Headnotes: I haven't written fanfiction in a VERY long time, so please excuse my rusty writing brain. I got so exhausted just from writing THIS thing. D:

This is what I've always believed was true about the elusive Demyx, who we know almost NOTHING about. He's a confusing character, of course, and he's really hard to keep a hold on - sort of like water, right? - but, I believe this is COMPLETELY PLAUSIBLE. D:

Sorry 'bout little writing mechanics here and there, since I don't have an editor. :\ Feel free to correct me any way you want.

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts and characters are © by Square Enix and Disney. I am not making money off this work. Heck, I'm barely making pageviews off this work. So please don't sue me.


Idiot Facade


If I thought really hard, I could remember when I first came into the Organization. The day hadn't seemed really important to me when it had happened, but in retrospect it was a big day.

Xigbar had brought me to my new room, sat himself down on the bed that he'd just told me was mine, and asked me if I had a name.

My answer was pretty stupid. "Myde. It's a funny name, 'cause it can mix into a lot of different words. My friends would say I can't make a Dyme, or ask if I liked Medy-evil stories, or say I'm Demy-deaf. . ." I was so nervous about the old man with pointy ears staring at me with his gold-coloured eyes that I couldn't do anything but ramble.

He took it okay, though. I guess he's a pretty laid-back guy. He just threw his head up and laughed, this slow yet mocking laugh that reminded me of visiting my uncle in Arizona. "Slow down there, little dude," he'd said. With a flick of his finger, he made my name appear in the air in front of me, and it was so weird and sudden I probably jumped about a foot into the air.

"You give me your name and then give me a trillion ways to mix it up, and you don't even know what I'm gonna do yet! You're one special guy."

Then, because he wanted to write a report about me or something, he got lazy in the naming and picked the most offensive nickname I had provided, and slapped an X to the end.

That was how I got renamed. Demyx. From "Demy-deaf." Yeah, thanks for putting so much thought into it, Zig Bar.


I can forgive him a bit, though, because Xigbar is actually pretty cool. And apparently they'd only accepted two "newbies" before they'd had me, so they didn't really have an established system about the whole process yet. And when I think about what the other two "newbies" were named, I have to wonder what sort of names they had before; Axel? Saiix? What names could they possibly have had before? My theory is that Xigbar, or one of the other "original" guys, probably didn't even ask for their names and named them something completely new that had an x in it. Yeah, when I think of it that way, I got off okay.

But, anyway, most of the people there for a long time were all a bunch of stiffs, and nobody would talk to me. Most of them are these fancy scientists that made a huge deal out of studying the Darkness and Hearts, so whenever I want to talk to them about something else they suddenly don't have time for me anymore.

I tried to make friends with the two new guys, Saiix and Axel, but Saiix turned out to be a really scary guy, who seriously needs to relax a little and maybe get a massage someday, and I always got the feeling that Axel only acknowledged my presence to make fun of me.

Basically, in the end Xigbar was the only guy I could go to for anything, so I always went to him for anything. I wanted to know what'd happened to me, what all this Darkness and Hearts that everyone kept talking about was about, and he was the only one who would probably tell me, so that was the first thing I asked him.

He had a huge grin on his face, and his eyes twinkled in this sort of fun-loving way that made me smell hot air and tanned wood, but the things that he said completely discredited them. "We don't have hearts," was the bottom line; "We can think, but that's it. Say good-bye to your feelings or to your emotions, kiddo, 'cause you're never gonna see those guys again!"

Then he threw back his head and laughed again, and I managed to supply a weak little giggle as he laughed his way out of my room.

See, now that, THAT was what I have the most issue with, of this whole place. It's the way people keep saying that we don't have hearts, and worse still, the way they actually believe that it's true.


By the time Luxord got into the organization, I'd gotten used to everyone calling me Demyx. It didn't sound like they were insulting me anymore. . . at least, not as a bias I have against the sound itself. It still sounds like they're mocking me all the time, but I think that's more likely because they really are mocking me all the time.

