Disclaimer: Nothing of the Kingdom Hearts world belongs to me. Nothing. And the title of the chapter is a line from "Savin' Me", which belongs to Nickelback.

A/N: Well, THIS right here is my PRECIOUS BABY, my main story, even if I have a few other ideas in the making. I'm gonna go ahead and say this in advance: I am REALLY sorry if I rush some parts or if I'm too wordy on other parts. I tend to do that… a lot. I don't really have that much experience in writing narratives seriously, and trust me when I say this: I'm pretty young compared to all the great writers on Well, let's get this show on the road, shall we?

Edit: Okay. I just reread it. I really didn't like a lot of parts, so I took a ton out and added some new stuff in. A lot of it is still the same as before, though. Hope this version is better? Enjoy! Oh, by the way, the new intro sounds better if you read it out loud to yourself. It adds feeling that way, especially, if you have dramatic pauses. :P

Started rewriting on 02.20.08 at about 5 A.M.

Finished editing on 03.12.08 at about 5:15 A.M.

Chapter 1: Terrified of These Four Walls

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Once upon a time, there was a teenage boy. He had loving parents, an older brother who protected him whenever he could, and friends who cared about him. One day, he met a beautiful girl who made his heart flutter. They fell in love and lived happily ever after.

This is how it was supposed to be.

This is how it wasn't.

Once upon a time, there was a teenage boy. He had parents who seemed fake and conceited, friends who'd abandoned him at the first sight of trouble, and no one to depend on. Except for his older brother, that is. One day, he came home from school and locked himself in his room. He didn't come out. Not until his brother kicked the door open and found the teen curled up in his sheets, music blasting from the headphones around his neck, eyes shut, and mind off somewhere far away. His brother was all he had, and he knew that. He lived, not happily, but he did.

This is how it wasn't supposed to be.

But this is how it was.

Roxas didn't believe in Happily Ever After. He didn't care for One True Love. That was because it never worked out, not for him anyway. But what he'd always hated the most was lies. Friends moved on and left, even if they'd promised they'd always stay. Promises were broken and treated like trash. After all, who the fuck cared about chivalry these days?

It wasn't like he could do anything to change it, though. How could he, when all he could manage at the moment was resisting the urge to scream his Goddamn lungs out? He couldn't count how many times he'd wanted to in the past year; it was probably well into the thousands. He often felt that the walls were closing in on him, that the ceiling and sometimes the sky were about to come crashing down on him. He wanted to burst away from his life and run away somewhere. He didn't know where; all he knew was that he needed to do something to get out. Maybe once he was out, he could just keep on running forever, never stopping, no restraints, nothing holding him back. Maybe he'd finally be free.

Roxas sat idly in his seat waiting for the class to finally start and distract him from thinking, absent-mindedly twirling his pencil in perfect arcs and spins in and about his fingers. With his free hand, he distractedly combed through his messy, blond hair that seemed impossible to tame. He needed some way, any way to keep himself busy.

And he wanted to scream. Again, that is. He just wanted to get out and escape this hell of a home, this hell of a city, this hell of a life. Yet still, no matter what happened, his face never seemed to betray the intense thoughts and emotions hidden behind his perfect, porcelain mask of pure apathy. He hadn't always been like this, but he was just another teenager with issues, after all. There really was absolutely no need to worry about him. Really. And isn't it better when everyone thinks you're okay?

And his heart panged with a dull emptiness.

The door suddenly swung open, effectively knocking Roxas out of his thoughts and revealing Zexion Winters, his English Literature AP class teacher. Eyes, well, eye, really—Zexion's slate-colored hair was always perfectly combed and aligned to cover the right side of his face—, demanding silence, Zexion apathetically stared down at them from the front of the room, his hard gaze silencing the buzzing chatter that had dominated the class before his arrival.

"We are having a new student join the class today. " Zexion's soft, clear voice sliced and rang through the silent classroom as his shoes clicked, and very nearly echoed, across the linoleum floor. He gestured for someone to enter the classroom with a flourish of his left arm, and all eyes, save Roxas's, instantly shot toward the door.

