A while ago, one of my friends drew a piece of fanart for 'I'll Never Be Enough' as a Christmas present. It was so adorable that I made a fanfiction!

If you want to see what it was, her account name is Imvdragon on DeviantArt, and the picture's name is 'Merry Christmas: Cats-Eye-93' I advise you look at it; it is ADORABLE!

So, I wrote this because I felt like that picture deserved a back-story! Hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters used/mentioned. Square Enix owns them.

However, I DO own Cenchax, and he can NOT be used without my permission!

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Walk In The Rain

A Cat's Eye Fanfiction Inc. Production

To Matt, my friend for life. I love you! Thanks for the idea! And thanks EVEN MORE for the picture!

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A shiver ran down his spine as more icy water prickled his skin. He enjoyed the feel. He wished that it could sweep away the burning fever in his mind completely. Alas, it lifted the pain, not stopped it. But, at least he could enjoy the brief moments where the burden he carried was slightly lifted off his shoulders…

He trudged down the streets, content and calm, though he was far from peaceful. There was always a storm cloud in his mind, lightning scarring the delicate tissues, thunder disrupting his train of thoughts. Sometimes, it was so great that he was unable to keep it in, and let it out in actions that he never wanted to perform.

But, for now, he was content.

He shifted his raven's nest hair over his right eye, his red tips dancing as he pushed them away. In vain, he tried to see clearly, squinting, but he only winced as the scabs and scars rubbed against each other, and could see little more than distant movements and a blur of color. It was best not to see out of it at all…

His mocha-colored eye closed, its one-of-a-kind brilliance hidden from the world. He sighed, aggravated, yet still calm. Though he couldn't see out of that eye, he knew that there was no point in trying. He knew it was going to happen. Since the day he had first picked up a knife to slash it, he knew it would never be able to see the same way. But, he could at least hope that, maybe one day, he could salvage what was left of the sightless appendage…

At least he was out and about. Not that he didn't like living with 13 other people. If he had a heart, he knew he'd love each and every one of the members like a sister or a brother…And maybe even more in some cases. But, regardless of his heart's absence, he knew he felt a bond with them all.

However, it was nice to get away once in a while, to enjoy the solitude, the loneliness, the serenity…

And, it was nice to be pelted by freezing rain.

He was back on the streets he had once roamed, to visit a few of his less painful haunts. He had visited his old apartment, only to find that a new family had moved in. Only by smooth talking had he been invited in; he had convinced the other family that he wasn't a threat and that he was simply from a 'Union' and taking a survey. He had walked through the house to find the old bloodstains gone; when he asked if they had to repaint, the couple said something along the lines of, 'Oh, a painter must've lived here; gross shades of red covered the walls! It took weeks to repaint!'

Everything he used to own was gone; probably at one of his old friend's house which would never recognize him. He wondered how they were briefly, but reminded himself that it was best to keep away, or else…

He had tried to see if at least one of his friends, Pete, had remembered him, but Pete took one look at him and asked, 'Sir, can I help you? Are you new here?'

So, what Zexion said was true. No one does recognize me.

The teen sighed, walking down his old street. It was the same street he had walked on only minutes before his death. He remembered it so vividly. Each raindrop that had hit his skin on that day seemed to have soaked his brain and absorbed into the memory. Each slash that had slowly stolen his life seemed embedded on his skin, making no scar, but reminding him forever. Even the nearly silent sounds his protagonists had made seemed to have forced itself in his ears, making it seem as though it could've just happened 5 seconds ago, instead of weeks or months ago…He didn't even know how long ago it was. It didn't matter to him anymore, and the days seemed to blend into each other, into an endless cycle.

What had he been thinking about that day? He shoved away all painful thoughts; now wasn't the time to be depressed. He should enjoy his few moments of calm loneliness before returning to the Organization, where pain would greet him with open, accepting arms. He recollected his memories of that day, trying to find what he had been thinking of. After a few minutes of thinking, he remembered. He had been thinking about why he seemed so odd and out of place.

Well, aside from the obvious. Even back when he was alive, his hair color had been a strange navy, and not everyone had dark red tips. His eye-color would've been normal, save the orange bits. But, his tattoos and armbands took away the cake, classifying him as an emo freakazoid.

