Warning: First of all, I do not own any characters from Kingdom Hearts otherwise the game would be extremely demented. Second, there is absolutely NO excuse for the ridiculousness and stupidity of this Fanfic. But if you want an explanation before reading it (or after) scroll down to my end comments. Finally, no, I'm not thinking its good – I actually think its stupid and that's why I wrote it.
Letters floated in the air in front of the two men. The pointed font spelled out the letters D-M-Y-E. A green X formed as well, and the letters began to circle each other, rearranging themselves to spell another word: DEMYX.
"That shall be your name now, Demyx, Number nine," the Superior said. "Forget who and what you were because you can never go back." His dark face was pulled in a serious frown.
But the new member of the Organization was paying no attention. He was far more concerned with the letters still floating in midair. How could letters float? They must be smoke or illusions…or…something like that. How fascinating! The urge was too great. He ran his hand through his spiky blond hair before reaching up to run his hand through the hazy letters.
"Wai-!" Xemnas tried to warn him. But it was too late.
"AAAAHHHHH!!!" Number nine screamed in surprise and pain. The X was lodged in his hand and the blood trickled from the wound.
Xemnas scowled. Whoever had recruited this fool was dead meat. Really dead meat. I mean someone shot it ten times in the head then took a car and ran it over twice for good measure. Well…maybe not that dead. They did need more members. In any case, he had matters to attend to.
"This is Castle Oblivion. You are now the youngest member. There is only one empty room. Find someone to show you around, I'm busy," he said, lazily letting the words fall out of his mouth. Without another glance or any look of concern for the other's hand, the Superior turned and disappeared.
The letters vanished at his departure but the injury remained. Demyx whimpered pathetically and, holding that wrist with his unhurt left hand, hurried up to the castle steps to ask for a Band-Aid.
A hooded figure stepped through the doors just before he got to them. Upon catching sight of Demy, he removed his hood (the long, spiked red hair completely undisturbed by the covering) and gave a nod with a sly smile. "I'm Axel, Number eight – got it memorized? You must be the new member."
Demy shuddered. He had a feeling it might have been from blood loss but this guy was also really creepy. His green eyes along with that devious smile gave Demyx the sense that Axel was plotting his death at that very moment. Not a very good choice for a guide. He hoped desperately that there were more members, never taking it in consideration that they were given numbers for a reason. Couldn't be helped though – he wanted a Band-Aid before his cut started hemorrhaging.
Demyx nodded fervently in response and quickly asked, "Can I have something for this?"
Axel seemed to have not noticed it before because he instantly made a face of revulsion at the jagged laceration in Demy's palm. "No, find someone else." Without another word he vanished with one last look of almost disgust. Although he couldn't be one hundred percent sure, Demyx had a strong feeling that Number eight had a weak stomach for blood.
He looked down: the blood was beginning to drip off his hand. With a sigh, he entered the oddly proportioned castle.
The first thing he noticed was the stark whiteness of the place. The walls were white, the floors were a patterned white marble and columns of marble stood against the walls. He looked up. The ceiling seemed to be inconceivably high and balconies wrapped around each floor – about thirteen to be exact. There was no one around.
He decided to try the closest door. Opening it, Demyx found a lone man slaving over a kitchen stove. Knives flashed, slicing the vegetables and meat and a pot of something steamed on the hot stove. The man had a multiple braids pulled into a rough ponytail and enormous sideburns as if black two cats had perched on either side of his face. The cloak matched his, Xemnas' and Axel's, so this one must be a member as well.
"Excuse me." Demyx cleared his throat to be heard over the slashing knives and bubbling pot.
The man looked up and spotted the young blonde. "Who are you?" His voice was gruff and demanding without the slightest hint of politeness.
"I'm new, I was wondering if you could give me a Band-Aid?"
Upon catching sight of the blood, the man's expression changed to livid. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY KITCHEN WITH YOUR FILTHY BLOOD!!!"
Demy jumped and quickly ran out of the room. Thuds against the door closing behind him assured him of his assumption that this was definitely not someone to come into any contact whatsoever. "AND STAY OUT!!" He could still hear the voice shouting through the closed door. It didn't seem like so good an idea to go into closed doors anymore, so he trudged up the stairs, looking for some form of life. His hand was still bleeding. Lazily, he wondered if he had that disorder that disallowed his blood from clotting – that would suck.
The blonde reached the sixth floor and found a door open. Well, obviously whoever was in here didn't care about privacy so it probably wouldn't hurt to look inside.