Roxas could care less about some new student. It's just another student in this already crammed school, he thought Feeling no obligation to even act interested, Roxas continued to stare down at the small print of his textbook.

"The name's Axel. Axel Fyras, got it memorized?" the new kid lazily drawled as he strutted into the classroom, right hand tapping at the side of his head with a long, slender index finger, the other hand tucked nonchalantly into his pocket.

Not allowing any valuable class time to be wasted on introductions, Zexion swiftly continued, "Moving right along, Mr. Fyras, your seat for the remainder of the year is seat 4-D, adjacent to Mr. Strife." With another graceful sweep of his arm, Zexion presented to Axel his seat.

Roxas's eyes shot up at the mention of his name. It wasn't until Axel had begun sauntering toward his newly appointed seat that Roxas acknowledged the new student's presence. He instantly took in Axel's vibrant, red hair that would put strawberries to shame and that instantly brightened the otherwise dull room and his deep, emerald, jade green eyes that nearly seemed to engulf the class with its rich color. Roxas didn't even notice that the entire class had turned their heads and focused their sights on both him and Axel; he'd been too busy drowning in each and every last detail of the redhead: how his pants clung and hugged at Axel's slim build, how his hair bounced with a natural fluffiness and seemed to glow in the morning light, how thin those swaying hips were, how those two triangle-shaped black tattoos, one on each cheek, seemed to complement his style in everyway. He distractedly felt his cheeks heat up.

And his heart skipped a beat.

As if on cue, Axel suddenly turned toward the small blond and smirked. "You Strife?" he said casually, almost innocently even. Axel's too-green eyes (they seemed so deep that you could spend ten lifetimes exploring them and still have only barely covered the surface) ran over Roxas's slim body.

Roxas quickly and sullenly nodded at an angle that almost wasn't noticeable, but Axel caught the nod and sat down, eyes still evaluating every one of Roxas's traits, from his gossamer, platinum blond locks and his distinctive clothing style that was the same, yet at the same time, just different from everyone else's to his nimble and graceful hands that still hadn't stopped whirling the pencil between his fingers. Honestly intrigued by the timid blond, Axel continued to study his physical features as Roxas pointedly stared at the board and began to take notes.

Roxas never enjoyed having eyes on him or anywhere near him, but the way Axel carried himself just screamed for attention. Though the front of the class had quickly gone back to focusing on Zexion's detailed lecture on the syntax or symbolism or something of some book, most of the students who sat behind Axel maintained their attention on the conspicuous new student. Although the eyes weren't concentrated on him, Roxas could still feel the almost palpable tension of the scrutinizing going on behind him.

And his breath caught in his throat.

The walls had begun to close in on him again, and Roxas had an overwhelming urge to curl into a fetal position right then and there and just explode with the flooding emotions. His pulse began to rapidly increase, and his already porcelain skin paled even further. He shrunk into himself, only slightly, clutched his right bicep with his left hand as his right hand continued to scribble down notes. His fingers dug deeper, his pencil pressed harder, but all Roxas could focus on was the feeling of the eyes on him, ready to judge and ready to ostracize.

Roxas jolted out of his trance with a small jerk of his head when the bell signifying that his first period class had finally ended shrilly rang and resounded across the school. Sighing to himself, he immediately began gathering his items and cleaning up, briskly jotting his homework down on a sheet of paper and heading out of the claustrophobic classroom when a hand gently laid itself on his shoulder. Not being accustomed to being touched by anyone, Roxas jumped a little and quickly turned around, instantly masking his discomfort with his usual face of apathy.