Now, he looked twice as strange, with his new section of strangely-parted, spiky hair on his left side, and not to mention the brilliant blue swirls.

He looked down into a puddle, observing himself for the first time in weeks. He didn't particularly care for his own looks, but even HE bothered to look into a mirror every once in a while. His eyes augmented slightly in surprise. He hadn't realized it, but he was wearing the exact same outfit that he had when he died; the navy shirt, though now stitched together thanks to the Graceful Assassin, was the same one, and so was the pants and socks. His armbands were always the same, and it wasn't like he was going to get his tattoos removed.

He DID look like an oddity, though. By his friend's standards, he was as normal as a traumatized boy could be, but by everyday standards, even without knowing about him, he was classified as a freak…

He chuckled. That's why no one bothered with him. His friends did, sure, but no stranger would. And, even his friends wouldn't be insane enough to walk with him now.

Ah. He remembered one of his last thoughts before the attack:

But who in their right mind would walk with him through the icy-cold rain?

No one. That's who. The icy rain was friend to him and him alone. Perhaps the Chilly Alchemist or the Melodious Nocturne might feel pleased, but none of them felt the same sense of composure that he did. He was the only one who found the stinging icy rain to be soothing caresses. If anyone in the Organization had suffered a painful past, it wasn't painful to the point where they need to find solace in such a frigid, pelting form. Only he was weak to the point where he needed to be comforted by the inhuman.

He looked up at the sky, listening to the pitter-patter of the raindrops. He had long-ceased walking, and though the street was usually busy, the rain had driven even the most daring drivers and bikers home. He smiled to himself; it was a mixture of content and bitter.

"Who would walk with me through the icy-cold rain…?" he asked the dark gray clouds above him. No matter how many times someone said the words, 'I care' to him, he knew that they wouldn't care enough to walk through the icy rain. It was an established fact, stated at the beginning of his time, and it still held true today.

Or so he thought.

"I would…"

He tensed in surprise, a small gasp escaping him. He turned around, eyes wide. He hadn't expected someone to answer. A portal was opened up, showing that the voice had come through whoever was on the other side. It was the portal that the teen was familiar with, and used every day for a very long time. Yet it was the most alien thing in the world to see it right here, right now.

Out walked a black-clad figure. He wore a leather coat, with deep grooves on the chest and on the sleeves to create several squares and shapes, making the stranger appear more filled out than he seemed. The coat traveled down to the stranger's shins, with several grooves following the coat down to the bottom. A silver zipper traveled down to his waist, pulled up all the way to his collar. At his waist, a silver rectangular stopped the zipper, and the coat split in two different directions, with zipper teeth lining them. This allowed the stranger to move freely. He wore black leather pants, and the same shade boots, shining in the rain. His sleeves reached his wrists, and when the sleeves stopped, shiny gloves covered his hands, the same shade of midnight. A silver chain hung around his neck, with an engraved pattern on the beads at the end of it. Two identical chains hung from his hood, ending with a rectangular bead with the same pattern. His black hood was drawn over his head, but the black-haired teen could recognize the stranger's golden blonde spike. They were impossible to hide; even under the hood, his bangs stuck on his face, plastered by the rain. His brilliant blue eyes searched him, and he looked nervous and skitterish, and maybe even a bit bashful.

The black-haired boy stared, trying to repress the faint flutter of butterfly wings in his stomach. The boy in front of him shivered, as though he had been in the rain for a while, and the cold was finally seeping through his leather coat. Come to think of it, now that the mocha-eyed teen noticed, the boy's coat was slick and shining with rain, and the drops still falling from the sky rolled off of it effortlessly.

"Roxas? What are you doing here…?" the black-haired teen asked hesitantly.

