A/N: Hello, dear reader, my name is Raven and I'm writing this story for NaNoWriMo. If you don't know what NaNoWriMo is, it stands for Nation Novel Writing Month and it's a challenge in which the objective is to write a 50k story within the month of November.

I'll probably be updating this every Wednesday and my goal is to condense this story down to 5 chapters (1 for every Wednesday in November), which is difficult for me because I always write more than 50k words. Anyway, I'm uploading this a day later than I intended because I was busy yesterday, but it is here now.

Main pairing in this fic will be Zemyx, but there is some AkuRoku. The story will be fairly by the book, more so than my AkuRoku story. Also contrary to my AkuRoku story, this one won't be comedy. It's a more serious plot, which I thought was ironic because Demyx is so happy and bubbly while both Axel and Roxas are more moody and such, but whatevers. I doubt these circumstances would ever be funny in real life, so yeah. It's not a comedy.

A few warnings: There will be spelling and grammatical errors because I don't exactly have the time to proofread because I just have to write, write, write, so please try your best to ignore them (although my spelling and grammar isn't necessarily bad to begin with; but there are typos).

There might be plot holes or contradictions or I could say something in the beginning that I change without realizing at the end.

If you encounter these things, I would appreciate it if you alerted me to these things so that I can go back and change them if I have the time.

Author's note has been long enough, so I won't include one at the bottom when I usually do.

So if you like this story after reading it, review, fave, alert, what have you.

I hope with all my heart that you like the story~

Love, Raven –lessthanthree-

Kingdom Hearts © Disney and Enix

It was the kind of day where you just knew something bad would happen. You just walked around all day carrying this peculiar weight in your stomach and you knew. But you didn't know where or how or what or when. This paranoia eats at you all day and you begin to wonder if the actual thing could possibly be as bad as the waiting, of course, it was. The fact that you knew it was coming made it worse. You blamed yourself. Why wasn't I more careful? I knew it was coming so why?

Then the guilt set in and you felt like you could have stopped it. You felt that it was your fault because you knew it was coming. But it wasn't your fault. These things happen and there's nothing you can do about it. You tell yourself that, but you don't believe it. It just eats away at you because that's what these things do.

I hadn't reached that point yet. I wasn't thinking about that at all. I'd already gone through the first stage, knowing something was going to happen. It settled in my stomach like a murder of crows. The bad thing was happening right now. I'd expected this much from her… No, wait, I didn't. Sorry, I lied. I didn't expect her to go that far then, but I do now. She always pressed the boundary. She'd always made subtle comments, but I ignored them because I knew she was all about her words and her stories and her pictures. I'd always had a feeling that nothing was real to her, so I didn't worry about it.

The rugs were black, so I should have known from the beginning. The curtains were black. She'd changed them. The sheets were black. She'd made me change them. The towels were black. She'd made me change them as well. And then there were the silk tapestries. They were covered in her paint because she'd painted all over them. She painted them with fairies and flowers and angels and green things she called eyes, but they looked more like roses. They weren't on the walls, but were littering the floor instead.

I hadn't been doing anything wrong that could warrant such a punishment. I was being a good boy. I was fixing the black sheets on her bed and then I would gather the tapestries and fold them up for her. It was clear she didn't want them anymore. Really, this wasn't my fault because I was doing what she'd asked of me. I was doing was she always asked of me. The black of the room stifled me, and I could barely breathe without inhaling the smell of the room's omens.

There was the bear pelt. It watched me more than usual. Its glass eyes silently warned me, but I couldn't listen to it. I had to do my job.

Then there she was. She was sitting at her grand piano eyeing me with her doll eyes. She had her opera binoculars pressed to her face as she watched me work, despite the fact that I was barely 5 feet from her. Her face was empty, devoid of emotion. Her red lips were in a line that wavered neither this way nor that.

The tap of precious metals against precious metals caused me to cease my folding of the tapestries, but I didn't look up. I only paused for a few moments before continuing my work. I stopped again, though, when the tinkling of keystrokes on the piano entered the room. She was playing Chopin's nocturne Op. 9 No. 2. She could always play the notes, but she could never play his music.

