemnas asked of what weapon I would use the only thing I could come up with was… a sitar. I was met with no objections, even though the choice was a bit strange, but the moment the instrument was in my hands I knew I had chosen correctly. It was comforting to hold that peace of my past in my hands, the only link I had to truly remembering. Without a heart all my memories will fade like my body…
My new life was filling with fighting countless Heartless, staying away from Larxene and Vexen, spying on a thirteen year old keyblader and… other things I'm not going to mention at this point and time.
Of course I remember a lot of both my lives. Most Nobodies did, well sans Roxas but he wasn't meant to. If the little brat remembered he was Sora he'd probably go all noble on them. Erg, goody-two shoes much?
Actually, my new life isn't too bad; it's just the lack of feeling that bothers me. Oh, and my reflection. It took me a couple of months before I could confidently look into a mirror without gagging in disgust. Every time I looked at my own face I felt like I had betrayed someone and it filled me with – well not guilt I didn't feel – but it was a strange sort of thought that I had done something wrong. My skin was supposed to be dark, the color that was loyal to my people; my hair was meant to be black and my eyes brown. But no, my skin is white like some foreigner's! And my hair and eyes are the Arabic's custom blonde and blue respectively. The Germans would have loved to get their hands on me!
Well ok, my eyes don't bother me so much. They remind me of the water – not that I'm trying to be a romantic or anything – and I love the water. As Edmy, I had snuck off many times to take a quick, lazy swim in the lake nearby home. Swimming had always been my forte and maybe that was why – as Demyx – water magic had just come to me like I had known it all my life. It is just another thing that keeps me connected to who I really am.
I have friends too! They were nothing like Mowgli or Shanti back home, but they were something of interest. Axel, the one born before me, was my first friend. Most likely because it was the duty of the former born to teach the latter born how life worked as a Nobody. (Man, I feel sorry for Marluxia and Roxas.) Axel, though contradictory in our magic, is someone easy to get along with and is actually a really entertaining person. With silly catchphrases like "Got it memorized?" and a tendency to spell things out, he had been a little funny in the head but had a way of spicing life up by pulling pranks on poor unsuspecting people – coughRoxascough – and by stealing things like decks of cards or daggers just to get a rise out of people. Of course, we both learned rather quickly that if we are going to steal we shouldn't get caught and if we are going to get caught not by a crazy scythe-wielding maniac who loved his flowers a little too much. Axel's past life was one of mystery to me. I'm under the awareness that the only one who knew of the pyromaniac's true origins is Roxas (and possibly Xemnas because he just knew things).
My second friend was Luxord. Unlike Axel, Luxord loves to talk of his past life. It was, strangely enough, the life of a pirate. (No wonder he likes Port Royal so much). Therefore, Luxord knew all types of ways to con a man and a thousand ways to play games with cards and dice. From him, I heard many romantic tales of sailing across the ocean and of parties atop the deck and of finding a new treasure or discovering a new land. If I wasn't born a Hindu, I would have loved the life of a pirate. The sea, that's where I want to be!
My third friend was, naturally, Roxas. Like Sora, the brat had a special talent for making 'friends' (or at least an impression) though I was never quite the friend to him as Axel was. The two had hit it off like they'd know each other for years (Zexion had once said it was probable that Axel was Riku's Nobody since he never did come out of Kingdom Hearts, but then said silver-haired emo-boy was found wondering Castle Oblivion's halls and that theory was shot to hell). Thus, Axel had a way of picking on Roxas in a friendly, affectionate way and Roxas… well he smiled – smiles that were rare and always meant for Axel alone. Roxas was the only one of them born without a memory of his own and, therefore, was desperate to fill his head with some type of memories, even ones that weren't his own. It wasn't unnatural for the boy to interrogate you abruptly in the middle of breakfast, holding his fork like a lethal weapon if he didn't get his answers NOW. It always gave me a peace of mind to share, that's why I like Roxas. He was one of the few who likes listening to my stories.
As for everyone else, I typically stayed clear of them. Actually Xemnas technically stayed clear of us unless he wanted to give orders. That was just our superior's way. But the others… well, they were just different.
Larxene, for example, was insane. She had a deep love of sadism and worse yet her element was lightning. One volt would probably kill a natural electrical conductor like me. If those weren't two vital clues that told me to Stay Back then the times I accidentally walked three feet into the same room as her and she threw a dagger at my head did the job.
