Isa allows himself a final moment relish the silence atop the clock tower, the illusion of being alone, before he finally sighs out; "How long do you plan on interfering?"
He does not turn to look at Roxas when he approaches, though his eyes strain to see him in the corners of his vision. For a split second it isn't the young boy he finds, but the hardened organization member in a black coat, number XIII.
The image doesn't quite fall apart, but when he blinks all that's left of it is the shadow in Roxas's bright blue eyes and the hardness in his voice when he says.
"As long as it takes."
Isa sighs because he can, now, because he has a heart, now. He is human.
"And what, pray tell, are you trying to accomplish?"
"I won't let you hurt him again." And there it is. The crux of the matter. Spoken out into the open, left in the air between them instead of lingering within the endless frigid stare of those marble blue eyes.
It is a relief.
"It seems," Isa begins, glancing down the length of his legs at the ground far below, suppressing the turn of his stomach from the height, "you all forget that I did not come out of this unscathed, myself."
"Psh," He does not need to look to see Roxas rolling his eyes, pursing his lips in that way of his that has become so familiar. "Cry me a river, Isa."
"Shall I?" Isa slowly pushes himself to his feet, straightening his spine and standing at his full height. He towers over the blond and this is familiar too, this position, looking down his nose at an insolent face which does not bother to contain its dislike. "Would you be satisfied then, perhaps, Roxas?" He steps closer, and anyone might be cowed at his approach, Axel would have been. But Roxas stands steady, tilts his chin up in challenge. "Would you feel that I have atoned, and cease your endless persecution? I don't think it likely."
Roxas's jaw goes tight, and Isa sees the twitch of his fingers at his sides, wonders if perhaps the keyblades he wields so elegantly will be thrust into his chest. Perhaps he'll start all over as a Nobody, again. Or perhaps he'll be spared the torture this time around and finally be free.
But then again, if that were the sort of freedom he were after, he only need to take two steps to the left, and watch the sunset go rushing past.
He thinks of Axel's face, the taste of his tears, the slow mend of all that has broken between them, and knows he would not risk undoing it all, not for the world. Especially not for the boy before him. "If you're quite finished." The implicit move is loud enough to snap Roxas from whatever thoughts had quieted him.
He does not, of course, move. "Aren't you sick of all this?" Isa feels an eyebrow raise, curiosity getting the better of him. Roxas's own brows are furrowed and low, his jaw tight. "You're human now, why are you still hanging around? You don't have to follow anyone's orders now. You can live your own life, why do you keep…" He trails off, chewing the inside of his cheek, and the truth of this exercise is plain on the blond's face.
"You are jealous."
"Tch," Roxas glances away quickly, glaring off into distance, but if his cheeks are streaked red with a flush, or the sunset, Isa cannot be sure. Then looks back, his blue eyes blazing. "At least I'm not coward enough to deny it."
The jab is sharp, deadly accurate, designed to bleed him through and through and Isa cannot help but smirk at it, a breath of amusement vibrating in his throat. "That is not the sort jealousy that I speak of. But what you want from him isn't-"
"Don't." Roxas hisses. His fists are trembling, and Isa can feel a shift in the air, as if the keyblades themselves are reaching for their master. Perhaps Roxas is shaking because he is attempting to hold them back. "I don't need you to tell me how I feel!"
"No," Isa says, closing his eyes and bowing his head in a small nod of acquiescence. "No you do not. Nor do I doubt the sincerity of it. I…" And here, he hesitates. Here, he looks away. A human quirk, but it is easier to face the crimson sky than it is the boy before him. "I have loved Lea since I was your age. I will not presume to tell you how you feel." He inhales, and meets Roxas's eyes with all the deadly precision of The Luna Diviner. "But I will tell you this. It cannot happen."
Only a touch of doubt comes to those blue eyes of his, but it is enough. Roxas falters, and his voice has lost it's steel. "You…You don't…"
"I do. You are too young. The love he has for you is not, and cannot be what you seek. Perhaps someday, I grant you. But not now. Not for a long time. And you know it. That is why you come to me now, instead of him. But if it is not me, then rest assured, he will find another. And it will not be you."
Roxas's clenched fists slowly come undone, threads of rage unweaving, leaving behind ache. He sees it in his bowed shoulders, feels it in the distance of his eyes. The feeling itself is familiar, he has known it before. Lea would want him to be gentle, here. To sow the seeds of hope and spare Roxas's fragile new heart.
But he has never been gentle.
"I suggest you ask yourself, Roxas, what it is you hope to accomplish by standing in our way. And whom, exactly, you will hurt more in the process." The boy flinches as though he has been struck, and does not protest when Isa moves around him, and far, far away from the clock tower.
_END_