Axel couldn't remember the last time he had seen him. He had stopped counting at day 500, and he felt like the number of days after he stopped counting must be 100x that.
He looked so different from back then. Roxas' blonde hair now fell down past his shoulders, and his face was cold, hard. He wore a weathered black leather trench coat ('Guess he's picked up my old sense of style,' Axel noted), a maroon button down shirt, dark jeans, and black boots. Axel watched him from his perch on the wall; he could see him turning something over & over in his hand as he sat on a bench across the courtyard. Whatever it was, Roxas' eyes were fixed on it. Axel squinted; it was a red cigarette lighter. 'I suppose he's picked up that bad habit just as I've quit,' he thought to himself.
He shook his head, trying to clear it of the ridiculous thought. It didn't matter if Roxas had started smoking. He would never know Axel had quit, because he would never even know that Axel was still alive. Too much time had passed; it was too late to just jump back in each other's lives. 'Roxas probably wouldn't even recognize me,' Axel thought. That wasn't entirely true. If Axel had recognized Roxas, Roxas would surely recognize him. He still had his characteristic tattoos under his eyes and flame-red spikes that shot out and down his back. However, his demeanor had completely changed. His eyes were full of sadness; gone was the vigor and excitement that had previously seemed to gush from every pore. And these days he didn't dress to impress: he dressed to blend in. He wore a black pea coat with a scarf bundled up around his neck, dark jeans, and black boots. Wherever he went he walked quickly, hands stuffed in his pockets, looking only straight ahead. His loneliness had stripped him of his arrogant swagger and mischievously gleaming eyes—he was just a shell of the old Axel.
Now, faced with what he had searched for for so long, he actually felt defeated. What was he going to do now? Walk up to Roxas and say, "Hey there, long time no see, wanna grab some lunch & catch up?"—when what he really wanted to say was, "Where have you been all these years?! I've been trying so hard to find you—did you even look for me at all?! Do you still care?!?!"
Axel hung his head, feeling a huge weight pressing down on his chest. He took a deep breath and blinked away the threat of tears in his eyes. 'I'll just take one last look, and then I'll go. At least I know he's safe,' he thought dejectedly to himself. He raised his head and looked across the courtyard at Roxas. The cold December wind blew Roxas' hair across his face; one hand still fingering the lighter, his free hand reached up and brushed the hair back. Axel closed his eyes, remembering all the times he himself had pushed the hair from Roxas' forehead like that. His eyes flew open. Everything inside him burned with anger. Why had Roxas been taken away from him?! The first person in his entire life that really made him feel, and they'd been torn apart. Cold sadness and regret washed away his anger as quickly as it had come. If only he had tried harder to keep Roxas from leaving the Organization…He gazed at Roxas, bidding him a silent farewell. Suddenly, his green eyes were sparked with a shot of bright blue: Roxas was staring right at him.