A/N: This has been rewritten!

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There was always alot of us. Fourteen to be exact. We hardly ever met up in one big group, but we spent a majority of our time in the same room. Not always together, but not entirely apart. Fourteen people who all shared the exact same classes. Only us fourteen in the whole class. It was strange really, our high school was massive, no doubt about that, yet we were just shoved into the class with a register and a planner to boot. We still managed to have a group social standing despite our closeness.

Zexion, Demyx and Xigbar; the labelled punks and ones who had alot more strength and intelligence than they seemed. Xigbar hung around them for Demyx, Demyx hung around for Zexion, and Zexion was oblivious with his nose in a book the majority of the time.

Then there was Saix and Xemnas, social retards and ones who refused to talk apart from in grunts.

Then Luxord, Vexen, Xaldin and Lexaeus, the smartest in the class apart from Zexion, who was a year younger than all of us anyway. Then there was me, Roxas, Namine, Axel and her.

We were all best friends at one point, the four of us. But Axel grew apart from Roxas, and Roxas got closer to Namine. Namine only stuck around because she was her sister. Roxas stuck because he was dating Namine, and Axel hung around because he was a backstabbing traitor.

I and Axel had been friends for years. Sure, we had our petty little arguments, but who didn't? Two boys with raging hormones nearly always argue and certainly fight. But then we met her. Her name was Larxene, and from the moment I saw her, I was screwed. Totally Cliché, right?

Anyway, Axel being my closest friend, I confided in him that I liked the new girl. Two months later, after all my best efforts to win Larxene over, I argued with Axel, and the next day Larxene was his. I was her best friend now, not his. She was the only reason I still hung around.

She would sit and talk constantly to Axel, but he never could be bothered to listen. I did though. Of course I did. Axel was always kicked in the balls when she realized he wasn't paying attention. When I'd get a call later on in the day, I'd be able to answer with the answers she wanted, and she would cry over how much of a good friend I was.

She truly was beautiful. Soft, bright blonde hair that shone in the sun, complimented with shocking, electrifying green eyes. Oh how I adored her. My own hair was bright pink, and she would often comment on how natural it looked, whilst twiddling it around in her fingers. I always told her it was, but she never believed me.

Eventually I summed up enough courage to tell her how I felt. Oh how she wept. Crying so hard telling me she loved me so much it was unbelievable, and I was happy. And then she said the dreaded word: But. She said we could never be together. She stayed with Axel for five more months, completely stopped talking to me for the final three, until I snapped from stress and annoyance.

Watching my own funeral was strange and fearful. Unnatural, yet so right as I watched the entire class turn up, most of them weeping. Yet I felt a pang of satisfaction at the visible pain she was going through when she collapsed at my gravestone, pushing everyone away and screaming at me to come back, that she missed me and always loved me. My death broke the walls that held her together and hid the real Larxene. I vaguely wondered how she felt when she found my broken body. How she felt when she was forced to ring the ambulance to take away a dead body, whilst she held onto the glimmer of hope that I could still be alive.

Maybe I would have never died had she left Axel for me all those years ago. Maybe, just maybe, I would have never taken that walk in the rain to sort out my thoughts, and then maybe I would have seen that car coming. Maybe I'd still be there, with her by my side.

Larxene was the electricity that fuelled me, but in the end she was too late to save me.

When she enters heaven, I'll give her the same words I'd given her on the phone seconds before I got hit by that car; a rose will wilt, if never properly nurtured... You refuse to nurture me.