Zexion, Lexaeus, and Vexen just wanted nothing to do with me and I'm perfectly fine with that. Zexion has a strange type of magic that I'd never even heard of in myths and his eyes make me feel like I have to be constantly on guard. I feel like I'm looking at a viper each time I encountered the blue-haired man and I know one thing: Snakes, they are an omen of evil. As for Vexen he's always rambling on about some odd type of practice, something called science. I had asked about it once and was thoroughly appalled over the explanation of experimentation on animals and even people. It's just plain wrong! Lastly, Lexaeus just never wants to look at me, probably because I'm so much younger than the tall, burly Nobody. Plainly stated, we never talk. Not even once.
Saïx was just plain scary especially after a full moon; then it was time to turn and run for the hills! He is what my people would call a demon. Anything that can transform like a shape shifter spoke of ills too horrible to be put into words.
Xigbar isn't so bad, but he speaks in such way to me that I feel like he is constantly being insulting but I'm too uncultured to understand how. Xaldin also isn't too terrible, but he just seems more interested in other things and never gives me the time of day.
Yes that's everyone!
…
Well, almost everyone.
I conveniently – deliberately – forgot Marluxia. But that was because Marluxia is neither a friend nor an acquaintance nor someone I'm intentionally trying to avoid.
No, Marluxia fit in none of these categories. That's because Marluxia is my salaamat.
My soul mate.
The strumming of a sitar and a light on-key humming filled the room as Demyx stood, playing in the middle of the room. The sitar he held was a beautiful piece to behold even for the music-inept. The color of it blazed like a rare sapphire, but its shades undulated like the waves of an ocean. The strings were made of delicate yet firm white wire, clashing nicely with the yellow frets that looked like a Heartless' eyes. The body of it was shaped like a heart and at the end of the neck three sharp spade-like accessories sprung from it. The sitar was all sharp looking edges but the music that sprung forth was tranquil and magical- as if the player had a strong sense of passivity about him.
The Nocturne's eyes were shut and a content smile was on his face. Only a light drip, drip, like rain, permeated his music. The room he was in was filled with all sorts of plants and flowers. Once he had been told all the names but he had never had much of a memory. Water was falling softly atop the plants, watering them thoroughly without harming. Just as he strung the last chord and murmured the last foreign stanza of his song, the magic rain stopped.
He opened his eyes with a triumphant grin. "Mission accomplished!" He looked around Marluxia's garden, laughing a bit. The man in question had been sent out by Xemnas' orders, but Marluxia never forgot about his flowers. And Demyx was the only one he trusted with such a significant task. It made the Nocturne feel special, much like Axel felt like when Roxas gave him a pity chuckle to one of his corny jokes.
Demyx giggled, practically skipping from the improvised greenhouse, shutting the door softly behind him. Of course, the new room he was in was a bedroom. Marluxia would never stray far from his babies.
Now that his job for the day was done, what would he do? He could probably go bug Axel and Roxas… but they were probably busy. Lately he felt so left out. They just always seemed to be with each other! Maybe he should leave well enough alone…
He would go bug Luxord, but he was on a mission too. He went to somewhere called Tor… Tortu… well something along those lines.
Demyx sighed spiraling across the bed on his back. "I could always get some scissors… and shear off those weird antennas from Larxene's head. Then she'd probably turn me in bacon bits but…" he shuddered at the thought. Being torn apart by daggers and fried… yeah that was her style alright. He laid there in thought, mentally crossing out people as he named them. Xigbar? No, he didn't feel like being played for a fool today. Xaldin? He was on a mission too, but he probably wouldn't have wanted his company anyways. Lexaeus? Wait, he's a mute. Booor-ing! Xemnas? Well, first would be the matter of finding him, then a matter of engaging him in some actual conversation that didn't speak of world domination or some sort and then – well, this was too much work, and Demyx never liked work. Vexen? Demyx shuddered. Oh, hell no! Zexion? Um, definitely not. That was it then! He'd just have to go find Saïx and ask him if he'd like to talk over some herbal tea and – what was wrong with him?! Was he so desperate for attention he would risk getting his arms ripped off by the very beast itself?!
"I think I'm sick!" Demyx moaned overdramatically, throwing a hand up in the air. "Marluxia come back! I'm so bored without you!" He yelled towards the heavens, hoping some angel would deliver his salaamat back to him. Yeah right, as if in his sixteen – or was it seventeen? This place had no sense of time! – summers he hadn't been able to figure out that life just was not cool like that.