Roxas's oceanic midnight blue eyes met Axel's endless emerald-jade eyes for a timeless second before he ducked his head, desperately trying to hide his embarrassment. Axel, however, had a different idea and had cupped Roxas's chin to force him to look up in one graceful swoop of his arm. Everyone, including Zexion, had already vacated the classroom in favor of heading out, leaving only Roxas and Axel left in the classroom. Unable to look away from Axel's drilling eyes, Roxas found himself gravitating into the eyes' depths. It wasn't one of those "I can see into your soul" moments that overly-cheesy movies and books seemed to always integrate; Roxas just couldn't—couldn't—escape the magnetic pull of the brilliant color in Axel's eyes. He suddenly thought that if he were an artist, Axel would be a perfect model.

"So, Strife, you got a first name?" Axel let go of Roxas's chin and plunged both hands into his pockets, continuing smoothly. "Just thought that your first name would be a hell of a lot easier to call you by in case I needed you for something."

Complete silence in the classroom ensued for a moment before Roxas snapped out of his daze and realized that an answer was expected of him. "Roxas," he simply muttered in an almost-whisper before turning around and walking out of the classroom. He didn't expect any kind of acknowledgement, especially from someone he'd just met not an hour ago, and was surprised when he heard Axel call out, "I'll be seeing you around then, Roxas." Roxas heard rather than saw the smirk that was evident in Axel's tone. Continuing as if he hadn't heard a thing, Roxas indifferently walked through the student-laden halls, the voices mixing and mingling to form mindless background drabble. When he arrived at his class, he made a beeline for his seat in the back, next to the window.

Heavily slumping down into his seat, Roxas heaved a sigh and laid his head in his arms, habitually turning and staring out the window for a moment. Axel was… definitely different from the other students at his school. Everyone else either seemed to not care about him (which wasn't that bad, really; he didn't want to be bothered) or they seemed to feel some obligation to tease him, label him. Axel had actually talked to him. Roxas sighed yet again, knowing that there was no way Axel, or anyone, really, would stick with him. Why would they, after all? They didn't have any obligation to, and he was completely fine. He inclined his eyes back toward the front of the room, just as the bell rang.

And he wanted to punch a wall .Or maybe kick a boulder. Whichever hurt more.

The rest of the class passed by as usual: without any kind of distraction hindering Roxas from his schoolwork. When the bell rang, Roxas quickly and efficiently packed his supplies and headed to his next class, allowing the daily routine to sweep him away in its flurry of events, letting his body systematically take over while his mind stayed idle. Somehow avoiding the jostling from the crowds of students all walking to their classes, Roxas plopped down into his seat alone at his worktable. Of course everyone would be paired up, leaving him to work on his own; it was always like this anyway. Peripherally, he caught the sight of a brilliant red, and he instinctively raised his eyes only to be met with none other than Axel, leaning against the doorway, waiting to be introduced. Ducking his head before Axel could notice him, and before he could become too entranced by the lanky redhead, Roxas pored over the details and etchings on his desktop.

A sudden slam of a large book in the midst of all the clamor onto a table quieted all the students and pulled their eyes to the front of the room. Vexen, who was, honestly, slightly psychotic at times, glowered down at the class with a mad look in his eyes. "Class! We have a new student joining us today." Axel took this as his cue to walk into the classroom, strutting with the same air of confidence. He caught sight of Roxas glaring down at his tabletop, noticing that the only empty seat was beside him, and grinned maliciously. Already tired of introducing himself, he repeated exactly what he'd said in his previous classes and simply smirked down at the class, emerald eyes still boring into Roxas's skull.

"Your old school has informed me you have certain—," Vexen began, pausing uncertainly to search for the right word, "affinity with fire." At this, Axel's leer widened even more, if that was possible, as his eyes seemed to reminisce to some past scene in his life and simply nodded his affirmation." For this reason, you will be paired up with Roxas Strife," Vexen gestured toward where Roxas was seated. "Roxas, I hope you will be able to restrain Axel's…urges."

Once again viciously dragged out of his thoughts by a mention of his name, Roxas eyes widened as he realized what his teacher had asked of him, nearly rising out of his seat to refuse the proposal, restraining himself just in time. He had no idea why his body so violently rejected the thought of having Axel in close proximity to him; it wasn't like he hated Axel or was afraid of him, after all. He clenched his hands around his arms and drew into himself just the slightest bit.

