"Man, you're no fun, Rox-kun. You gotta learn to lighten up."
"That's not it; I just have too much shit stuffed into my head."
"Well then how 'bout we empty it out?" the spiky redhead said, grabbing the younger blonde boy into a headlock, giving him an affectionate noogie.
But the noogie brought a vision, blurred and faded, into Roxas's mind: a beach, a boy with silver hair and teal eyes, and a different noogie from a long time ago, like months and months, perhaps a year. It was all from one perspective, from the person receiving the silver-haired boy's noogie-victim. Hair whipped into his face … but it was brown. Roxas wasn't a brunette. He could almost hear laughing, almost see the silver-haired boy's smile. …
"Ow, ahh, OUCH!" Roxas said, pulling away from Axel's grip and holding his head. The vision – or memory, or whatever it was – made a painful skull-splitting sensation cut through Roxas's brain.
"I-I didn't noogie you that hard, aibou." Axel said, the amusement leaving his face. "Are you okay?"
"I … I'm fine."
"What was that all about?" his best friend asked, a little worried on the inside, but trying to laugh it off on the outside.
The blonde didn't reply, only started to walk down Twilight Town's cobblestone streets. The sun overhead was setting – or rising? – like it always does. Twilight Town is named what it is for a reason, and Roxas hadn't thought about it until now that it was always twilight; always the colors of orange, yellow, and pink, which gave it it's name. Roxas sighed, because he knew these thoughts weren't his; they were just filler thoughts, just something he was trying to think of to keep his mind off what the meaning of that strange, random vision was.
"Roxas?"
Number XIII stopped walking and slowly turned to the spiky redhead. "Yeah?"
Axel hesitated, unsure how to approach this. He wanted to ask what was wrong, wanted to know if he could help, wanted to make sure that everything was all right with the younger boy. He knew that if he tried, Roxas probably wouldn't tell him; he was just that way. So in the end, his better judgment passed up his wants. He only stated, "Nothing, I just wanted to know if you wanted to go back to the base now."
Roxas frowned, knowing his friend well enough to realize that this wasn't at all what he wanted to say. Regardless, he replied: "Sure, let's go back."
That night, Roxas lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. His body slowly started to feel cold, so he wrapped his blankets up closer to his chin. Shivering, he rolled over onto his side, closing his eyes.
Behind his lids he saw a different night, crisp and cool. He could see out a window at a beach, the same one from the earlier vision. He realized that he way laying down on a bed, still fully clothed, staring out the window; but he saw something in the darkness, something out the window that resembled one of the portals the Organization uses. He could feel his body getting up and running, calling out someone's name. …
Roxas's eyes burst open. He jerked up into sitting position. "Another vision?" he whispered to himself.
Roxas pinched in between his eyes, squeezing them shut while doing so; the tiny vision seemed to drag along another headache with it. He chuckled darkly. "Am I losing my mind, or what?" he re-opened his eyes and looked up to the black ceiling of his bedroom.
Tossing off the bedcovers, Roxas sat on the edge, looking at the door. "If I can't sleep, I might as well do something," he muttered, "Only … what's there to do in the middle of the night?"
The blonde sighed and stood up, walking across the white-carpeted floor. After turning the silver knob and opening the painted white wooden door, Roxas's bare feet hit the cold linoleum tiles of the hallway. Peering down the hallway Roxas could see a small, vague light to the right. His room was the last in the west corridor, which means that it was coming from downstairs in the main hall.
"Heh," Roxas chuckled, "Seems like someone else besides me is having sleeping problems."