He sighed, strumming a few sad, lonely chords letting the depressing music fill the air. Abruptly he chuckled. "I feel like Shanti when Mowgli goes missing." His smile turned nostalgic. Just the mention of his friends from home brought back memories. Unconsciously, his fingers moved to start a new, more up-beat song. If he shut his eyes, he could practically see the women and men of his village dancing to the tune. He could feel the heat of the bonfire's flames and taste the delicious cooked Jaya fish that lived in great abundance in the river near his home.
He suddenly was on his feet, bouncing on the bed with the frenzied excitement of a five-year old, bursting into a song that he heard his elder's sing but strumming the chords to a different tune. Every few words he laughed, feeling both tremendously silly and enormously cheerful. It was at these moments… that he could almost believe he had a heart.
He wasn't sure how long he played like that, jumping and adding little twirls and twists as if showing-off just like he used to back home, but when he came down from his blissful high, falling back onto the bed in an exhausted heap, face flushed and eyes twinkling, reality smacked him in the face. He wasn't home. He was alone in a castle in the middle of nothingness, doomed to disappear as if he never existed at all.
But did this get Demyx down?!
…Well yes, it did quite a lot actually, but he just had to keep remembering that he wasn't Edmy Tavi anymore, and he never would be again. And at least here… at least here he had Axel and Roxas and Luxord and Marluxia. At least he wasn't all alone.
Even that slight optimism didn't raise his spirits. He laid his sitar across his chest, falling into another, more soft and humble song. Much like the one he played for the flowers not minutes ago but this new melody held a more humble and homesick sense to it.
"Soye Naan Nanban," Sleep my friends He murmured the words of a lullaby, remembering the many times he had sung Shanti, Mowgli and little Hathi to sleep. He had been more than a friend; he had been a big brother taking care of his siblings. The soft music filled the air, and he was reminded of quiet nights walking around his village, looking up at the stars so bright wondering if he'd ever see what was past them.
Before he knew it the song had died away and he found himself drifting off. Demyx was asleep.
And that was how the Graceful Assassin found Demyx – placed atop his bed sheets in a contented sleep, looking much like a sunflower praising the holy sun. The smile was faint but it was there. His eyes strayed towards the door that led to his garden, and temptation (and little persuasion) made him hurry to where his babies laid, opening the door with all the fervor of a worried mom with three sick kids. "Children I'm home!"
"Gah!" Demyx cried in surprise jerking upwards, sitar falling heavily into his lap. His eyes searched around for the cause of such a rude awakening. He could see the pink head of hair through the open doorway and sighed in relief. It was only Marluxia. Setting his sitar aside, he watched the taller flutter among his flock with all the concern of a tiger with its cubs.
Liamaru. The name can to him, unbidden. Marluxia's true name. He recalled it at the oddest of times with no real trigger. Of course he knew Marluxia's history, had been told so many stories that he could probably write a book! Heh, wouldn't that be funny? The Scripture of Marluxia, now in paperback!
Marluxia was, believe it or not, rightfully Italian. Like Demyx though, the majority of his appearance had been altered. 'My skin,' he had said, 'had been darker. Nothing like yours but it had a dreary tan to it. My eyes had been a boring brown and my hair was an uninteresting blond. Liamaru had been so… archetypal. But now look at me! Hair like germaniums, eyes like violets and skin that is reminiscent of white roses! I couldn't be happier!'
He seemed to be awfully brokenhearted about it.
Liamaru's love for flowers and plants had been with him since birth. He was raised by a family that had a privately-owned flower shop. Many days after school – 'School, what's that?' Demyx remembered inquiring. 'Oh, a dreadful place that teaches you absolutely nothing of value and you had to listen to she-demons know as teachers.' Marluxia had replied. – he helped out in the shop. The XI organization member often boasted on how he was the only one in the universe that could tell you the plant's name, it's 'romantic' meaning and the exact regions where such plants are found; not to mention subspecies and different colors it can come in and if any scientific mumbo-jumbo was used or what not but Demyx usually got bored over things he didn't care to understand and tended to ignore this part of the lesson.
Liamaru had had a large close-knitted family that reminded Demyx of his own tribe. 'From my father, came the Nello's. From my mother, came the Santorini's. My father was a botanist. My mother never existed.' Demyx of course had taken that to mean that Liamaru grew up without one, which was ironic because Edmy had never had a father (but that was alright; as it was, everyone in his clan took the job of child-rearing or sibling positions). 'Dad was a little insane. He was a member of the Green Project. The whole idea is to 'bring' back plant life to the nation, as if the world was decaying. They had the silliest slogan: Turning Brown Back to Green. Dad was overly obsessed with it though and was constantly mumbling about it. I personally thought he could have used a new hobby.'