Axel tried, and failed, to wipe the probably painful shit-eating grin off his face as he ambled over to his new seat. Roxas really truly had captivated Axel's attention from the first time his head had shot up at the mention of his name in class. Axel wondered why such a fascinating person seemed so distant, so separated and so alone compared to the rest of the school. True, Roxas was a little quiet, but that was no reason for him to be so isolated, and from what Axel had observed with his own eyes, it wasn't because Roxas was too arrogant or because he was too idiotic. Axel didn't know what made the kid so secluded or distinctive among all the rest of the students, but he was sure he was going to find out. His natural curiosity had been alerted, and the fact that Roxas seemed like a… very interesting guy did nothing to discourage it.

Noticing that Roxas seemed tense, almost scared even, Axel purposely kept his distance and paid attention to Vexen's lecture. Or so it appeared. No matter how hard he tried, Axel couldn't keep his eyes from straying toward the small flaxen-haired boy every few minutes. It wasn't like he needed to pay attention to class anyway, at least not this class. Chemistry was his best and favorite subject. I mean, hello! The acids, the bases, the fire. Who could resist themselves to those? Somehow managing to get his mind off Roxas, Axel resolutely listened to the lecture.

Roxas found it increasingly harder to focus on taking his notes with Axel sitting so close. It wasn't really even that close, but the two feet of space was hardly enough for Roxas. Not when he was trying to avoid those all-too-knowing emerald eyes. Besides, it never—never—helped getting close to people; it didn't stop Naminé or Hayner or Pence or Olette, who he'd known since first grade, from abandoning him, so why would it ever help?

Throwing the thoughts of his friends (past friends, his mind corrected) away from his mind, Roxas concentrated on trying to make sense out of the meaningless words scribbled onto his page. He could always rely on schoolwork to take his mind off things. Well, yeah, he needed to think, but he never really needed tothink. He could just focus on memorizing the stupid formulas, or analyzing the damn text. It was a distraction that Roxas was only all too glad to welcome into his life.

Having nearly forgotten about Axel's presence, Roxas calmly collected his supplies after the bell had rung, once again letting the customary habits take over and guide his way throughout the day. Roxas headed out of the class, not noticing the raised eyebrows at his mechanical behavior. Axel followed Roxas out of the classroom, realizing when they'd reached the boys' locker room that they would be sharing this class, too. Axel hid an amused smirk as he watched Roxas walk toward his PE locker and went in search of the coach.

After speaking with Coach Lexeaus, the PE teacher who seemed large enough to life a truck… single-handedly…, Axel headed to the locker room to change, catching the sight of Roxas at the corner of his eye. Determinedly not watching Roxas, Axel hurried out and into the gym only seconds before Roxas followed, still in a habitual daze.

Lexeaus began to speak as soon as he was sure everyone was present. "Okay, we have a new student, Axel Fyras. Be nice," Lexeaus began, pointing to Axel. "Also, you'll be running laps today. Each person does at least five, more if you want. No extra credit. Warm up, then head out to the field." With that, the students began to move out of the gym, already forming their perfectly perfect groups to gossip and chatter about whatever the hell they wanted.

Roxas trailed behind the large groups, moving slowly, yet honestly happy with the fact that they'd be running that day. It didn't matter that it was mid-November or that the sky was threatening to snow any day now; nothing mattered except for that the fact that he could run. It wasn't that he was the fastest in the class or that he was training for the track team. It was just that he loved to run. That was the only reason he continued taking PE, and he was not going to join the team. Not like the members would accept him, anyway.