Rays of sun burned the back of my pale, vulnerable neck and I could feel the skin reddening. The tattered tunic I wore was too hot and scratchy for the August heat, but I had no choice in the matter. I stood there in the green yard in front of the Snow manor. If I had been older, I would've laughed at the irony of the situation. It was inhumanly hot, and yet I was waiting outside of the Snow mansion. How funny.

At the young age of eight, I doubt I even knew what irony was (it was a difficult concept for me to grasp even as I grew older, but I've never been the sharpest knife in the world). But there I stood; fidgeting in the front yard of the Snow family manor in a row of other newly acquired 'indentured servants.' Even being stupid as I was (and still am), even I, knew that we were slaves. 'Indentured servant' was just a nice way of saying it.

The lot of us must've spent at least an hour standing there in the sun, trying to be good because they were watching us. We weren't allowed to talk or to move from our spot in the line that ascended from the youngest (I was the youngest), to the oldest. After our hour of waiting, they finally led us like cattle, youngest first, to the front door of the mansion. The man who was leading me smiled at me with what I was too innocent to know were lecherous, malicious eyes. I was drawn to him by his golden monocle, and he had to physically stop me from going up the steps and into the mansion. He told me to stand there like a good boy.

I remember looking up at the four people standing there in front of me that I hadn't even noticed before. They were the Snow family, but I didn't know that at the time. I just saw a married couple and their two children, who looked around my age. The two children, a boy and a girl, both had beautiful blond hair and blue eyes and they were well-dressed.

"Oh my gosh, your dress is so pretty!" I remember calling to the girl.

I was shushed harshly by all the men controlling the line that I didn't even know were there. The Snows glanced down at me with smiles on their faces that were sarcastic and cynical to a degree. I just smiled naïvely back up at them, not understanding their dark undertones.

They checked my palms, had me open my mouth for them, and then they led me inside the mansion. They were speaking to me, but I couldn't hear them because the gorgeous paintings and tapestries on the walls demanded my attention. All the gold and silver shining in that room nearly gave me a heart attack because I absolutely loved shiny things (I'm embarrassed to say that I still do). Eventually, they led me into a room where I was changed into much nicer clothing and they finally got me to listen to them.

"Now, little boy, what's your name?" The woman, Mrs. Snow, asked. She and her husband and children were there in the same room, but Mr. Snow was monitoring the other servants. The son and daughter were with their mother, seeming curious about the one servant that was close to them in age.

"My name is 141037," I answered with a smile on my face. That wasn't my actual name, but it had been what I was called at the last house I'd worked at, and it was all I could remember ever being called.

Mrs. Snow looked disapprovingly at me and her children giggled to themselves. "Well, then, we shan't have such a cute young lad walking around with that name! How barbaric (oh the irony)! From this day forward, we shall call you Demyx. After my children's last dog who caught rabies and had to be shot last year."

"Mommy!" The girl was tugging at her mother's dress and gazed up at her with pleading eyes.

At that point Mrs. Snow smiled and put a hand on one of each of her children's shoulders. She turned them to face me and pushed them so that they were directly in front of me. "Now, Demyx, this is Roxas and this is Naminé," she introduced them. "I know that your previous owners had you doing manual labor, but in the Snow Manor, we don't allow children under 12 to do such work. We don't even hire such young children normally. However, little Roxas and Naminé asked for a playmate, and how could I refuse? So, listen once and listen good, you will play with them, but you may not tell them what to do or touch their toys without permission. You belong to them as their toy until you turn 12. At that age, you will assume manual labor duties. Do you understand?" She wouldn't explain it again if I asked, so I just smiled and nodded.

Then I was being dragged away by Roxas and Naminé. They pulled at my sleeves and soon were fighting over me. Roxas wanted to play war in the backyard and Naminé wanted to draw in her room. Eventually, Naminé tricked Roxas into looking a different direction, and then she grabbed my sleeve and hastily hauled me off to her room. She ordered me to barricade the door immediately after we entered, and I did because I was a good boy.

