The Passing of a Rebellion
By Sofri
A/n: Now…this is my first yaoi, so please be nice about it. Written for 8.13. Song is "Tears on my Pillow" from Grease.
Disclaimer: I don't own KH or Grease.
Summary: A rebellious song played in memory of a rebel helps the anger to pass from one nonexistent heart to the next [Mild Akuroku [For 8.13
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The Passing of a Rebellion
In a gray, desolate room, in a gray, desolate castle in a gray, desolate world, two things brought color to the sere and lonely landscape. One was a tangled mass of flaming red hair, in such disarray that one could easily believe it had not been brushed for weeks (as was the truth). The second was a pair of grass-in-April green eyes, attached to the head that was attached to the flaming mane, their startling verdure reflected in several tiny, perfect, diamond-like tears that spattered the ragged grey pillow a few inches below the face.
If you were to couple this sorry sight with the pitiful, abject whimpers and sniffles that came from the slightly pointed nose and thin-lipped mouth located just below the emerald eyes, you would realize that the figure inhabiting this gray, desolate room was in the deepest depths of despair. As indeed he was.
The name of the man by whom the neglected, near-scarlet locks of hair, the thin-featured face, the verdant eyes, and the ragged, now tear-soaked pillow was Axel, and he was not a man at all, but a Nobody, eighth in the heartless ranks of Organization XIII, the cruel, conniving group of outcasts that called this gray, desolate world their home, controller of fire, inventor of the phrase "Got it Memorized,"…and currently in tears over the loss of his best friend.
Roxas…Roxas…the blonde little snip who used to annoy him so much with his constant depression and self-pity, who dragged him out of bed at all hours just to go and get sea-salt ice cream, who, unlike every other member of the Organization, actually possessed a still-living Somebody and; therefore, the faintest hope of someday being whole…but despite all this, his best friend.
Screw that. Former best friend. Roxas hadn't a clue who Axel was anymore. He'd grown tired of this search for nothing, this endless hunt for hearts that was doomed never to come to fulfillment, tired of being Superior's pawn in a game they were doomed never to win, tired of seeking, never finding, for answers as to why the Keyblade had chosen him.
And so Roxas had become a rebel.
He'd run away. Searching for answers, for the fulfillment that the Organization, and even his best friend Axel, could no longer provide. And he'd been caught, and his memories taken from him as he was thrust into a different and equally dangerous game by that rotting red corpse, DiZ, and his little pet witch, Naminé.
Not that attempts at reclamation hadn't been made. The crimson-haired Flurry, once the Key's "best friend"…even now, Axel could hear the derision and scorn breaking Superior's voice from its habitual monotone, the thoughts hidden behind the normally inscrutable amber eyes now quite visible: Nobodies can't feel friendship, you fool. This is your punishment for thinking you could…had been chosen to journey to Twilight Town, to convince the amnesiac Roxas to come back once and for all to the Organization.
But…but…
It was that encounter that had left the normally confident flame wielder sobbing his guts out onto the unsuspecting pillow. Even now, the memory of the blankness in those beautiful cerulean eyes, the anger in that melodic voice as it demanded "Who are you?"…the metallic clink! of chakram on Keyblade as they fought, the horrible knowledge eating at Axel's brain that for the first time, this was not a friendly spar. …
So he'd returned, feeling as desolate as his room looked, and proceeded to give display to his grief and loss. It had started with anger, as the now blackened and scorch-marked blanket could attest to, and spiraled down through pity, denial, and guilt, before finally ending in outright despair.
Not even lifting his eyes from the bed, Axel reached out a pale, listless hand and turned on the beat-up gray radio beside his bed. After a few seconds of static, melancholy chords began to echo through the room, soon accompanied by a mellow tenor voice and his deep bass backups.
You
don't remember me,
but I remember you
't
was not so long ago,
you broke my heart in two
Tears on my
pillow,
pain in my heart,
caused by you….You, you
It was a rebellious song, a song Superior would have him turned into a Dusk even for listening to. The mention (even in music) of a heart not prefixed by the words "no," "nonexistent," or "lacking a," was the severest offense in the Castle that Never Was.
But as the words truly began to penetrate Axel's grief-fogged brain, an eerily similarity to the Nobody's own life was soon realized. His hand stayed a few inches from the dial, as the words of the song set the aforementioned brain's train of thought onto a previously unexplored track.
Said track was not a safe one—not like the tiny match-stick tracks in one of those wooden train displays one often saw at museums that went round and round, in endless circles full of gently rolling hills, smiling conductors, and cotton-ball smoke. It was more like the track of a runaway mining cart, broken and ill-tended, careening around blind curves and through deep gulches before ending just at the brink of a horrible, swirling abyss, giving one only time for a single thought before one was sent to an inevitable, screaming doom—and that thought was, I wish I had known.
Well, not always. Sometimes, that thought was "OMG I'M GONNA DIE BY FALLING INTO A HORRIBLE SWIRLING ABYSS WHAT THE HECK AM I GONNA DO OH NO OH NO!!" But this is Axel's story, and Axel's last thought would have been, I wish I had known, so that is the last thought mentioned in this story.
Anyway, at the words "broke my heart in two," Axel's train of thought set off on that fatal mining-cart track that inevitably led to the horrible swirling abyss. Ignoring the reference to "heart," for of course he didn't have one, the Flurry of Dancing Flames contemplated a question:
Did Roxas's leaving break my heart?
Did Roxas break my heart?
Wait. I don't have a heart.
Let's assume I did.
If I had had a heart, would Roxas's leaving have broken it?
