"You're a Heartless."
She opened her mouth for rebuttal when Axel silenced her by saying, "Like me."
She wasn't a Heartless. She had a heart. A saved heart. She could feel it. Inside her it was warm and alive; it beat with a growing, fiery passion. This man's words angered her. What did he know about her heart? Much less himself: from the looks of him, she observed that he was just a clever drone. The worker bee of the colony, adept at obedience and loyal till death; just as mindless and like a puppet. He had no air around him. He was just there, in a "false suspended animation". The girl pouted. The Nobody emitted a fox-like smile.
"If it were true," she began. Axel jerked back and a strange look – almost a mix of fear and surprise – contorted his face. "It would be true to its essence, and I'd be nothing more than the shell rather than that I am as a whole."
"What?" Axel replied in a dumbstruck manner. He relaxed a bit, oh so certain she had swallowed not only the bait, but the hook too. The prey eyed the predator. What was he planning? Axel's look changed from calm to worried as he saw her head turn away, glaring. She was reminiscing, mouthing off inaudible words. The redhead straightened up his posture and stepped toward her figure.
"Time is flying by so fast. It would make sense that you wouldn't have any recollection of your past, even if I were a physical manifestation of your memories. You're empty. Not one living cell is in you. You're just hard-packed smoke. Darkness. You color yourself. What are you then? Still a Nobody. Still a memory. . . ."
"So what you're saying is that I'm," he paused for a moment, organizing his thoughts. But were they thoughts? If what she was saying was true, Axel would be, and all other existence, "a memory of the world? Everything around me is just 'hard-packed dust'?" He watched the girl nod solemnly. Her philosophy made his mind ache.
"You are nothing but the manifestation of another's memory. Of darkness, you are the result of a dark medium. You are the artwork, the model, the design. You are the shadow and the light. Darkness animated you for someone else's wishes, Axel. You have no emotions or thoughts. How you think is the result of how others thought you thought. The way you move, your looks. Even the way you sound. It's all the result of the remnants: someone has pieced together that shattered, lost memory of who you were, and what you are thought to be now. They've asked the darkness to connect the dots as they aligned the pieces. It's been so long since you've been remembered, so now you are different from what you truly were back then."
Axel stared at the girl blankly. He then said, "So, I'm a probability. I am who I am now, only because that's how someone drew me on paper, trying to find the real Axel? So, Xenmas is ordering me around, because someone thought he was the boss; and I listen to him because someone remembers me as a dedicated lackey?"
"Exactly. No one can remember your past form. Much less, anything complete about you. Your name wasn't Axel, the way I remember you. Xenmas is remembered as who he can be remembered as. Nothing is certain about who you were, and that makes you who you are now."
"You say I'm not a person, but you still consider me a person. Are you the one who 'drew' me?"
"No. I asked for a picture of you from my heart, but I can't even recall your name. You are. . . nobody."
Axel spared her a stupid look. Of course he knew that he was a Nobody. He didn't truly exist. After his heart was ripped from him, the remains of his person went through a "faux-evangelicism", a rebirth, if you will. He knew nothing but what people told him. But were the things he was told true? Were the people real? Axel sorted through everything. He combed the idealistic chains that, to his remaining thoughts, seemed correct and in place. What did it all mean? Was this girl even real? He questioned her.
"Pursuing this matter further would be a waste of your precious time, Axel."
The man flinched. What time did he have? Xenmas told him to return within – Axel remembered the unreal memory. He was thought to be a obedient drone. If he refused to listen, would that make him his own person? Would it make him stand out – he'd be a true form instead of what this girl was saying? Or would it just be how someone else remembered him: rebellious? And was this philosophy all true? Was this even happening?
Axel's electric green eyes scanned the girl. Her head was still away, but she was smiling. She had a heart. A heart and memories. She was remembering things right in front of Axel. It made him jealous, but, Nobodies did not have hearts that could convey emotions or thoughts. How could he be jealous, he wondered. It was the dream of all Nobodies to have hearts. They longed to remember; however, Nobodies couldn't dream. It confused him.
"How do you know me if you can't remember me?"
The girl's head swivelled and her eyes eventually bore into his. She had his same green eyes. And fiery red curls. Her mouth moved, but the sound passed his ears.
