Author's Note

Shame there couldn't be fancier formats. I would say that this story looks better full-screen. And so I decided to type this story up since I had it written on paper since July 30th of 2007. After all these months, it was interesting to read through as I typed because a lot of it I forgot I included. Forgive me; it had been years since I ever wrote non-stop. The end of a two-year writer's block.

Disclaimer: Characters and general setting are copyrighted to Disney and Square-Enix. The faerie tale compilation mentioned below belongs to the brothers Grimm. I own only a copy of Kingdom Hearts 2 and the Grimms' Tales For Young and Old: The Complete Stories book.

Onward!

A New Kind of Company

Chapter One

Ahh… The good smell of old tales forever bound in paper. The library was wonderfully the place he wanted to be now. No more objectives, no more orders, no more seeing those weird little Nobodies prowl the castle's halls, no more "chores" (like keeping the other Nobodies in line, those blinking fools), no more pyros playing pranks, no more stress… just for the rest of the day but what's there to complain about? In short, Zexion was relaxing for the day today. Good times.

Then, taking a step with a soft thud of his boot on the library floor, he held out a hand, letting his gloved fingers wander the nearby bookshelf and along the many spines of books; paperback and all, in search of an evening's read for the day. He almost didn't have to look at the books since searching for an evening's read for the day was a daily thing. And everyday, he'd feel like a different story or book of course: Today, he felt like… a faerie tale, one that's not so corny or about true love. Yeah… That's what he feels like reading right about now.

Slowly withdrawing his hand from the shelf, Zexion made his way across the somewhat shimmering marble floor towards the bookcase closest to the window: the section for faerie tales, and religion and philosophy. Moonlight shone through that grand bay window. Bright. But then, here in The World That Never Was, it was always dark out and Kingdom Hearts is the moon so getting blinded by walking by the window in the dim library was actually pretty usual for Zexion anyways. Now standing before the large selection of tales, he contemplated on which of them would most likely arrest his attention for a good while. After all, it's his downtime for the third mention. A gloved hand wandered the shelf at eye level now, touching the rather vitreous spine of a large paperback book. Steel blue eyes scanned that particular book, taking in sight the olive-green colour, the golden-yellow trim, and on the spine the downsized image of a Renaissance painting of a child in a red hood holding a basket. In bold letters, the spine read Grimms' Tales For Young and Old: The Complete Stories.

Now sliding out the paperback compilation, Zexion whisked it off towards his favourite reading place by another bay window. Once he reached the familiar mahogany table and couch, he settled himself down comfortably and opened the book. Finally some relaxation!

For minutes now, the sophisticated Nobody had been flipping through the pages, skimming along to find interesting sounding short stories he can bookmark so he could read them later. So, for quite some time, Zexion was busy bookmarking specific pages in preparation for better relaxation. Whoo hoo. Now getting down to business! He began to read.

An hour passed. The moonlight was getting so hazy to read in tonight but the print was still safely legible for the Shadow Walking Tactician. The library had the silence he liked and so revel in it he must.

Once there was a miraculous fiddler who was going through the woods all by himself, thinking of this and thinking of that, and when he was good and sick of thinking he said to himself: "The time hangs heavy on my hands out here in the woods. What I need is a good companion."

Then, he heard it: a loud Whoop! echoing throughout the once-tranquil library. And he hadn't read through the first passage of this short story already! He furrowed his eyebrows. How dare anyone break the silence of the room! Whosoever did this shall surely pay… The noise came again, this time closer and he recognised the vocal before the scent to be that of Demyx, that blasted noisy Nobody. Good golly. Sinking deeper into the plush couch, Zexion held the 655-page book up to hide himself quickly.

Then he took his fiddle from his back and played a tune that went ringing through the trees.

The singing came again, this time remained uninterrupted. Zexion sank more into the couch, and held the weighty book up higher, thus concealing himself as much as possible in the dim library and attempted to continue reading through that racket.

It wasn't long before a wolf came trotting through the thicket. "Ah, here comes a wolf," said the fiddler. "That's not what I want." But the wolf came closer and spoke to him: "Oh, my dear fiddler, how beautifully you play! I wish I could learn to play like that." "It's easy," said the fiddler. "You just have to do everything I say." "O fiddler," said the wolf. "I shall obey you as a pupil obeys his teacher." The fiddler bade him come along, and after a while they came to an oak tree that was hollow inside and split down the middle. "Here we are," said the fiddler. "If you want to learn how to play, put your forepaws into this crack." When the wolf complied, the fiddler quickly picked up a stone and with one blow wedged the wolf's paws in so tight that he was held fast like a prisoner. "Wait here till I get back," he said, and went his way.