'I had an Uncle Vicenzo, Uncle Vinny for short. He was a funny guy, always laid back and uncaring. He made me laugh a lot. I remember he had a mustache that he always got food in when he ate. I always thought he'd never really do anything important because he was just so… awkward. Then one day, our flower shop got blown up from a broken gas pipe and Uncle Vinny disappeared. I thought he was dead, but three months later he appeared in the newspaper and the headline read 'Crazy Italian Blows up City Bridge'. Now I think that accident made him brain damaged. Last time I heard about him he was with some strange crew looking for – of all the silly, fake things – Atlantis!'
Those were just a few accountants Demyx could think of, but he knew many more. He knew Liamaru Nello had used to bite his nails when he was a teenager, that when he was six his cousin Rocco had struck a garden snake down his shirt, and that when he was in the 8th grade he had let his hair grow out and highlighted it blue because he wanted to be a 'punk' rocker – whatever that was. Liamaru had only ever kissed a girl once in his life due to a dare and had kissed two males (not including him) due to clandestine relationships. When he was ten he had a pet rabbit he named Cosmos and a pet lizard he called Moonbeam. At seventeen he had seriously considered becoming a nudist and at eighteen he wanted to be an artist. But, most importantly, Liamaru had only seen twenty-one summers before his unfortunate end. That made Marluxia five years older than himself, which was strange considering Demyx was 'born' first as a Nobody but was still technically 'younger'. And that was Marluxia's Somebody life.
As a Nobody, Marluxia admits that he felt crueler, unsympathetic and emptier. He once said, 'There is no life without a heart. The Heartless, they continue to take more and more hearts as their own and that's bad. If everyone didn't have a heart, the universe would fall into a dire situation of chaos and would collapse onto itself. We'd lose everything: our memories, our values, our connections, our very lives. I suppose that should concern me but I can hardly gather up the feelings to care.'
And worryingly, neither could Demyx. The only important thing was to get theirs back.
"What are you thinking about?"
This time he didn't jump. "Nothing important." He looked towards Marluxia, tilting his head to the side.
He didn't comment. "Everything seems to be in order."
"Did you doubt me?" Demyx accused, feigning hurt.
"Mischievous things can happen when I let the flower have the ability to bring weeds in." Marluxia said, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Hey! Axel and Roxas aren't weeds!"
"My mistake. They're crabgrass."
Demyx rolled his eyes in what could only be false exasperation. He watched Marluxia trek off back towards his greenhouse, talking animatedly about his mission that the Melodious Nocturne only half listened to – something about Naminé he was sure. She was up on the top priorities list for Organization XIII all because she had strange powers. He hardly understood any of it, but whatever the Superior wanted the Superior got.
He couldn't help but think about it – his emotions that is. They weren't real because he didn't have the heart to feel them. Everything was just fake; every 'feeling' was not the real thing. Or was it? Was emotion really what came from the heart or just random 'chemical reactions' (as Vexen would so lovingly put it) firing off in his head? After all, he knew he cared for Marluxia on a deeply devoted level; something only the 'heart' should be able to guide. Was the heart really important at all? Oh this was making his head hurt. In an effort to distract his thoughts his eyes caught sight of the scythe leaning discretely against the wall.
One of the few things he had been generally curious about was Marluxia's choice of weapon. Demyx was under the impression that people chose something close to them as a weapon, like his sitar or Luxord's cards.
He couldn't quite say why it intrigued him so much. In fact all weapons had, but this one had been one of the most curious of all. Its handle was green like a vine and curved to such an extent it looked unwieldy and flimsy. At the tip of the handle was a four-pointed yellow star, tipped red as if stained with blood. And finally, the deadly blade itself that shot from the star was a deep pink. It was a curved, unnatural thing that looked deadly if one stuck one's neck too far out…
He had first sought out Axel on the issue. Axel seemed to know a lot about weird and useless things- and he fought with strange alien weapons as well (which Demyx had had to be educated on by said red-haired male as well) so Demyx was certain he'd know. When he informed the red-head he didn't even know what the strange tool was though, Axel had spluttered and said, "Where have you been living? A cave? It's a scythe! S-C-Y-T-H-E. Got it memorized?" And, Axel finished his catchphrase with the all-important hand gesture of tapping his temple with his hand. "As for why he has it, well he probably just has a decapitation fetish."