I make myself easy to mock, I guess. I'm not scary, like Saiix, and I'm not important like the stuffy scientist people, and I'm not all sarcastic like Axel. Luxord had to make his way into the Organization the way I did, but he always had a kind of refined air about him, that made everyone at least take him seriously. . . must be the accent. And then, eventually, he established his power in the group by out-gambling everyone with his eyes shut. He can make anyone cringe by saying the word "luck."

I'd found that I could manipulate water, and at some point Vexen had taken an interest in me, thinking perhaps I would devlop into an ice elemental like him, and that we were more similar that he'd estimated. But I could never make myself cold enough to freeze the water, and he eventually lost all respect he had for me, just like everyone else.

The only weapon I could materialize was a funny-looking sitar, which lost even more respect from the others. It was a lot lighter and a whole lot more durable than my old sitar, from back when my name was still Myde. . . but, obviously, as a weapon it wasn't all that intimidating. I could maybe bludgeon someone to death with it. . . slowly.

What the others didn't know was that, when I played on the sitar, I could command water to even form solid shapes, and move - even dance - to my will. Suddenly, Axel's walls of flame and fire cages weren't so impressive anymore, because I could do the exact same things with water.

To further experiment with my ability, I summoned some NoBodies to play around with. I found out that, if I could sustain enough bodies of water for a long enough time, I could drown someone with a song. Just surround them with water and smother any opening to their respiratory system.

But I kept this to myself. Xigbar had leant me (and then permaneantly given to me) his old exercise room as the place for me to practice, so he might have known - but, as far as I can tell, if he did he never told anyone.

With this, I felt a lot better, and could keep being nice to everyone even when they obviously thought so little of me.

"No, Number Nine, I do inot/i want you researching NoBodies and Hearts. You are confined to cleaning duty and patrol."

"Aahhhhh. . . Alright, Grumpy."

". . . . . . What did you call me."

"N- nothing, Zexion! I- I mean, Number Six! I'll just go wash the dishes now!"


I knew all the theory behind NoBodies, and how they're born, and what they are, but I couldn't help feeling like all the scientists, diviners, assassins, gamblers, and other eccentrics in our whole misfit gang were missing something.

We're people, and then Heartless come and rip out our hearts, and then we become emotionless shells pretending to be human.

See, just that concept itself makes me angry, which contradicts the whole thing! It all makes me so, so angry!

I could see at least one thing in everyone that would prove that we're not emotionless shells. Like the way Saiix would become completely irrationally violent if you pushed the wrong button, or the way Axel gets all weepy when the new kid snubs him, even though he tries to hide it. Vexen was the one in charge of all this no-heart theory, and yet when you do the wrong things he puts on so many expressions in succession it's hard to keep track of the emotions he feels.

I think back to Xigbar, telling me that we can't feel anything, grinning widely enough to crack his face in half and his crow's feet becoming deeper every week.

I could go on, but there are so many members in our group we're somewhere in the teens now, I think. The idea is, I had one for every member. . . except for the new kid.

His name was Roxas, I think, and I couldn't figure him out. I didn't think he could figure himself out either, which I guess is only fair, but when it comes to that guy you can't say anything for sure.

He's so quiet, I don't remember what his voice sounds like. He doesn't talk to people, just stares down at his shoes or at the table or whatever is underneath his chin, and if people try to make nice with him he acts like they're not there. I've heard he can't remember his past very well, so it's likely that he's spending all his time trying to remember it. . . but, the frustrating point I'm making is, he was the perfect example of what everyone kept talking about. He really seemed numb, like a blank shell that had gotten thrown away.

He was the only solid proof for that theory, that I couldn't find an explanation for.

And then he ran away.


"Traitor."

"Hey."

"Traitor."

"Hey!"

"Traitor."

"Demyx, buddy, please. He. . . had his reasons, he--"

"Traitor."

"Don't listen to what the other guys tell you, Demyx. He's not a traitor, he only wanted. . . to find out. . . can't you understand the way he feels, or at least try to?"