That almost white noise stopped abruptly just when it was practically at his feet. Zexion wasn't gonna look up for the reason that it wasn't in his daily schedule. 'Go away,' he fiercely thought. The book was getting tiresome to hold up. "Hi!" the noisy intruder greeted, almost uncertainly, somewhat cheerfully, "Uh… Was I too loud? I didn't know… someone else would be here."

A little while later he said to himself again: "The time hangs heavy on my hands out here in the woods; I'll get myself another companion." He took his fiddle and again the music went ringing through the woods. It wasn't long before a fox came slinking through the trees. "Ah, here comes a fox," said the fiddler. "That's not what I want."

"Umm…" This drawn-out interjection from the distraction made the schemer look up from his book. "So…," the Melodious Nocturne's voice trailed off as soon as he noticed the steel-blue eye staring at him from over the large book, "Uh… I kinda forgot your na—wait." Demyx's eyes, Zexion could have sworn, turned a brighter emerald-green before he commenced to step forward a bit just to glimpse the book's title. The steel-blue eye returned to the page now. As long as No. 9 doesn't come any closer than he himself can stretch out his leg, he's fine.

The fox came up to him and said: "Oh, my dear fiddler, how beautifully you play! I wish I could learn to play like that." "It's easy," said the fiddler. "You just have to do everything I say." "O fiddler," said the fox, "I shall obey you as a pupil obeys his teacher." "Follow me," said the fiddler. After a while they came to a path with high bushes on either side. The fiddler stopped, took hold of a hazel tree, bent it down to the ground from one side, and stepped on the tip. Then he bent another tree down from the other side and said: "Very well, friend fox, if you want to learn something, give me your left forepaw." The fox obeyed and he tied it to the lefthand tree.

Now he was aware of the other weight on the plush couch. Much closer than he could even stretch out a foot. "Do you need something, No. 9?" the tactician inquired quietly, not even looking up from his reading. Sensing the musician sink back into the couch to the left of him, Zexion turned his head slightly to notice the distraction looking towards the book in hand. Then, a nervous flash of pearly whites just about blinded the schemer the way the moonlight did earlier. "I-I just wanted to see what kinda book that is," the Nocturne stammered and looked away towards the marble ground as if Zexion's superiority demanded that or be trampled on that very ground with a lexicon on back and pearly whites biting into cracked marble. Lovely thought.

"I'm reading a compilation of short stories that are solely faerie tales," the tactician calmly explained in his somewhat smooth quiet voice and looked back at the page, "Is there anything else you need?" He finally set the book down on his lap; it was simply too weighty to hold up to face-level. "Just a place to hide out," the blonde blurted, "I hope you don't mind." Moving his grey-blue eyes from the book, Zexion set his gaze on Demyx. "You were singing a while ago," the tactician stated, "…and loudly as well. Very discreet of you, No. 9."

"W-wait…," the musician quickly moved backwards and held up gloved hands in defense, shaking slightly, "Erm… I didn't mean that… I-I already know they won't look in here. They just didn't like my singing was all, umm… What's your name again…? I… forgot." Did the brat actually ask his name? "Why?" the young man trying to read questioned, inwardly annoyed, "Do you need it?" He could've sworn there was a slight blush on the other's face. He looked like he wanted to bail off the couch and run screaming. Demyx looked away. "It's just awkward trying to talk around a name I don't remember yet, man," he muttered, sounding defeated, "…but that's beside the point." He looked back at his superior with a cheeky grin on his face. "You're actually talking to me," the musician said, "You're nicer than what the others say."

"I see…," Zexion mused, insofar uninterested, picking up the compilation of a book and easing it onto the inside of his left forearm in order to bear the weight and to read much easier.

"Friend fox," he said, "now give me your right forepaw," and he tied it to the righthand tree. When he had made sure the knots were tight enough, he let go. The bushes sprang back, lifting the fox up with them, and he found himself wriggling in midair. "Wait here till I get back," said the fiddler, and went his way.

Once again he said to himself: "The time hangs heavy on my hands out here in the woods; I'll get myself another companion." He took his fiddle and the music rang through the woods.

"What's your name?" Demyx repeated, "I… just wanna know… Now that I need it or anything but, well… I… you know…" Zexion set the book down on his lap again. "No, I don't know what you're trying to say. Just call me No. 6. What's in a name to you?" the tactician lifted his eyes to him as he spoke still in a calm tone. The Melodious Nocturne stared back at him, a frown slowly forming. "Now I'm depressed!" he cried in a higher tone, face hidden in his hands already, "Since when did names ever matter?! They never did!" The tactician sighed: this was getting a bit much to try to even ignore. The brat was a definite distraction. And this was his downtime, dammit! "Names never were important," the blonde sobbed, "I could just be called 'Hey, you' or… or even 'Nobody' or… anything for that matter and it wouldn't do anything to me at all!" He basically bawled out those last two words before going back to whimpering over the meaningless matter. The boy had always been the most sensitive anyway. Makes for an interesting subject for the study of the heart and the mind.