Books. Not much else to say about it. Row upon row of books. Shelf upon shelf, stack upon stack. It was an enormous room filled with books in neatly arranged shelves. In corner was a few comfortable looking chairs and a couch – every one of them white or shades of light blue. He did a double take when he saw a small figure curled up on the fluffy sofa, the back facing him. If he listened closely, he could hear heavy breathing coming from the figure cloaked in matching black. Asleep. How useless. From experience, Demyx knew quite well that waking someone up when they're sleeping isn't a good idea. He turned to go when another idea struck him.
The other opened his eyes, his peaceful slumber disturbed by something. Everything was quiet around him. All he could see was the back of his couch, though, so he slowly turned over, careful not to roll off the edge.
"Oh! You're awake!" Demyx smiled. "I hope it's not my fault."
The presence of another person seemed to have startled the smaller one, and he visibly jumped and very nearly feel off the couch he had been resting on. Quickly, he sat up, pushing his grey blue hair out of his face and wiping the momentary look of surprise from his face. "Who are you?" His voice was smooth and calm without the slightest hint of emotion but nonetheless lacking monotone.
"My name is Demyx, I'm Number nine and the newest member. I just got here today." This one looked much nicer than the others he had met. There was no hint of intimidation about him at all. The blonde shuffled his booted feet and looked down. "So, do you think you could show me around?"
The smaller person paused, his and face still concealing all his secrets. His sapphire eyes ran over Demyx one or two times, reading him like a book before he settled his gaze back on Demy's face. "Fine."
"Yay!" Demy grinned and looked back up. Without asking permission, he seated himself next to the other and asked, "What's your name anyway?"
Obviously uncomfortable at their closeness, the one with blue hair shifted slightly to the side. "Zexion. Number six – your superior." Demyx noticed Zexion sniff the air and cocked his head curiously. "I smell blood," Zexion said without preamble or further explanation.
"Oh, yeah, I cut myself when I got here but its okay now, I have a temporary bandage until I can get a real one." He showed his right palm wrapped in what looked like–"There were so many books so I used some pages from this one." He held up a battered book with a few pages missing.
Zexion looked at him in shock before he exploded. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! HOW DARE YOU DESECRATE MY LIBRARY!!"
The blonde watched the short one scream at him with something like amusement, fear, and bewilderment combined on his face. Although Zexion was possibly an entire foot shorter than him, he was rather scary when mad. But seeing such a small person so angry over such a trivial thing. "But its just a book Zexion. There are a lot more in here," he pointed out innocently when Zexion paused.
"I BOUGHT EVERY BOOK IN THIS GODDAMN ROOM AND THAT ONE IS WORTH MORE THAN YOU ARE!!" With that he stood up and continued his tirade, towering over the seated Demyx and taking more and more breaths in between words.
Demy, not particularly enjoying his first day at the castle and not very fond of being in such a vulnerable position rose as well and looked down on Zexion's livid face. Yep. At least a foot taller – maybe more; the top of the grayish hair didn't quite reach his shoulders.
Finally, Zexion stopped and took several shrill, short breaths, seeming to lose concentration on anything but that.
Taking advantage of the break, the blonde held up the book again and opened it to the back. "See? Its only from the back. I didn't use pages with words on them."
Zexion looked up sharply. "What?! Give…me that." He flipped through the pages slowly, checking for anything amiss but the two pages already mentioned. "Well…this cost me…100 munnies. Give me…twenty…and we'll be…even," he said between breaths.
Demyx laughed. He sort of liked this guy. It was kind of scary when he was mad, but he apparently got mad at silly things. "I didn't think kids cared so much about their books." Xemnas must have been wrong about the "youngest member" part or else he had forgotten about Zexion.
Blue eyes widened in shock. "Kid?"
Demy cocked his head again. "Right? I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm older than you and I'm nineteen so…"
"HOW DO I LOOK YOUNGER THAN YOU?! I AM TWENTY-SIX YEARS OLD!!" Zexion shouted angrily.
"Well, you're just really short and small."
If possible, his eyes widened even more and he screamed even louder than before, "I AM YOUR SUPERIOR!! NEVER CALL ME THAT A–" he broke off, clutching his throat. Shrill short breaths were all he could emit and he looked at Demyx in horror before collapsing to the floor. He began squirming as if trying to find a position in which he could breathe again and clawing helplessly at his chest. All the while Demyx looked on in terror.
"Oh my god! I killed him!" Footsteps echoed down the hall outside and Demy turned quickly to the wheezing member before running out. "I'll be right back Zexion, okay? I'll get help." He dashed out of the library and nearly collided with another man. This one had shoulder-length pink hair and had the faint scent of roses about him.
"Who the hell are you?" The man asked, his voice smooth but deep.