"I don't. You seem familiar. You told me your name – Axel. This familiarity I have is part of a strung memory. That's why I asked for your picture, if I could match it. The darkness has done a decent job at it, but you are not the way I could have pictured you – anyone, really. Someone else is looking for you. When you meet them––"
"What the hell is going on?" Axel exclaimed. Tiny sparks lit his gloved hands dimly. Internal rage was suffocating him. It was the jealousy: the passionate hunger for something real for his empty existence. The girl lowered her head.
"You must have been one heck of a guy, if someone remembers you – this much of you – like this!" She smiled to inwardly. She wished she could have met him before. She felt as if she did, but she wasn't sure. She couldn't be sure. Nothing ever fell into its right place and if it did, part of it was missing. Nowadays, it was a go-with-the-flow attitude that fueled the events of warfare of the twilit plane. It would never cease.
Axel hunkered down into a fighting stance. Technically, it was his very own trademark stance, but now, after this newborn philosophy, he wasn't so sure if he owned anything. But he could pretend that he did, if he actually didn't; yet it was a reputation's risk: he refused to harbor false entities like number nine. Demyx could be left to his own devices, and still have mounds of digressions from the truth. The Flurry of Dancing Flames summoned a fistful of heat, preparing to shut the girl up. Her quietness was overbearing, but so was her speech.
"It was nice to meet you, Axel." the girl whispered, and quickly looked over her shoulder. Axel paused, snarling. It was her end, now, that he could toy with. Dark puddles increased with the never ending rain. Axel's eyes flickered over to the illegible space behind her puny body, trying to see what the girl thought she heard. And just as this happened, she bolted to her left, down through the maze of the dark city. It caught the Nobody off guard, and after a slight pause, he ran after her.
Her head start allowed for her escape, which she did so fluently and slyly. Axel thought, either that or he was mentally slow. He glanced around, fuming. That girl was forever lost now, amidst the towering poetic metaphors. Everything felt like a rhetorical question. Alone, he unleashed his rage in a physical manner. And nothing in the city was broken. As poetry was made, it was edited. It was in a constant fix, formatting itself to the whims of they who wrote it.
Axel spat at it. He hated it. All of it – with a passion. He even hated himself. Nobodies couldn't have emotions. Axel's hate was empty.
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"What happened, dude?"
"Some girl was talking bullshit to me about someone drawing me as how they remembered or some shit."
"Like little Naminè?"
Axel would have slapped the Sharpshooter right then and there, but checked himself. Naminè could have done it – with the memories and all. She could be the one drawing him. She reconstructed memories on paper. But the girl who spoked to him wasn't Naminè. But as odds went, Naminè would need to be questioned.
"I don't know why this shit even happened or how the girl got there. She said some shit like she knew me from before and forgot me, and then tried to remember me and we are all like how people think of us as." Axel seethed in place. His fast-paced speech made Xigbar slow himself down to think upon what he heard. Axel glowered at the spires beneath his feet. It was not his job for thinking. He never considered himself a bee either. Bees made honey. He made sarcasm.
"Dude, you need a reality check! Something's been implanted in your brain by that Vexen dude, man! But he was so thrashed. . . anyways! Question one! What is the Orgy's goal?"
Axel moaned. "Get Kingdom Hearts."
"Two. Why are we special?" Xigbar poked at the sore spot festering in Axel's mind.
"We can think. We retained our bodies and all. Except our hearts. We control dusks and whatnot." the redhead replied in a drawled out manner.
"Good, good. Four! Should a duck go quack and like, no dude was around, would the duck be heard."
"If Nobodies aren't real then how can they exist. By the way, you skipped three."
The elder frowned at his partner. Axel was being a hard-butt today. Xigbar swiped at the other man. Axel hopped over. To him, it was no wonder why this world was they way it was, all dreary and such: it was sad poetry, all blank and emotional. But it was fake, as in "hence the name", Axel concluded. He forced a smile just to get the greying man off his back.
"You can never hit me, old man. Got it memorized?"
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"Mesmerized. I think he used to say that a lot. . . ." Naminè recited to herself, laughing childishly. "No, no. It was 'memorized'." She folded the cover of her sketch pad around the spiral binding, till the portfolio was shut.
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This is being written by two people, with hopefully correct grammar and punctuation. Ah, and, about the story. . . .
1. Hoodlums and Orgy are nicknames adopted from any and all KH enthusiasts. Don't hate.
2. Is the green eyed girl real? What of what she said? Is Naminè behind it?
We'd really appreciate some constructive criticism (good, bad, ugly, pretty reviews?) regarding the story, our writing style, etcetera. We hoped it would be longer. R&R?