Once that was done, she grinned at me. She told me to sit on the floor and not to talk. So I did as I was told because, again, I was a good boy. A few minutes of her searching wildly through drawers later, she handed me a pad of paper and a pencil. Of course, I didn't know what to do with it. I'd never even held a pencil before. The fact that I didn't know how to hold it seemed to make her angry.

Naminé snatched the tool away from me. "Like this!" she cried as she held it the proper way. She showed me how each finger went and how to put it to paper and use it. She drew a quick picture of a flower to show me how easy it was.

When I seemed to understand well enough for her, the blonde rushed over to the grand piano that was in her room. "Okay, now, you just close your eyes and you draw whatever comes to you, okay?"

I almost opened my mouth to speak, but I just nodded because I remembered she'd told me not to talk. I was a good boy, remember? Then I closed my eyes like she said and the room was really quiet. Outside I could hear birds calling and bugs buzzing. Inside I could hear the occasional voice or footstep. I only felt the graphite in the hand, the sketchbook on my lap, and the floor beneath me.

Tinkling entered the room and dripped from my eyes as the most beautiful song I'd ever heard quietly resounded in the quiet room. I never realized it, but the moment the music started, not only did tears stream from my eyes, but lines and shapes formed on the paper from the tip of the pencil. I couldn't see any of it. All I could see was the dancing and the sadness and the night air filled with snow and sleet.

Feelings washed over me, feelings I was too young to understand. Many of these feelings were bad, but a few of them, the stronger of the feelings, were good. I felt each note sweep through my soul in shades of blues and whites. They liberated me in some way I could never explain, even now. Of course, I'm still stupid now, so of course I can't explain it.

As quickly as these feelings washed over me, they left because Naminé had stopped playing. When I came back to Earth, I rubbed at my eyes with my hands, feeling embarrassed that I was crying. The blonde girl excitedly approached me.

"That was a thing by Frédéric Chopin. When I get older, I'm gonna be just like him, okay? Promise me you won't forget!"

There was nothing more I could do than nod. She took the sketchbook from my hands while I was still trying to collect the pieces of my shattered soul off of them floor. When I looked up after I was sure the tears were finished and wiped away, the hateful, disapproving look on her face told me that I wouldn't be getting along with her. I was okay with that, as long as she played more for me.

Naminé did end up playing more. She played more and more and more until she was making things up. She insisted that I draw every time she played. I didn't understand why she asked me to draw if she always hated the things that I drew.

It was dinner time. The bad thing had already happened, but it was fresh in my mind no matter how I tried to shut it out. I could barely keep tears from streaming down my face. I felt so awful in every conceivable way. The guilt had set in, too. The guilt that I could've stopped it. It hollowed out my stomach so that I wasn't hungry for gruel. The other servants got a small slice of bread, a bitter cup of coffee, and a morsel of meat from the worst parts of the livestock that the Snows refused to eat. I received gruel. I'd been a bad boy. No bread, meat, or coffee. Just a flavorless, lesser cousin of oatmeal. I'd been a bad boy.

All the servants had to eat in their communal kitchen far away from the wealthy, save for those who served them dinner. In that case, they weren't allowed to eat until after the Snows had finished their meal and left to the parlor for expensive coffees and teas. By the time the servants were able to eat, most of the others had usually finished their own meals so that the ones returning from duty had to eat mostly alone. The Snows didn't allow servants to talk casually to each other anyway, but it was still nice to be surrounded by people who were in the same boat as you. Without the presence of many servants, it was lonely.

That was currently my situation. Naminé ordered me to serve her and I had to obey, so I did. I was trying to show her that I was still a good boy. I did everything she asked and she grinned her smug grin at me, knowing I would do nothing but obey her regardless of whether I could refuse or not. She loved this power over me. She loved how I was her little toy. To remind me of her powers, she woofed when she wanted me to do something. Reluctantly, I responded to her barks.