Focusing on his breathing, Roxas took off at a slow yet steady pace when Lexeaus's signal went off. Roxas loved the feeling of the wind whipping against his skin, the small sting in his lungs as the cold air filled it; he loved the subtle ache in his muscles after he ran, the sweat forming and beginning to drip from his skin. He loved the feeling of feeling like he was free for once, the feeling that he was actually doing something with his own power, the feeling of just being able to run away from everything and pour all of his emotions into running, the constant beat of his feet thudding against the grass. Schoolwork only distracted him, but running, running was his escape, his one ticket away from the relentless monotony and hell that was his life.

And he was flying.

Roxas never stopped, despite the burning of his lungs and muscles, passing by nearly everyone in his class and never noticing when he'd finished his fifth lap. He would never stop because there was no point to stopping. He wantedhis lungs to throb. He wanted his muscles to groan and complain because when he was on the track, he could be himself. He never had to worry about being labeled. What was going to label him, the ground?

As soon as Axel had finished his fifth lap, he stopped and caught his breath, making his way over to the trees, where most of the class sat, conversing with one another. Soon after Axel sat down, a few of the bolder girls began to ask him a few questions. It was the usual "Where are you from? Is that hair color natural? Are you single? Why'd you move here?" that annoyed him to no ends. Seriously, couldn't they at least come up with better questions instead of asking questions that he just knew they'd be writing down somewhere as data on him. Being the people person he was, Axel plastered on a smirk and easily joined in on their conversations, leaving after a few minutes to join the guys' side.

"Hi! You're Axel, right? You've been in all my classes so far today," A dirty blond exuberantly smiled at the sight of Axel. Vaguely recalling glimpses of an odd cross between a mohawk and a mullet, Axel smiled and nodded his head in greeting. "I'm Demyx Thompson. What's your schedule?"

Axel listed off his classes in order, using his fingers to help him. After spending a few moments to absorb what he'd just heard, Demyx realized something. "Seriously? Our schedule is exactly the same! Awesome!" Amused by the blond's ecstatic behavior Axel chuckled a little, when another blond passing by caught his eye.

Axel watched as the face that'd upheld a perfect mask of apathy seems so much more free and so much more natural. Granted, Axel had only known the boy for a few hours, but it was as if all the tension, all the stress, and all the worry had melted away from the small blond's countenance. It was enrapturing. Axel distantly wondered what lap Roxas was on and how he could continue to run for so long.

Demyx's eyes followed Axel's gaze when the redhead had begun to space out and ignore what he'd been saying. "Strife? Yeah, it's crazy how he can run for so long. Whenever we have to run, he always ends up running until the bell rings. He's in three of my classes, so he should be in three of yours, too." Axel tore his eyes away from the captivating flaxen-haired boy and threw himself back into the conversation. He refused to even think that he'd fallen in love. Love at first sight was a gyp, and he knew that, but he couldn't deny that the kid had captured his interest.

Roxas strode into the locker room, quickly changing and keeping his eyes on the ground. No point in giving his schoolmates any more reason to call him a fag, after all. Roxas ignored the way his clothes clung to his sweating body, enjoying the way the perspiration ran down his forehead, even.

Stopping by his locker to grab his books for his final three classes, Roxas snatched his brown sack lunch and hurried off campus, to a small park located nearby, where he knew no one would bother him.

It was a quiet and relaxing little place, filled with trees and bushes and foliage of all kinds. Roxas absently thought that if he were an artist, he would've liked to draw as he sat eating his lunch. But he wasn't. So he rested contentedly, watching the reds, oranges, golds, and browns drifting in the wind as they fell from the trees.

Roxas idly wished he could stay there forever; nothing was needed from him, no one bothered him. School brought with it the suffocating masses of people, and home? That house wasn't really even a home to him anymore, so as far as he was concerned, he had no home. He had a place to live, but it wasn't really a home: a home was supposed to be your paradise, a sanctuary you could return to no matter what.That house did more than just suffocate him; it drowned and gagged and tore down any vestiges of hope that he'd somehow managed to acquire. Seriously? Anywhere was better than there to him.

