Completely Unexpected, a kingdom hearts fanfic

Author's note: My stories will get longer, I promise. This was probably the strangest request that I've ever gotten, thanks to my favorite ginger kid/best friend ever. :3 THE BRAIDING WAS NOT MY IDEA.

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This was wrong. He could be thrown out of the Organization for bending the rules like this; it just wasn't his territory. Whether it was bending or breaking the rules, however, Zexion wasn't entirely sure, but he loved it just the same. Number VI didn't care much for his fellow Organization members, especially the upper level inhabitants of Castle Oblivion. So as he explored the library that was considered to be far across enemy lines, he experienced an elating sense of satisfaction. It was as if he was secretly stripping away their absurd rules and exercising the chance to embrace his higher rank.

The library itself was completely breathtaking in comparison to its less-than-adequate sibling in the basement, but the prospect of having to choose just one of the thousands of books that lined the immaculate walls was overwhelming for number VI. In fact, everything about this place was overwhelming. The tower-like cathedral ceilings, the lack of must, and the sunlight casting over the alabaster flooring gave a lighthearted feeling to the place, and even though Zexion didn't have a heart, he could still fully enjoy the sensation.

With the stealth of a cat, he had snuck his way past the upper levels, who were too engrossed with discussing the "inferior" basement dwellers to notice that one had just past them on their guard. It had been a bit of a challenge for the Schemer to actually find the library since he had seldom entered this particular area of the castle. But the important detail is that he found it indeed, and it was most definitely worth the involved risks.

As he entered the first aisle of bookcases, VI couldn't help but compare this literary sanctuary to his own library. In this place, even the floor felt so elegant as it stretched beneath his feet. In the basement library, he had to keep a constant eye to the stone floor just so he wouldn't trip on a stray crack. But now as he subconsciously stared into the gleaming marble, he could see no fissures; just his own face staring back at him. When Zexion began scanning a shelf of books, he noticed how satisfyingly foreign the titles looked; he had read all of the books in his own library. This created an instant sort of bloodlust, and the Schemer found himself tearing book after book off of the shelf until the stack was too heavy for him to carry.

Zexion carried his column of reading material toward a row of windows, where a long, cream-colored couch sat just beckoning him to sit upon it. The Schemer stepped toward it timidly, carefully placing the volumes onto the mirror-like flooring. Ungracefully flopping into the sublime leather cradle, VI began to laugh out of complete and utter ecstasy. Never had a room made him feel so comfortable; so alive. So without further a due, Zexion regained his posture and picked up the first volume in the stack. As soon as he had pulled back the front cover, another new comparison made itself known: VI could read properly here. In the basement, the light was dim and unpleasant. Oh, but here, beams of light flooded each page as if it were a work of art to be displayed.

For hours on end, the Schemer sat in the soft lap of the sofa and pored through each volume with a smile attached to his lips. He had maintained a certain cycle of reading and replacing each book so that he wouldn't be caught by any upper levels in case they would happen upon their own wonderful library. When the sun sunk behind him in vibrant ribbons of gold, fuchsia and crimson, VI realized that he had reached the final book in his stack. An accomplished feeling branched through his body as crystalline hues began to study the first page, but this was intercepted by a stomach-turning panic when the vibration of voices reached his eardrums.

"Which volume did you need again?" This was the exact voice that Zexion wanted to hear the least. If Marluxia caught him wandering in the upper levels, especially reading their books, he would punish him greatly. Although XI had a much lower rank, he was still Lord of Castle Oblivion, which gave him almost as much power as the Superior himself.

"Volume seven." This was just as unwelcome as the Assassin's voice. Smoke-tinged and rough, number VIII's voice was twice as intimidating to the Schemer. Suddenly it dawned on him: it sounded like Axel needed a book. Surely, they would discover Zexion along the way. Seizing the volume on his lap, VI abandoned the couch and silently took refuge behind a nearby bookcase. As the pair of footfalls came closer and closer, the Schemer slid a gloved hand across his lips to muffle his breath.

"Five, six… Hm." Murmured the Assassin as he scanned a shelf in the light of the impending sunset. "It seems that seven is already in use." Hues rounded with realization, Zexion stared down at the volume he had carried with him. "Restoration of the Heart: Volume VII" Oh no.

"How can it be missing? What the fuck?!" Axel replied heatedly, his smoke-infested voice filled to the brim with annoyance. "Larxene told me that she never read it. Maybe one of those basement dwellers-"

"Impossible." Marluxia sounded furious at the thought that one of the basement dwellers could possibly penetrate a room that clearly belonged to the upper levels. Behind the sheath of his hand, Zexion grinned in spite of himself. "Perhaps I forgot to return it to the shelf. I'll check my quarters."

There was a pause as Axel sputtered a long, rasping cough. "I guess I can always finish the assignment tomorrow… Or I could make that maniac downstairs do it. Vexen, right?" Although it was true that the Chilly Academic was a bit eccentric, it still aggravated VI that Axel showed such little respect toward such a high rank. No wonder Vexen was on the brink of insanity. The footsteps resumed; the pair of upper levels were leaving. Soon the faraway slam of a door could be heard. Once again, the Schemer found himself alone.

After a brief reassurance that the library really was empty, Zexion returned to the couch and continued reading, even though the light had grown rather dim. As VI grew more and more interested in the volume, he lost all sense of what was around him. Because of this, he didn't notice the subtle footfalls that approached him, nor did he note the figure that had moved so unbearably close to the sofa.