We continued on like that until I was finally dismissed to eat alone in silence with the few other servers for that evening. From there, I sat and ate my gruel in lonely stillness. I didn't look at anyone as I nibbled occasionally at the food. I was too ashamed and vulnerable to meet anyone's gaze. Nobody asked, of course. Life was extremely hard for us, so seeing other servants down on their luck wasn't anything new. Of course, the fact that none of us were allowed to talk about anything aside from work as it was happening made it impossible to know each other or how we all normally acted. No one knew that I was normally an optimistic person. No one knew that I loved to sing. No one knew that my favorite color was purple.

After dinner, I put my bowl back into the pantry where I'd gotten it from. The Snows didn't provide us with soap or water to wash our dishes with. I proceeded to the rooms of the servants' quarters and climbed into my middle bunk, for they were stacked three on top of each other. They had no mattresses, only wooden slabs with ratty burlap sheets as blankets. Dead tired and wanting to be ignorant in blissful darkness, I quickly fell asleep.

There was a white castle there on the clouds. A rainbow sprouted from the cloud and continued onto infinity, signaling that a princess lived there. It wasn't a normal princess. Normal princesses didn't live in alabaster castles in the clouds that spewed rainbows, so I knew someone special lived there.

I, myself, was standing on the ground in a meadow of grass and flowers staring up at the beautiful structure. I'd seen this castle countless times, and I always wanted to go inside. Sadly, there was no way for me to reach the castle in the clouds and meet the kind princess who lived there. For weeks, months, even years, I'd been wondering how I could go up to this castle whose bricks shone like pearls.

The taste of iron was in my mouth and I turned it over with my tongue as I thought. I'd been chewing on my lip again. It was a nasty habit, I knew, but nothing was quite so satisfying in my wretched life as the reassurance that life was indeed inside me. The taste of blood on my tongue wasn't something I could often ignore, but that castle did things to me I didn't know were possible.

Over the years of waiting, I'd gone absolutely insane trying to think of ways I could get inside that magnificent structure. I'd screamed and begged and pleaded. I tried to assure the castle and perhaps the princess that I was a good boy. I would do anything she asked of me. I don't think she liked that very much, but I didn't know what else to offer.

Today, for some strange reason, something different happened. Slowly, so slowly that I hadn't noticed it at first, a smaller cloud was sprouting from the larger cloud, detaching itself from its original form. It slowly extended until a certain distance, then it stopped and a smaller cloud sprouted from that cloud. A rainbow extended to connect the pieces of clouds.

I watched in fascination and I knew I was being asked to enter the castle. The clouds had to hurry up, though. I knew I would awaken soon. If they weren't there by the time I woke up, then they would have to start all over. God, why were the clouds moving so slowly? They were too far out of my reach and I prayed with every fiber of my being for the blasted cotton balls to hurry it up. The world around me started to fade to black and I begged and pleaded for the clouds to hurry and take me up to the castle. But the edges were fading and darkness soon overwhelmed the entire castle.

My first duty in the morning was to awaken Roxas and Naminé from their sleep. My own internal clock always woke me up in time for me to spring out of bed and hurry off to their chambers after slipping into the coat and boots mandated by the Snows that all the servants wore so that they did look like 'indentured servants' and not slaves.

Even though I'd surpassed 12 years of age, currently being 16, the Snows hadn't allowed me to do any form of manual labor. They quickly found during one of my first manual labor sessions that I was weak and lazy and Naminé and Roxas distracted me too much to do any form of planting or chopping wood or anything of the sort. They turned me into something of a maid. I attended to the wealthy siblings and cleaned the mansion and its many rooms. I did laundry, washed dishes, and occasionally attended to guests.