Then he went to Luxord under the pretense of wanting to play poker. "Well, it's a common symbol of the Death God. From your expression though you don't seem to have any idea of what that is. A Death God leads you to hell when you die and they are often called 'Bringers of Death'. Ironic, since we're half-dead already, I doubt we can cut it much closer. He's probably just trying to look scary and deadly. By the way you lost. How many times do I have to tell you that aces are high?" (Demyx was sure they were low last time!)
And then he went to Roxas while the boy was in one of his 'brooding moods' and, by result, was sulking in the ballroom. "Who the hell cares? A weapon is a weapon and it kills things, end of story. Besides, I think you give him too much credit. He doesn't have a mind for symbolism, just for flowers and being gay." Well that had seemed a little mean-spirited.
He remembered once, when they were wandering the halls of Oblivion castle, he finally decided to ask Marluxia. "Why a Scythe?"
And Marluxia looked at him with a faint grin and a glint in his eyes. "I used one all the time at home during crop season when I visited my Aunt's farm. It's a tool used for harvesting. My dad used to tell me all these stories about people accidentally chopping off their own feet or a neighbor's arm. I just figured, since I was so used to swinging it, it would be the easiest thing to fight with."
Sadly for all his nastiness, Roxas had been the closest one to the true answer.
Demyx was unexpectedly shocked out of his ponderings when a pink blur rapidly vaulted atop the bed and tackled him. "You're not listening to me!" That sounded suspiciously like a whine.
Demyx looked up at him blankly, feeling caught. "Um, of course I am!"
"What was the last thing I said?" Marluxia grilled.
"Um…" Go with the safe answer Demyx. The safe answer!! "Flowers are nice?"
"Oh they are aren't they? The cute adorable- that was NOT what I said!"
"Eep!" He cried out in such a manly way that it made homosexuals laugh. Marluxia was scary when he was angry and he only got angry if you didn't lavish 24/7 attention onto him. Or stepped on his flowers. Or touched his hair – well ok Demyx didn't get in trouble for that but he had exclusive rights!
The Assassin caught his chin, grinning playfully – or maybe it was maliciously. "You're so very uncultured. Those Hindis didn't teach you to listen when your elders spoke?"
His eyes narrowed. "Of course they did! But they never said I had to listen to women."
The other seemed stunned and the silence went on for so long Demyx thought he was in real trouble but then Marluxia chuckled so abruptly it made the younger jolt. "Taking insult lessons now too?"
"Only from the best says the Dancing Flames." The younger said with a relieved smile. It wasn't like they could get truly angry anyways… or could they? Oh no, not that subject again! Distraction, Distraction!
"So, no welcome home kiss?" the taller said with a sulking tone in his voice.
Demyx rolled his eyes again. "Well, if you'd stop attacking me we might have gotten around to it already!"
"Hey you deserved it you-"
Oh no. He mentally dived in his head for his Tips for Living with Marluxia: a Homemade Book By Demyx. He dredged up "Complaining Chapter 3 Section A-Y". Definition: A sudden, intuitive burst of long tirades on how Demyx was not fulfilling his duties as a boyfriend. Cause: Demyx didn't know how to keep his big yap quiet. Solution: Shut Marluxia up quick.
Demyx reached his hands up, placing them behind Marluxia's head and yanked him down. They entered a bruising kiss that was more sloppy and brutal than chaste and romantic. They glared at each others eyes for a few moments, neither willing to make it sweeter until the shorter felt a tickling at his side and reluctantly gasped. Their tongues brushed and he melted and the kiss turned sweeter and warmer, just like Kama had always intended it to be.
He had been so inexperienced at first, so terrified. He had to be taught how to kiss, and it was sloppy and icky and just too weird. It had taken weeks for him to ever initiate a kiss and took him months to do it right! But Marluxia… was an expert.
He wasn't sure how he ended up on his side – his Salaamat tended to do that to him, he just always got so lost – and the pleasant feeling of Marluxia biting at the pulse of his neck was making him shudder. "You're such a tease." Demyx growled.
"No, this is teasing."
And then suddenly he was being… being tickled.
"AHAHAHAHA STOP! CHEATER!" Demyx tried to squirm away, laughing.
"Nope! This is payback for not listening!"
"You haha… you demon!"
He tried rolling away and consequently he fell off the bed, narrowly missing his sitar. Oh that would have hurt to hit. It was all metal really. The botanist looked over the edge of the bed, a wicked grin spreading his lips.
"Evil… pure evil." Demyx gasped, regaining his breath.
"But you adore me anyways."