". . . . Traitor."

I liked saying it, just to hear the sound of that ironic victory. I liked hearing the others say it, because they're just being sore losers at having a flaw in their theory.

It was the only satisfication I had gotten in all my struggles, my thinking and arguing and alienating. The word "traitor" was the only prize I had won, so I treasured it like a fucking Oscar.


"Request denied. You are to patrol the lesser worlds, and report sightings or clues to Number Thirteen's location."

"But I'm telling you, I need to go to Hollow Bastion, I can handle the Heartless there--"

"Request denied. Your continued insolence will not be tolerated, and elimination can be arranged."

"What if I--"

"I know what he's trying to do," said Saiix. Everyone turned to face him, and he smiled a smile that looked like a grimace and showed off his fangs. "He wants to look at Ansem's lab. To tap into your old research, Superior."

I cringed visibly, and was sent off to Atlantis. No Heartless, but I stuck out like a sore thumb and the people were very suspicious of me. I ended up spending my time running, swimming, or both.

Now you can't call that an empty shell! That was so unprofessional, it was. . . immature! With their heartlessness, they - all that were left, anyway - showed that they all had hearts. Definitely.


What was most disagreeable with my theory was Roxas, again.

The next time I ever saw him, he was a completely different person, and looked about a year older to boot. Of course, since he was still doing his job (which was apparently to kill Heartless with his keyblade) it was all the same to the other guys.

What bothered me was that this person was the "real" one, the one that wasn't a NoBody. This Roxas, who makes everyone call him Sora, was the one that Roxas used to be, and now was again.

What does that mean about me, then? Am I a completely different person, who just appeared from nowhere when Myde died?

I am Myde. That's my real name. I didn't like this new name business anyway, from the very start; it was just because the old guys had remade themselves and thrown away their old lives that they'd done it, and they made everyone else do it to follow the fashion. But inside, I was still always Myde.

But Roxas - Sora - doesn't seem like that. All the time Roxas had been around, Sora was a completely different person, having his own adventures and completely oblivious to the fact he had any relation to anyone except himself.

What if Myde was also somewhere else, running around without me, all this time?

All that I can forgive, though. I can forgive Roxas for. . . for being the way he is, because it's not like he knew any better and it's not like he can help it. But one thing about him made it all bad, turned it all to hell, and I can't forgive him for it for the rest of my life.

"Remember, the Organization's made up of NoBodies."

"Right - no hearts!"

I couldn't stand that. I couldn't stand how he just made that jump, from NoBody to no hearts, without even stopping to consider it. I could tell, I could tell, from listening to his voice that he had never even given the subject the slightest bit of thought.

I considered that he might just be busy. Sure, he's a busy guy now, isn't he? What with everyone else in our little nuthouse ordering him around, and him not even having the slightest clue they were doing it.

I tried to steer him into that manner of thinking, that maybe he would consider it, maybe even join my side and fight the big guy over the right to feel, the right to really live. . .

But he didn't take it, he didn't even blink.

The infuriating aspect of it, the way he looks at me the same way he looks at Heartless, as a trash to be disposed of, even when I could prove to him that I wasn't. . .

In the end, I lost control and just tried to kill him, but I hadn't practiced enough; in the end, I couldn't even drown him, couldn't hold him away with my walls or my bubbles, and he never held back; he cut my essence apart without any hint of regret, or sadness, no acknowledgement of any sympathy.

I only hear his cries of rage, even now, when I'm fading away and my life is flashing before my eyes. I'm not holding back anymore, I've dropped my facade ages ago, I'm screaming my lungs out, but I'm still only an object to be eliminated, no, exterminated. . .

My life, huh. It starts at when I joined the Organization, huh. In the end, even my subconscious betrays me.

Please; we do have hearts.

Please believe me.

Don't be mad. . .


Tailnotes: Errrrr, I don't have much to say. Reviews of any sort are well-appreciated, of course. Thank you for having read this far, and I hope you enjoyed it.