The newly identified stranger—Roxas—paused. His cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold, and his breath created a cool mist every time he breathed out. His eyes traveled down to his boots, which scuffled the ground. He straightened up, and his cheeks flushed just a little bit more as he murmured, "I was looking for you…"

The mocha-eyed teen felt his face heat up as his eyes widened further. "You should've stayed home, dude! It's freezing cold outside…!" he protested. Though he didn't mind the icy cold rain, he was an acceptation in the human race, by the fact that he had no heart but tended to resist sickness and even death better. And by the limits of Nobodies, he was an acceptation, too, healing faster than his fellow friends. He wouldn't mind catching a cold, or even hypothermia if he was lucky, but the last thing he wanted was to be responsible for his friend's sickness…

But what he didn't account for was that his friend wouldn't want him getting sick, either…

"That's why I came…" Roxas breathed. He blushed even more, and held out an umbrella, which sheltered Cenchax from the cold. His blue eyes still didn't look up. "You're cold, too, aren't you? Besides…" His blush deepened more. "You'll get sick if you stay out in the rain, Cenchax…"

The newly-identified Cenchax flushed an even darker color. The rain stopped pouring on him, thanks to the umbrella, but his burden was lifted off him more; Roxas made him feel like that, whenever his kindness dawned on the emotionally-challenged teen. And though the cold air surrounded him, he felt as though his skin was burning with a fever that couldn't be chilled by Arctic ice. He couldn't believe that one of his friends had actually gone through the trouble of looking for him in the freezing rain…And of all his friends, Roxas, the one who had captured his non-existent heart since the first day he had walked into the Castle. It surprised him even further to see firsthand that Roxas had cared enough to spend the time walking through the pouring rain to find him. Who knew how long Roxas had been searching before he had found the soaking teen?

"Cenchax…?"

The black-haired teen looked down at Roxas, whose higher-pitched teenage voice had pierced through his racing thoughts, and paused them, at least for the moment. .

"May I…Walk with you for a bit…?" Roxas asked.

Cenchax froze, unable to reply to the generous offer at first. Roxas held out the umbrella, which the mocha-eyed boy studied to great length; it was light green with a light brown handle, and large enough to cover two people, so long as they stayed close. He tried to hide his shivering body—for he wasn't shivering because he was cold. He was shivering at the sudden show of affection Roxas was showing him. This simple action was an action sweeter than normal friendly gestures…Adding to the fact that Roxas had spent so much time looking for him, through such bad weather…Could this be a sign that Roxas cared?

Had Cenchax finally found the one to walk in the rain with…?

He smiled, his eyes half-closing. "It'll be cold, dude…"

"I…I still want to come…If you wanna walk…So…Do I…" the blonde stammered, blushing harder and harder. His level of cuteness went up with each shade of red he got, not to mention the fact that he seemed to shrink with each new shade of ruby, as though he were trying to hide away from anything cruel that Cenchax would throw at him. Cenchax didn't react the way he normally did; instead of getting even more embarrassed, he smiled kindly, a light blush on his face. He knew that he had no reason to be afraid of letting his emotions free, and knew that he had no need to get embarrassed. This was something Roxas had given to him freely. He was free to take the offer without feeling like his secret was in jeopardy.

He took Roxas's hand gently, and pulled him closer, so that Roxas could be under the umbrella as well. The blonde's head bumped into his chest, and he felt sparks of emotions fly from the contact. And, perhaps he wasn't the only one feeling the sparks. Perhaps, Roxas felt them, too?

"Well, then, you'd better get under the umbrella, dude! I don't want YOU getting sick!" Cenchax muttered good-humoredly. The younger Nobody looked up at him in surprise. Then, he smiled. He gripped onto Cenchax's hand. Cenchax leaned away, slightly embarrassed, but he said nothing, and simply smiled the nervous feelings off. Though he knew there was no need to be afraid—at least for now—he was still nervous. He had never done things like this before. He took the lead, leading Roxas down the streets he used to know.

Could Roxas actually be the one who would travel through the storms with him? To block the lightning? To silent the thunder? To lift the burden and bury it away?

"Who would walk with me through the icy-cold rain…?"

"I would…"

The scene traveled through his head multiple times. His smiled widened, and he gripped Roxas's hand just a bit tighter. Roxas pressed closer to him, shivering, trying to get as much heat as he could from the closeness.

Sharing an umbrella, walking in the icy rain, without the appropriate clothing…

Maybe someone DOES want to walk with me…

THE END

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So, one last time: Thanks, Matt for the picture, and I hope you liked this fanfiction! ^^

~Cat's Eye