He opened his mouth to snark back a reply but it caught in his throat. "Y-yeah…" He stuttered, nervously, avoiding eye contact. "Right."
Now, Marluxia was a touchy person most of the time and most times he'd of found this behavior offensive, but something about this was off. It wasn't a denial, but it wasn't an acceptance either. It was laden with curious uncertainty. "What is wrong?"
"I just… I've been thinking."
"Did it hurt?" He couldn't help it.
"Shut up!" Demyx jumped to his feet quickly, and just as quickly Marluxia sprung onto his knees to keep a normal height level between them. The water wielder began to pace around the room, pulling at his hair. "I'm having a real problem here! I don't understand anything! The Superior says without a heart we will die. That our heart is our emotion, our whole life! But I… Right now I feel… irritated! I feel confused. I feel angry! That's not normal!!"
"And, your point is?"
"I just- argh, I just!" Demyx spun on his heels muttering colorful curse words, before plopping onto the bed next to him, burying his head in his hands. "I don't want to mistrust the Superior, but what if he's wrong? Even scarier what if he's right? What is true emotion anyways? What if what I feel now is all a lie." There was a long pause and then Demyx drew in a shaky breathe. "What if what I feel for you is a lie?"
Marluxia, by far the more philosophical, let the idea mull over in his thoughts. "Dem, the Superior is never wrong. You're an older Nobody than I and yet you do not comprehend that?" The younger winced as if he had done something blasphemous. "Therefore, feeling does come from the heart. However, we were older when we died; we had experienced many things and many feelings. As Nobodies, we are on the hollow shell; the brain and body. Maybe what we feel is what out brain remembers should be felt under certain circumstances."
"I… guess that makes sense, but I never fell in love before. I can't love you." Demyx whispered, lifting his head up to look at the other forlornly.
"True, neither have I. That is why we need our hearts back." Marluxia said. "Then we can really say… those words. That'll be when we truly mean them."
But what if it's not? True love that is… Demyx thought worriedly but didn't dare say aloud. He was afraid of what the answer would be. So he steered the conversation away. "Agreed. But, if our brain can remember stuff like that, why do we even need a heart?"
"Because our heart holds our memories as well." Marluxia said. "Have you not noticed that the longer you last as a Nobody, the longer you dwell in this world of in-between, your memories, your whole self, is getting abolished piece by piece?"
"I… yes." Demyx mumbled. "I can no longer recall my mother's face, or the name Mowgli called that bear or the way to my favorite pond. I remembered all this just two weeks ago but now I can't find it at all. I can't even remember the four principles I meant to live by!"
"I don't know what my best friend's name is or the first flower I ever sold was." Marluxia put in, frowning lightly in distress. "Even if we starting writing it down, whose to say the pages won't disappear like everything else in this world? Soon there will be nothing left of us and we will fade into nothingness."
"Will we… f-forget each other?" He stuttered, tense.
"Never." Was all Marluxia said in return. He sounded so certain, so confident the younger didn't have the heart to disagree. Indeed, the elder had said it with such conviction, Demyx believed it. They could never forget each other.
He nodded and believed that was the end of that conversation.
But abruptly a new thought shot through his head like a bullet train full of slow blonds like him. How could he not pick up something so obvious?!
Demyx looked at him again, fretfully twiddling his thumbs. "I'm no scientist Mar but… isn't your theory wrong? What about Roxas? He never had any memories to begin with! Wouldn't he already be gone?"
"Roxas is special. He is special because of Sora. As long as Sora exists in his pure form, Roxas can not die. Unlike us. Our pure sides are still Heartless somewhere, or maybe they aren't even alive at all. We are not as lucky as Roxas. Our hearts can not be regained. That is why we must trust the Superior."
"Right. He will lead us back to the lives we once held." Demyx said with a hopeful smile. "He'll bring us back! Edmy Tavi and Liamaru Nello will return!"
"Correct."
"Sabaash!" Demyx crowed triumphantly.
"And what in the world did that mean?"
"Well, it means 'Well done' but I think it sounds better as a 'Yay!'" Demyx chuckled and crawled into Marluxia's lap. "Now where were we?"
"I believe I was seducing you."
"Oh well… carry on." Demyx grinned, leaning close and whispered seductively. "My Salaamat."
And Marluxia did.
And Demyx found it very hard to walk the rest of the evening.
"Number XI is dead."
"W-what?" Demyx couldn't help but speak out, even if he knew that when he was in this room he was meant to be silent. But, it just couldn't be true! What his flame-haired friend was saying just couldn't be true!