Sighing, Roxas picked himself and his items up off the ground and aversely trudged back towards the school. Only seven more months he reminded himself. Seven more months until I can leave this fucking place for good. And with that thought in mind, Roxas walked into class, thoroughly concentrated on getting through those last months and leaving.

Though the sun had long since set and had taken away along with it any warmth in the air, Roxas continued to deliberate going home, opting to take a route that seemed to go in circles around his house. November had barely started, yet already the weather had taken a sharp turn away from the humid and sticky heat of the summer and was quickly replacing it with a crisp frost. Roxas didn't mind the cold; it felt good on his skin after a day at work, and the numbness that came with the cold was somehow comforting.

He watched his breath float up in puffs of air as he finally neared his house. It was quiet today, and there weren't any cars in the driveway. Roxas sighed, not knowing if he should be relieved or not; sometimes, he didn't know which one was worse, the silence or noise.

Roxas entered, making sure he didn't disturb the hush that pervaded every room, and headed straight to his room. Normally, Roxas loved peace and quiet, but the eerie stillness in his house was deafening, maddening. After putting a CD on and slipping on his headphones, he got to work on his homework, flinging his thoughts into the corner and fixating his mind on memorizing the names, events, formulas, whatever the school shoved at him. After a while, his CD played out, but Roxas made no move put a new one in or to restart it; he hadn't even realized it'd stopped playing until a knock on his door startled him out of his studying.

"Rox?"

Roxas stood up and stretched a little before making his way over to the door to open it, knowing who it was behind the door even before they'd called out his name. "Yeah, Cloud?"

"I made some dinner. You hungry?" Their mother had stopped cooking for the family months ago, leaving Roxas and Cloud to fend for themselves. Assuming the role of the older brother, Cloud made it a point to cook or bring food home for him and Roxas.

Roxas smiled, genuinely, and went back in to turn his lamp off. "Starving." He hurried after his older brother downstairs. The moment he'd stepped foot onto the first story, he could smell the fragrant wafts of spaghetti drifting through the air. Eagerly, almost like a little puppy waiting for its dinner, Roxas asked, "Spaghetti?" After a nod and smile from Cloud, Roxas rushed ahead into the kitchen. "If you cooked, then I'm serving!" Roxas laughed as he brought out forks, drinks, and plates.

And he felt happy.

Everything felt… fine. Everything was okay, because Cloud had never left him;Cloud was still there for him. Cloud still cared, and that was all that mattered. So he let loose his laughter, his smiles, his sarcasm, dropped his mask, and was just himself for once.

"Thanks. Night, Cloud," Roxas smiled as Cloud softly ruffled his hair after they'd eaten and cleaned up.

"Night, Rox." Cloud turned and headed downstairs, where Roxas could hear the faint sounds of the television. Cloud was always just a little overprotective of Roxas, always making it his duty to make sure Roxas never lacked anything, even when he didn't need to. Sighing fondly, Roxas turned and shut the door behind him, heading back to his desk to finish the last of his homework.

When Roxas had completed the last assignment, he shoved his books and pencils into his backpack and slipped into his pajamas. Glancing at his alarm clock, he noticed that it was almost two in the morning. Roxas sighed again, this time tiredly, and flicked the light off, crawling into his bed, glad that the day was over. Yet for some reason, before his mind drifted off to some distant, far dream world, he remembered a radiant red and a gleaming green.

A/N: The first chapter is finally (re)finished! It feels like the first... 2/3 of it is in a different style than the last part, though… And the first chapter is really uneventful, yeah, I know. Hopefully, in the next chapter or so, I can start developing Axel's and Roxas's relationship.

By the way, what Roxas and Axel felt was not love at first sight. It was a physical attraction and that's it. Why? Because I don't believe in love at first sight. D: And Roxas is not emo. He's just got some issues. Issues that I won't reveal for… wow. A while. Yeah… I've dropped some pretty obvious hints though, especially in the last part of this chapter.

Review, please? And if you're anonymous when you review, could you please leave an email, or some way to contact you? I'd really like to be able to reply!! :)