"So this is where Volume Seven went off to." murmured a deep, silky voice. Zexion's optics rounded and his head snapped to face the owner. A tall figure leaned against the nearest bookcase, his rose-colored tresses hanging lazily across his eyes. Marluxia had returned to the library. The Schemer was as good as dead now. Try as he might to explain himself, nothing audible came from his shocked throat except for a high-pitched, sputtering sound.

"Don't worry," continued the Assassin as his cat-like legs crossed in front of the sofa . VI still stared wide-eyed toward the newcomer, his lower lip trembling with panic as he took a seat. "You're not in trouble." What? If possible, Zexion's eyes grew even rounder.

"But I've broken a rule!" the Schemer managed shakily as his grip on the volume because more and more tenuous.

"You have, but that doesn't mean anyone else has to know," XI looked so collected that it was almost as if he were talking to a good friend. VI remained in a stunned silence. "Does this place please you, Zexion?"

The Schemer nodded. His grip became so loose that the book barely danced upon his gloved fingertips.

"That's all that I want." Marluxia ran a hand through his mane of coral and sighed. "You always were my favorite basement dweller."

The Schemer quirked an eyebrow, and looked away to shield his face; out of reflex, his cheeks had faded to a pallid pink. What was the Assassin doing? He was the all-powerful Lord of Castle Oblivion! He had both the ability and the resources to slice any rule-breakers to ribbons with one swing of his scythe, and all of a sudden he chooses to show decency and respect to higher ranks? It didn't add up.

"Thank you, XI." Said VI as he regained control of the book that was slipping from his lap.

To Zexion's complete surprise, Marluxia chuckled. It was a smooth, pleasant sound. "Please, Zexion. We're not on a mission are we?"

Confused as he was, the Schemer shook his head.

"Then call me Marluxia." All of this was becoming a bit too odd to handle. Had XI lost his mind?! He had always had a bit of a reputation for punishing those who didn't address him by the proper rank. Zexion even had the displeasure of knowing this by experience. He said nothing.

"You know, Zexion," Marluxia purred wearily to fill the silent gap. "It must be difficult to read with all of that hair covering your face. Move a bit closer." Was this a trick? After a moment of contemplation, the Schemer hesitantly slid closer to the upper level, his gaze still fixed upon the volume in his lap. The strategy was to keep focused on this book, but it seemed that XI had other plans in mind. Two gentle fingers slid beneath Zexion's jaw and led his view so that it was impossible not to look into those cerulean optics.

"Stay still." Whispered the Assassin. VI had no choice but to watch as Marluxia cradled his slate tresses in both hands and separated them into pieces. What would become of his beautiful hair?

Zexion was beyond confusion at this point and he could feel his brows furrowing beneath the upper level's working hands. "May I ask what you're doing, XI?"

Marluxia laughed in almost a mocking way, and began entwining the locks of graphite. "What did I say about addressing me by my rank, Zexion?"

VI stared distractedly towards the strands of his own hair which were being twisted and wound tightly around one another as if XI's aim was to torture him. "Sorry. May I ask what you're doing…Marluxia?" The name was foreign and bitter as it rolled off of his tongue. He flinched as a small child does when a newly-learned curse slips from his mouth.

"You'll see." The Assassin replied nonchalantly. The pair sat in a very awkward silence as Marluxia continued to pull and weave at VI's tresses. In a matter of minutes, he had finally finished, leaving a thick, rope-like braid that fell across Zexion's cheek. To see with both eyes was a dramatic change for the Schemer, and his lips tugged into a crooked smile. This was quite a new sensation that he was feeling in the pit of his stomach, now that he was more than comfortable with XI.

"Thank you…Marluxia." Said VI, lifting a hand to examine his new braid. The Assassin grinned brilliantly and stood, and Zexion thought it only polite to follow suit. Together, they approached the mouth of the now ominous-looking library.

Before the Schemer could pull open the door to return to his place in the basement, Marluxia placed a halting hand above the other's. "I must ask something of you, Zexion." he murmured almost apologetically. VI stared up at the upper level quizzically, and waited for him to continue. "Tomorrow, I'd like you to address me by my rank, and pretend like none of this foolishness ever happened."

VI had expected this, but for some reason, he still felt the burning sting of disappointment. "Very well, XI." He murmured dejectedly, but another attempt at opening the door had been intercepted by the Assassin.

"I said tomorrow, Zexion." murmured the upper level, sliding his leathered fingers beneath the Schemer's jaw again. And purely on impulse, XI had pulled up that milky, angular chin and pressed his rose-petal lips to the ones below him with a ghostly gentleness that made it seem like it had never even happened at all. The Schemer, who had neither expected nor prepared for this in any form, stood wide-eyed, his cheeks heated with embarrassment.

Something momentous had happened that night. As the two Nobodies exited the library and parted ways, they both felt that something wonderful had been created between them despite the ugly rivalry. It was as if the wall between basement dwellers and upper level Nobodies had been chipped. The gap somehow bridged, if only for that moment.

As soon as Zexion had slunk down the stone staircase into the dim light of the frigid basement, he was greeted with both the unpleasant scent of mildew, and the curious expressions shot from his fellow basement dwellers.

"Oh, hello, VI." Vexen muttered in a lukewarm greeting. The Schemer had blissfully returned the greeting, and was about to retire to his own quarters when he noticed that the Academic's expression had grown even more curious. "May I ask what happened to your hair?"