He stared down from his seat at Axel, shock written over all his features. He didn't bother to hide it. He took a quick, surveying look of the room. It was white and circular, with thirteen pillar-like marble seats surrounding it. He sat in the 9th one. Five were now vacated – permanently. The 4th, 5th, 6th, 11th and 12th were… gone. Were dead.
All killed, all murdered.
He looked around at the other members but no one seemed as shaken as he did. In fact, Demyx was sure half his brain was processing under water at the moment. He could barely concentrate anymore, could barely hear the other members arguing. He couldn't think, he shouldn't think. A certain Assassin always said it was bad for him.
"As I can see it, the keyblader, Sora, decided to be the noble brat he is and 'save' our dear Naminé. He came barging into the room, yelling bloody murder. Marluxia, valiantly tried to keep him pacified, but the brat would have none of it." Axel reported. "Marluxia died in a dignified way, trying to fulfill his orders. All of them did."
"And of Sora and Riku?" Xaldin asked. "Where have they gone?"
"Disappeared, along with Naminé. I have suspicions to believe she helped them escape." Axel said, clenching his fists, looking furious. "It is unjust that they died in such a horrible way! That no-nothing brat should be painfully killed for what he has done!" He threw his hands up in the air, as if trying to strike a point but something about his movements made Demyx believe it was nothing but an act. A lie. Axel didn't care. In fact, the Flurry of Dancing Flames probably would betray the organization if he could…
"Now what do we do?" Xigbar snapped. "Without the keyblader our work is naught!"
"So?" Roxas growled exasperatedly. "I have one why can't I take care of it?"
"Because you're incompetent." Saïx replied.
"What?!"
Demyx was faintly aware of an explosion of noise as utter chaos broke out between the remaining members. Some of them seemed ready to strike one another. The tension was thick in the air. Roxas had stood in his seat and was bending his knees back so he could vault over to Saïx-
"Silence." The command wasn't loud, but it held enough authority behind it that everyone's mouths cracked shut and heads turned quick enough to fracture. Roxas fell back, nearly toppling off his seat.
From the highest seat in the room, the Superior stared down at them with unnerving gold eyes, his face expressionless. "What has happened happened. We shall dearly miss our comrades and we will not allow their sacrifices be in vain. We are close now. Let us finish what needs to be done. We will not become rash when the pinnacle of our power is almost complete!" A silence pervaded them all for a long time.
"But-" It was Roxas who tried to break it.
"No XIII. You are a Nobody, without a heart. You're power is nothing compared to the true master's. We must find Sora."
And that was it. The matter was done. Roxas slumped in his seat, scowling with withheld fury and defeat. The others could only agree.
They agreed –and they forgot.
It was as if the other five members had never existed. Like they never mattered!
It infuriated Demyx. It was like a dance he wasn't asked to. Everyone was moving to the same rhythm but him. Everyone had a secret but never said it. Words were whispered clandestinely of long forgotten missions with long forgotten people, but names were never mentioned. The names had been lost in the darkness and not even the brightest torch could find them.
It had only been three months.
Sora had yet to be found.
And Demyx was the only one who remembered them.
"Well once I was out on this scouting mission with… someone… and I remember getting shocked badly…"
"Larxene Axel. Don't you remember her?"
"Who?"
"For some reason every time I walk by the lab I get an image of a tinkering figure… he seems old."
"Luxord that was Vexen."
"Vec what?"
"There's something that keeps annoying me. Sometimes in the gardens I think of these two people by the water fountain. One's big and quiet; the other is a callous prick. I can't recall ever meeting them. I think I'm hallucinating."
"Lexaeus and Zexion! Come on Roxas, don't you remember them?!"
"Please, I think I'd remember meeting people that ugly."
It didn't matter how hard he tried, he never got a positive response. The nothingness was taking them all away. They were forgetting things faster and faster. How much longer before they were all nothing but dust?
How much longer before he forgot…
His heart stopped cold. "Forgot… Forgot who? There were five weren't there?!"
He stood there in the halls stupidly, staring wide-eyed at white walls. "Larxene, Vexen, Zexion, Lexaeus… and who? Who else?!" Blood was rushing through his ears, his breath was rapid and before he knew it, his feet were moving, dashing down the halls. The echoing footsteps assaulted his ears.
He couldn't help but panic because he knew what he was forgetting was important. He was forgetting…
"No, no!"
He slammed into a door, barely noting the pain as he forced it open and with a slam, the room was revealed. He looked inside… searching… searching.