That one took a while, but Axel soon decided that the answer was "Yes".
So why did he break my metaphorical heart?
Because he was my best friend. I hated to see him go.
Only your best friend??
What are you talking about?
You cared about him, right??
Yes, of course I cared about him. I was worried for him. I knew Superior or that King Tut and Wicked Witch of the West would do something awful to him.
But did you care more than you should have cared?
What do you mean "should have cared"?
If anyone else in the Organization had left, would you be crying your eyes out and burning your bedsheets?
…Probably not…
So, you see…
Oh darn. No. You don't mean...
I do mean…
Don't ask it!
I'm asking it.
So, after this rather lengthy inner discussion, the depressed redhead had come to two conclusions: One, if Roxas and Sora ever did become one, Sora would go crazy, because having a voice in your head that belonged to you was bad enough, but Axel couldn't even imagine having one that belonged to a totally separate person. Two, his train of thought had reached the horrible, swirling abyss, and the abyss was a question:
Do I love Roxas??
Thankfully, the train of thought was brought to a grinding, creaking, squealing halt with its front wheels already teetering over the edge of the horrible, swirling abyss that was one awful question by two occurrences. One, was the realization that the next bars of the rebellious song had already been emitted from the ancient radio. They went something like this:
If
we could start anew,
I
wouldn't hesitate
I'd gladly take you back,
and
tempt the hands of fate
Tears on my pillow,
pain
in my heart,
caused by you, you, you, you, you
Two (and though this was a rather unfortunate event, it was redeemed slightly by the fact that it stopped Axel from pondering the above lines, which would have almost certainly sent him into the horrible swirling abyss of internal debates,) the unmistakable crackling noise of an opening portal of darkness was heard a few inches from Axel's ear.
Leaping to his feet, the tearstained Flurry turned to fact the furious amber eyes of none other than Xemnas, the Superior, the Founder and Number One of the Organization Thirteen.
"Axel," the Superior intoned in his normal monotone, just as the Flurry's right hand shot out and silenced the radio, "Axel, that is enough."
The scarlet-haired man waited for Xemnas to inform him exactly what was enough. Within a few moments, the Superior obliged.
"That is enough," he repeated, "First, as if these displays of false emotion weren't enough—look at your hair, and your robe, in such an awful state, and tears of all things…" Scorn once again marred the monotone.
Axel felt the beginnings of a feral growl rising in his throat. They weren't fake! I really did miss Roxas, I really was sad!
"But now, listening to this awful, rebellious music! Mentions of heart, and love, and tears, and emotion…and ugh, it's just too much. Ugh."
To this day, Axel would tell you that it was that final Ugh, coupled with the expression of unhidden disgust in those stupid amber eyes, as though the flame haired man had just told him a dirty secret that caused Xemnas to shun him like an infectious disease, that set him off.
Somewhere within the empty cavity of his chest, Axel answered the question of the abyss. A single small word, spoken only in his mind…but the single small word changed everything.
In an instant, the word began to grow, taking on an ethereal brilliance within the Flurry's formerly dark and lonely mind. It filled him, fulfilled him, would sustain him forever…Within moments, it was everywhere in his body: on his lips, in his eyes, beating a tattoo within his chest, in his right hand as it gradually eased off his waist and over to the side of the bed. That word was his heart, his soul, his guiding light, his inspiration, his muse, the angel on his one shoulder and the demon on his other…and that word told him what to do. Whispered in his ear of a way he could immortalize Roxas's memory...pay tribute to that little blonde rebel who had stolen (in a metaphorical sense) his heart from day one.
The right hand completed its journey, and with a casual flick, turned the radio back on so the next verse of the tragic melody rang clearly in both Axel's and Xemnas's ears.
Love
is not a gadget,
love
is not a toy
When you find the one you love,
he'll
fill your heart with joy
If we could start anew,
I
wouldn't hesitate
I'd gladly take you back
, and tempt the hands of fate
And as the Superior stood, slightly open-mouthed, astounded by this act of utmost defiance from the Flurry, a red-and-silver chakram zipped through the air and buried itself in Xemnas's upper arm.
Then it removed itself, only to bury itself in his other arm, then his shoulder, then his chest. The Superior's blood was everywhere—on his ebony robes, clogging the amber eyes so he couldn't see—drops had even spattered into Axel's hair, where they lay invisible among the equally red locks.
Finally, sanity returned to the leaf-hued eyes of the Flurry, and he stopped attacking the Superior. Xemnas tried to speak, but he was weak and dizzy from pain, and soon stopped when Axel cut him off.
"That…was…for…Roxas…" he gasped out between hard, panting breaths. He paused a moment, let the words hang on a tense, leaden silence, then continued.
"His rebellion is over with," the flame-wielder stated. "You and Mr. Mummy saw to that. You took the rebellion from him—but it did not end. For tonight, Xemnas, tonight the rebellion has been passed on. I will continue what Roxas started. I will oppose the Organization with all my soul, all my mind, all my heart…" he gave a feral grin as the Superior flinched, "…just as he did. From now on, I am a rebel. I am your worst enemy…got it memorized?"
And with the final recitation of his catchphrase, Axel turned from his former Superior and summoned a portal of darkness, leaving the bleeding Xemnas and the gray, desolate room behind for the last time. Right now, there was a blonde Keyblade wielder in Twilight Town who needed him, whether he knew it or not.
As Axel's portal disappeared, the last plaintive notes of the rebellious melody managed to echo from the decrepit radio before it fizzled into crackling static and, finally, silence.
Tears
on my pillow,
pain in my heart, caused by you, you…
You…
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The End. I hope you liked.
