Title: A Matter of Routine
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Pairings/Characters: Axel/Roxas (really really! At least, that was the intention...) Axel/Sora if you read it as such :]
Genre: Angst, very light Romance
Rating: PG
Notes: This was written as a response to roterhimmel's prompt, who wanted Axel and Roxas meeting in a supermarket. Ah hahaha, my head just ran with this, so it might be completely different from what you want, dear. Still, I hope you still somewhat like it! Sorry about the lack of pick-up lines ;__;
Warnings: Completely un-betaed, probably lots of tense changes.
This, Axel thinks, isn't the way he imagined he would spend his eighteenth year.
High-school graduate, decent grades, fairly decent looks, no criminal record, proud parents, pretty cool friends, waiting to enter college. And now, sweeping up the aisles of a supermarket, attempting to smile at impatient customers, counting the hours till his shift is done.
He supposes it could have been worse. He could have been stuck at some summer camp looking after precocious brats. Or doing nothing at all at home, bumming around with pizza and gaining weight. At least, he reasons to himself, he is earning some of his college fund while doing this. The boss is pretty nice and he has alright colleagues, if one discounts the fact that they gossip wildly about the latest reality show, or some superficial shit like that.
And so his days passed, on a sunny island, nine to five.
.
Axel is keeping his eye on a couple of kids these days.
The young boy, in particular. He always buys the same things – a box of ice cream bars, the latest music magazine, a bag of chewing gum. He'd sometimes throw in a cabbage or two – errand for his mum, Axel supposes – and he always checks out at the same counter. Axel's counter, in particular. He thinks that's why he has his eye on the boy, he has such a boring, monotonous, simple routine that he could not and would not break that has Axel intrigued.
He has two close friends as far as Axel knows. A bubbly girl and a silent protector of sorts. He sometimes comes alone, sometimes with one or both of them, but he always buys the same few things. He remembers Axel's name, too.
Axel tries not to notice, or peer too deeply into the kid's eyes when he looks up at him. But once, just once, when he glanced at him, he remembered seeing the weirdest, plainest blue eyes ever. Weird, because it's wide and deep and there is something in there he couldn't read. But plain too, because it's blue, just blue, like anybody else's blue. Like the sky, or the navy uniforms, or the sea, or the poster notice on his board. Something everybody has, everyone knows.
He checks the kid's things out, and receives the same ten dollar bill, and returns a couple of coins. He counts two days, and sees the boy again after those two days.
.
The kid tries to strike a conversation with him that one day.
He says hi, as usual. Axel hums non-committedly and scans his items in as usual. After the transactions are done, the boy fidgets in front of him for a while. It is a slow day, no queue behind him.
Do you live around here, he asks, hesitant. Still, he has some sort of determination in his eyes, a task he has set out to accomplish.
Axel stares. It's a weird question, by all means, but not a particularly rude one. He sighs and replies in the affirmative.
The kid nods and, as if exhausting all his courage for the day, grabs his purchases and runs. Axel stares after the retreating back and chuckles slightly, not knowing why it is funny, just that it is. The boy he has been noticing talking to him and fleeing immediately afterwards. Like something out of a teenage drama.
.
They talk a little more every three days after that. He learns the kid's name, and his friends', and about what the kid is studying. The kid seems surprised that Axel is so old (Axel takes particular offense to that). Axel, meanwhile, tells him a little about the college he's going to, the tattoo he might get (the kid is visibly awed at the idea) and informs him seriously that his hair is naturally red, no dyes or things like that. The kid assures him that his spikes are natural too. And the lady queuing behind would usually hiss and tap her foot impatiently, prompting the kid to gather his bags (slower than usual, slowing down even more whenever he hears an impatient sound behind him) and bid Axel goodbye.
Axel accepts his invitation to the beach about a month later.
And the day he heads down to the beach, whistling and diving in and around traffic, he gets stupidly, blindedly struck down by a speeding driver.
His last thoughts, when he remembers them, are that the kid would be waiting, would be disappointed, and large plain blue eyes would look back at him full of reproach, why-are-you-late, why-are-you-late, why-are-you-late.
.
He is never renamed. It seems like it is satisfactory enough that his name has an 'X' in it, and Axel sticks his tongue out at the overbearing Superior's back.
.
Roxas joins five months after that.
This time, Axel does the hesitating and the conversation.
.
Hey, Roxas. A quick glance, curl of the lips, slight smile. Do you remember anything about your past life?
…not particularly.
A scoff. You mean, not at all, right?
A fidget. Bristling. So what if I don't? Uncomfortable, broaching a topic like that. Because all nobodies remember their past lives, remember what it was like to die, to laugh, to cry, to feel. To lick a sea salt ice cream and cringe at the salt, at the same time that one savours its sweetness.
Roxas doesn't. He eats it as a matter of routine. Like how he impulsively buys a magazine and chucks it afterwards without reading it, and chews on a piece of bright mint gum when distracted. Routine. Unbroken, unnoticed, unchanged, unchanging.
Chuckling. A look into plain, angry blue eyes.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
Fingering a note, and a couple of coins hidden deep in his pockets.