I was one of the only males in that position. At first I suspected that everyone thought I had it easier being a boy, simply doing as Roxas and Naminé pleased as well as cleaning here and there, but that ended up not being the case. Even though we're not allowed to talk to one another, there is no such rule against looking at each other and communicating through facial expressions and hand gestures. Most of them pitied me as well as the other maids who waited on the siblings. That was one of the hardest jobs because it completely sapped ones emotional as well as physical energy. They were evil and they taunted everyone. They manipulated and insulted, punched and kicked the maids. Mostly everyone simply hated Roxas and Naminé Snow and I couldn't blame them. Too many times had they gotten people in trouble over nothing. Too many times had they physically harmed the laborers. Too many times had they told us all we were worthless people no better than dogs. It was sickening.

Roxas' room was the closest, so I always woke him up first. He was usually the more civil of the siblings so long as no one else was around. The heir liked to appear as though he was hot shit while in front of others, desperate for approval, but he was neutral if not even a bit polite when it was just him and I.

Upon opening the large doors, I found that Roxas wasn't the only person in the room. In bed with the blond was an older boy named Axel. Axel was in training to be Radient Garden Army's new general right after his father, for the king had appointed him to follow in his father's footsteps. He had long, flaming red hair that he typically wore in a loose ponytail to appear more official and piercing green eyes. The muscles on his body were lean and somewhat misleading, for he was very strong. Many times, he's tossed me without expending any sort of energy. Then again, I had no muscle or fat on my body, just horrid skin and bones. Lifting me was like lifting a skeleton.

It wasn't a shock for me to find Roxas curled up against Axel, the redhead holding the blond against his chest. I'd never found them in this position before, but they were the very best of friends and I never missed those fleeting glances of absolute adoration they gave each other. They liked to mock me often. That tradition had started many years ago.

"Demyx, you're supposed to play with me today! You always play with Naminé! Play with me or else I'll tell Mom on you!" Nine year-old Roxas had threatened. He was shouting into Naminé's door from the outside because the girl had locked me inside with her as she often did.

I'd been shoved into a bonnet and one of Naminé's many skirts because she requested it. She wanted me to be her dolly. I wasn't allowed to talk, of course. Naminé forbade me from talking unless she gave me permission. So, I couldn't answer Roxas, of course. I was a good boy. Luckily for me, Naminé responded to Roxas.

"Go away, Roxas! Demyx is mine! I'm playing with him and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Roxas did do something about it. He let out a large wail and forced the doors open with the use of a fairly heavy sword that a suit of armor decorating the hall had previously been wielding. He smashed through the doors, stabbing at the thing until it was so broken that it completely fell apart when he kicked it. Quickly, he dropped the sword, grabbed me up by the sleeve, and hastily dragged me off to the backyard where he tore the bonnet and skirt from my body.

"How can you let that little witch do this to you?" Roxas had demanded.

I didn't respond, simply smiled at Roxas shyly. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to speak or not, so I kept my mouth shut. I was a good boy, and I wanted Roxas to know it, too. He and I didn't spend much time together so I wanted to be sure that he knew.

Quickly, Roxas became angry with me. "Why aren't you talking? Are you a mute?"

I shook my head, but didn't respond verbally. I still had to show him I was a good boy.

"Speak! Why aren't you talking?"

Feeling that Roxas wasn't understanding that I was a good boy, I said quietly under my breath. "But Naminé said…" My light voice trailed off.

"What she said doesn't matter! Talk to me!"

So I did talk to Roxas. We had a decent conversation before Roxas told me to run and hide because we both heard Naminé looking for us. We got separated down a fork in a hallway because these men were moving a large painting that didn't allow enough room for both Roxas and I to fit. So we split up for a while. When we finally met up, Roxas had picked up a straggler, Axel, of course.

At the time, Axel was 17 and visiting the Snow estate with his father because Mr. Snow and Mr. Flynn had been close friends growing up. They were still close friends, and were delighted that their sons got along so swimmingly. Axel and Roxas had never met before at that time, but they instantly got along. When the two boys met up with me, they spent the rest of the day playing pranks on me. Torturing me soon became their favorite pastime.