"I'm new, but Zexion is dying in there!" Not really wanting to have the guilt of killing someone on his conscience (still new to the whole heartless thing), he skipped formalities and pointed before dragging the man in with him.
Upon seeing Zexion thrashing about with shrill wheezes, the pink-haired man smiled and looked back at Demyx. "What did you do to make him so mad? He's having an asthma attack and needs his inhaler. Though with it progressed this far, I think he might need an emergency injection of his medication. In any case, please tell me what you said because I've never been able to do this to him before." With that he chuckled.
Demy looked at him in astonishment. "That's not very nice. I didn't mean to do it…Anyway, where is that stuff?" He looked around comically.
"In the basement in his room. Just go down to the first floor, enter the door at the far end of the room and once down in the basement, go through the only undecorated door." The man had an odd way of pointing and directing with his hand. They were still in the library – it wasn't as if Demy could actually see the rooms materialize as he motioned.
"Okay, thanks I guess," Demyx nodded and picked up Number six. Without another word, he dashed out and hurried to follow the direction that man had given him. He wondered if he was gay. Seriously, the guy smelled like flowers and had pink hair. He also seemed to enjoy irking Zexion. Wasn't that the first step of childish love – give your crush utter hell by picking on them and beating them up? Ever innocent, he decided to ask that man about that later.
The basement was really dark, but he found the unmarked door easily and he was rewarded with an unlocked door. By now, Number six had grown silent but still writhed weakly from time to time, his chest expanding and contracting against Demy's should but unable to inhale any air.
The room was dimly lit and had towers of neatly stacked books along the walls with breaks for the desk and another door. There was a huge, four poster bed with a fluffy light blue comforter and sheets. Full pillows lined the top neatly and invitingly and a darker blue canopy and pulled back curtains decorated it. The floor was a thick white carpet that sunk in slightly with each step and the walls were the same bluish white of the main hall.
Demyx took no time to appreciate the décor, however, and whisked the mutely gasping Zexion onto his bed. Without caring about common courtesy, he began rushing through the drawers of the desk until he found a strange, dust-covered syringe in the far back. That guy must have been right – he must not have had to use this for a long time. It looked full, though, so he uncapped it gingerly. Hoping he was doing this right, he pressed the piston in until a tiny spray of clear fluid shot out of the hollow needle. He was about to jab the needle into Zexion before he paused.
Where was he supposed to put the injection? Was he going to be able to get through Zexion's clothing? Can't breathe. Breathing, lungs. Lungs in chest area. He had been grabbing there before he lost consciousness. It all made sense. To be extra sure, he decided to remove the cloak just enough to give him a free shot.
Gingerly, he unzipped Zexion's cloak to mid-torsa and jabbed the needle into his weakly spasming chest, injecting the clear liquid into his body. By now Demyx was thoroughly worn out from all that stress and he took out the syringe and laid his head down on Zexion's chest, closing his sea-green eyes.
Minutes passed and Zexion's breathing slowly went back to normal. Within a few more minutes, his eyes fluttered open. His chest felt heavy but he just lay there for a few more minutes without the thought registering. Suddenly, he brought gaze to look at the cause of the heaviness and gasped, jerking himself away with a repulsed look on his face.
Demy woke up when his head fell to a lower height and he jumped.
"What the hell were you doing?" Zexion said croakily, his emotionless voice back again. "What the hell are you doing in my room?" He spotted the empty syringe and mumbled, "Thanks," before Demyx could explain. "I want you to get out, though."
"Wait, aren't you, going to," he yawned before continuing, "show me around?"
"Go away. I'm going to bed." With such utter calm in his voice, Demyx found it hard to believe this was the same person who had been yelling at him thirty minutes ago.
"Okay, but where can I go? Xemnas said there was only one room."
Zexion's eyes opened a little more in subtle shock, the expression a clear Shit. "Yeah, go out that door and turn left – it's the first door on the left. Now go away." Without another word, he stretched out on his enormous bed and lay his head down on the mountain of pillows, his eyes instantly closing in a peaceful sleep.
Demy walked out of the room and tiptoed through the darkness to try and find the room Zexion had mentioned. Opening the unlocked door, he looked back and smiled before shutting it behind him.
So anyway, this was based off an RP my friend and I discussed and never went through with. Axel being weak-stomached, Demyx stabbing himself on the letters, Zexy being asthmatic - but some are just my silly additions. I hope you all like it! I lurv Zemyx and this is my second fanfic of them. Please review!!! I want to continue but Im not really sure if it would be worth it, so review, faves, alerts, anything to motivate me would be greatly appreciated!