Nothing was there. Not a bed, not a desk, not a carpet. The place was vacant.
"But wait! They couldn't be!"
He ran to the adjacent door, twisting fiercely at the doorknob for a few moments, screaming frustrated curses when it refused to budge, unable to comprehend that it was locked. When it finally registered, he reached for it but his hands were shaking so bad he could barely turn the lock.
Click
He wretched it open with an almighty cry, staring so very hopefully within the white – too white – room.
The plants that were meant to be there were gone.
"No…" Demyx moaned, falling to his knees. "No…" He gripped his hair, quivering all over. "NO!!!"
He had forgotten.
It would probably be the only time in notable history that a Nobody cried.
"You look like you lost a bet."
Demyx lied on the opposite couch and stared blankly at the ceiling, ignoring Luxord. He didn't want to talk.
"Come on, I just get back and I don't even get a 'Welcome home! I missed you!'?"
Silence.
A sigh.
"Well, maybe this will cheer you up. I found an old pack of cards on my last mission."
Some scuffling and the sound of cards being shuffled.
"They're special though, they aren't like the cards I showed you. They're called tarot cards and they're for divination – that means prediction."
A soft snort of disbelief and Demyx turned his head away.
Soft slapping of cards hitting the table between them.
"Don't be a brat now. Just pick two alright?"
…
"Humor me at least."
…
"Demyx!"
"Alright, alright!" He yelled back in a huff, turned over and without looking, turned over two cards sloppily and looked at them. What he saw made his breath catch.
"Death and justice? That's ominous. You're going to die in the name of justice."
No, that wasn't it at all. That's not what it meant!
"It's a scythe! S-C-Y-T-H-E. Got it memorized?"
"…they are often called 'Bringers of Death'"
"He doesn't have a mind for symbolism, just for flowers and being gay."
The card, Death, was numbered XIII. And the picture was a simple scythe but it brought back memories of one much larger, more beautiful; one that seemed to come from a stem and blossom outwards in a deadly rose-colored blade like a poisonous flower.
The card, Justice, was numbered XI. And that's all he could see, was those haunting bold and black roman numerals like they were his whole life.
"Oh god." Demyx choked.
"Demyx?" Luxord called, disturbed by the strange outburst. "It's not so bad! These things are usually wrong anyways and I doubt-"
Without warning, he thoughtlessly snatched up another, his eyes scanning over it feverishly. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. VI: the Lovers. Two sides of a broken heart were meeting, becoming one.
The name came back, unbidden. "Marluxia."
"Demyx, you're starting to scare me lad."
"I want these cards."
"Wh-what!?"
Demyx looked up, his eyes narrowed coldly and determinedly. "I want these cards." He repeated, reaching for the other two.
"But I just- Demyx wait! Put those down!"
His hands tightened around the three cards, nearly crumpling them as he sprung from the room in a mad rush to get away.
"GET BACK HERE DEMYX!"
He wasn't going to forget again. He couldn't risk it.
"Forgive me Marluxia. I'll never forget you again."
He kept running, a strange giddy smile coming over his face as he recalled so many memories, so many stories, so many wonderful things.
"Never Salaamat never."
I always thought my first Kingdom Hearts fanfic would be about Sora – since I love him dearly – but my luck always turned out like this. I always seem to finish ones for gifts and never the ones I want to write myself. Although I must say it was fun! Hopefully everyone is as in-character as possible.
There is so much symbolism in this fanfic I'd die trying to say it all. The Tarot cards tell a lot. Also, a lot of echoing and foreshadowing. And yes, in the poker game Luxord was conning Demyx.
Props to Majickal for allowing me to use Edmy and Liamaru as Demyx's and Marluxia's 'real' names, and also for inspiring Demyx's home. (The Jungle Book for all of you who never watched it.) You're awesome girlfriend thanks! Everyone else, go read her fanfics! They're good! I especially hail to her A C R O N Y M series!
Marluxia's background comes from The Journey to Atlantis (Uncle Vinnie, get it?) and, for all who have played the game, Legend of Dragoon (Nello was a character from the town Fletz in Chapter 2.) I made Marluxia more American-seeming then anything though and Demyx more Indian. I was never very good at culture.
The Hindu words? I think they're right, but don't hold me to that. Though, I bet my money that our word soul mate does in fact come from Salaamat.
Also, I think it stands to say AkuRoku was implied, though you guys can believe whatever you want! Ha, Roxas was such a jerk but he really is an Anti-Sora.
Anyways, thanks for reading and please review!