I approached the bed with a bit of caution in my steps. Fear that they would get angry at me for disturbing their sleeping embrace appeared in the back of my mind. I was a little apprehensive about shaking Roxas awake as the blond had requested. Technically, Mrs. and Mr. Snow said I wasn't allowed to touch either Roxas or Naminé without them asking me to or unless they touched me. To prove to Roxas that I was a good boy, I defied his parents in order to make him happier. He didn't like being woken up by the bell I was supposed to ring and preferred a more gentle approach.

Swallowing my fear, I extended my hands outwards and pressed them against Roxas' shoulder, lightly shaking the blond.

Roxas stirred for a moment before his eyes opened. It seemed panic overcame him as he realized Axel was in his bed and he immediately turned to face me instead of Axel, which, in turn, awoke the redhead. They turned to glare at me in an instant and Axel was immediately off the bed, lunging at me. He grabbed me up by the collar of my shirt and let out a low growl.

"Demyx, if you tell anyone, I sweartoGod…" he trailed off, unable to think of an appropriate threat.

I squeaked out of fear as I melted under Axel's fiery gaze. Hastily, I shook my head from side to side. "No, I'm sorry, I'm not… I don't… I knew about you two…" I meekly explained. "Congratulations…"

Axel stood there glowering at me for a while before Roxas called him back to bed. Once the redhead was back under the sheets, pulling Roxas's back against his chest in an embrace in which they were both facing Demyx. Then to Demyx, the blond said, "Tell Father I'm feeling ill and that Axel's taking care of me. If you tell him anything else, I'll make sure that Axel shoves his fist so far up your ass that he'll be able to tear out your spine and make me a necklace out of it."

I simply nodded and left quickly. Being in such an environment was uncomfortable for me. Not because Axel and Roxas were both men, but because they were both ornery and volatile. They were especially ornery and volatile when it came to relationships, as I'd learned through many years of experience. They took courtship to the next level (though they'd only pursued females before).

As I approached Naminé's room, trepidation made me tremble. I didn't want to face her after yesterday. My heart beat loudly in my ears like a drum and my throat went dry, forcing me to swallow constantly. I heaved a shaky sigh and raked a hand through my oily unkempt hair before entering the blonde's room.

She was asleep, of course. It was odd how innocent and angelic Naminé looked as she slept. Watching her dream, one would never guess about the horrid nature she hid inside. One would never guess the cruel things she did for her own amusement.

I rang the bell (she preferred the bell) until she began to slowly awaken. I remained in the room to make sure that she actually woke up. There were more times than I can count that she would fall back asleep for the mere satisfaction of getting me in trouble for not doing my job properly. She really liked getting me in trouble despite the fact that I did everything I could to prove to her that I was a good boy.

As the blonde came into consciousness, her bedroom door opened again and Mr. Snow was there looking quite pleased. It was at that moment that I realized it was Naminé's birthday that day. He was coming to tell her about the luxurious day she'd be having, I knew it.

Mr. Snow briefly greeted me, and I informed him about Roxas' "illness." He simply nodded and continued on to tell Naminé, "Happy birthday my little princess." He smiled a big proud smile at her as he sat next to her on the bed.

"Thanks, Daddy," Naminé said with a giggle. She looked so demure and innocent that it sickened me. How could she act so normally when she'd done such horrid, horrid things?

"Today, since you are the princess, you get three wishes, alright? Three wishes that Daddy will grant no matter what they are."

"Hmm… Well I'll save two of my wishes, because I haven't thought of anything really yet. But right now, I'll use one of them. I want Demyx to be my personal butler! I'm sick of him having to tend to Roxas and the house and you! I want him to be mine, Daddy, please?" she begged.

My heart was so empty I couldn't feel the pain these demands normally would've caused.

Mr. Snow smiled at his daughter. "Why, of coursehe can be your personal butler! Such a simple request, ah, such a modest daughter I've raised…"

It was at that point that I stopped listening. It could've been the lack of sleep, or the lack of food, or even the lack of feeling, but when he said those words, my body couldn't handle it anymore. I blacked out.