"I'm sorry," Demyx suddenly turned entirely to Zexion while placing a hand on his own chest to indicate himself, "Am I bothering you? You're not gonna yell at me like the others, right? Right?" Wasn't he just crying a moment ago? "Now I'm talking a lot," the musician realized, in a contemplative pose, "I just want to talk with someone!" He threw his arms up towards the ceiling. "Is that so much to ask for?!" No. 9 cried out in a high voice, "The others don't wanna talk to me because they hate my singing, for crying out loud!" Silence ensued.

Zexion leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes. Okay, the subject's delirious but still good for study. "Go talk to No. 13," the schemer calmly suggested, "Frankly, he would understand you better than I would." He could feel his stare now. "But that's the thing," Demyx muttered, "I forgot everyone by number… Wait." Another silence. "Oh yeah!" he exclaimed with a snap of the finger and thumb, "That's Roxas but…" A sigh, "…he's busy with who-knows-what. Probably some pranks." The Shadow Walking Tactician could sense the musician leaning closer and leaned away from him, opening his steel-blue eyes. Before he could even ask his business, Demyx smiled toothily, "You're really a nice guy! You don't mind me hanging around you, right? The others have a short fuse but you don't seem to." Zexion looked away from those pearly whites. "Maybe No. 8 can talk to you," he muttered, "I have nothing to talk with you about." He just wanted to read.

"Sure you have a lot to say!" the Melodious Nocturne said and placed a gloved slender hand on his shoulder, not noticing him flinch, "All that reading… There must be something to mention." That flashy grin again. Some creeping blush too. What does this neophyte want? "Umm…," a slight more blush, "…talk to me…?" Zexion kept his eyes on the boy's eyes, searching for any signs of further movement. "Say something…?" a deeper blush, "Anything…? A… story or a… something…?" He quickly removed his hand from that superior shoulder, that grin getting more nervous. Just why is this brat blushing? The boy just about shrank from him once his senior so much as opened his mouth.

"Why do you blush?" Zexion questioned with a hint of curiosity. Was this boy expecting a beatdown? Ha, a laugh and another to even imagine Zexion doing that. Demyx's eyes widened a little as if caught off guard. He quickly put his own hands to his own face now as if trying to warm it if it were a cold day. He had on a bashful grin now. "Uh… Umm… By golly I can blush…?" The steel-blue-haired one set the book on the table now. Perhaps he can try the boy's endurance and fear. More like, picking on him.

Now, the neophyte was shaking, obviously afraid of the fact that he couldn't tell if Zexion was enraged. That tactician sure has complacency. Or composure. Who knows? It was amusing to see the taller one like this anyway, waiting to incur his imagined wrath. Of course, the senior Nobody was just gonna talk at him about his blushing because who in their mind would blush because of the seniority of others?

"Intriguing," Zexion quietly stated, observing the shaking Nobody, "I thought you needed only a place to hide. But no… There's something more if you're blushing. You're looking for someone. You know… I prefer an immediate answer; that way, I need not deal with you for much longer. What are you here for? Are you really hiding? Or… do I not want to know?" The blonde stayed in that corner of the plush couch, still shaking and whimpering, slender gloved hands seeming to shield his blonde head. After a couple minutes of this unintended intimidation, Demyx quietly held up his hands slowly as if surrendering. "All right, all right," he strongly voiced, a quick blush coming on as he set his foot, one by one, on the marble floor, now standing, "I can't plan ahead of time when I'm on the run… from the others, you know."

Suddenly, turning towards the shorter youth, No. 9 flashed a nervous pearly-white grin. "I guess I came at a wrong time…," he sighed, bowing his head though the blush was still visible as he placed a hand on his own nape. No. 6 still sat there on the couch, now glaring up at the Melodious Nocturne. Does that mean he'd finally have some peace and quiet to read? Zexion then opened his mouth to inquire but leaned backwards quite some as the musician's slender hand with the index finger raised suddenly appeared in his face. "But don't worry!" Demyx cheekily grinned, wagging his forefinger in his face while still lightly blushing, "I will be back!" And he bounded off for the exit, whistling a catchy tune; and once reaching the door, he turned around entirely towards the steel-blue-haired Nobody and waved jauntily. Then he moved his waving hand to his own mouth, kissed it, and and threw his hand out towards No. 6 in another wave though with a blushing smile before banging out the door.

Zexion blinked. What was up with that gesture? Oh well: downtime. Finally he can get back to some damn reading! He blinked again: he still didn't get answers from the neophyte though. He sighed and looked at the book on the table. Except there was no book. He picked up a scent of darkness now. Then he sighed, a little loudly before proceeding to fight off a headache by lightly pinching the bridge of his nose: Demyx had taken his book.