A/N: Wow, has it been a long time since I've written a fanfic… This is also my first time doing a Zemyx fic, though I've loved this pairing since there were only about four pages of stories of them on this site. This story was originally suppose to be one, long one-shot, but I decided to just split it into interconnected vignettes/drabbles.

I apologize if this first chapter is especially long and a bit boring, but a story has to start somewhere, right?

This story goes to Dualism for her avid support of this awesome pairing (with her incredible stories and dissertation) and for rekindling the Zemyx fan girl within me.

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts owned by Square Enix, etc. and "The Sun and Moon" written/sung by Mae.

Uncertainties

Wasted time
I cannot say that I was ready for this,
But when worlds collide…

Zexion wasn't quite sure of the circumstances that shrouded their first meeting. Oh definitely, he remembered the how and the why they met, but not the what that was born from their meeting, the explanation of which eluded him, continues to elude him.

He had been in the library then, that which he mentally referred to as his room since it was the place one would most likely find him if he wasn't in his real room. The high-ceilinged room housed hundreds of books, books Zexion had practically memorized the location of (not the contents of most, though, for he was intelligent and intellectual, but not a computer). The room was like most of those in Castle Oblivion, mocking with the purity of its white walls and large windows which held shelf upon shelf of stories, personal accounts, knowledge, and along with an ever glowing fireplace, it all radiated a small, comforting warmth which other places in the castle did not have. Perhaps this is truly what drew Zexion there, but that is beside the point.

All of the other members of the organization would casually stroll into the library when they needed research for a new mission, and then simply stroll back out. They were as unsurprised at Zexion's constant presence, hunched over a book absorbed in a tale or in research, as he was of their speedy arrival-and-departure. But that day, the routine had been broken.

Zexion did not look up as he heard footsteps approach the library and entered, nor did he look up when the footsteps stopped, hesitated, then approached a shelf before stopping again. He did look up when the faded reverberations of footsteps had stopped bouncing off the walls, realizing that too much silence had passed between footsteps to be the normal occurance.

He dragged his eyes from the tiny black print on the pages to the figure that stood at the shelf a few yards from the table he sat at. He recognized the non-hooded member as the new-recruit. The tall, slim man scrunched his brows as he examined the books, running his gloved hand through his blonde locks in slight frustration. He gave a small pout as his hand resumed to scratch his head in the clueless sort of way.

Zexion had heard talk of him, how he was klutzy and foolish, somewhat of an idiot even. He sighed as he decided that he might as well offer assistance. The sooner the blonde was out of the library, the sooner he could regain focus on his book.

"What are you looking for?" he called out to the blonde.

Startled, the blonde quickly looked to the source of the voice. Upon realizing it to be the man who was previously reading, he called in response, "Uh… a book about a world called Spira and some Sin-something…"

"Next case, third shelf."

The man hesitated for a second, not comprehending the rapid answer, before he managed to move to the appropriate book case and shelf. When he finally found the book, he pulled it out, rubbing off the thin layer of dust that had settled itself on the bindings.

"Thanks…" the blonde offered.

Zexion did not even wait for the reply as his attention returned to the open pages in front of him. Unfortunately his research was once again interrupted as his ears once again picked up the sound of footsteps, though it was not the footsteps themselves that caught his attention, but where they were going: toward him.

Zexion glanced up once again to see the blonde sit down in a chair beside him, drop the book on the table, and begin to flip through. Though his outer façade remained stoic, internally, a confused and slightly bemused expression formed, curious to the strange newcomer who would actually stay in the library. He looked back down to his work.

"It's my first mission, this trip to Spira," the blonde started as he continued to rustle through pages.

Zexion merely gave a "hn" in response in attempt to possibly stem the creation of conversation. Unfortunately, his response instead caused the blonde to continue.

"Oh, almost forgot, I'm Demyx. You must be… Zexion? I'd heard that you're usually in the library…"

Another affirmative "hn."

"Yeah, I just got in a few weeks ago. Everyone seems pretty… nice, I guess… I was kinda bored the past weeks since the Superior wanted me to settle in before I started working. But instead, I've been in my room with no one to talk to since everyone seemed to always be gone, and…"

Zexion sighed in exasperation at the conversation – more like a superfluous use of words – directed toward him. At this rate, he would not finish his research. The voice continued on in its bubbly unreserved. This would be the third time he would look away from the book, a new personal record.

"Would you be quiet, Number IX," he said with a cold edge and a glare, more of a command than a suggestion.

Immediately, the blonde shut his mouth mid-sentence and looked down at his own book.

Zexion, satisfied that he'd finally achieved peace and quiet, looked down again, ready to be engrossed upon his subject. That is, until he heard the pages of the book beside him rustle continually and pages flip at increasing speed. As the noise continued, Zexion somewhat wished that he had let the man keep talking since at least he could block that out more easily. His wish did not go unheeded as the flipping of pages stopped.

"I asked for the Superior to give me all reconnaissance missions."

Realizing that he wouldn't have any quiet while the blonde was here, he decided to humor him with his short responses. He would get tired of talking eventually.

"Why reconnaissance," he asked without looking up, once again more of a statement than an inquiry.

"Ah, I don't like the whole face-off fighting scene. I'd rather not fight if I didn't have to."

Zexion looked up in surprise – or what would have been surprised had his face not been emotionless. Everyone in the Organization loved to fight, had a blood lust, except him, who would rather not dirty his hands. He would never have thought he'd meet someone who shared this aspect.

Quietly, he replied with less of an edge to his voice, "It is the same with me."

Demyx cracked a wide grin, believing that he had knocked down the first wall, and once again opened the floodgate of conversation.

Zexion groaned inwardly at the nonstop chatter. But to his surprise, he did not block the words out. He listened instead. It was curiosity, he reasoned with himself, interest toward a new, strange specimen to study.

And he continued to listen when Demyx came back with a new mission and the next after that. It became Demyx's routine to find the right book (with Zexion's directions), sit down, and simply go off talking to Zexion. And Zexion continued to listen, give a response sometimes, but mostly listen.

On some rare occasion – becoming increasingly more common as the days went by – Demyx would come even when he didn't have a mission, in search of the person he knew would listen.

This… thing (for lack of a better word)… couldn't possibly be friendship. It was all curiosity - or the memory of curiosity, to be accurate – Zexion continued to reason. Even though he had dropped the use of "Number IX" and replaced it with "Demyx." Even though he gave the smallest fraction of a smile when Demyx's bright face entered the library doors.

No, this could not be friendship.