A gentle word. A kind look. That's all he really wanted. But Marluxia knew he'd never get it. IV was as cold as his element. He hardly gave the Assassin the time of day, let alone a moment of his time.
It infuriated him.
Granted, Marluxia had royally screwed things up back in Castle Oblivion. But that had been the same as Vexen always treated him: as though he was of no use. He had not ordered Axel to kill the Academic. Zexion did.
Marluxia scowled as he thought of that, setting down the shears he'd been using to prune the special rose bush he'd been working on so hard. That damned Schemer. Using an illusion of him to force Axel to do what he wanted. Marluxia still hadn't forgiven the youngest member of the organization. He never planned to.
When they all returned to life after Sora defeated the Superior, Marluxia had tried to explain. Vexen hadn't believed him. He still didn't. Marluxia sighed. Pushing away from the plant, he thought of how useless it was to keep trying.
Vexen didn't care. Couldn't, according to Xemnas. But, if that's true, why does the rejection hurt so much?
Marluxia left his room, just missing the pure blue rose blooming.
----
Vexen was not happy. The Superior's latest orders infuriated the Academic. Work with Marluxia? That traitor?!? The nerve! With luck, this experiment wouldn't take long, and Vexen would be back in his lab, perfectly content.
He didn't knock when he reached the assassin's door. He simple threw it open. "XI. We have orders to work together." Glancing around the room, he realized Marluxia wasn't even here. Scowling, he turned to leave, but something caught his eye.
Sitting on the table, next to an open book, sat a rosebush, with a single, perfect blue rose. Vexen stared at it. Blue roses were legend, nigh impossible to grow. How had he done it?
Turning his gaze to the open book, Vexen realized that it was a journal. Picking it up, he began to read.
June 6.
I've been working on the project for months, ever since we found ourselves alive again. I've wanted to prove to Vexen that I had nothing to do with his death, for he still doesn't believe me. I know nothing of science, but I have my botany. Perhaps that will bridge the gap.
June 9.
Another argument with Vexen. He refuse to believe me, and it hurts.
June 14.
He is now refusing to look at me. I have come to dread our meetings, for the cold words he uses. I feel like a delicate flower, suffering in the first frost.
June 20.
I haven't left my room for days, now. It's easier, so easier, to stay here and work on my project. seeking to create the blue rose is sure to be more fruitful than looking for any kindness from Vexen.
June 25.
Zexion was in the lounge, gloating to the others how he did it. How he went behind my back to order Vexen's death. Axel nearly killed him for using him. I wanted to kill Zexion for taking Vexen. Perhaps I'll sneak a cutting of Devil's snare into his bed.
July 1.
The bush is about to bloom, finally. But now I wonder, is this worth it? What will I do with it, if I succeed? I still can't face him. He hates me so deeply. What's the point? He wishes I would just die, and now I wonder if that would be so bad.
July 3.
It's blue. The bud hasn't opened yet, but I can tell. The exact, pure blue I'd hoped for. Now I have nothing to look forward to. Vexen still won't look at me, still hates me. I have found the botanist's Holy Grail. So what? There is nothing left for me now.
Vexen stared at the last line in the journal. 'Nothing left?' There is ALWAYS something that draws the Assassin's interest. He couldn't be serious about this. ...Zexion. He admits it? He has freely said that he is the one who had me killed?
Vexen rushed from the room, tracked down Axel. The Flurry of Dancing Flames was startled when Vexen questioned him, but confirmed the words in Marluxia's journal. He also apologized, but Vexen hardly heard it. Concern flooded his system, mingling with self-anger. How could he have been so stubborn and foolish?!?
----
Marluxia stood in the Dark City that surrounded the Castle that Never Was. What was the point? None of the others knew or cared that he had created his masterpiece, his life's work. He could see no reason to continue.
He sighed, the constant rain that fell on the City soaking him to the skin. He'd never been well liked. True, it was his ego. but not one had noticed the change in him over the past months. No one had noticed him at all.
Marluxia laughed suddenly. Xemnas was wrong. We must have hearts. Why else would it hurt so?
The scythe appeared in his hand, the blade sharp and strong enough to slice through steel. After today, they won't have to ignore me anymore. What's the point of ignoring something that no longer exists?